#dni if your ship hostile

[rainbowmoonstonestories]

A Bounty As Boundless As The Sea | Chapter 1

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: One Piece (Liveaction 2023) Rating: Explicit Relationships Dracule Mihawk x F!Reader Characters: Dracule Mihawk, Original Characters, Akagami no Shanks, Roronoa Zoro , Perona. Warnings: Mention of blood and physical torture, violence, 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, POV switching. Summary: Constantly evading capture due to a bounty on your head, you were forced to embrace the life of a pirate, despite your initial desire for a thrilling adventure and a simple exploration of the world. One fateful day, the Marines dispatched Dracule Mihawk to hunt you down, plunging you into a game of hide and seek with the formidable Warlord of the sea throughout the East Blue. However, to your surprise, the man proved to be less bloodthirsty and hostile than you had anticipated. His piercing, hawk-like eyes, shimmering with a deep golden hue, left an indelible impression on your mind, while his apathetic yet self-assured demeanor ignited a newfound sense of intrigue within you.

Note: This story will eventually include bits from the Anime, so you should expect some Spoilers if you haven't watched it. However, everything written here is purely based on the liveaction adaptation.

Please consider that Mihawk is 41 when he first appears in One Piece, which means that the Reader is supposed to be in her thirties at best, even if the age isn't mentioned.

Credits: The divider was made by firefly-graphics.

Read on AO3.

CHAPTER 1

The day you headed out to sea from your place of origin, you didn't anticipate the course of your life to take a turn for the worse. Of course, in a world infested by piracy, riots, and wars, you were conscious of the potential perils that lurked in the horizon. However, you did not foresee that you would end up with a bounty on your head for taking the life of a Marine Admiral, who had put you through numerous days of torment and barbarism.

If anyone had conveyed to you about a similar possibilty, you would have deemed it to be a matter beyond your wildest imagination. You? A wanted criminal with the blood of another person on your hands? You were renowned for your compassion in your hometown. You could never harm a fly, no matter how hard you tried. And yet, the time you spent incarcerated for a minor food theft in the East Blue brought forth a substantial change in the person you used to be.

You had no desire of becoming a pirate, least of all taking someone's life the way you did. The legendary treasure, the One Piece, didn't entice you in the slightest, as it could very well be a falsehood concocted to unleash disorder on the world. You were seeking nothing but an outing, a break from the monotonous cycle that had exhausted you for quite a long time. You yearned to be on an adventure, to observe the marvels of the ocean, and to gain your financial stability through ethical methods.

You were once the pride of your family, and the thought of how profoundly disappointed they must have felt for your sullied repute overflowed you with mortification.

For a while, everything was as normal as it could be. You worked from one tavern to another, gathering information about the most formidable pirates setting their sights on the Grand Line. You heard several tales from inhabitants and wayfarers, even from the Marines themselves. You were thoroughly pleased with the experience and the wisdom you were acquiring for your own good during your travels.

Unfortunately, things started to deteriorate when your ship developed a massive leak, to the point where you barely managed to reach the next harbor before capsizing and sinking down. The funds available to you weren’t nearly enough to buy a new one, and thus you had to depend on occasional fishermen or merchants for transportation, still paying them handsomely for their help.

On a day when misfortune struck, you were robbed of all your Berries and supplies due to your naivety. You were unable to report the incident to the authorities as the culprits fled as soon as you set foot on land, leaving you without a single coin in your pockets and no food to sustain you during your wanderings. Without money, you could no longer afford passage by ship or meals at local taverns. You were obliged to begin from the outset, tracking down employment opportunities that seemed increasingly difficult to come by.

And then the harassment began, with unscrupulous dealers or pirates demanding a certain type of payment in exchange for their services, which you naturally rejected. As time passed, you had to resort to adopting a defensive stance the hard way, procuring blades and handguns via questionable channels.

You were tired, demoralized, and desperately hungry. Your suffering clouded your judgment, pushing you towards a path you never thought you would accept as your only option.

And then, you had the not-so-brilliant idea of stealing a piece of bread from a market, thinking that just one time wouldn't really be the end of the world. Little did you know, you were about to seal your own fate, as the Marines happened to walk by just as you committed the act, completely unaware of their presence.

You begged for your freedom, spelling out justifications in the hope that they would provide you with the considerate treatment that innocent citizens were supposed to receive. You were gravely mistaken.

The discovery of two sharp daggers and a fully loaded pistol in your backpack certainly did not aid your predicament. Despite numerous attempts to convince them that you were not a pirate, they refused to listen to your reasoning and brought you directly to the Marine base, where a cold cell awaited your arrival.

They left you there without food and barely any water for three days, until the Admiral in charge finally decided to acknowledge your presence. You had hoped that they would recognize their grave misinterpretation and offer you the justice you were due, but you were astonished to find that the conditions of the enstablishment were just as oppressive as the enclosure of your prison.

The commander wished to gain knowledge pertaining to certain fugitive pirates, whose heads were carrying substantial rewards for their crimes against the Government. In view of this, the man put forth an offer that he reckoned would be difficult for you to refuse; join forces with him in return for your liberty.

The hitch was that, besides knowing their names, you were not well-informed concerning these outlaws. The Admiral was convinced that you were withholding more than you wanted to disclose, referring to you as a member of those despicable parasites. The Marines didn’t even put in the effort to corroborate your innocence prior to deeming you officially guilty, using their prestige as a weapon and exerting power over those who were vulnerable.

Ultimately, after realizing you were unwilling to cooperate, the Admiral employed brute force in a bid to extract any secret you were keeping to yourself. In the confines of your cell, you were left to starve and decay as your body continued to weaken. The man would make daily visits, sadistically using his blade to inflict deep wounds on your back, your shirt being ripped in the process. One slit progressed to two, then three, and then ten, until you were unable to keep track of the number. The persistent agony was compounded by the dripping blood, which formed a revolting pool on the floor and stained your uncomfortable bed.

He was a sadist, twisted by madness, using your body as his canvas.

On the brink of abandoning all your hope and acquiescing into rotting in that prison, a guard entered to release you, apprising you that the Admiral had a final proposal ready for you. By then, you had already lost a considerable amount of weight, and you could barely remain standing on your enfeebled legs. The oldest scars on your back itched as they recovered, though the fresh ones were still moist and soaked with blood.

You were forcefully shoved into the office as the guard closed the door behind you, leaving you on your knees, alone with your jailer. Once again, the Admiral attempted to coerce you with promises of salvation, threatening a proper execution the following day if you didn't comply.

It was evident that he had grown tired of toying with you. The Admiral's obsession with pirates seemed to be a severe mental illness, as he saw evil lurking in every corner, when in reality, he was the only monster in front of you.

The moment he turned his back to you and placed his arms across his torso while looking at the window, you became aware of an opening directly upon his desk. There was an empty plate sitting there, with a fork and knife neatly arranged upon it.

A knife, sharp enough to effortlessly cut through a thick steak.

Your heart pounded loudly in your ears as you swallowed hard. Time was of the essence and you needed to act swiftly, without any hesitation whatsoever. Summoning every ounce of energy left in your frail body, you stood up from the polished floor, careful to make minimal noise with your tattered boots. Advancing at a steady pace and with a calculated gait, you went up to the large table, your eyes fixed on the back of the Admiral's head.

Ignoring his eccentric speech, you stealthily grasped the knife by its handle, slowly leading it away from the dish and carefully concealing it inside the sleeve of the meager garment you were still wearing.

You could barely take a couple of steps back before he turned to face you once more, a malicious grin spreading across his lips. He taunted you, expressing his pity for your miserable state and remarking how much fun the two of you could have if only you were smart enough to choose his side.

He walked past the table, extending his big hand to touch your shoulder. You acted on pure instinct as the hunger, resentment, pain, and fear that had consumed you for the longest days of your life surged to the surface all at once. You let the knife slip from your sleeve, tightly gripping it in your hand before delivering a quick and effective stab to his neck, slicing it open.

For a brief moment, you felt nothing. With cold, deadpan eyes, you stared at him as he gurgled and collapsed to the floor. It was only when you saw the blood pouring forth around him that you abruptly snapped back to reality, realizing the gravity of what you had just done.

Panic surged through you when you heard the guard knocking at the door, and from there, everything happened in a blur of rapid movements. As the knob turned, you ran to hide behind the door, seizing the opportunity to slip away when the guard discovered the Admiral's lifeless body in the room. In a rush of agitation, you escaped through the halls and stumbled upon a Marine uniform that was slightly oversized. Fright filled your heart as the shrieking alarm carried on blaring through the base, until at last you managed to end up outside as a disguised cadet.

You discovered an unattended boat moored at the port, which you promptly took control of. Embarking on a journey to an unknown destination, you discarded the stolen uniform in the middle of the ocean, allowing yourself to finally collapse and rest.

The more you pondered on it, the less determined you felt to adhere to the regulations. You believed that the laws and policies of the world were established to serve a better code, but those who worked for the government, meant to become an example to admire and strive to imitate, turned out to be even more despicable than the scum they vilified.

Whenever your scars itched, or someone asked about them to satiate their curiosity, you were reminded of the little trust you could bestow on anyone in your proximity. In the event that even a senior official had the power to pronounce fatal verdicts and physically torment a civilian without carrying out an adequate examination, to whom could you turn for protection?

Ultimately, you realized that the most logical option available for you was to return to your hometown. But then, as you began preparing to leave your life at sea, a wanted poster bearing an image of your disraught face was displayed on the walls.

In that moment, you felt as if you had been shattered into a thousand pieces. You were now persecuted like any other pirate the Marines wanted to capture, and you could no longer travel to your island for the sake of your family and friends. You were alone, lost, on the run from the authorities and bounty hunters.

If they were going to treat you like a pirate, then you would just become one. And so you learned, fought, stole, cheated, and fled, over and over again. As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, you found yourself living in a way that would prevent you from falling and drowning, training extensively and gaining muscle. You became adept at disguising yourself on the spot, and acquired a set of skills that you never imagined would be fitting for your old, innocent self.

All you could do was endure and survive.

Between your shady deals and overheard conversations, you learned about a certain Warlord of the Sea, and none other than the strongest swordman in the world. A man whom you, with your existing notoriety, should have never dared to cross paths with.

And yet, you did.

Dracule Mihawk, once a dangerous pirate known as the Marine Hunter, had now formed an alliance with the World Government, allowing him to carry out his questionable deeds while putting on a facade of indifference. The first time you laid eyes on him, you were casually strolling down a bustling street. He leaned against a stack of wooden crates, seemingly at ease as he carefully surveyed his surroundings.

You could only identify him based on an outdated, revoked bounty poster that could still be spotted here and there on walls or scattered in the streets. However, at the outset, you didn’t know that he was specifically targeting you of all people.

It became increasingly clear to you that he had been dispatched by the Marines to pursue you relentlessly, as you began to notice his presence wherever you went. You couldn't comprehend how he managed to track your every move, as you were confident that no one was tailing you. Yet, he displayed the stealthiness of a bird of prey, meticulously observing your actions before launching his ultimate assault. You couldn't help but feel intimidated, especially in the presence of his colossal sword and menacing yellow hawk-like eyes, albeit beautiful and captivating.

He didn't even pay you any evident attention until you met his gaze by chance, sparking an electric and unsettling connection between the two of you. Despite his detachment, showing little interest in his surroundings, you couldn't help but notice that the more you tried to hide, the closer he seemed to lurk nearby.

One day, as you hastened your pace, you arrived at a bustling village market, with Mihawk still trailing a few steps behind. You quickly veered towards a clothing stall, feigning fascination in the assortment of hats and dresses on display. The merchant, a friendly middle-aged man with long hair and a sumptuous beard, warmly urged you to explore more of his wares in the privacy of a fitting booth.

In order to alter your appearance, you donned a voluminous, frilly red dress that gracefully swept the floor, effectively hiding your outfit underneath. To further conceal yourself, you completed the look with a matching hat that kept your hair securely tucked away.

As Mihawk strolled by the stall, you caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror before you. Maintaining your composure, you intentionally raised the pitch of your voice, exclaiming with exaggerated enthusiasm about the vibrant colors and exquisite materials of the dresses, even altering your accent.

The merchant's genuine excitement warmed your heart despite your act. After paying for the clothing, you bid the man farewell with a gentle wave and walked in the opposite direction, leaving the stall and stealing a final glance behind.

You caught sight of the Warlord’s sword and the white feather of his hat vanishing amidst the crowd. With a satisfied smile grazing your lips, you turned on your heels and dashed towards the docks where your new boat awaited you.

Just over a month later, you found yourself once again face-to-face with the swordman, this time at a tavern in a different part of the East Blue. Despite his distance from your position at the bar, the frequent glances you exchanged with each other evoked a completely different sensation.

In a peculiar manner, he seemed to be savoring the chase, never resorting to his strength or speed to corner you. Instead, he engaged in a game of hide and seek, seemingly finding amusement in the pursuit.

Naturally, you weren't foolish enough to approach his table and engage in conversation with a man who was likely plotting to hand you over to the authorities. After emptying your glass, you rose from the bar and made your way outside into the open air. Without bothering to check if he was following, you skillfully maneuvered yourself through corners and darted down alleys, searching for the most efficient shortcut you could find. Finally, you arrived at your vessel and embarked on another voyage, mustering the courage to look at the docks as the boat moved further away.

Mihawk stood there, unmoving, his expression void of any emotion, his golden eyes piercing into you without a single blink.

And just as it had happened before, a grin spread across your face. It was a triumphant gesture, a deliberate provocation to show him that you were also thoroughly enjoying the game. Mihawk remained unfazed, turning away and retracing his steps without making any attempt to pursue you by sea.

This pattern continued for quite some time, with more encounters scattered all over the East Blue. Each one of them ended with your successful escape, leaving his intense gaze fixed upon you. At some point, you began to suspect that he was intentionally letting you get away. It seemed unbelievable that a skilled fighter with his reputation would consistently be defeated by a novice like yourself.

While it was initially exhilarating and you liked the thrill of the challenge, in the end, it left you with a profound emptiness in your heart. Dracule Mihawk was undeniably a handsome man, but his attention proved incapable of filling the void that lingered within you. This was primarily due to his unfriendly intentions, as he solely aimed to capture you eventually. The truth was that you deeply missed your family, friends, and the mundane life that you could no longer reclaim. Ever since obtaining that bounty, you had to sever all contact with your loved ones for their safety. The overwhelming sense of loneliness and the feeling of being trapped in an endless cycle weighed heavily on you, leaving an intense craving for a definitive way out that appeared impossible to find at the time.

Your reasoning led you to the conclusion that if Mihawk's true intention was to hand you over to the Marines, he would have to kill you in the process.

While you didn't necessarily desire death to befall you, the life of a pirate had its limitations when it came to joy and fulfillment. It simply wasn't the path meant for you, and you couldn't help but wish you had known what awaited you beyond your familiar surroundings before leaving behind everything and everyone you held dear.

You were utterly exhausted, drained both physically and emotionally. The scars on your back had fully healed and partially faded, but they still left behind a collection of unsightly, rough marks that marred your skin. You were so desperate to avoid setting foot in another Marine base that you would have willingly allowed Mihawk to annihilate you.

And so, the next time you saw him, it was meant to be the very last.

Voices reached your ears, hinting at the existence of a cave brimming with wonders on a small, inhabited piece of land. Given the prevalence of pirates eager to seize anything valuable, you didn't have high expectations for what you might discover. fueled by curiosity and with no pressing obligations, you made the bold choice to embark on this adventure, inspect the cave and fearlessly delve into its depths.

As you had anticipated, there were footprints marking the sandy and muddy terrain within the cave. Empty treasure chests were scattered about, their contents long since plundered. You could only salvage a few scattered pieces of gold and jewelry that had been left behind in various locations.

Though the loot may not have been plentiful, it was still a satisfying outcome after such a long journey. Your focus was captivated by a ring that could have easily been overlooked, partially buried in the sand with only a corner of its metallic surface peeking out. It was a stunning golden band embellished with a raw emerald gemstone, a piece that felt perfectly suited for you and one that you eagerly anticipated wearing once it had been thoroughly cleaned.

Silver chains, leather strings, sparkling gemstones, and ethnic rings. You cherished collecting these pieces from your travels as mementos, a way to etch every experience into your memory, symbolize your personal growth, and serve as a reminder that you were alive and thriving.

With your bag partially filled with your newly discovered treasures, you gracefully emerged from the cave, feeling the gentle breeze caress your hair. Lost in contemplation, you strolled along the shoreline, your eyes set upon your boots as they sank into the sand, making a satisfying sound with each step.

It took a moment for you to realize that you were no longer alone on the island. Someone stood just a few feet away, observing your approaching figure with a composed expression.

As you finally raised your gaze, your heart started pounding, and a sense of unease coiled in your stomach. Standing before you was Dracule Mihawk, his piercing golden eyes locked on you.

Gradually, your movements slowed until you finally came to a halt. Despite the noticeable distance separating the two of you, he made no attempt to close the gap. His stance exhibited no hint of malice; his hands rested calmly at his sides as he observed you, not even reaching for his sword.

The longer you locked eyes with him, the less inclined you felt to leave. With a subtle smile, you displayed unwavering determination and proceeded to walk forward with confidence. Mihawk remained motionless, offering no indication of initiating combat as you drew nearer, leaving his intentions cloaked in enigma.

You walked past him, deliberately avoiding eye contact and redirecting your attention to the path ahead. Your ears remained vigilant, attuned to the surrounding sounds, making sure that he wasn't closely trailing behind you.

However, shattering the silence, his voice suddenly reached your ears, and you heard him speak for the first time since it all began.

"You are quite challenging to track down.”

You stopped abruptly, clutching the bag tightly on your shoulder. Swallowing hard, you fought to suppress the lump that formed in your throat. His voice, like liquid honey, flowed effortlessly, captivating your attention and exuding a calmness that instantly alleviated your nerves.

You took a deep breath, reluctantly acknowledging that the sound of his voice was stirring emotions within you that you weren't ready to confront at this moment.

You turned around, meeting his golden eyes once again. “Not that much for you, apparently,” you retorted, your words laced with a hint of defiance.

For a brief moment, you caught a fleeting glimpse of the corners of his lips twitching, as if hinting at a smile. However, it immediately disappeared, leaving only a trace of its presence.

"Now what?" you asked him. "Are you finally going to capture me and hand me over? If that's the case, then you'll have to kill me. I won't put up any resistance.”

“Is that so?”

No matter how much you strained to interpret his expression, he appeared remarkably disinterested, showing no signs of engagement or emotion.

You shrugged, "We both know that I wouldn't stand a chance against your sword. The bounty poster states 'dead or alive,' and I doubt they would be concerned about the state I'm in as long as I'm eliminated.”

Casting a fleeting glance at the sword at your hip, he emitted a curious hum, tilting his head slightly to the side, almost imperceptibly. Silence settled between the two of you, accompanied only by the gentle rhythm of the waves, creating a soothing melody that enveloped the atmosphere.

You waited patiently, but he made no indication of taking any action against you.

"Well, that was quite the delightful conversation," you remarked sarcastically, pivoting on your heels and resuming your stride.

As your eyes landed on your boat in the distance, you suddenly realized that the urge to hasten your steps had dissipated. The weariness of constantly running away had taken root in you, leaving you with a profound sense of homelessness, unable to find a place where you truly belonged.

To your surprise, you heard him steadily moving behind you, his footsteps synchronizing with your own in a deliberate and unhurried rhythm. You continued along your path, maintaining silence, a part of you anticipating a powerful strike that would bring you down. However, to your relief, the enigmatic man made no attempt to impede you. Not even a hint of hostility could be sensed.

As your nervousness heightened, you made a deliberate choice to pause, silently inviting him to draw nearer. With caution, your hand moved to release the dagger from its secure holster on your belt. A quick glance at the subtle shadows cast on the sand confirmed that he was now mere inches away, in your immediate proximity.

In one seamless motion, you spun around, positioning your blade against his throat without applying any pressure. It served as a warning, your glare speaking volumes without the need for words.

Mihawk remained unaffected, appearing to disregard the presence of the dagger entirely. Frustration surged, causing you to tighten your grip on the hilt of the knife, your eyebrows furrowing in annoyance.

"Are you seriously planning to follow me around without making a move?" you demanded, your voice tinged with exasperation. "How much longer do you think I can endure this game of cat and mouse?"

"You can lower that knife," he replied, his tone filled with discontent. "I have no intention of causing you any harm.”

As you observed him up close for the first time, you couldn't help but feel a slight infatuation with his striking appearance. His eyes held a captivating allure, his face partially shadowed by the wide brim of his hat, and his dark hair cascading in soft curls at the nape of his neck.

In an effort to regain composure, you cautiously withdrew the blade from his throat, though you kept your hand poised and prepared.

"Didn't the Marines send you after me?" you asked.

"Oh, they certainly did."

"And you're not going to obey the orders?"

Mihawk let out a quiet scoff, looking away from you and briefly gazing upward. "I don't take orders," he stated firmly.

You instinctively took a step back, regarding him with suspicion as your eyes carefully scanned him from head to toe. "They say that the Warlords of the Sea are nothing more than lapdogs of the Government.”

His golden irises locked onto you once more, seemingly a threatening gesture. However, undeterred, you pressed on. "Enlighten me, then. What should I believe? What other purpose could you possibly have in relation to me?”

You allowed your hand to fall to your side, although with a tight grip on the hilt of the dagger. Mihawk contemplated his response, ultimately giving you the most nonchalant look imaginable.

“I’m just killing some time.”

You took a moment to process what he had told you. "I'm sorry, what?" you responded, seeking clarification.

"Although I do find you intriguing,” he added.

You were left speechless, your mouth hanging open. "You don't even know me," you replied with incredulity.

"I’ve seen enough. And I am aware of your reputation.”

Crossing your arms, you took care not to accidentally cut the leather sleeve of your jacket in the process. "What's so intriguing about my reputation?”

Mihawk pressed his lips together before responding, "A woman escaping a base full of Marines, completely unarmed? That's not something you hear every day.”

You rolled your eyes. "Don't tell me you're one of those sexist bastards who think women can't handle themselves.”

"Quite the contrary. Not even most men would be able to escape that situation unscathed.”

You stood there, a smug grin adorning your face as you watched him. It would be a lie to say that it didn't give your ego a significant boost.

But deep down, the memories of those days still twisted your insides. "Who said I came out unscathed?" you retorted. "And this doesn't explain much either. You said you have no intention of handing me over, so what's your motive, Warlord?”

"Perhaps I wanted to personally verify your worth.”

Unable to contain yourself, you let out a soft chuckle, shaking your head in amusement. "In other words, you were bored.”

"I can become quite laidback when I don't have anything interesting to occupy my time," he said casually.

A part of you found him entertaining, but at the same time, his way of speaking to you continued to irritate you. "Well, at least you can afford to be laidback now that your bounty has been cancelled.”

Your retort was filled with venom and resentment, yet once again, Mihawk appeared unfazed by it. "With or without a bounty, I wouldn't do anything differently.”

You started to question the authenticity of the rumors surrounding this man, considering how different he was from your initial expectations. The fact that he hadn't made any aggressive moves towards you made you wonder if there was more to him than met the eye.

Evidently, his immunity with the Government held little importance to him. He exhibited a keenness to discover something, anything, that could captivate his time and attention, disregarding any orders he may have received. He pursued his own interests, driven by personal motivations above all else.

"That's a shame," you murmured. "I'm afraid I'm not as interesting as you may have assumed. The only thing I excel at is disguising myself.”

"You are underestimating yourself.”

"How so?”

"You mercilessly killed a Marine Admiral. You managed to evade all pirate hunters who pursued you and successfully escaped from me multiple times.”

"All I did was survive.”

"And you have been successful in that, so far.”

A heavy sigh escaped your lips as a gust of wind swept through your hair. "Do you know what it's like? To be separated from your family, unable to even reach out to them because you're constantly being chased wherever you go?”

Mihawk remained silent, attentively observing your reaction.

And then, he spoke. "Such are the perils of a life on the open seas, I'm afraid.”

"I made one mistake, and I've been punished in the harshest way possible. How is that fair? They left me with no other choice. I had to do what I did.”

"You don't need to justify yourself to me," he replied calmly, his tone devoid of judgment.

"You say that, yet here you stand. No offense, but why should I place my trust in you?”

As your heart raced in your chest, its strong beats reverberating through your body, you took deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself down. Meanwhile, Mihawk remained as calm and serene as ever.

"Do as you wish," he said with a casual shrug. "But I must say, you are quite unrefined. Your movements are predictable, and unless you learn to control them, you won't last much longer.”

You raised an eyebrow at his statement, letting out a laugh that was a mix of amusement and surprise. It seemed like a blend of criticism and advice, leaving you intrigued by his words.

"What's this? Now you suddenly want to offer me your help?" you questioned skeptically. "I never asked for your guidance. Whether I live or die is my own concern," you declared firmly.

Mihawk's eyes narrowed, his gaze intensifying as if he were scrutinizing you closely, studying every detail.

"Unless," you continued, leaning forward and bringing your face dangerously close to his, exuding confidence, almost brushing his lips with yours. "-you want to be the one to push me to my limits," you added, your words carrying a daring challenge.

His typically stoic expression, always composed and unwavering, appeared to subtly shift in response to your audacious gesture. You could catch a whiff of his captivating scent, a blend of cologne, sea salt, and earth, filling your senses.

You had to quickly pull away from his taller figure, concealing the faint blush that was starting to creep onto your cheeks.

"What's the final verdict, Warlord?" you taunted. "After all, you were given explicit orders to capture me.”

Your blade made contact with the golden cross he wore around his neck and pressed against his chest, the sound of metal against metal resonating in the air. The open coat he wore left little to the imagination, revealing that he had indeed chosen not to wear a shirt underneath.

You returned to your serious and sincere demeanor, looking up to meet his hawk-like eyes once more. Your stern and courageous facade was starting to waver, but you were determined not to let a stranger see your vulnerability, especially when your life was on the line and his intentions remained uncertain.

You chuckled with amusement as you securely placed the knife back into its holster. What am I supposed to do?" you pondered aloud, more to yourself than to him.

“Grow strong and keep fighting,” he declared. "If you don’t wish to die sooner rather than later. Certainly, it won't be by my hand.”

His words left you speechless, leaving you without a proper answer as he walked past you, now the one departing. You turned around, staring at the intricate details and embroideries adorning his coat. With each step he took, his sword lightly swayed on his back, creating a graceful and mesmerizing motion.

"They won't be pleased with that," you raised your voice, ensuring that he could hear you. This prompted him to pause and briefly turn his head, acknowledging your words.

"They never are," he replied with a tone of resignation before resuming his journey, leaving you behind.

A smile of relief and respect formed on your lips as you reflected on the man who had relentlessly chased you, only to ultimately allow you to go free. Somehow, he perceived something valuable and worthy in you that led him to defy the orders of the Marines, opting for a confrontation that didn't resort to physical violence.

As he became a tiny speck in the distance, you readjusted the bag on your shoulders and set off towards your own ship. A newfound sense of confidence coursed through your veins like never before, propelling you forward into the unknown.

Yes, you had firmly believed that seeing him at that moment would undoubtedly be the ultimate encounter.

Except that it wasn’t.

Go to Chapter 2 ->

[skumhuu]

not at all the other anon (and very VERY much proship leaning) but the "proship means you're against harrassment" definition has always seemed flawed to me because... i was an anti once. And from my direct experiences there are so many antis who have horrible opinions of proshippers but are also very firmly against harrassment—they're still antis and still hate us, viscerally even, they just keep it to themselves and to their friend circles. That doesn't make it harrassment and also doesn't make them less of an anti, they still believe awful things about us and would likely be hostile if we ever interacted.

The definition i typically use for myself to determine whether or not someone is a proshipper or not is if they believe someone's taste in fiction has any bearing on their real-life moral compass or not. If you believe it does, you're an anti. if it doesn't, you're proship.

(This isn't to step over your opinion at all—just sharing mine! I really apologise if this comes off as disrespectful in any way haha.)

No no you’re fine! 💚

This kinda goes back to the unfortunately widespread idea that proship=pedo/problematic. Because like, those people just sound like they identify with being an anti because all of their friends are antis, they have the wrong info, or are too scared to speak up.

Also please remember that my aggressiveness lately isn’t due to hate, I am more than okay with former antis and people who don’t know better, but at this point I’ve dealt with so much harassment and hurt that I’ve lost my patience.

Aligning oneself with the face eating leopards to stay safe doesn’t mean they’re going out to eat faces themselves, but they are enabling that behavior. Even if they aren’t hurting people, by displaying “proship dni” they’re okay with isolating particular kinds of people out of the fandom. They’re okay with inciting harassment, or standing by while others do it for them. And like, they can say they’re against harassment all they like, but they’re still siding with the face eating leopards, hoping they don’t eat their faces next.

Adding proship to my bio wasn’t what I wanted, but I keep getting people acting betrayed when they discover that I’m proship and attacking me that I felt forced to add it. I simplify proship down to ‘proship means you are against harassment’ because I keep having to have this same song and dance where people show up in my askbox demanding I explain myself, when in reality I’m a random sanscest artist like 😂😂😂 the situation is very nuanced! But y’all I’m just trying to make the skeletons kiss

I keep linking studies, and info about the situation, and the way you explained being proship is exactly what I keep saying over and over but in different words :0 I’m too tired to be sympathetic with the people who call me an unsafe pedophile over fiction, who fill my ship tags with hate/disgust while I’m trying to vibe, and I’m not going to tolerate the people who side with that anymore. Like I don’t care if they aren’t harassing others themselves anymore.

Literally look at the tmnt fandom, they ended up turning on “neutrals” and bullied the ever loving shit out of everyone, even those who didn’t care. If we tolerate that here, eventually it might get that bad too. I refuse to let that happen. I will NOT let the face eating leopards in

[froggywritesstuff]

hero | mm!yandere!leonardo

ship/pairing: Mutant Mayhem!Yandere!Leo x g/n!reader

fandom: TMNT: Mutant Mayhem

warnings: yandere themes, swearing, Leo being delusional, manipulative behaviour, guilt tripping, being tied up, gags, kidnapping

word count: 1007

A/N: i only saw mutant mayhem in cinemas once like a month ago so this might be ooc. 18+ people DNI. i do not in any way support yandere behaviour, please know that this writing is purely fictional, and should not ever be reenacted in real life

Leo exhaled heavily, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He whispered to himself 'you got this,' over and over like a mantra. He was so nervous, nothing could calm him down. You were in the sewers with him, he couldn't even imagine being calm. He gave up on calming his nerves, deciding to greet you as he was, jittery and giddy. He entered the secluded part of the sewers he cleared out just for you, not being able to contain his smile as he met your eyes - your mouth being covered with the gag he gave you. You didn't look as excited as he was...  You were probably just confused, that was all. Once Leo explained everything, you'd be smiling in no time. He neared closer to you, frowning at the way you shuffled back toward the wall, but he rationalised that you were just too excited to meet him, and was just as giddy as he was.

"HEy." Leo internally cringed at the crack in his voice, but kept a calm face in front of you, "Sorry for keeping you tied up so long, I had to finish up some stuff with my brothers." he paused, before realisation dawned on him, "Oh and sorry for keeping that gag on you for so long," he walked your way, stopping in front of you to untie the gag, "I knew you'd be confused and I didn't want you to hurt your throat by-"

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Leo jumped back when you yelled, not prepared for your hostility. 

"Hey," he looked behind him, double checking no one else was near, "Y/N, you need to keep it down, or I'm gonna have to put the gag back on, and I really don't wanna do that." he said, almost pleading with you.

"You have thirty seconds to explain to me what you think you're doing." you spat, glaring at Leo to hide the fear in your eyes. You did stay quiet, so Leo did appreciate that.

He nodded, exhaling quickly, "Ok, so we go to the same school, I dunno if you've ever noticed me, you probably haven't-"

"Yeah, I never noticed four turtle mutants at my school." 

Leo instantly perked up, "So you have noticed me?" you said nothing, staring at him with a frustrated look, "Right, never mind. I- You just looked so lonely at school, I figured you needed a friend."

You scoffed, and Leo didn't miss the feeling of pure fear in your voice that you tried to cover up, "So your first thought is to kidnap me?"

Leo cringed, "Can you maybe not use that word?"

Your eyebrows raised, “Kidnap?” he nodded, "No, because it's the exact word to describe what you're doing."

”Well you’re making me out to be some kind of monster. I just…” he sighed, “I really like you and I thought I could be your friend, or something…”

”Well you could’ve been if not for the kidnapping.”

He brought his hands to his face, laughing awkwardly, “Can you stop? I’m trying to help you, it’s not my fault you’re not taking this well.” he saw your unconvinced expression and stood up, beginning to pace around the room “I’m a hero, you know I’m a hero. My brothers and I saved the city. I'm trying to do a good thing for you, and I really want you to be happy down here, with me. So can you just stop being so negative?"

You just stared at him speechless. You realised pretty quickly that you wouldn't be able to convince him that what he was doing was wrong. It seemed his mind was made up. But you also noticed that he seemed pretty determined to keep you happy, and was convinced that you weren't happy without him.

"Leo listen to me," you began, seeing the corners of his lips turn up slightly at the fact that you knew his name, "I know you think you're helping me or whatever, but you're really not. I'm fine, I really am. You-you can let me go, and I won't tell anyone about this, I swear." you couldn't stop the tears forming in your eyes. You didn't want him to know, but you were truly terrified.

He narrowed his eyes at you, "What do you mean? I-I'm helping. I don't understand why you wouldn't think that..." you opened your mouth to speak but he quickly cut you off, "I-is this because I'm a mutant?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, "What?"

"You just think I'm some kind of monster, don't you?" he asked, a hurt look in his eyes as he stared at you.

"Leo, you're not listening to me-" you attempted to say, but Leo cut you off again.

"Well I'm sorry I'm not a human, but last I checked, no human cares enough about you to give you this kind of help." he scoffed, turning around and beginning to walk away.

"Leo, what are you doing?" you asked fearfully, pulling on the ropes around your hands.

He turned back to meet your eyes, "If you hate me so much, I'll just leave you alone then."

You suppress a groan of frustration, "Can you just-"

Leo turned around sharply, a sharp glare sent your way, but you could still see the hope in his eyes, "Just what? If you're gonna yell at me again, I don't wanna hear it."

"I don't want to be here. You're really scaring me, and I want to go home. This isn't what heroes do, Leo." you insisted, staring deep into Leo's eyes, hoping you would reach him.

In the blink of an eye, you saw his face fall, his once tense and frustrated expression replaced with drooped eyelids, frowning lips and slumped shoulders. He stared at you for what felt like an eternity, before his lips turned upwards slightly, a calm expression forced upon his face, "It's ok, Y/N. You’re confused, you’re not used to this yet. You don't understand now, but you will soon. I promise."

[proton-selfships]

So I just read this great post by @kittyandco and it struck a really, really deep chord with me as someone who was also in the selfship community in ye olden days (as in, pre-pandemic olden days).

Now, don't get me wrong, those days weren't perfect either. I still experienced hostility for little reason, and it still hurts me to think about and affects my ability to trust people to this day. And I sure as hell wasn't the only one, or the one who had it the worst. But that lack of good faith that used to be the exception really does feel like the norm now, and it makes interacting way more stressful than it ever was back then. You're expected to read novella-length DNIs and can't interact with or follow anyone without fearing that you missed one of your fandoms on their DNI list and will get shit for it.

(And those pages are often confusing to navigate and use hard-to-read colors, to boot. Seriously, the Web Content Accessibility Guidelines should be mandatory reading for anyone making a Carrd or Rentry account)

And that's not even to mention the fear of what you say to someone in a private conversation getting twisted and shared and vagueposted about without your permission. That's something I've witnessed happen to multiple friends of mine. Again, isolated incidents back then, way more common than it should be now.

Meanwhile, *old woman voice* back in my day... What I always think back to was the really popular ask game that would go around, where you could ask whoever reblogged it to come up with headcanons for your F/Os. And people were sending each other asks left and right! People were excited to look up F/Os they'd never heard of to come up with a little pick-me-up for the person in their ask box! And I remember them being a blast to read and write!

Nowadays? If your F/Os are from sources that's not in the media zeitgeist or another limited set of perennial sources people will generally know enough to engage with... Good luck getting anyone to talk to you. (And that definitely goes double for anyone who ships with characters who aren't white men or isn't white themselves, that's a whole other issue that I've definitely experienced as a lesbian.)

I think it's both the growing atmosphere of hostility and social media in general's growing focus on "making content" and "branding" that keeps people from reaching out to each other unless they ship the same kinds of things they do. It's not really a community anymore. And that sucks, because that's a problem that's infected selfship spaces from the social media landscape as a whole

But I think we could still make the choice to see each other as people. Because, at the end of the day, selfshippers don't really have anywhere else to go. We're all just a bunch of people who carry love for characters in our hearts. Shouldn't we be willing to extend that love to each other, too?

(Obviously, this comes with caveats. I don't know if this is just me and my friends, but it also feels like we're all just too tired nowadays to reach out or meaningfully engage with other shippers' work. I'm definitely guilty of going MIA for long periods for that reason, so I'm not going to act like the lack of interaction with my blog specifically isn't my fault there. But in my experience I've seen a lot of that exhaustion come from this, from the walking on eggshells and the lack of reciprocity of the energy you put in, so it all still applies)

[lokisgoodgirl]

Captain's Orders: New Depths [Avenger!Loki x Fem.Reader]

Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: (12) Fantasies and secrets are exposed at the helm of 'Captain' Loki's yacht. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Language. Smut. "Friends" w/ benefits. Butt-stuff (like,really) Daddy kink. (W/C 3.8k)

The slow descent of your skirt's zipper was the only sound over the hum of the engine. Loki rested against the ship’s wheel, running his appreciative gaze down your legs and back again. They lingered on the run of your suspenders as the flimsy uniform pooled around your ankles. You stepped out, kicking the black fabric under the control panel. “You wish for answers?" he purred innocently, unfurling long fingers with a flourish to inspect his nails. "Tell me, Agent. Where shall we start?”

“Who was in your room this morning?” you snipped, with the air of someone who couldn’t care less. And who wasn't only dressed in a stained shirt, suspender belt, stockings and heels. Loki tsk’d slowly. “Come, now. Of all the curious instances these past few months...that inanity is the burning query on your mind?" he drawled, bored. "Agent, I’m disappointed.”

Your stomach dropped, a swallow rising in your throat before you sucked it back down. So that's how he wants to play. “What did you whisper to Thor during training, then?” you said, chiding yourself for the annoyance so clearly etched in your voice. Loki laughed softly, reaching out whip-quick and grabbing your hand. He pulled you to him, spinning you around to face the open sea through the glass. “Clever girl." he whispered. "You noticed.” The stiff white cotton of his uniform grazed your legs as he shifted his thighs tight to the back of your own. His hands ran possessively over the dips of your waist, grasping at the suspender belt with a feral grunt between gritted teeth. The digits ascended, cupping the sides of your jaw, gently coaxing to the side. There was a noise to your right, his starched captain’s hat hitting the floor and rolling in a semi-circle. Loki’s warm breath flooded your ear canal, making your eyelids flutter shut as you melted back into him, the hard wall of chest keeping you upright. “I invoked an ancient clause, one which ensured his...submission in our little feud.” he said coyly, pausing to lick a trail over your jugular, planting a kiss on the wet slick. “Calling in an IOU as you might say.” This was not the answer you had expected. You ground your ass back against his crotch, the tone of your voice feigning disinterest. “For a stupid sword fight? Seems like a waste.” you quipped, trying to quell the thunder of your heart beneath your ribcage. “Even you know better than that, Agent.” Loki smarmed, sucking your earlobe between his teeth and releasing it with a messy moan. “I never waste anything...or anyone. The Binding Oath of Most Assured Recompense is not to be taken lightly.” You snorted, rolling your eyes. Loki’s lips had enunciated every soft syllable of the arcane pronunciation. Ash-ure-red. “And what about the colours, and the first seed thing?” you countered, wrinkling your nose. “The Ordinance of the Colours and Covenant of the First Seed are indeed serious affairs on Asgard. In your realm, my brother and I differ on their respective relevance. But the Binding Oath of Most Ass-ure-red Recompense is unbreakable.”

Loki seemed to sense your confusion, leaning closer. His scent invaded your nostrils, the deep undertones of musk tangled in autumnal spice like his long legs within your bedsheets. The cartilage of his Adam’s apple rested on your shoulder as he educated you, sighing in the haughty tone that only he could accomplish as his fingers slipped beneath your suspenders. “Tis a binding warrant that declares we must repay the other a debt; no matter the cost, no matter the inconvenience to the other. Even my cretinous brother would not dare disregard it, lest he face the consequences. A marker of restitution. A reckoning.” A violent shiver trembled up your spine as Loki's lips grazed the pulse point of your neck.

“That serious huh? Is that why you jammed three synonyms in the name?” you goaded, feeling Loki’s fingers begin to roam a descent down the curves of your throat. “You know my brother, Agent.” Loki growled, embers of past jealousy sparking the air between you. He rocked his hips against your ass, nudging you forward against the control panel. You bit your lip, feeling his mighty cock harden against you in real time. “Sometimes it is necessary to drive the point home with less finesse than one may be accustomed to.” You stumbled against the buttons, automatically steadying with your palms clasped to Loki’s thighs behind. You tilted your face, meeting his penetrating stare. The blues of his irises were alight with the glow of the setting sun through the panoramic window, veins of green and gold weaving in rippling waves. “What debt did you call in?” you said cautiously, feeling your chest heave as he slid his hands over your shoulders. “The origin of the encumbrance in question is not your concern.” Loki growled in your ear, a deep primordial power in the roll of his shoulders which inched you forwards before he pulled you flush to his stomach. “To him, I declared that you were to be mine. And mine alone.” You frowned, gasping as Loki bit into the curve of your neck. He sucked ravenously, his fingers toying down the front of your panties. Your back arched against him, pinned between that tank of a uniformed body and the ship’s helm. “Loki…” you squirmed, lost in a confusion of bliss. “Yes, Agent?” he asked with a smirk. You could hear it in his voice, that thick sanctimony that made you want to scream into the wind. And yet, as his fingertips drew through the sticky arousal your body offered so freely; you realised how deep the water you were in really was. “What does that mean...declared I was-?- But I’m not yours...-” you stammered, feeling your resolve waver. Loki let out an infuriating hush into your ear, rubbing a hard cheekbone along your jaw as he circled your clit. “Enough questions.” he rumbled, “I have neither the time or inclination to answer them.” You scoffed, silently willing him to make good on his statement. A hand rested on the small of your back, pushing you down. It ran over the curve of your ass, tugging at the panties before they evaporated from your body. Only the suspender belt remained, clinging around your hips holding up teasing lines and straps. Loki let out a dirty sigh, low and ragged. “I am more concerned about ensuring your filthy fantasies breath life, Agent. Wouldn’t you say that is a better use of my time than this inane prattle?” Your head lolled back against his shoulder, a thrill fluttering in your stomach. “No.” you snapped, pulling his hands from the front of your underwear. You spun, fisting the collar of his tunic with a yank. “Tell me who was in your room this morning.” you said, spitting every syllable. Loki’s brows twitched, slanting upwards in impressed surprise. He hadn’t been expecting that.

“I...-” he started confidently, before trailing off with a scowl. He looks so innocent, you thought; before remembering the guttural moan of pleasure you’d heard behind the door. Loki’s features hardened again, closing the tiny gap and sandwiching you tightly between his wide hips and the control panel. He began to undo the buttons of his tunic with aching precision; each muted pop of metal making your pussy gape. “Who is your other lover, Agent?” he muttered slowly, pursing his lips. They flickered, his amusement at the game's turn palpable. “Tell me that, and I shall answer your question.” You frowned, cursing the proud set of his chiselled features glowing in the sunset rays. The tunic rested open, the widening gap of uniformed cotton making you want to drag your fingernails down the sliver of naked chest. “Really?” you mumbled, seeing Loki give a regal nod. “On my honour.” he purred, dragging his rigid manhood against your body through the ridiculously tight trousers. He’s made them tighter, you realised, sliding your hands over his ass, whimpering softly as you squeezed the solid muscle. Fucking tighter. The material was screaming, bursting against the seams; hard thin lines flattening beneath your fingertips. You suddenly wondered if the gusset was reinforced. “Honour? I’m not sure if you have any of that to spare.” you muttered seductively, hands falling back over the control panel behind for purchase, trying to avoid the switches.

“Agent." Loki warned, running a long finger down your cheek, skimming gently over your bottom lip. You rolled your eyes, accepting the futility. Taking a deep breath, you felt the words form behind your teeth. They stung. “No one.” you spat. “Are you happy?” Loki chuckled darkly, carding the hand cupping your jaw through your hair to the base of your skull. “How satisfying it is to hear you say that, Agent. The truth...at last.” You stared to the side, feeling your face heat. “What, so you can lord it over me? Taunt me?” “Perhaps.” he purred innocently, sliding his hands over your ass. “One must add to one’s exponentially growing multitude of ways to irritate you somehow.” You gasped as he spun you around to face the window again, the deflation of knowing your secret was out making you feel weak in his hold. “As for my part, and for what you heard through my door - I have a daily routine.” he hummed in your ear. “I summon a duplicate of myself who provides me with a morning massage.” You released a snort of laughter, feeling Loki bristle behind you. “You can’t be serious.” you choked, turning your face to look directly up at his. His furrowed brow and look of offended indignation told you he was deadly serious. You stared, waiting for the punchline. You’d never heard anything more ridiculous in your life. “Why should I believe you?” Loki sighed wistfully. “Being part of this realm in a benevolent capacity brings its trials. It’s own...tension. I tried to outsource to one of Stark’s minions, but none of them could rub hard enough.” You felt a smile tug at the side of your mouth, despite your best efforts. After a pause, Loki’s did the same. He thrust gently against your hips. “Or deep enough.” he continued knowingly, tilting his head. “I can understand how your mind would automatically be drawn to the more carnal connotations of what you heard, Agent.” he murmured, slotting his jawline into the crook of your neck. “I am very good.”

“But you said to...come back to the bed?” you stuttered disbelievingly. Loki chuckled. “He took it upon himself to leave his station and attempt to answer the door. Even my illusions are wilful creatures.” The deepness of his voice made your knees buckle as Loki continued. “Just like their...daddy.” There’s that word again, you thought with a jolt. Had you ever told him you had an aching, overpowering, embarrassingly strong urge to call him that over and over as he fucked you senseless on every surface of his rooms? You didn’t think you had. So why does he keep saying it- “-but you said you were sleeping with other people…” you gasped, as he circled his hips. The pull was magnetic, feeling his hardness through the cotton press against your naked flesh. “Did I?” he cooed. “I don’t believe I did, actually.”

Loki sucked your earlobe between his teeth, nipping before release. His fingers reached down front between your legs, drawing back a sticky slick of arousal. “You assumed." he chided. "Your prejudice towards me is showing again, Agent. Amongst other things…” “You’re filth.” you sneered with theatrical coldness, watching a smirk stretch across Loki’s lips. “You love it, Agent.” he growled menacingly, returning his hand to the small of your back before pushing you down; spread on the buttons. “Now that we’ve dispersed with the pleasantries...” he rumbled, rubbing his palms down the sides of your horizontal waist. They slid over your ass, a sequential thump of his knees on the floor accompanying a groan of anticipation as he spread your cheeks. Your hips gyrated, urging him to sail you over the edge of decency. “Loki…” you gasped, as his warm tongue found the forbidden entrance nestled between your curved cheeks. He buried his face, muffled groans of pleasure filling the cabin as you rocked against him. Your fingers curled to fists, the excruciating pleasure of his enthusiastic attentions eliciting rabid pants from deep in your throat. You clasped your fingers around an important looking lever, not caring what the hell it was for. Flickering your eyes down, you saw the thick meat of thigh muscle stretched against tight white cotton. It was spread to the side of your ankle; belonging to the god splayed on his knees as he serviced you. Pleasuring you. In that ridiculous captain’s uniform, you silently screamed. “F-fuuuuck...Loki.” His flattened tongue moved in time with the digits he had covertly slipped inside you. They curled, massaging the sizzling pressure building deep between your thighs. You felt yourself clench against the waves of novel bliss, the tip of his nose pressing your cheeks apart at their height. Loki's tongue folded and caressed against your delicate entrance, every spasm of bliss making you sink further into new depths of ruin. “Lo-Loki...f-fuck...yes.” you slurred, knuckles turning white as you gripped the panel edge. A flood of climax overtook you suddenly, liberally coating Loki's gently thrusting fingers. You mind howled, a rage of lust and animalism ripping through your veins like wildfire. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me. Your knees began to tremble against the unrelentingly blissful rhythm, letting yourself fall further back on the open mouth of the god kneeling on the floor. The wet, filthy pleasure was endless as he smothered himself. Deeper. Suddenly his teeth sank into the curve of your ass, a deep growl sounding against slippery skin as a free hand snaked up your thigh. “Swear to me I am your only lover, Agent.” he rasped, withdrawing his fingers from your cum-soaked pussy with aching slowness. He stood, looming behind you as you tried to gather your thoughts. “I wish to hear the words from those devilish lips of yours.”

You heard the low hum of a zipper before Loki’s familiar wide tip ran teasingly through the crease of your ass, slick with his saliva. Tendrils of his hair grazed your back, falling loose from where it had been tied. You arched at the sensation, his hot breath and sultry words making your hairs stand on end. “Why do you care?” you gasped, clenching your cheeks around his thick cock. You rocked up on your tiptoes, tugging his foreskin upward before sinking down. “Why did you lie?” he countered, cupping the curve of your bottom with one huge hand. You whimpered as Loki drew his furiously hard shaft in gentle circles over your back entrance. Anticipation fizzled beneath your skin, every graze of his heavy sex setting your senses alight. He spoke slowly, velvet words melting like bath foam. “Swear to me that I am your only lover…” he whispered, “and I will grant you what you desire.” “You...are- are my only l-lover.” you panted breathlessly, tightening your grip on a well-placed lever. The walls of your pussy fluttered as his manhood nudged your asshole. “Swear it.” he snarled, gripping the nape of your neck with an ominous squeeze. "I s-swear...Loki, I swear." you panted, before his hand slipped away. You heard a muted glug, casting a glance behind you to see him empty a phial of oil into his palm.

He slathered his cock, before sliding an open palm through your cheeks. “You have no idea how I have longed for this, Agent.” he growled, matching your moan of arousal as he slipped a finger inside. Another joined the first, stretching gently in a scissoring motion. “As, I know, have you.” Your mouth hung open, eyes squeezed shut as his balled knuckles pressed against your delicate entrance. The utter filth, the possibility of being caught with Loki buried deep in your ass against the helm of the yacht. You felt a hot dribble of arousal begin a descent down your inner thigh. “You have done this before?” he purred knowingly, a low chuckle vibrating through his tight uniform as you meekly shook your head. You could see his dim reflection in the pane of glass; the smouldering smirk and flashing cheekbones as he ran his hand down the flat of your spine more beautiful than the spread of the ocean. He leant over further, the snug tunic hanging open whoreishly; his carved abdomen pressing flush against your back. “A virgin then.” he hummed. “Don’t worry darling…daddy will take care of you.” Your breathing slowed as he straightened, lining himself up. The wet head of his length nudged against your slick hole, nudging the first vestige of resistance. “Relax, darling.” he cooed, mirroring the gentle tone he had used while he healed you. Slowly, the tip breached. A gasp fluttered from your lips, as Loki stilled. “Good girl.” he grunted quietly. Large hands massaged your hips, before tilting forward an inch more. Loki’s guttural moan was like a dying breath. You couldn’t take your eyes from his reflection in the glass, concentration knitting his brow as he watched his cock sink into your ass. Shameless mewls fell from your lips as you squirmed in place, the desire to have him rut into you to the hilt overwhelming. "Patience..." he whispered breathlessly, holding your hips still in his iron grip. The feeling was indescribable, a hard pressure of completeness as he inched further inside. The two of you let out a synchronised groan as his pubic bone finally pressed flush against you. Loki stilled again.

“You’re doing so well, darling. I'm so proud.” he cooed condescendingly. At any other time, you might have rolled your eyes; but the words sent a roar of pride rolling in your belly, clamping around the thick mass conquering every millimetre of space your body could offer. “When you’re ready, darling...move for me." he murmured. "Feel what it is to have me sheathed inside this precious passageway. You are in control, Agent.” he said, cautiously. “So use me.” Slowly you began to circle your hips, lips parting in a silent cry of pleasure as his girth shifted and stretched the virgin space. “That’s it. Does that feel good my pretty thing?” Loki choked, trying to maintain an air of haughty indifference and failing miserably. “Uh-huh…” you grunted, deliriously fighting the urge to slam backwards. “Don’t fight it.” Loki murmured, guiding your hips gently as you found a comfortable rhythm. “Fuck me, Agent. F-fuck me with that perfect a-arse of yours and – oh, oh.g-gods.” Loki inhaled sharply, hips juddering upward as you began to slide back and forth with ease. The muscles of your entrance were fastened to the solid length of him; every drag against his foreskin making his fingertips dig deeper into their hold of your hips. There was no pain, only freedom. Power. The god stuttered nonsensically, knees almost giving way before he straightened. Looking down, you could see the golden embroidery of his naval cuffs, svelte fingers squirming against your skin. You glanced backwards at the sight of the god with his head thrown back; drowning in the forbidden pleasure you were giving him. His hair fell in loose strands around his chin, black streaking the fair, tight skin of his jawline as messy groans infusing the air. The muscle in his jaw was pulsing. Clenching. “Does daddy like that?” you probed shyly, as you slid along his perfect cock. You felt him spasm as the verboten word dripped from your tongue for the first time.

Loki's head snapped up, brow creased before his eyes rolled back with a guttural moan at another well-timed clench. “Yes...f-fuck yes, darling.” he growled, a whine strangling from his throat as you dragged his foreskin forwards. The tip slid out the tight entrance. You bit your bottom lip, the exquisite feeling of dominance tingling on your skin. He sighed, face painted with a devastatingly haughty smoulder. You nudged backwards, catching the head of his manhood within the slick of oil gathered at your entrance. The desperate god groaned, rubbing his palms over the curve. “Sink back on daddy’s cock, Agent…” he breathed slowly, sliding his hands down the front of your hips. They found your clit, leisurely drawing his fingers through soaking, slippery folds. “Uhhh...god, Loki..” you groaned, feeling every vein tug past the tight ring of muscle. A gravelled whimper built behind your teeth as Loki’s chest pressed to your back, gentle thrusts beginning to slap as he leant into your enthusiasm. The stiff fabric of his naval uniform scraped against your skin, every collision of crisp cotton sending you closer to the edge as his fingers pulsed your sex upwards. So raw. And powerful. And fucking filthy. You began to whimper with every breath.

“Mmmm...you know only I can..uhhh...f-fuck, make you f-feel this way, Agent. Only daddy makes you feel this...g-gods...this fucking w-way.” “Daddy…” you moaned shamelessly, lifting your head. Even the word finally dripping from your tongue was enough to send a blossom of climax soar in your loins. Loki’s forearm slid across your chest, holding you upright as he began to pulse. “Louder.” he growled in baritone, begging as his hips began to slap lightly against the back of your thighs. He was holding back. Just. His fingers massaged your swollen bud as his thrusts became messy; staggering in his attempts to quell the rampant flood of lust that was taking hold. “Fuck me, d-daddy...yes...f-fuck, Loki.” Your lover snarled in response, a flash of bared teeth visible out the corner of your eye. The sensation of him filling you. The knowledge that he was completely undone. That he was being tender, despite his unrelenting need for satisfaction. That he was being real. "Loki..." you lilted softly, feeling the hum of his response vibrate against your skin. Your hand slid up his cheekbone, tugging his hair in a tight fist. You tilted your head, catching his slanted lips with yours. His tongue hovered against yours, his rasping pants thick and fast together. “Cum in my ass, daddy.” you whined sluttishly into his mouth, feeling an involuntary judder of his wide hips in response. “Agent…-” he gasped, as your breaths became short. Loki's fingers pulsed against your clit, thighs clenching as orgasm rose in devastating ripples. “Loki...oh...m-my.god-” You felt his balls tighten against your skin. The slide of his cock slowing as he eased himself over the brink through ragged breaths. Every ridge of his length dragging to the last. Savouring you. He bottomed out a final time, stalling as his weight pressed against your back. The buttons of his tunic were cool against flushed skin, messy curls grazing down your spine as he rocked with his release in time with yours. The low roar of your name in his throat was sexual napalm, sending you spiralling in an incoherent splutter of ecstasy. With a final shallow heave, he pulled you flat against his chest; the angle of his manhood making you twitch in his arms. You knew it would be hot. But not this fucking hot, you thought; trying to compose yourself through the orgasmic daze. "I must unburden myself to you…” Loki whispered through ragged breaths, combing a damp strand of hair behind your ear before placing a kiss on your temple. You dreamily hummed a response, inhaling sharply as he guided himself out. You could feel his cum following, slathering between your cheeks. The god's hand grazed the curve gently, making it evaporate in a warm glow of magic. He knelt to the floor, picking up your skirt and handing it over gingerly. There was something wrong about the silence. Something heavy. You slipped the skirt on, pulling the zipper up in time with his own. “These last few months have been...interesting.” he began, once you had arranged yourself. You cocked an eyebrow. “That’s one word for it.” you said, a coy smile pressing at your cheeks as butterflies fluttered in your stomach. What do you want him to say right now? you thought, pushing a strand of hair coquettishly behind your ear. “-But I have a confession to make.” he continued, avoiding your gaze. Your smile fell as Loki inhaled deeply. Holding it.

“I can somewhat...see into your thoughts, Agent.” he said cautiously through the exhale, lifting his stare and gauging your reaction. “-Just a little. It's really rather interesting-” he added quickly with an innocent widening of his eyes.

You froze, stunned. “-You can read my mind?” you said quietly, suddenly feeling more naked than you ever had with him before. White noise hummed in your ears, blood thundering with horror. “You can fucking read my mind?" you shrieked. "How...how could you not tell me?! How is this possible?!” Loki’s white captain's uniform melted in strips of magic, fizzling and reforming to uncover his standard leather combat suit. He grasped your biceps, sensing the change as his eyes searched your face. You had the overwhelming feeling that his confession had not been received in the manner he anticipated. “It is not as you suppose. Listen to me-” You let out a shrill, mirthless gasp of laughter. “All this time? I can't...you are-” you spluttered, pressing your hands to your eyes. Mortified. There was silence. “You insufferable wanker. I fucking hate you.” you spat, splicing the intimacy between your bodies as anger bubbled like tar beneath your skin. You could feel your jaw locking, curling your fingernails sharply into the soft skin of your palm. “You think you’re so clever. You're nothing but a smug, self-righteous dickhead.” you hissed, seeing red. “How long?" you yelled. "Does Steve know about this, too?!” Loki threw his hands to the ceiling with an exasperated sigh. “Norns, woman. Do you ever quiet? You'll wake the gentleman in the cupboard.” Shit. You'd forgotten about the actual captain, resting amongst the cleaning supplies. With a grimace, you snarled, buttoning up your shirt unevenly. “Is it just me? Am I the chosen one to entertain you with your sick games?” Despite the rage, your voice wavered. Loki stepped forwards, his hands raised in surrender. “As far as I can surmise... it is associated to flashes of strong emotion; an image caught in time. Like your photo-graphs. Pain, desire, certain...phrases that-” “Phrases like ‘daddy’?” you spat, folding your arms. A smirk twitched at Loki’s lips. He really can’t help himself, you thought furiously; watching him smooth the front of his leather tunic like a politician stalling for time. Your eye twitched. “In answer to your query...yes, it is only you I’m afraid. I should have told you sooner but it was-” “-fun?” you finished bluntly. Loki shrugged, resigning himself to your petty anger with a roll of his eyes. “Captain Rogers is unaware." he huffed casually. "However, as I was saying before you became so predictably dramatic; the reason for this little phenomenon is rather interesting if you’ll permit me to-” “No.” you hissed, circling your forefinger back and forth through the space between you. “This, is over.” Loki rocked on his heels, casting his eyes to the window as he pondered what to say next. Something snarky. Something he thinks is fucking funny, you thought, tears of frustration stinging. With a growl, you nudged him aside; striding towards the door. The rise of the land line was visible, creeping closer as Loki stepped forward and pushed several buttons with theatrical flourish. “I think not, Agent.” he purred, clasping his hands behind his back as he stared over the ocean. “You like me far too much for that.” “I never want to speak to you again, Loki.” you said resolutely, head held high. “I hate you. Loathe you. I mean it. More than ever, you sanctimonious, devious, perverted, lying prick.” Loki flinched as the door slammed, hearing the click of your heels storming down the hallway. “No you don’t, Agent.” he whispered with a quiet smile, flexing his grip around the ship’s wheel. The leather of his tunic creaked against his hips as he widened his stance, glinting eyes fixed on the approaching shore. “No you don’t.”

Continued in Hot & Bothered Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection

A/N: Thank you to the ever incredible @gigglingtigger for helping me brainstorm The Oath of Most Assured Recompense and highlighting how Loki would most definitely say it 😊♥️You're amazing.

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[a-killer-obsession]

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

A search for a rumored Vegapunk weapon leads the Kid Pirates to an unexpected new crewmate, with a bloodlust that rivals their own and an incredible power.

CW: Please check AO3 for all current warnings, but general warning for smut, slow burn, serious gore, and really dark themes. AFAB reader, she/her pronouns.

Masterlist || AO3 || Chapter 1

Chapter 46 - Plans and Disguises

Unsure of what to do now that you're in Wano, you make a deal to get some help.

Word Count: ~3.5k

“Give me a hand, will you?” Law coughed, a dribble of blood running from the corner of his mouth, “they got me with a fucking seastone nail.”

“What makes you think I'm gonna help you?” You scowled, “I ain't your friend.”

“Because I know who you are, Shockwave Yin,” Law smirked, “and I know why you're in Wano. Help me out, and I can help you out.”

“You can heal yourself once I get the nail out?” You questioned. You knew a little of his devil fruit abilities, Killer made sure you were well educated on all of the Worst Generation and Emperors. Only a fool would sail the Grandline without some knowledge on the biggest players in the game.

“Yes, just fuckin’ get it out,” he grumbled, pulling the sleeve of his kimono out of the way, revealing the tattoos on his arm and the entry wound. “You don't know this place. You and your baby won't survive here unless I tell you what I know.”

You grumbled but knew you weren't in the position to refuse any information you could get. He was right, you knew shit all about this land, you didn't even know how big it was or what direction to go in to find your friends. You pulled your dagger from your thigh holster, giving him one last look of confirmation. He nodded, and you dug the blade into his skin, making the opening large enough to get your thin fingers inside; since it was seastone, you couldn't use your powers to dislodge the nail. You pushed two digits into the wound as Law groaned and grinded his teeth, fishing around for the seastone nail, a little rougher than you needed to be just out of principle. You knew you'd found it when you felt your abilities shut down, your visor now giving your vision a purple tint instead of its usual invisible filter. You pulled the nail from his wound, throwing it into the grass nearby.

Immediately, Law summoned a Room and removed the bacteria from his wound, closing it with a sigh before dismissing the blue aura. You cleaned off your knife against his already dirty clothing, much to his annoyance, reshealthing the blade and wiping your hands clean on some damp grass. You stood before him impatiently, waiting for him to hold up his side of the deal.

“Alright, alright,” Law rolled his eyes, using the tree to stand back upright, a little unstable on his feet. “I'll give you the import info. Kaido's weapon factories have poisoned this land, the water and food here, even the animals, aren't safe to consume. The only safe food comes from his farms. If you want to survive here, you need to either steal from his farms directly, or from the Flower Capital where he ships the safe food to the rich.”

“God fucking damn it,” you growled, annoyed at the extra work. You were no better off than you had been on the alliance island. How were you going to keep up with stealing enough food to sustain your milk, care for your baby, and find your crew? Law saw the way you grit your teeth in frustration, and saw an opportunity he could take advantage of.

“Your devil fruit is quite strong, yeah?” He asked. You squinted at him suspiciously, choosing not to dignify him with an answer. He rolled his eyes at your hostility. “Look, I'm guessing the baby is throwing a spanner in the works for you. Kaido took your crew, yeah? My crew have heard rumours about it, but since it doesn't concern me I haven't looked into where they're being held. I'll make you a deal though. We keep baby supplies on the ship for distributing on poorer islands, so make a deal with me. My crew will babysit, while you go look for your crew. In exchange, you lend us your power in the battle against Kaido.”

“Why should I trust you?” You growled, holding Dawn close protectively.

“Because we have a mutual enemy,” he said plainly, leaning on his long sword for support, weak from bloodloss and use of his power, “and because right now, I know you don't have any other options.”

You made an annoyed grumble, but conceded that you didn't have a better option right now. The Straw Hats trusted him, they'd already fought together several times, he seemed reliable to them at least. You trusted the Straw Hats, they'd helped you without question, and had been more than accommodating, so maybe you could extend that trust to Law, given their alliance. It was a difficult ask though, given your current experience with pirate alliances. You looked down at a sleeping Dawn nestled against your chest, not a care in the world. You couldn't keep doing this on your own, you needed to find her dads and the rest of your crew. You owed it to Kid at least, after everything he'd done for you.

“Fine, you have a deal,” you finally agreed, not seeing any better path. Law held out his hand and you made an exasperated sigh at the shit eating grin he gave you as you shook it. You felt like you'd just made a deal with the devil, but what choice did you have?

The bushes behind you rustles, and you quickly turned on your heel and drew your weapon as you sensed several people rushing at you at once. You stilled your heart and your hand though when matching branded kimono appeared through the trees. You let out a heavy breath as you resheathed your sword, you were getting really fucking sick of people jumping out of bushes today.

“Captainnnnn!” A large polar bear mink shouted in a surprisingly high pitch as he ran at Law. He scooped the tall man up like he weighed nothing, Law clearly used to this sort of treatment as the mink hugged him like a ragdoll. “You're okay!”

“Bepo, put me down,” Law complained. The bear quickly dropped him, bowing his head and apologising repeatedly. “What's your report?”

“The ruins are entirely destroyed,” a man with ginger hair sticking out from under a whale-shaped hat spoke, “but no lives were lost, thanks to Shinobu and Chopper. The group is retreating back to location B.”

“Good,” Law replied, “and Straw Hat-ya?”

“Captured,” the one with a cap with a small stuffed bird on top spoke, “unconscious, but alive we think. Looked like they were taking him to Udon.”

“Dammit,” Law growled, “five fucking minutes he's been here and he's already starting shit. Now Kaido knows our crews are here,” Law tsked. You were thankful to hear that Luffy didn't drown, but he wasn't your Monkey, and this wasn't your circus. The others looked at you questioningly, Law waving his hand nonchalantly at you as he answered their wordless questions. “This is Yin-ya, from the Kid Pirates. She'll be coming with us. Let's get moving, the Beast Pirates know I'm around now and it won't be long before they come looking to see where I went.”

“Aye aye captain!” The three subordinates spoke, giving a salute before Bepo took Law's sword for him to carry it, and the other two offered Law a shoulder each to help him walk.

You followed the four of them back through the forest to a small town, where the buildings looked run down and abandoned. There were hardly any people on the street, seemingly most of the residents had deserted the decrepit town, or perhaps died. Those left didn't look far from the grave either, hunched over in doorways, begging bowls in their hands and clothes that were practically rags at this point to cover their bodies. The town stunk of death, the air thick with it. You saw many ghosts along the way, all looking just as depressed as the living, and you had no doubt Kaido was responsible for this town's misery. ‘Location B’ turned out to be a run down looking hall that looked like it used to be used for performances. The largest building in the town by far, though the west side was entirely collapsed, and you worried about the structural integrity of the rest of the building. It had plenty of space for several small crews though, with a large foyer, a decent performance hall, and several offshoot rooms that would have been dressing rooms and the like when the building was still in use.

On the way Law explained more about Wano to you, and a little of the plans to take down Kaido. Wano was an enslaved land, with the poor being forced to work in weapon factories while Kaido built an army of artificial devil fruit users. The production of the fruit had been stopped by Law and the Straw Hats, but Kaido already had a large force, made up of strange human-animal hybrids with none of the shifting abilities of a usual zoan fruit user. The fruit had a high failure rate though, such was the risk of duplicating something as wildly difficult to replicate as devil fruits, but Kaido had accepted the risks when he shipped in crate after crate of the marred fruits. Those who the fruit successfully worked for were known as Gifters, while those who the fruit had failed for were known as Pleasures, named as such because the fruit left them with the inability to show any emotion other than joy, only ever able to laugh and smile for the rest of their life, no matter how angry or sad or scared they were. The permanent smile was also how the fake fruits received their name, known as SMILEs.

Kaido's crew, the Beast Pirates, controlled the entire island, and many residents were either dying in the factories, or starving from lack of safe food. Kaido was in league with the shogun, essentially the king of Wano, after the previous shogun had been murdered twenty years ago during a conspiracy Kaido had aided. Unbeknownst to Kaido, the son of the murdered shogun, as well as several of his retainers, had been sent to the future (or rather, the present) and the plan now was to defeat Kaido and the false shogun, and retake control with the old shogun's son back in his rightful place of power. Both the On-Air and Hawkins Pirates had joined forces with Kaido, and now patrolled alongside the Beast Pirates. Law and Luffy were part of what was know as the Ninja-Pirate-Mink-Samurai alliance, who were currently working on recruiting allies and gaining information on Kaido in the build up to a raid, planned to take place in two weeks during a local festival.

The island also had a unique climate, being a large enough landmass to split up into multiple seasonal weather patterns. Currently, you were in the summer section of the island, while the Flower Capital, where most of the Straw Hats were currently under cover, was located in the Spring area. The entire country had been cut off from the outside world for hundreds of years, with its own den-den system, newspapers, fashion, currency and culture. Hence the kimono Law's crew were wearing, and why Law's crew and the rest of the Straw Hats had been unable to contact Luffy. You could see as you entered the hall that the Straw Hats you'd travelled with also sported kimono now, ready to head off to their own undercover assignments.

Dawn had started to wake up as you arrived, and you pulled her out of the carrier so she could stretch out better and look around. She squealed excitedly as she noticed Hakugan, and Law raised a curious brow at the baby's reaction. You sighed as you struggled to contain the excited baby, “I think it's the mask,” you explained, “I think she's mistaking him for her dad.”

“Massacre Soldier is her father?” Law asked. It seemed obvious to him now, seeing the blonde hair.

“Ah, one of them,” you replied awkwardly, “it's complicated.”

“You… don't know who her father is?” He asked. He sounded a little judgmental and you tried not to take offence.

“I have two lovers, but neither is her birth father,” you replied with a scowl, expecting a pirate to be a little more open with things like sexuality, “neither am I her birth mother. She's adopted.”

“O-oh,” Law replied, “but… you're breastfeeding?”

“I lost a baby,” you sighed. Law quickly regretted this whole line of questioning, it was clear by your expression that he'd hit a sore spot. He made a mental note to himself to explain Dawn's parentage to his crew, so that nobody would ask you the same questions.

“Sorry,” he quickly said, promptly looking to change the subject after that, “Hakugan, come here.”

The masked man came jogging over, much to Dawn's delight as she reached for him. “You're on babysitting duty,” Law told him, “have someone retrieve supplies from the ship, you're going to be looking after Yin-ya's baby while she looks for her crew.”

“What?!” Hakugan groaned, “Why me?!”

“Because she's taken a liking to you,” Law said plainly, but there was a hint of amusement to his tone, “have someone help you if you must, but you're responsible for this baby while Yin-ya is busy, that's an order. We have a deal with her.”

“Fine,” Hakugan grumbled, holding his hands out for Dawn who all but jumped into his arms. You handed him the duffle bag of what supplies you had, and gave him the rundown of what she likes and needs. It wasn't a proper goodbye yet, but Law needed your attention to get you set-up so you could begin searching for your crew as soon as possible. The Straw Hats gathered here were already on their way out, along with several Heart Pirates, to find their assigned undercover posts or return to the city for more scouting, and you waved them all goodbye.

You followed Law up to what would have been the stage before this hall was abandoned, where he introduced you to the future shogun, Momonosuke, as well as his retainers. He was just a kid, you couldn't fathom how they were going to make this kid a leader, but it didn't matter to you as long as you got your crew back. One of the retainers, Kin'emon, put a leaf on your head, and with a puff of pink smoke your outfit was changed. They assured you your jacket and mask were fine, just disguised temporarily. You now wore a yellow kimono, with a gradient that shifted the base to pink at the bottom, decorated with white and periwinkle flowers. Around your waist was a sash decorated in white and teal vertical stripes, a periwinkle peek of fabric at its top edge and a pink ribbon around the centre. Under the kimono was a matching periwinkle layer, which peeked out at the neckline, and your sleeves had been conveniently tied out of the way by white threads, in a similar style to one of the retainers, Kiku. Your mask was now disguised as a headdress, the visor now a sheer purple fabric, the earpieces now large yellow chrysanthemums, a thick white braid running over your head to connect them all. By fiddling with the petals you were able to adjust the mask, the sheer fabric changing colour with the setting, and you were impressed with the way the devil fruit power adapted to the changes.

Carrying weapons was forbidden in Wano unless you were one of Kaido's subordinates, so you stashed your katana with Law's crew, keeping your hidden knife under your dress. You didn't really need your katana anyway, you just liked to have it with you in case of seastone bullets. The retainers also gave you the cover name Mienai and a backstory as a florist in the Flower Capital, in case anyone asked questions. Did you know anything about being a florist? Not a fucking lick, but you didn't plan on getting close enough to any of the locals to need your cover story. The name was useful though, Kaido's people were no doubt keeping an eye out for you, the one rogue member of Kid's crew and a valuable potential asset. If anyone got wind of a ‘Yin' in Wano, you would have a lot more travel getting around, even with your invisibility. You weren't immune to good observation haki, and if Kaido caught wind you were here, you had no doubt he would have people with good haki guarding your crew as a trap for you.

Your plan was to sneak into the capital to begin searching for holding cells, or to try and catch some whispers of where your crew might be. Being able to make yourself invisible would no doubt be your most useful ability in Wano, and now that Dawn was taken care of you would be able to travel quickly and unhindered. Though your new shoes were taking some getting used to. Gone were your usual practical boots, replaced by sandal like shoes called geta, with black lacquered bases and pink straps, worn over white socks that had a separation to account for the shoe straps. They were awkwardly heavy, with a curve at the front that meant your toes were basically hovering over nothing, and you ate shit at least five times before you got the hang of them, or at least got the hang of using your devil fruit to manipulate the air and right yourself.

You took one last chance to breastfeed Dawn for the evening, not knowing when you would be back to the base, memorising the shape of her face and the way her soft hair fluffed up at the top of her head and the way her tiny little hands reached for things. You hated having to leave her behind, but you had to remind yourself that she was too small to remember this when she's older, but she would certainly remember being raised without her dads if you didn't find them. You didn't want that for her, you wanted her to have all the love in the world, to always be surrounded by it. And you wanted that protection for her, so she would never suffer like you had.

You ate dinner with the Law's crew - he'd been stealing food from Kaido's farms, where the crops and animals weren't poisoned by his factories. Law had already informed you that the food in the capital would be safe, so you had no need to pack significant rations, you could steal what you needed once you were there. You packed enough food to tide you over though until you got there, repurposing your duffle bag which until now mostly only held things for Dawn. Law had offered you medication to dry up your milk supply to make your mission easier, but you refused it. It felt like a betrayal to Dawn's birth mother to just give up on your milk like that, when her mother had struggled so much to keep it going. She'd had no choice when her supply dried up, but you did, and hell would freeze over before you gave up on it, especially not for a little thing like convenience. Instead, you packed your hand crank manual pump. You would have no way to preserve the milk and would have to dump it, but keeping up the draining of your breasts regularly would stop your body from thinking you no longer had a baby to feed, until your mission was complete and you could go back to how things should be. You still planned to return to this base whenever possible anyway, to see Dawn and feed her yourself whenever the opportunity arose. You also packed a hand drawn map provided by the retainers, a few bottles of safe water, and one of the local den-den, which was conical in shape. You could use it to contact Law if anything happened, but you hoped you wouldn't need to use it.

The retainers told you what they could about the capital, to help you blend in once you got there. Once the sun went down you set out to begin your journey. The capital was located in the centre of the island, and you would have to pass through an area called Kibi to get there. There was a town you could stop in on the way called Okobore, where you intended to hide during the day until you could move at night again. It was safer that way, since some of the Gifters had the ability to fly, they would spot a random woman travelling through essential desert from a mile away, and you couldn't just stay invisible the whole time. By traveling at night you had the vision advantage, and would see enemies long before they saw you, allowing you to cloak yourself. Once you made it to the capital you would blend in, but until then your clothes were far to nice for those on the outskirts, you'd stick right out.

With a deep breath you took one last look at Dawn, sleeping soundly in Bepo's arms (he had taken quite a liking to her), and took the first determined step towards finding your family.

[NEXT CHAPTER]

👉 Like my stuff? Consider buying me a ko-fi

Taglist: @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @iggy5055 @eyes-ofhell @luvnisstuff

[shittalkcornstalk]

“Take One For The Team”

Part 4

Synopsis- A throwback to your first encounter with Buggy! Also after being encouraged by an unknown ally, Buggy finally feels that things are working in his favor, maybe it’s time to take that next step?

A/n- It’s been a bit since the last upload, but I finally have some new content! This chapter is short cause the next one is a doozy! I’m gonna start a taglist if anyone wants to be added just lmk! As always let me know if I miss anything in the warnings :)

Warnings- xfemreader! , Use of Y/n, 18+ minor dni, Eventual Smut, mild manipulation, alcohol use, abuse of power slightly

Word count 2k

Chapter 4 “A New Perspective”

It was a fairly smooth outing for the rest of the day. The shopping proceeded as usual and you helped the Captain carry around the bags he needed, though he ended up dragging most of the bulk. You insisted you could carry a larger load, he’d seen you help with cargo before, but he grumbled something and readjusted the weight in his arms.

“It’s fine, I’d look like a real jerk making you carrying all my shit-“

He had a public image to maintain. You laughed it off and picked up the last few things before heading back to the ship with him. As you boarded the ship you noticed a couple of men looking at you and the captain before turning their heads to mumble something you didn't quite make out, nothing important probably. You'd drop off the bags in his work room before going to your own to plop down on your bed and rest. Even if it was a casual day of shopping and dining, the stress of keeping appearances and all that walking took it out of you. Your thoughts kept drawing back to each moment laughing and enjoying Buggy’s company. His lit up eyes at the sight of the explosives, his bright smile, and the laugh he had (even when it was at your expense…) all these things sunk you deeper into your bed and pulled you into a cozy comfort. What would have happened if you never approached the captain that day, if you never caused that spark in him.

You remember the day you saw his ship dock on your island it wasn’t too hostile of a takeover. He sure tried to make it one , but he soon learned there wasn't much to loot. He docked for a day. He needed him and his crew to recuperate, after all your town wasn't gonna put up a fight. You’d been held up in your lonely apartment until you felt it safe enough to leave and explore what the crew had done to your town. There wasn’t much to distinguish between the previously abandoned buildings and the ones ransacked from the pirates. It all looked like the same rubble to you. The town you were staying in wasn’t anything sentimental, you’d been jumping for a bit now trying to find somewhere. With your lease ending soon and no commitments to the town or work you’d been doing, maybe it was time to seek new employment. You’d wanted a life out of the sea growing up, but that would've been as a marine, becoming a pirate would seem like a jump into unknown waters. Still you wanted to see what this crew was all about, maybe they’d be willing to take you to your next destination for some extra labor.

You headed out to where it seems the most commotion was and found the band of Pirates. It was an intriguing sight to see a crew full of all sorts of misfits. A clown sat big and tall in the center in the bar they’d ransacked. There was broken glass on the floors and a couple of the local tough guys were out cold on the floor. His voice carried through the crowded room in a vibrato you could feel ringing in your chest. He laughed and cheered to another successful day, though you’d eventually learn this was not very true. He plopped himself over into a private booth with a couple of people you’d later come to know as your friends Cabaji and Moji. You forgot they were there when you introduced yourself to Buggy for the first time, they saw just how smugly he looked at you approaching him. You at the time were too set on a working mindset to notice the shifting glances over your body, and the chuckles he’d held under his breath as you spoke. You talked to him very directly that day you introduced yourself to him, he always liked that you did that.

“Hello, you are the pirate captain known as Buggy the Clown, correct?” He nods, motioning his hands for you to keep talking” Well my name is y/n l/n sir and I have come to ask if you were recruiting.”

Buggy seemed a bit shocked, he was hoping you were just some fangirl ,but you wanted to work under him? You didn’t look very strong and you didn't carry any weapons that may allude to a speciality. Though you seemed willing and that's all he really needed out of a crew mate, but you brought something else to the table that the others didn’t. Buggy’s crew were a mostly unfortunate looking bunch of men. They were gruff and intimidating, he knew that social rejects were rarely lookers but they were always loyal. You on the other hand were quite attractive to him, he wouldn’t mind having some eye candy on the ship. He would’ve accepted you right then and there if you were just another man looking for work, but he wanted to test you. You brought out a little malicious intent from the Captain. He’ll see how responsive you are to him somewhere more private.

“Ok y/n, I’m sure there's a room around here somewhere where we can have an audition. I run a tight ship here, I don’t need any stragglers-“ He puffed out his chest a bit and walked past the two, who just happened to notice him float just slightly above the ground to make himself taller. That's a joke they never let you in on, gotta leave some self respect for the Captain.

He sees a small room with a few barrels, it's just some stock room. Based on the low storage it's already been well robbed. He drags a chair behind you with a floating hand and motions for you to sit. You try to hide your shock.

“It’s a devil fruit, gets em’ every time-” He says smugly.

He looks down at you, circling you a vulture. He starts darting out questions to you, trying to make you falter.

“What’s your name again kid?”

“Y/n l/n, Captain” He perked up a bit, you were quick to pick up the honorific.

“And what can you do for me y/n” His hand glides under your chin and lifts your head up to meet his intense piercing blue gaze.

He was playing an intimidating act, as you expected from a pirate .Ultimately this was still a standard job interview, you were gonna play into whatever the interviewer wanted, and that seemed to be obedience and respect. It was true he liked how obedient you were, but why he liked it was beyond you at the time. Knowing what you knew now you regretted not paying closer attention to his lingering hands and watchful eyes, you should’ve guessed from the beginning his intentions with you.

“I can serve wherever you need me sir, I am not much of a fighter, but I can train. I have knowledge on ship maintenance- and I’m not opposed to manual labor.”

In the future when Buggy would go about his own reminiscing about this moment, he’d hang onto that first sentence. ‘I can serve wherever you need me sir’ He repeated those words as he fantasized about what turns that audition could've taken. How vulnerable you looked sitting down looking up at him in the small musty room. He almost regretted not taking you there and then, would’ve saved him from all the stirring emotions you brought out in him.

“I see, we’ll be entering the Grandline in the next year, are you prepared for the danger that entails? This job isn't for the weak of heart. So if you're scared of any of that now, it’d be best to leave while you still can little girl. ”

You hadn’t expected Captain Buggy to be as ambitious as he was, searching for the one piece was no small task. Maybe the Buggy Pirates were a bit out of your wheelhouse, but you needed to get off this island sooner or later. You could always bail in whatever town they raided next if things didn’t work out. Plus the guy interviewing you seemed interesting enough, this could be a fun experience. So you looked past the risk and looked at the Captain with determined eyes, you weren’t some little girl.

“Sounds fine to me, Captain.” You spoke unwaivered. He couldn't get to you and it made him excited in more ways than one. You’d make an excellent addition to the crew and even serve as a little challenge for him. Turns out that challenge would end up with him being a desperate mess for next 6 months…

Buggy later announced your addition to the crew rolling out another barrel of ale for his people. You celebrated with a mug and tried to socialize with your new shipmates. It really was a mismatched sort of men. You saw a woman standing far away looking over you all but you’d assumed at the time she was just an onlooker, not your future ally and matchmaker. Ultimately you packed your bags that night and set sail with the crew the next day.

As you reminisced drifting off to sleep another paced with excitement across the ship. Buggy had finished his shopping day with you in success. He paced in his study thinking about every time you smiled today. Eveytime he made you laugh. When you called him by his first name and it rolled off your lips like it was nothing. He didn’t completely screw the day up and he prayed to whatever god in the sky that was watching over him today would look fondly upon him again. He needed another day like that, he needed every day to feel as good as today felt. He stammered and paced before looking over to the other person in the room.

“You should’ve seen her, the way she twirled her hair, I thought I was fucked when the shampoo thing came up- shes gotta not be completely replused by me right? That's gotta be a sign I’m finally getting somewhere here” His voice sounded pleading, like he had to convince himself that these interactions actually happened. He turned to his confidant and looked for some reassurance. “What do you think Alvida?”

Alvida laughs, she’s well aware of how today was going to play out. She made sure of it. After months of Buggy pestering her about you and what to do, when she finally saw you take interest, she had to start playing both sides.

“You know I think if you just talk to the girl honestly, you’d get where you actually want to be, and not here whining to me about it-'' She spoke candidly.

When she saw you flirt for the first time she knew it wasn’t real, but she could change that. She loved how much less complaining Buggy did in those first weeks, and when you stopped it became incessant. When she got involved she realized Buggy needed to play along too if you were gonna actually fall for him. Just as she started giving you advice, she did the same for him. She told him to be kinder, put on the charm more during training, and most importantly catch you off guard with direct advancements. She was so proud of him the day she paraded you around in the tiny outfit.She was relieved seeing you all flustered and hearing how well the little date she set up today worked. This was a sign that her days with a sappy, yearning, drunk clown would soon be over.

“Why don’t you let her know how you feel at the final night out, that way if anything happens you can drink enough to forget-“

“Fine I’ll think about it…” This would be alot for Buggy to manage, admitting something like this was big for him. But you were worth the risk.

[olderthannetfic]

https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/730572795212398592/what-is-up-with-all-the-trans-men-on-this-hellsite?source=share

As a trans man, I might have some insight into this one. I'm a lot older than the standard uwu sparkle anti, but I was in my mid twenties for the first wave of weirdness about trans boys on Tumblr about a decade ago, so I was just too old for it then, and I saw a lot of guys my age and a little younger get swept up in it.

OTNF rightly points out that young trans men are a particularily vulnerable demographic. This is part of it, but we're also a demographic that doesn't sit comfortably with our identites (gender identities or otherwise) and are told by everyone (on every side) that we are Doing It Wrong, that our existence harms others, and that we must be this specific way to be good people.

I'm sure you've seen the "trans men are better than real cis men" rhetoric. It's meant to be inclusive and to reassure us that we're not bad people just because of our gender, but it also denies us our entire gender identity.

So basically, you've got a bunch of young guys, most of whom were socialised like girls and learned to never be too assertive, many of whom are straight up suffering from dysphoria and stress, being told by people both within and outside of their communities that the are Wrong and Bad and Harmful just for existing. It makes sense that a lot of them would would find a movement based on moral posturing that will accept them if they perform correctly and will use their real name and pronouns. That's what Antis are; they say "use this vocabulary, send hate mail to that person, put these terms in your DNI, don't be caught reading that story", and, unlike other groups that police people's tastes and performance that hard, they're not overtly hostile to trans identities. So you can spout the right rhetoric, use the right tumblr icon, and they will actually accept you (on the surface, for a time, but we're talking about young and desperate people who aren't looking at the long game).

Helping them harass those badwrong horrible NOTP shippers or aces or middle aged women or some random artist who got caught drawing the wrong age gap or whoever is the fashionable target will prove that you aren't a horrible monster for being a man, you're moral and upright and correct.

And yes a lot of it is internalised misandry (that word has a lot of dumb baggage, but how else can I describe a boy who hates himself for being a boy?), or self-loathing born of dysphoria and just plain having to live in a world that's hostile to trans people.

Being an anti is a way out. It's a way to manufacture acceptence. And they're too young and too hurt to realise that that acceptance is as temporary and hostile as the people who accept them only if they pretend to be girls; the antis will turn on them the moment they start acting a little too manly or if they're caught liking the wrong ship.

(I've seen something similar happen to young cis queer guys and trans girls, too, but it isn't as pronounced since being raised as a boy means you probably already learned that standing up for yourself is ok sometimes)

--

I'm sure it also doesn't help that tumblr is absolutely full of BL/slash fandom. There's certainly plenty of gender diversity in these spaces, but it's inescapable that the majority of participants are women. So for a young, insecure guy trying to assert that he is a guy, it's easy to fall prey to "Waaaah, I need to reclaim my hobby for me!" gatekeepy nonsense.

Sure, it's going to be turned on nbs even harder than on cis women and will be used to misgender other trans men in the end and misogyny isn't cool anyway, but that's not what your average traumatized young fool is thinking when they first join up. They're thinking "I hurt."

TBH, though, probably the largest component is that all of us—all of us—have a mental image of a default human for a given context. It's rarely a trans man. And so anything a trans man does stands out and is A Thing Trans Men Do.

This is true even if you are trans. It is true even if you are not a transphobic dickhead. Unlearning the 'why girls are bad at math' xkcd strip is extraordinarily hard because recognizing patterns and having mental defaults is just how human brains work.

There are shittons of cis women who become antis, but they're just not notable in the same way.

Are trans men more vulnerable to becoming antis? It's possible, and the reasons you outlined above are likely why. I think it's an interesting question to discuss if we are specifically discussing why the trans men who do become antis do so.

But we don't actually have any hard facts to support that they are more prone to it than anybody else. My guess would be that vulnerable people are more likely to become antis, so any cis woman with a strong source of vulnerability like a shittastic home life is similarly vulnerable to a young trans man with no support network, but who knows.

Maybe only 5% of trans men on tumblr are antis and 50% of cis women. Maybe it's 90% of trans men and 20% of cis women. Maybe it's 1% and 1% and they're just all very loud.

We have no data. We just don't know.

And we will never be able to trust our own brains on this until trans vs. cis is such a nonissue that we don't even notice it.

[tired-fandom-ndn]

Real talk but what is up with this weird hostility towards m/f ships besides the biphobia? Because I've been seeing a lot of shit like "dni if your OTP is het" and "problematic" fic tastes that include reading m/f smut.

It's just fucking weird to me tbh.

[devine-fem]

I wanna hear you talk about JonJay. I just need to hear someone else’s dislike for it from someone that also actually reads comics and I’ve noticed you had JonJay DNI in ur bio.

WHEW. Listen disclaimer: If you like Jonjay. Do not read this. Also, do not interact with me because if you like Jonjay, you will not like me.

My issue is that I kind of like Jay’s fight against colonization but that is it. THAT IS IT. My problem is that it came about in such an awful way… like it’s like Representation 101 that you don’t do what Tom Taylor did with Jonjay… he created a character for another character to be queer and not only that made the characters boring…

The thing about Jonjay shippers is that a lot of the time the shippers enjoy the racist/bad writing version of Damian… they always weirdly speak like they hate Damian… Also, people who are an apologist for older!Jon… HAVE TO BE ILLITERATE… like there’s no way…

My friend was telling me that they’ve never met a Jonjay shipper who had good takes and good taste in media… it just doesn’t exist… and how hostile they are with young jon and damijon in general… I’m not going to lie… hating damijon and liking jonjay never made mathmatical sense to me… even if its not damijon… I’d prefer ANYTHING over jonjay… I trust that any other ship has plenty more substance… and no, it just… jay’s character exists to put down Jon’s… as long as Jay exists… Jon will never be able to grow and shine… read SSOKE and take a second to realize that the focus there is Jay and not Jon!! THAT IS WHY SSOKE IS SO BORING! like jonjay shippers only really care about jay anyway which makes no sense ???! thank you for telling me to rant because i dont get those people at all

AND PEOPLE WHO SHIP JONJAY AND HATE JON? it just makes no sense like wtf?? i guess it kinda makes sense because theres no way you like jonjay and actually gaf about jons character… you probably just like gay superman and thats it like… tom taylor hates good romance… its like dickbabs hurting babs… jonjay hurts jon…

im rambling but yeah, i hate jonjay… its the only ship i hate besides like obviously incest ships or tim x anyone LMAO but like its not about getting in the way of my ship, its about being a bad ship that is associated with the character assassination of my favorite character… i guess i kind of think of it the same way roy fans think of jayroy but also i like daminika (or my idea of daminika) so like its really not about “getting in the way of my ship” i really could care less… ships are fanon

dude. dude. listen. i saw a jonjay shipper say that damijon has no chemistry because they barely have chemistry as friends… talking about chemistry and bring a jonjay shipper is crazy? CHEMISTRY SALES BABE? adventures of jon kent couldn’t break 6 issues and you wanna talk about chemistry? the proof is in the pudding… the people dont like mid. dude. listen. jonjay shippers are just idiots… they have to be 😭 your brain cant be braining in order to like that bro. they be like “i love you 😐” LMAO LIKE JUST NO EMOTION LIKE WHO CAN ENJOY THAT. thank you jonjay for reminding us youre dating because honestly we could NOT tell. cant wait for you to disappear all year then reappear during june 😭

[rainbowmoonstonestories]

A Bounty As Boundless As The Sea | Chapter 3

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: One Piece (Liveaction 2023) Rating: Explicit Relationships Dracule Mihawk x F!Reader Characters: Dracule Mihawk, Original Characters, Akagami no Shanks, Roronoa Zoro , Perona. Warnings: Mention of blood and physical torture, violence, 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, POV switching. Summary: Constantly evading capture due to a bounty on your head, you were forced to embrace the life of a pirate, despite your initial desire for a thrilling adventure and a simple exploration of the world. One fateful day, the Marines dispatched Dracule Mihawk to hunt you down, plunging you into a game of hide and seek with the formidable Warlord of the sea throughout the East Blue. However, to your surprise, the man proved to be less bloodthirsty and hostile than you had anticipated. His piercing, hawk-like eyes, shimmering with a deep golden hue, left an indelible impression on your mind, while his apathetic yet self-assured demeanor ignited a newfound sense of intrigue within you.

Credits: The divider was made by firefly-graphics.

Tagging: @gg-trini, @commanderfreethatdust, @canthebest1, @shakysif, @i-am-vita. If anyone else wants to be tagged in the future chapters, feel free to drop me a comment!

Read on AO3.

Dracule Mihawk, a man shrouded in mystery, had an allure that was almost impossible to ignore, even with scant knowledge about him. As fate would have it, this powerful attraction was reciprocated.

Warning: This chapter includes detailed smut!

When you offered that invitation to Dracule Mihawk, your intentions were unclear even to yourself. His heroic deed of saving you from a nearly unavoidable fatality seemed to instinctively provoke this response, and the prospect of an early departure was far from desirable, given the considerable time it took you to expunge his presence from your thoughts.

But now, as he stepped onto your ship and entered your private quarters—a place where no other man had previously been allowed—your heart refused to stay silent. The confined space of your vessel, where the bar area was placed in close proximity to your bed with only a modest couch acting as a divider, certainly did not help the situation.

Fortunately, you had a separate room dedicated to personal hygiene, discreetly placed on the opposite side and hidden behind a modest door. Thus, you allowed him to make himself comfortable, promptly excusing yourself to retreat into the washroom.

You hastily freshened up to restore your appearance after the strenuous battle, fixing your makeup and swiftly changing into a new attire. You didn't want to come across as overly provocative, but as a woman, you felt compelled to look decent in his commanding presence. You opted for a pair of velvety shorts, fastened with a broad belt that featured a striking golden buckle. You also picked a soft, high-quality leather top, adorned with a tasteful set of front laces that ensured it clung flatteringly to your torso. You chose, however, to completely abandon any form of footwear, allowing your legs and feet to be entirely unencumbered.

While looking good was of utter importance, you also needed to feel comfortable in your own space. Perhaps it was a bit too much considering you had a special guest, but you always valued presenting your authentic self, regardless of the occasion.

Or maybe, unbeknownst to you, Mihawk's calming aura instilled such a sense of ease that any need for formality was discarded. This notion struck you as profoundly ironic, especially considering that his initial task was to pursue and capture you.

Or worse.

As you exited the room, your bare feet meeting the cool wooden planks, your eyes locked with his golden stare. He was seated on the couch, legs crossed elegantly with his hands resting on his knees. His sword, tall enough to be mistaken for a menacing figure, was strategically placed beside the couch. Despite the indoor setting, his hat remained firmly on his head.

He was silent, scrutinizing you with an intense gaze. Attempting to maintain your composure, you sauntered over to the counter and fetched a pair of glasses.

With an air of nonchalance, you remarked, "You strike me as the wine type. Do you like it?”

"Wine is fine," he responded, his voice carrying a subtle undertone of indifference.

You acknowledged his response, turning to uncork one of the most exquisite wines procured in the East Blue. As you proceeded to pour the liquid, his expression immediatly altered, his eyes catching a glimpse of the scars on your back, stretching across your right shoulder from under your sleeveless top.

"What is that?"

He shattered the silence with a question that momentarily eluded your understanding. You swiveled your head around to face him, registering how his focus had drifted to your back. It didn't take long for you to discern what had suddenly ensnared his interest.

You answered with a casual shrug, filling both your glasses. "A souvenir from the Admiral I took down.”

Would he even have the inclination to learn about it? Did you harbor the bravery to revisit a nightmarish past you had strenuously endeavored to expunge from your memory?

Mihawk maintained his silence, which eventually led you to decide to lay it all out. "He took pleasure in using my back as his personal canvas to inflict and inscribe his marks.”

The echo of the man's laugh still rang in your ears, his sadistic, malevolent grin imprinted in your mind.

"Everything started with a mere piece of bread. I was starving and my timing was off. They assumed I was a pirate, never bothering to reason with me or listen to my side of the story.”

You made your way back to the couch, extending his glass for him to accept. His hawk-like eyes were transfixed on your form, not blinking once. Gradually, Mihawk accepted the offered wine, his fingers lightly grazing yours in the process.

You resumed your narration, settling down on the plush cushions next to him. "They always label pirates as the scum of the earth, the vilest breed of men alive. I've encountered my fair share of despicable ones, that's a fact, but the Marines can surpass them all in their depravity.”

Mihawk sipped his drink, his focus drifting away as he seemed to be engrossed in deep thought.

"It's not your identity that defines you. It's your actions, your choices. Deeds can resonate more powerfully than words.”

He swallowed the ruby-red, invigorating liquid, and you couldn't help but be captivated by the movement of his Adam's Apple.

"I apologize if I'm boring you," you confessed, smiling. "But tell me something; is your presence here really just a mere coincidence?”

Finally, as he set his glass down, holding it just above his lap, he hummed in response. "I have no interest in chasing after you.”

"Ouch," you answered playfully. "That's unfortunate. I was under the impression I was starting to grow on you.”

The way his eyes shifted back to you from the side, stern yet somehow comical, elicited a gentle chuckle from you.

"Regardless of what brought you here, it turned out to be beneficial for me, so... thank you.”

You changed your position, leaning your back against the couch and bringing the rim of the cold glass to your lips. As you moved, your thigh brushed against his, sparking a fleeting touch that sent a flutter of butterflies to your stomach.

Your hand softly traced your belly, where a few twinges of pain from the kick you received were still lingering. Mihawk appeared to notice this, his eyes falling on your fingers as they curled around the soft fabric of your top.

"I wonder, who is Dracule Mihawk, truly?" You pondered aloud. "You are not the subservient figure everyone portrays when they talk about you Warlords, are you?��

"I am certainly not,” he said with a grimace.

You appreciated the concise and earnest responses he offered when he was perfectly capable of delivering more elaborate speeches out of the blue. He was one-of-a-kind, enigmatic, and undoubtedly a man of many talents.

Once, you were filled with fear at the mere thought of him. Now, all you felt was a pulsing curiosity and a magnetic attraction.

"No, of course. I can see that.”

If only you could probe deeper, uncover more about this formidable man who had the power to erase your existence with the slightest touch.

"What held you back when you first saw me?" You questioned him. "I wasn't even aware of you then. You could have easily trapped me, vanquished me as you were expected to do.”

"Like I mentioned, I wanted to verify for myself if the reputation that preceded you was warranted.”

"Yes, and you also told me that you can become particularly laidback when you don't have anything interesting to keep yourself occupied with.”

He gave an almost imperceptible shrug, raising the glass back to his lips for another sip.

"Was that all there was to it? Boredom? Did you spare my life simply because there would be nothing to gain from my death?”

Was there something more underlying his benevolence?

"Why are you interested in knowing?”

"Because I don't get it.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Yes, Mihawk. I do.”

He didn't react, merely looking at you while keeping a calm and elegant posture on the couch. He had the aura of a refined Lord from affluent lands, akin to a king who carried his throne with him wherever he went.

"I left my hometown with the aspiration of finding a better life, oblivious to what I could find. All I was met with was prejudice, cruelty, violence, and greed.”

He listened in silence, gently swirling the half-empty glass in his hand.

"I genuinely thought you were no different, that you would kill me. But not only did you spare my life once, you literally saved my neck today.”

You leaned in, tilting your head to lock gazes with him more intensely. “I wasn't your responsibility, you could have left me there.”

His eyes dropped momentarily, only to return to your face with renewed determination.

"I simply chose not to," he responded.

No explanation or reasoning. His statement just stood as an unquestionable fact.

At that, you smiled. "Like I said, actions can define us better than words will ever do. You might be a Warlord of the sea, and the most formidable swordsman in the world. But more than anything, you're a good man.”

"A good man, you say?”

“Yes.”

"Don't be naive. I operate by my own rules, at my own pace. I can remove anyone without needing a particular reason, and I won't hesitate to topple those who dare to oppose me.”

Clearly, his aim was to sound intimidating and threatening. Yet, for some reason, his efforts didn't seem to impact you as he intended.

"Obviously," you retorted, as if his words were the most normal thing to hear. "But here's the thing; I held my knife to your throat, and yet, here I stand.”

His eyebrows arched as he regarded you with a mix of playfulness and mockery. "Did you believe that would frighten me away?”

"Certainly not. My point is that you didn't even make an attempt to disarm me.”

"So?”

You sighed. "So, we're back to the beginning. You could have overpowered me in a multitude of ways, left me to my fate, but for some inexplicable reason, you decided to help me.”

He hardly even blinked.

"You claimed I was intriguing, yet I mean nothing to you. I don't even pose a substantial challenge in battle.”

"That is your perspective.”

"No, it's an undeniable truth.”

"You were battling against a whole crew of men eager to claim your head.”

"And they would have succeeded if it weren't for your intervention. What do you think would happen if, for some reason, I found myself in a fight against you?”

He rolled his eyes. "All I'm hearing is pointless prattle.”

He definitely had a knack for being unnerving as well.

"What enjoyment could you possibly derive from keeping me alive?”

For the first time, you saw him genuinely struggle, as he parted his lips to speak, but halted himself mid-sentence. He pondered over it, searching for the appropriate explanation to provide.

When he finally did, you felt your breath hitch in your throat due to the spark you saw in his golden irises.

"I'm intrigued to see where your resilience might take you.”

You blinked a few times, feeling the glass almost slip from your grasp. "Are you implying that it would be a waste if I were to die?”

"This world could use a bit of a shake-up.”

The Warlord was artfully sidestepping your questions, not providing the answers you seeked but instead offering new perspectives on his intentions. As the strongest swordsman with no real competitor capable of giving him a worthy challenge, he had no other ambition left to chase after. Was he longing for a new type of world, reformed with more deserving and honorable people like yourself?

Your lips stretched into an even wider smile as you quietly brought the remaining drops of your wine to them.

He mirrored your action, draining his glass without breaking the eye contact, before setting it on the coffee table in front of him and rising to his feet.

From your seated position, he appeared incredibly towering and commanding.

"You ought to leave this town," he suggested, reaching for his sword. "Before someone else decides to come after you again.”

The color almost washed out from your face as you realized that he was about to depart. You knew it was irrational, preposterous, and somewhat immature, but you weren't ready for him to leave just yet.

Perhaps it was the wine, coupled with the earlier Daiquiri, clouding your judgment and bringing forth your most illogical thoughts. But for a fleeting moment, you were tempted to grasp his coat, draw him back down, and ask him to stay for a little while longer.

But you didn't.

"Oh... uh, yes. I should indeed.”

You also rose from the couch, moving towards the counter, intent on procuring more wine to drink. Without even a second thought, you poured some into your glass, watching as the crimson liquid flowed out, reminiscent of the blood that once seeped from your now healed wounds.

"It's ironic, you know," you voiced out, unable to suppress your churning thoughts.

"What is?" He asked indifferently.

You weren't supposed to reveal it, you shouldn't have let the alcohol amplify your instincts.

You didn't bother to turn around, as your mind became chaotic the moment you let it all spill out for him to hear. "There was a time when I wanted to just rid myself of you. But now, I almost wish you didn't have to go.”

As much as you tried to find a reasonable explanation, you couldn't decipher what it was about Mihawk that had you so enthralled. You had only shared a few words with the man; he was a solitary figure with an apparent disinterest in anything or anyone around him, unless it involved a good fight. He was sent by the Marines to hunt you down, only to observe you and then let you be. He saved your life of his own volition, stating that he wanted to see where your path would lead.

He was a stranger, someone you might not encounter again anytime soon.

And somehow, irrespective of the influence of alcohol, you found yourself needing him.

Given that Mihawk had noticeably halted in his tracks, you anticipated him either distancing himself with a harsh retort or simply walking away, disregarding your partially inebriated state completely.

However, he didn't even budge, boring holes into your back with his hawk-like, fiery scrutiny.

You spun around, leaning against the counter and bringing the glass to your lips once more. "Stay safe out there, Warlord.”

How foolish did that sound? If there was anyone who didn't need to worry about a single thing, it was Mihawk. You had heard tales of how he could even slice a bullet in half when someone attempted to shoot him unawares.

And yet, a part of you still felt compelled to worry about him, to wish him safe travels, free from any potential hazards.

Silly, that's what you were. So utterly, ridiculously silly.

However, events took such an unforeseen twist that you didn't even know how to process it. Silently, he returned the sword to its original position next to the couch, before taking a few strides in your direction. He halted right in front of you, so close that you could feel the warmth radiating from his body. He simply inspected your puzzled face, quiet and thoughtful, while you could only return the stare with a questioning expression.

The moment he reached for his hat, your heart rate quickened, pounding so heavily that you could hear it in your ears. For the first time, he removed the accessory, liberating his head from its covering, and placed it on the counter right beside you. You observed his forehead, no longer in shadow, and his eyes seemed even brighter and more golden. The dark roots of his hair were impeccably combed and aligned, with his soft locks following the curve of his head and ending at his nape.

Unable to hold back, you let your eyes fall directly onto his lips. They were perfectly sculpted, the upper lip creating a sinuous curve, looking absolutely enticing and positively delectable.

He continued, slowly taking hold of your glass and removing it from your hands, only to gently place it on the other side of the bar counter. You were left speechless, bewildered, and at a loss for words. Your hands lingered in the air, now empty.

You wanted to ask him why he was standing so close and suddenly looking as if he wanted to devour you. You wanted to understand what was going through his mind, but you couldn't even construct a coherent sentence because he didn't give you the chance to. His fingers brushed along the back of your neck, sliding upward, and gathering a handful of your hair in his fist. He wasn't gripping you particularly hard, but his hold was firm enough that your head was gently tilted backward. Your pupils dilated, and his followed suit. He wasn't causing you any pain, not even the slightest bit... but you could sense the roughness in his actions.

“You do enjoy playing with fire, don’t you?”

His voice was low and alluring, his hot breath on your skin exhilarating.

You smirked, swallowing your nervousness. "What can I say? Water is for the weak.”

He hummed in his typical manner, seemingly approving of your comeback.

"I should warn you, I'm not the gentle type.”

You laughed, your breath slightly shaky. "Is that supposed to scare me off?”

Instinctively, your hands found solace around the edges of his coat, drawing him closer against you.

His grip on your hair slackened, but he kept you securely in place. "If it did, I would be disappointed. As long as you understand what to brace yourself for.”

"Why are you still talking?”

The corners of his lips tilted upward, so subtly that it could easily go unnoticed. It was a faint grin that made your knees feel weak.

“Not a worthy challenge, hey?”

In that moment, you understood he was referencing your earlier statement. You might have been utterly insignificant against him on the battlefield, but he was clearly viewing you as a great adversary throughout your intimate banter.

Somehow, that provided a significant boost to your confidence.

You tightened your grip on his coat, breathing against his lips, your own barely brushing his chin, eagerly anticipating his next move. "Still talking. Come on, you can do better than that.”

It didn't take long for him to finally relinquish his own inhibitions. Without any warning, he crashed his lips against yours, initiating what you could only describe as the most intense, sexiest, and passionate kiss a man had ever bestowed upon you. His mouth was so forceful and quick that you could barely keep pace; his tongue immediately found yours and initiated a sensual dance.

You didn't want to be left behind. Pushing aside the slight haze clouding your mind due to the wine, which you could also taste on his lips, you grasped the lapels of his coat and reciprocated the kiss with equal intensity and a mounting desperation. His fingers completely let go of your hair, only to fan out over your nape, enveloping it in his grip. His mustache and beard were tickling your face, but you found it absolutely enchanting.

Only when you felt the need to breathe again did he detach from you with a wet pop sound, immediately descending to your neck to plant open-mouthed kisses on its sensitive nerves.

You felt his touch on the front of your top, as his middle and forefinger started to tug at the laces, undoing the main knot slowly but with evident eagerness. He wasn't joking when he said you shouldn't expect the gentle type, as he preferred to get straight to the point without much preamble. Given his typically apathetic demeanor, you were taken aback to see him so engrossed in the situation, let alone in you. Never for a moment did you think he could view you in such a manner, and whether he was doing it now in response to your provocation, or because of a deeper interest that began well before that day, you weren't sure.

You surmised that he needed to let go from time to time to release his tension. After all, he was still a man.

And you were completely on board for it.

His lips were impatient, almost hungrily latching onto the skin at the juncture between your neck and shoulder. Your eyes rolled back into your head, and a soft moan escaped from your lips, which only spurred him on to touch you with even more force.

It was different, and it was new. But he wasn't causing you any pain, and this rougher side of him was rather enticing.

He lifted your top, the fabric brushing along your stomach, up to your breasts and over your chest. You silently complied, raising your arms and allowing him to remove the garment, which ended up tossed on the floor. His eyes were mesmerizing, and you couldn't look away.

Now, with only a thin bra as your shield, a surge of self-consciousness began to creep in. Despite this, you stood your ground, refusing to let it hinder you. Tentatively, you slid your hands along his arms, daring to rest your fingertips on his collarbones. He waited, motionless, anticipating more.

Your exploration continued, descending to his pectorals and lightly brushing the cold metal of his golden cross. Then, you moved back upwards, sliding your hands under his coat, gently pushing it off his shoulders to remove it. His skin was silky smooth and warm, it made your mouth water from your caresses alone. The coat dropped next to your shirt, and without it, he suddenly seemed incredibly bare despite still wearing his trousers and boots.

It was quite amusing to see. His coat was like a suit of armor, a cape, protecting him from all that was undesirable. And now, he stood there, a figure of strength yet imbued with vulnerability, prepared to surrender himself to you.

Once more, blinded by your desire for him, you fervently locked your lips with his. Your arms encircled his neck, fingers entwining with the strands of his hair. The discomfort of your back against the counter urged you to move away from it, unintentionally pressing your breasts against his chest in the process.

"Bed," you murmured amidst the flurry of kisses, just before you leapt into his lap, wrapping your legs securely around his waist.

It was a bold move, one that he welcomed with a firm grip and squeeze of your thighs. With careful steps to avoid tripping over the table and couch, Mihawk made his way to the mattress, unceremoniously hurling you onto it. You bounced as he climbed up, encasing you between his legs on either side of your body. His penetrating stare from above served as a vivid reminder of who was truly in command, eliciting a smirk of satisfaction from you.

His right hand gravitated towards the cross pendant on his chest, while his left one deftly located the knot of the black lace that held it around his neck. He loosened it, only to take off the golden cap of the cross, revealing a concealed small knife within it.

Admittedly, you were decidedly perplexed and anxious, observing him gaze down at you with the dagger held delicately between his fingers. However, the moment he guided the blade to your chest, positioned precisely above the center of your bra, his intentions became clear.

The instant he slid the knife under the band connecting the cups of your bra, you stopped him by seizing his wrist.

"Don't you dare," you warned menacingly. "It has a clasp, you know.”

The way he arched an eyebrow at you spoke volumes, subtly hinting that he had no intention of wasting his time with it.

With a frustrated groan, you arched your upper body, managing to reach the clasp yourself and unfastening it within mere seconds. "I swear, men can be so lazy at times.”

As you allowed the straps to slide off your shoulders, maintaining the cups in place, Mihawk reassembled the cross and casually placed it on the nightstand next to your bed. He immediately locked his mouth with yours, quickly removing your bra and haphazardly tossing it into the room, his hands simultaneously finding its place on your waist.

You could feel his palms smoothly traversing your sides and making their way up your spine, but the moment his fingertips grazed over some particularly sensitive scars, you jolted upward, and a muffled gasp slipped past your lips.

He paused, his actions coming to a standstill as he studied you. A sudden rush of embarrassment overtook you, prompting you to cast your eyes downward.

"Sorry about that," you apologized, your voice faint and almost inaudible.

You feared that he might decide to leave, irked or repelled by the unsightly network of scars that was ingrained into your skin, resembling an irregular spiderweb. You instinctively guarded your body, precariously perched on the edge of the mattress, awkwardly biting your tongue.

His tone was firm, authoritative, yet unexpectedly gentle when he spoke to you. "Show me.”

Before you had the opportunity to look at him again, he hastily guided you to rotate, nudging you to sit facing away from him. You found yourself frozen, rendered mute, with your arms protectively crossed over your chest as he inspected your back. He observed every nuance, carefully tracing the outlines of your scars with his index and middle finger.

When your voice finally found its way back, you released your pent-up thoughts. "It's not a pleasant sight, I know.”

"I've seen worse,” he stated.

He sounded unperturbed, casual, as if what he was observing was nothing to fuss over.

You smiled. "And done worse?”

"That might be true as well.”

Somehow, as macabre as the conversation was, it managed to lighten the mood, eliciting a brief chuckle from you.

“Are you scared of me?”

But then, his question took you by surprise. "No. Why?”

“You’re shaking like a leaf.”

And you realized that he was right, as your entire body quivered under his soft touch. Despite his inherent deadly nature, it felt incredibly soothing to have him attentively handle the scars you so deeply despised.

It was nothing he hadn't seen before. As a swordsman, he had undoubtedly came across countless injured and fallen bodies in all sorts of gruesome conditions. Your scars meant nothing to him, and yet, he behaved as someone who genuinely felt a need to reassure you about them.

In a way, you got the impression that he was attempting to make you feel proud of the marks you bore.

"I'm not afraid, Mihawk. Not of you.”

Should you have been, really?

"And right now... this feels nice.”

His fingers decelerated their movement, hovering over the lengthy scar that trailed along the back of your shoulders. He tuned into your breathing, shaky and rapid, using it as an indication for his subsequent moves.

He drew you closer, reaching out to guide your arms away from your chest, granting him a better view. The cool cabin air heightened the growing excitement stirring in you, causing your nipples to stiffen instantly. Releasing your wrists, his roughened palms smoothly traveled along your stomach, eventually encircling your breasts, now fully exposed. Holding their soft flesh and lifting them, his thumbs traced tantalizing circles around the tips, making you involuntarily lean onto his elbows for support.

You let your head find comfort on his shoulder, the slight prickling sensation of his beard grazing your cheek. He was relentless, teasing you with his enticing motions, awaiting the moment when you would unravel under his skilled touch. Already, you were a picture of disarray, moaning and squirming within his hold.

Both of you rose to your knees for better positioning, and as he continued to stimulate your body, you could increasingly feel his undeniable hardness pressing against you through his trousers. You grappled to maintain your balance, his thumbs quickening their pace on your nipples, while his hips executed synchronized grinding circles with yours.

To say he was driving you wild would be an understatement. One of his hands left your chest to venture lower, this time, making a beeline for your belt buckle. He quickly managed to undo it, slipping inside your undergarments, and reaching his intended destination.

The moan that escaped you was quite unabashed, but there was little you could do when his fingers discovered your clitoris, skillfully stroking it up and down. Any other man, upon getting to this point, would stop before you could reach your climax, purely to extend your pleasure and ensure that you wouldn't finish before them. Mihawk, however, was not just any man, and judging by the escalating pace of his fingers, it was clear that he had absolutely no intention of severing the physical connection.

He was typically impatient and easily bored, evidently searching for some entertaining diversion to pass the time. Edging you didn't appear to be his goal, and the moment you could sense your impending gratification, trembling and writhing uncontrollably, he applied even more pressure against you. You could feel your clit throbbing, on the brink of release at any moment. Mihawk remained quiet, not making a single sound, his breaths echoing in your ear through his nose.

It was intensely heated, unbearably seductive.

As your legs parted, he took advantage of the moment to gather some of your wetness and employ it to enhance the friction. Your nails dug into the flesh of his arms, yet he remained unfazed and continued. Eventually, he began to move in sync with you, navigating to your entrance and tenderly caressing your clit with the heel of his hand.

The ease with which he curled those digits inside and promptly found your most sensitive area was astounding. He targeted it directly, moving in and out, making a constant beckoning gesture with his fingers. Your eyes rolled back into your head, your voice growing progressively louder, but you found it beyond your control to rein it in.

Your orgasm crashed onto you, exploding from your core like a lightning strike. You jolted and moaned, gasping for breath, as the bed emitted creaks beneath you. He didn't retreat, instead, he slowed his pace but never fully disengaged. Only when he was certain you had no more to offer, did he carefully remove his fingers, affording you the opportunity to regain your lucidity.

It took you a moment to gather yourself, leaning over the mattress and collapsing onto it.

"Well," you declared. "You certainly know what you're doing.”

"Why, did you believe me to be completely inept?"

"Not at all. It's just... you really don't dawdle, do you?”

As you rolled onto your back, you nearly choked on your own saliva. He was hovering over you again, casting a menacing stare from above while he unbuckled his own trousers. Before you could fully process it, the gleaming, flushed tip of his member emerged from the elegant slit in the front of his trousers, a view that subconsciously incited forbidden imagery by putting his navel on display in a normal setting.

He appeared to pause, awaiting something. He glanced at you with a hint of expectation, subtly lifting an eyebrow as if conveying: "What are you waiting for?”

Thus, with your heart fluttering wildly and your stomach churning, you raised your hands to further uncover him, pushing his trousers down along with the undergarments and letting his arousal spring free. It was proud and formidable, as robust as a sword, as fierce as a beast.

Without waiting for him to speak or make any further action, you encircled the base with your palm and guided your hand along its length to the tip. He didn't overtly react, but you noticed him swallow subtly and press his lips more tightly together.

You replicated the maneuver, but with increased pressure and quicker movements. He kept his hands still at his sides, but his fingers twitched intermittently, indicating to you that you were on the right track. You cherished his calmness as much as you relished witnessing his chest heaving at a faster pace than before.

Regrettably, he didn't allow you to complete what you had started. The moment he decided he'd had enough, Mihawk grabbed your wrist and pushed your hand aside. He grasped the hem of your shorts and panties together, swiftly sliding them off your legs in one fluid motion.

He possessed no patience at all, simply taking whatever he wanted, repositioning himself between your legs and aligning with your entrance. As much as you would have loved to see him come undone under your touch, you couldn't truly protest, for you wanted him as intensely as he yearned to be inside you.

His face was stoic, unaltered, almost as if chiseled into a mask. But the way his golden eyes sparkled before you, and his jaw tightened in response to the palpable need overtaking him, managed to stir you even more than the sound of a man moaning in pleasure.

You shifted on the mattress, clutching the covers and spreading your legs further to grant him optimal access. Once again, he hummed in approval, encircling your thighs with his arms and drawing them to his waist.

But he silently stared at you, the tip of his arousal gently nudging your folds without proceeding.

Bewildered, you inquired. "What?"

"Are you truly certain about this?”

Your mouth fell open as you regarded him in disbelief. “I'm right here with my legs spread wide and your damn dick against me. It's a bit late to question me now, don't you think?”

He drew a breath through his nose. “Do you understand what you're about to get into?”

“Uhh… yes? We’re supposed to have sex here. What else could there be?”

Mihawk subtly thrust his hips forward, his warm length nearly entering.

"I won't be gentle," he responded.

“Yeah, you said that already.”

"Even if you plead with me, I won't stop.”

“Do you think I’d ever do that?”

You inferred he simply wanted to ensure you were granting him clear consent to continue. And while you strived to maintain composure, feeling him so close yet so far away, you held respect for his unconventional gentleness. Or whatever it could be called.

“You’re brave,” he stated with a hint of satisfaction. "But don't shed tears later.”

You rolled your eyes. "Mihawk, seriously. Just do it. If you believe I'll break and weep, then don’t.”

To further emphasize your point, you moved your waist allowing his tip to partially slide in. You bit your lower lip to suppress the emerging moan in your throat, and comfortably adjusted by raising your arm and positioning it just behind the pillow under your head.

You were presenting yourself to him, unconditionally, prepared to accept everything he had to offer.

Unable to resist his impulses any longer, Mihawk finally made his move. With a firm, confident thrust, he fully sheathed himself in you. A hiss escaped your lips as you inhaled sharply, your body pushed upwards, head thrown back in response.

You felt unbelieavably full, and without giving you a moment's respite, he quickened the pace. He moved with a rough, and powerful rhythm, his fingertips digging into your skin so deeply that you could feel his nails on it.

At first, your body stretched to accommodate him, a sensation that was slightly painful and not as pleasurable as you wanted it to be. But as soon as you adjusted to it, your muscles relaxed, leading to a wave of delightful ecstasy that ignited your core and sent electrifying sensations through your nerves.

And it felt unlike anything you had ever experienced.

Your moans were soft and melodic, contrasting with his quiet grunts that echoed in his chest. Mihawk quickened his movements even further, generating a set of scandalous sounds that deepened your blush. He was moving with such intensity that you feared your bed might split in half, given the way it vibrated against the wooden wall.

Then he stopped, albeit briefly, to guide you into a different position. "Turn around.”

There was an undeniable ecstasy in the way he treated you. His actions were primal, far removed from romantic, yet paradoxically, despite the evident force in his behavior, he still seemed to treat you with a degree of tenderness and delicacy.

You complied, bending over the mattress, and without wasting any time, he entered you again from behind.

Isaiah had been a wonderful lover, the best you'd ever had, until Mihawk came into the picture. Though you typically refrained from making comparisons, acknowledging that every man is unique in his own way, you couldn't ignore the irrefutable truth: the Warlord was in a league of his own, making you feel guilty for even entertaining such a thought.

The act was carnal and sensual, stirring within you a desire for more when you believed there was nothing else to ask for. He felt absolutely wonderful both in and out, and his touch, tracing over your scars with a strangely protective tenderness that you didn’t expect, ignited a flame in your chest that cascaded downwards. Your clit throbbed, your inner walls convulsed and gripped him with an impossible tightness. You could sense your climax approaching for the second time, spurred on by his relentless thrusts.

Neither of you spoke, but it was fine. You were engrossed in the moment, disregarding the ache in your limbs from the previous exertion. Letting go of the built-up tension post-battle was exactly what you craved, and Mihawk had his fair share of unsettled nerves too. For all you knew, he could have countless women scattered across the four Blues, but the desperate and hungry way his body melded into yours indicated that he wasn't one to frequently seek out or appreciate the company of others.

People often depicted him as a lone wolf, a man enamored with his sword. And yet, here he was, providing you with the most remarkable sexual experience of your entire life.

You found yourself entirely consumed, yielding to his dominant aura, continuously pushed against the mattress, moaning in delight. He had warned you that he wouldn't stop, not even if you pleaded with him, but the only entreaties that escaped your lips were for him to quicken his pace and to continue for as long as he could go.

When he brought his mouth close to your ear, prompting your knees to spread wider with his own, there was only so much you could do to prevent your core from exploding.

Mh. You're managing this better than I expected you would, I'll give you that.”

A chuckle bubbled up from you. "I thought you held me in higher regard.”

“I certainly do now.”

His left arm slithered around your shoulders, securing itself around your neck to encase you and hold you in place. His other hand glided along your side, sneaking to the front and locating your clitoris, so sensitive that you nearly climaxed the moment he pinched it.

You were panting quite heavily now, teetering on the brink of orgasm as you rested your cheek against his arm. You didn't even realize that you were pressing kisses to it, grazing your warm lips along his skin, which was hot and salty.

"Are you there?”

You nodded your head. "Almost.”

"Would you look at that. Your endurance is impressive.”

You laughed, a surge of pride filling your heart. “You're talking too much again, Warlord.”

“Mhh.”

You absolutely adored the vibrations that resonated through his chest whenever he hummed. You felt him pulsing and twitching inside you, signaling that he was as close to the brink as you were. As the resounding slaps of skin meeting skin filled the air around you, his fingers expertly manipulated your sensitive bud. His fingers stroked it, moving in rapic circles, combined with the consistent stimulation of your tender spot inside.

It was too much, and you buried your face in his arm the moment you finally crossed the point of no return.

Your second orgasm was even more intense than the first, a feat you never truly believed was possible. You twitched and trembled from head to toe, tightening around him with each wave of pleasure that took some time to recede.

Eventually, he joined you, quietly succumbing to his own pleasure, grunting softly and brushing his lips against the scar on your shoulder. You were aware that Mihawk did not harbor any specific feelings for you, but despite that, you found his gesture deeply endearing.

And with that, your heart constricted.

As the enchantment of the moment faded, he extricated himself from you and left the bed, fastening his belt and heading back to where his coat lay. As he slipped into it and reached for his hat still resting on the counter, you watched him. Disappointment washed over you for reasons you couldn't quite articulate.

Gathering your strength, you pushed yourself up from the mattress, hastily collecting your underwear and putting it back on, disregarding the shorts strewn on the floor. It took a moment for you to locate the bra he had tossed, which had ended up in a distant corner.

His golden cross knife was still on your bedside table. It felt significantly lighter than you had anticipated as you held it in your hand, lingering on its weight a moment too long. Mihawk was right behind you, his towering presence looming over your smaller frame, waiting for you to return it.

You turned immediatly, smiling, taking hold of the cord on either side and looping it around his neck. You tried to recall the exact length he preferred, gently positioning it on his chest and tying a knot to keep it in place. The ends of his short hair tickled your hands as you secured it, and he allowed you to do so without a single protest or complaint.

Somehow, that act felt even more intimate than what you had just done. His gaze was once again fixed on you, frozen, expressionless, difficult to interpret. The temptation to kiss him again was strong, but with the sexual tension now gone, you feared he might not reciprocate.

And so, you took a step back. "Thank you for the company," you said evenly, feigning indifference to the entire situation.

Whether he believed you or not, you couldn't ascertain. As he casually strolled towards the couch to get his sword, a surge of disappointment engulfed you, leaving you more downcast than you were prepared to acknowledge.

You knew it didn't mean anything. But for the very first time, a part of you had dared to hope there could be something more. You dragged your feet to the bar counter, picking up his empty glass from the table along the way. You quietly cleaned things up, letting the cold water from the sink cascade over your hands.

And just when you thought he had already left, he spoke words that instantly set off a flutter of butterflies in your stomach, soaring straight to your heart.

“Be careful out there.”

You glanced at him once again. His face was as impassive as ever, but the fact that he had taken a moment to express his concern was more than sufficient for you.

You grinned in delight. "Always.”

With a barely noticeable nod, he slung his sword onto his back and stepped away, opening the cabin door and disappearing up the steps. You stayed there, still, listening to the rhythmic sound of his boots meeting the wooden floor as Mihawk steadily departed, until silence engulfed your vessel.

You didn't know when or if you would see him again. The only thing you could do was hope that, sooner rather than later, you would encounter those mesmerizing golden eyes once more.

And as fate would have it, you did.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 (currently reading) Go to Chapter 4 ->

[izgnanik-a]

CoD ABC's

NSFW 18+ x Reader Edition - Minors DNI!

Masterlist here

R - Rough Sex (Phillip Graves x Reader)

Tags: degradation (names used: bitch, whore), p-in-v, semi-public sex, angry sex, choking/breath play, sex on a boat, unprotected sex

Not beta-read, we die like men 🤷🏽

Prompt: Graves had been getting on your last nerves, and apparently, he was on his last straw with you. His brute strength should have terrified you when he picked you up easily, but all of your anger left your body when you grazed the erection in his uniform pants.

The storage closet was small.

Too small to fit two electric bodies; shoving hands, tight fists, rough elbows.

Your back bit into the shelf roughly as strong hands kept you in place, you moved to bite but a roll of the ocean from the ship you were on threw you forward into the harsh vest of the man before you. The man who'd been on your last nerve since the mission started, and apparently you were his last straw.

Graves dragged you from the active mission at hand, and sealed the door shut behind him. He was all viciousness and hostility, and you were a heavy, lead mirror reflecting his emotions back at him.

He hated that about you.

He loved that about you.

And right now he didn't know if he wanted to wrap his hands around your throat until you stopped squirming because he was frustrated, or because he was turned on.

You growled. "You worthless, piece of-"

His hand clamped over your mouth tightly. "You shut your fucking mouth." He bellowed. His breath fanned over your face, exhausted from your struggle. "You are out of line. And I'm going to bury you so deep in paperwork, you'll never be able to step out in the field again."

You growled against his palm, pushing against his chest, but he forced you back against the shelves. You felt things hit your shoulder and you scrambled against him, hitting him in the vest, and then getting him in the jewels.

His hand loosened a fraction and you ripped his hand off.

You held firm to his evident erection. "I don't think that's what you want to do to me." You chuckled sardonically, "Who's going to tuck you in and fuck you if you send me away, you bitch."

Graves ripped your hand off of him, grabbing you by your vest, and forced your chest into the shelves. He ignored your hiss as he twisted one of your arms behind your back. "I can find any other warm mouth to keep me company."

"None like me."

Phillip's mouth came to your ear, hot and vile, "I can always do better."

"Whore." You said dangerously.

His grip tightened on your arm, and he forced his weight further into you. "I'll show you a whore." He grabbed you by the back of the neck while reaching around to unbuckle your belt.

You felt the ship spilling over another tall wave, your hands holding tight to the shelf as Grave's yanked your uniform pants from your hips. "We're going to die in here." You said before hearing and feeling his buckle hit your bare ass.

"You'll die a happy whore then." He said, changing his grip on your nape to the front of your throat, and holding his hard cock in the other hand. He squeezed your throat, "Spread your fucking legs."

You arched your back against him, bracing for impact. "Is it in yet? I can't feel it-" You choked against his tight palm as he sunk into your wet heat.

He shivered, gasping and holding onto the shelf beside your hand. "Soaking wet for me?" He chuckled against your hot neck. "And all I had to do was shove you around a bit and call you a 'whore'." He grunted as he pulled out and thrust back in. "You deserve this." Before pulling out, he sunk his teeth viciously into your trapeze muscle, and sunk in quicker than you could brace for.

He was too brutal, too quick - too good.

You gasped shallowly against his palm, whining up at the ceiling as he trapped your head against his shoulder. With his hips relenting like this, the moaning and groaning of the ship along with the thunder overhead masked the hammering of his hips. The slick sounds of your pussy around his cock only heightened as Grave's precum collected in your tight cunt.

He gasped in your ear, quick with every thrust. "I fucking hate you." He seethed.

"So mu- ch." You shut your eyes tightly, feeling your orgasm nearing.

"God," he squeezed your throat tighter, "You just never shut the fuck up."

Your eyes rolled back as oxygen cut, stars shot up in blue and yellow streaks behind your eyelids, and you were coming with a silent cry. Your knees gave way, and Graves wrapped both arms around your waist.

He gave two thrusts before he was coming, hot seed spewing into your abused pussy, and you gave a twitching cry as he gave finalizing thrusts to drive it home. He braced a hand against the shelf in front of you, the other kept around you.

His cock twitched inside, milking out, and you turned your head, feeling the back of his knuckles against your temple. His hand on the shelf crept under your head, cushioning it as the ship rolled again.

You collected your hoarse breath, still feeling the ghostly grip of his fingers on your throat, "You can't send me away."

Graves sighed against the side of your face, "I want to."

"But you won't."

He pressed his forehead to your temple. "But I won't."

[hyperfixat]

AI LESS WHUMPTOBER DAY THREE ISOLATED

support and engagement would really motivate me to help post and work on the rest of this stuff!

(@ailesswhumptober)

You stretch your arms up in the air as you yawn, rolling out of your bed on the Astral Express. The memories of last night are hazy, but you don’t linger on it as you head to your ensuite bathroom to freshen up for the day.

When you make to step out into the passenger car, pulling on the door handle, it doesn’t budge.

Odd.

Maybe March was playing a prank on you or something?

You call out for March, Dan Heng, PomPom, Mr Yang, Himeko, to no avail. You try the handle once again, before trailing back to your bed, picking up your cellphone to message the Astral Express group chat.

Your phone turns off with a click and you let out a frustrated sigh. Walking back to the door you rest your ear against the panel and listen for any signs they’re out and about.

Nothing.

With not much to do you plop back onto your bed, clicking open your phone to doom scroll until something happens.

You hadn’t known the express had docked. Though why Pompom would land at a planet hostile to… your kind?, humans?, or perhaps something to do with just discrimination. They claim you’re their favorite passenger, so it had to have been an emergency for them to stop… at whatever this planet is.

Your blinds had been closed for the night, and you think better of opening them, but you peek out from the bottom.

It looks like any other planet’s railway. Nothing looks odd or out of place; no ‘humans dni’ signs or posters. You wonder how they’re getting by, your crew, they’re all human-oid, no?

There’s a long period of waiting, maybe an hour, maybe more. Then there’s footsteps, heavy and en masse. Not just the Astral Express crew. These are the sounds of heavy boots, those of soldiers. You can hear March’s distinct tone, so it’s not a raid or something uncouth, she’s at least somewhat calm.

“—and these are the sleeping quarters! They’re all empty at the moment.” They’re getting closer. When they’re outside your door, strangers, hostile on sight to you specifically, “this room is empty. We can’t let you check his one room, sorry!” March giggles.

“We keep unstable synthesis materials in there.” Dan Heng explains levelly. “It would take too long to safely have you search it, we’ll be gone before you’d be finished suiting up.”

There’s a feminine voice replying in a language foreign to you.

“There’s no need for that, we’re leaving within the hour.” Welt.

Your heart stutters and you hold your breath as a hand jiggles your door handle.

“Let’s move along,” Dan Heng’s voice is firm and the shadows peering in from under your door disappear. His voice commands the enemy soldiers away from your door and you let out a quiet sigh of relief.

The soldiers soon file off the ship and your door unlocks with a click and Dan Heng opens it. His body fills in the door frame, stopping March 7th from running in.

“Dan Heng,” she whines, shoving him inside your room so she can bound over to your bed and jump next to you.

Himeko peeks her head inside, “Pompom says we’re taking off soon. Settle down you three.”

“Yes, Ms. Himeko~!” March giggles.

“Sorry about not warning you, we hadn’t prepared to land here.” Welt says from the hallway, looking at you. “We needed an emergency refuel before we could stop at the Xianzhou Luofu. I apologize for any alarm this extrusion may have caused you.”

“Thank you Mr Yang, I’m fine now. It was a little scary at first.” You laugh a little.

“Excuse me!” Pompom shoves past Himeko and Welt’s legs, waddling their little body into your room. They clamber up your bed and smother you in a hug. “Pompom is so sorry for landing here!”

“Aw, it’s okay Pompom. No harm no foul,” you pat their fluffy ears.

Their large eyes seek yours for a moment before they nod and hop off your bed, heading to the captain’s chamber.

“We’re leaving now. You all,” they deliberately look at all the passengers gathered around your room. “Get seated.”

[hitmanexchange]

Welcome to Sapienzanniversary 2024, a Flash Fest to celebrate Sapienza’s anniversary on April 26th!

Due to real life stuff, this year's Sapienzanniversary will be a flash fest, which means short creation period, but also low low minimum wordcount: 100 words (= a drabble). If you want to write more, you are very, very welcome to do so!

No prompts this time, everyone is free to come up with their own scenarios, as long as they're Sapienza-related. For inspiration, you can take a look at the Sapienzanniversary 2023 tag set.

Art is welcome! If you don't want to post your art to AO3, you can post it to Tumblr (Glaze and Nightshade are recommended; if you don't have a computer of if yours can't run Glaze you can get access to WebGlaze!) and use the tag Sapienzanniversary 2024 to have it reblogged to this blog.

Work reveals will be on April 26th, 16:59 UTC. This iteration of Sapienzanniversary won't have an anonymous period.

All characters, all ships, all headcanons are welcome.

Make sure that your fanworks do not contain any hostile elements towards people you disagree with in any part of the fanwork (title, tags, summary, author’s notes, body text). Refrain from adding DNI notes.

If you shame or harass other participants or non-participating fans, or if there are signs that you have deliberately caused problems in multiple events, your fanwork will be rejected from the collection.

If you want to participate but don't have an AO3 account yet, please slide into my DMs or send me an ask, either here on this blog or on my main @diana-fortyseven! You can also reach out per email: hitmanexchange+sapienza(at)gmail(dot)com

[girlcalledwhatsername]

I like supporting artists, especially young or new artists just starting out, trying to find their space. I believe it can bring a sense of community too, it's a good practice to have. That's why I often even reblog fanart from fandoms i do not even know about, fanart is how a lot of people get started, and ik it's often not taken seriously outside the actual fandom but artists don't get exposure that way, right?

But then I go to follow these artists - and this is mostly an experience with artists drawing/writing for fandoms - and there's a huge DNI (and don't we already know what all's gonna be there?) with very vile and violent language used, and on the one hand there's a vehement rejection of certain kinds of "exclusionary people" - but only certain kinds - and on the other open disgust for and exclusion of anyone who even interacts with "adult" content on their own. Not just posts, even just thinks kink is okay, that's reason enough for them to hurl abuses about it as if it's any of their business. And then of course your usual list of problematic interests and ships and whatnot with suicide baiting right there on the dni

And that sense of community vanishes swifter than water on hot coal

Something that could be a tool to be setting a boundary is instead mindlessly employed to be the most vile person possible to anyone who isn't "wholesome" enough. And it makes it clear that people like these don't understand community building in any sense, be it building a community with other queer people or even on a smaller scale with other fans. It's truly disappointing but there's such a drive to sanitise all of these spaces that used to be the home of the off-kilter, spaces that were subcultures and countercultures becoming hostile to their own niche under the guise of wholesomeness.

I'll always be standing by the freaks though because that's my idea of community and you don't get to remove all the ugly bits. The freaks built this city on rock n roll and you can catch my punk hands if you wander onto these spaces and try to get them to assimilate

[oscconfessions]

hello osc community, i’d just like to say this because of how out of hand the tacomic discourse has gotten on this blog

i am a former tacomic shipper. i realise now it’s kinda iffy and manipulative and toxic and yada yada yada and.. unfortunately, i even put an ask on this blog stating how mad i was about this ship. how toxic it was! and i’m sorry for that, it may be true but i was acting very hostile

i’ve changed now, and because of that i won’t go out of my way to witch-hunt tacomic shippers unlike SOME PEOPLE. yes, it is toxic, and yes it fits my standards of a proship. but i just say that proshippers should dni! and personally? i think that’s what you all should do if you REALLY hate it and it’s shippers so much

be respectful, it may be an unhealthy coping mechanism to use proshipping but either dni with those people or educate them politely and move on. you only do them more harm by purposefully interacting with those people just to throw crude insults at them

proshippers are not always bad people, most of the time they think it’s a healthy coping mechanism to deal with and process their trauma. it isn’t, but all we can do is inform those people of how unhealthy it is in a KIND AND RESPECTFUL WAY. RESPECTFUL DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT???

please, just tell those people to dni and move on. that is all you need to do in order to rid this kind of content away from your view

if you did, thank you for reading. and if you didn’t then here’s a summary

tldr: if you hate toxic ships, tell the shippers of them to dni and move on

-🤐

.