that-mallu-chick

[s0lemnhypn0s]

hello crossguild enjoyers

[fakescorpion]

Chapters: 2/2 Fandom: One Piece Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Crocodile & Dracule Mihawk, Crocodile/Dracule Mihawk Characters: Dracule Mihawk, Crocodile (One Piece), Buggy (One Piece), Cross Guild Additional Tags: Childhood Trauma, Blood and Violence, Body Horror, Mental Instability, Complicated Relationships, Complicated Friendships, Alternate Universe - Canon, Canon Compliant, Backstory Series:    Part 1 of once upon a fairytale  

Summary: Backstory for Dracule Mihawk and Sir Crocodile, the reason behind the formation of Cross Guild, and the shared traumatic history that leaded to Mihawk hunting marines and Crocodile chasing after the illusive title of Pirate King.

[humans-are-tasty]

recent cmms

[inquisitor-runa]

Who fell first and who fell harder - One Piece edition

Zoro: He fell first and harder

Law: You fell first, he fell harder

Kid: He fell first and harder

Luffy: You fell first and harder

Ace: He fell first and harder

Shanks: You fell first, he fell harder

Crocodile: You fell first and harder

Mihawk: You fell first and harder

Buggy: He fell first and harder

Sanji: He fell first and harder

Sabo: He fell first, you fell harder

Marco: You fell first, he fell harder

Doflamingo: You fell first and harder

Rob Lucci: You fell first and harder

Corazon: He fell first and harder (literally and figuratively)

[innerfare]

Going Down On You - Part 2

Summary: how they go down on you

Characters: Shanks, Beckman, Mihawk, Crocodile, Doflamingo, Corazon, Smoker

Genre: pure smut

CW: NSFW // oral sex, shameless dirty talk, Doflamingo is a menace

——— 

Shanks: 

Swears it’s a hangover cure, and this man is hungover every single morning. He’ll wake up with a pounding headache, and before he’s even opened his eyes, he’s reaching for you. He’ll paw at you like a lazy animal until you remove your panties for him and he can fall face first into your delicious cunt. He’s trained your cunt like Pavlov’s dog, too, so that you wake up wet in the morning, your clit throbbing like an alarm clock. 

“Always ready for me,” he’ll mumble in his raspy morning voice. “Nice and wet. That's my girl.” 

You actually get a rash on your inner thighs from his stubble constantly rubbing against your sensitive skin, and you have to sheepishly approach Hongo for some sort of cream. Hongo has been on the Red Force long enough that he’s not phased, though you are so embarrassed you try to ban Shanks from going down on you for a while (spoiler alert: it doesn’t work). 

“I’d rather lose my arm than skip breakfast.” 

He’ll spend most of his time between your legs licking with broad strokes of his tongue, only pointing it and attacking your clit when you’re already on the brink of orgasm. He’ll finger you as you cum and won’t stop until you’re a crying mess, begging him to stop. Of course, he’ll only stop for as long as it takes him to get his cock out and push it in. 

Beckman: 

"Come here, babygirl. That's it."

Beckman drinks your juices like a nightcap. He’ll put you on his desk, the moonlight filtering in through the window and a lamp flickering in the corner, and unzip his pants to give his massive erection some breathing room before turning his attention to his babygirl. He likes to start slow, taking his sweet time with your nipples and leaving a trail of hickies around them, before finally burying his face between your shaking legs.  

“Give daddy a taste.” 

He’s nice and sweet about it, but don’t think he won’t hold you down if you start to squirm around too much. He goes down on you like you need it, not like you want it; he goes down on you like it’s for your own good. It’s for his own good, too, that thing that takes the edge off and helps him wind down after a stressful day. He wants your legs wrapped around his head and your hands tangled in his long hair. 

Oh, and he wants you to tell him that he owns you. Nobody else is allowed to taste your pussy; it's all his, and you'd better chant that while he draws your orgasm out of you.

Mihawk:

A proponent of fine dining. 

Will eat you out on the table, which kind of makes you feel like he’s doing it in public because his dining room is so large and there are massive windows with no curtains covering them; his insistence on you removing every article of clothing, not just your panties, and sitting on the table, feet on the edge, holding your legs as far apart as they’ll go only makes you feel more exposed. All the while, he remains entirely clothed. 

He’ll scold you if you wrap your legs around him. It’s his meal and he’s going to enjoy it precisely the way he wants, and the way he wants is uninhibited. He drags it out, too, edging you multiple times and lecturing you about delayed gratification if you complain. When he does finally allow you to cum, he tortures your clit for a moment after to be certain he saw you through your entire orgasm.  

Other times, he’ll be sitting in his chair and see you walk by and say, “y/n, come here.” He’ll have you strip down before laying you on the coffee table and working an orgasm or two out of you. Enjoys it so much that at times when he’s training or preparing for something, he’ll ban himself from indulging in your pussy because he needs to be focused. 

Crocodile:

Sir Crocodile has a big cock, but he normally stretches you with his fingers. Oral sex isn’t foreplay to him, it’s a separate thing entirely. He normally engages in it very late at night or very early in the morning when he’s exhausted and you’re half asleep. He’ll run his hand down your body, stopping briefly to massage your breasts, before pulling your legs apart. 

“Wake up,” he might grumble in your ear. Or he might not, instead waking you up with a few kisses to your clit.  

He probably kisses your pussy more than he kisses your mouth. He’ll make out with your leaky opening, swapping your juices for his saliva, part of him wishing he still had his other hand so he had more fingers to torture you with. But he’ll settle for one, going back and forth between your nipples and squeezing them until you cry out, then squeezing them some more.  

He doesn’t talk to you while he does it, a far cry from how he mocks and argues with you during penetrative sex. When he’s in an especially bad mood, he doesn’t take his hook off, and you wake up with it pushing into the soft flesh of your thigh, a silent warning not to close your legs on him. And when he’s finished, he’ll push you back to your side of the bed without a word. 

Doflamingo: 

Part of being his toy means being tormented with his tongue. He has a fucking giraffe tongue, and he puts it to good use, often laying back in bed and making you ride it like it’s his cock, moving it out of the way and then making fun of you when you struggle. He makes you talk to him the entire time, and when you’re not sitting on his face, you have to make eye contact with him. 

He’ll talk to you, too, and is so fucking patronizing. 

“Use your words, little one. Come on, you can do it. Don’t tell me it’s too much for you.” 

Uses a lot of different toys while he’s going down on you, typically a butt plug and nipple clamps. Has most definitely used a transponder snail to take pictures of your wet pussy, flush and swollen after he spent an entire afternoon tonguing it; the clicking sound of the snail camera was so humiliating but it made your pussy throb so much harder. 

One of his favorite things in the world is tying you up with his strings and spitting on your cunt. He has, on a handful of occasions, tied you up and allowed his subordinates to lick your pussy, but never lets them taste your cum; right when you’re on the edge, he’ll take over and make them watch while he takes your orgasm all for himself, usually with his cock. 

Corazon: 

Eating your pussy is his stress relief. The number of times you burned dinner because you were cooking and he came home in the middle and bent you over the counter for an appetizer is unreal. He always apologizes, but he doesn’t feel bad enough to stop doing it; he can’t stop doing it. And you’d be cruel to make him considering you can feel the tension leave his body as soon as his tongue runs through your folds. 

“I needed this so bad. Thank you so much.” 

When he’s not bending you over a counter, he wants you riding his face, and none of that hovering shit, either. He’ll wrap his arms around your thighs and hold you flush against his face, moaning as he laps at your folds.

“I can tell you need it, too. Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ve got you.” 

He’s so sweet about it, it’s unreal. Smiles the entire time, places so many sweet kisses on your clit and opening. A big fan of the two finger and tongue combo. Can work an orgasm out of you in record time. Never fucks you without making you cum at least once on his tongue (he’s 9’7 and his cock is proportional). 

Smoker: 

Smoker almost always ends up eating his cum out of you. He’s gone for weeks, even months at a time, and when he walks through that door, you’re dropping your panties or he’s ending it all. He has so much pent up energy he absolutely has to fuck you, but that doesn’t change the fact that what he’s been jerking off to every night is the thought of tasting you. 

“Don’t think for a second we’re finished yet.” 

He’ll take breaks to kiss you on the mouth, making you taste yourself. And then he’ll work his way back down your body, leaving hickies on your neck and biting your nipples before he’s back between your legs again, pushing his tongue into your hole to get every last drop of both of your juices out, his thumb seeing to your aching clit. 

You won’t even make it to the bed, he’ll just fuck you against the wall or on the counter and then drag you onto the floor to lick your cunt. He’s attempted to get you to the sofa before, but you just end up pushed against it while still on the floor, or else bent over the arm or sitting on the edge while he kneels between your legs. 

Also, the two of you don’t shower together often, but for some reason, the times you do shower together, he always ends up with his face between your legs. You’ve wasted so much water because he can’t keep his damn tongue to himself. And when he’s finished, he always places a few sweet kisses at your entrance as if to reward you for behaving. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine helping Crocodile discover a new way to use his devil fruit

Before the cross guild's morning meeting

You: [watching Crocodile repeatedly thumbing the spark wheel of his sputtering lighter, attempting to light up a cigar] I have a question.

Crocodile: [cocks an eyebrow over at you for your audacity, lips still stubbornly clasped around the cigar]

You: Using your sand, how fast can you get your sand particles to move?

Crocodile: [uses his hand to show you he can move them faster than your eye can see]

Mihawk: [stops reading the newspaper to look up at you]

Buggy, the one who invited you: [looking nervously between you and Crocodile]

You: can you do that while compressing the particles?

Crocodile: [shrugs]

Mihawk: [mildly suspicious of you] Why?

You: [looks between the three men, to realize you might have fucked up, so you start back-pedaling] Oh, no, uh, I just figured if he compressed his sand while trying to circulate it rapidly, the friction would create enough kinetic energy to produce heat that was hot enough to light his cigar. I wasn't, like, meaning to offend.

Crocodile: [lifts his finger in front of him and tries what you just said, and gets it to glow red with heat]

Buggy: UHH?

Mihawk: ( = _ =)?

Crocodile: [lifts his cigar to the glowing whirl of sand pulls off the cigar, and chuckles, swirling smoke escaping his nostrils] Oh this will bring so many more possibilities to me.

Buggy: great, nice going jackass, now he's even more powerful.

You: You probably could use it to cook someone.

Crocodile: excuse me?

Mihawk: shut up, little bird, stop giving him ideas.

Crocodile: [Cages you against the couch with his arms and leans in close] Keep talking, I want to know what fucked up thing is floating around in that little head of yours.

You: [pulls away from him and averts your gaze]

Crocodile: [uses his hook to pull your chin towards him to make you look at him] Look at me when I'm talking to you.

Mihawk: [sighs loudly and leans back in his chair] Leave them alone, Crocodile.

Crocodile: [ignores them] tell me

You: if you have enough sand to encase someone, you could cook them alive.

Buggy: That's kind of scary, kid.

Mihawk: [runs his hand over his face] What the fuck.

Crocodile: [laughs and ruffles your hair after he processes your words] I like this kid, good job Buggy for finding this one.

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

[kaivenom]

Hey hey!! Can you do the op dilfs reaction to reader who sleeps naked? 👀

One Piece Dilfs reacting to reader sleeping naked

Characters: Doflamingo, Mihawk, Crocodile, Smoker, Shanks

A/N: I hope you like it, it turns a little NSFW, but what other reason would the reader have to sleep naked?

Masterlist

Dracule Mihawk

I picture him sleeping naked or sleeping with a victorian nightgown, either way he doesn´t seem impressed by your naked body.

He just lays on the bed like a husband dying from influenza and sleeps buuuuut...

He has your naked body next to him and his mind knows so his dreams start to get a little horny.

Unconsciously his body starts to roll to your side and hug you from behind.

You smile noticing that, Mihawk could be very stoic but when he is asleep is when he is really vunerable, and emotional.

He starts dry humping your leg and moving to your crotch.

You just let it be, thinking it's just his unconcious body doing what he needs, but in reality, Mihawk is wide awake.

Donquixote Doflamingo

Many people thinks he will wake you up, WRONG.

He will put a challenge to himself: doing everything he can to you without waking you up.

He is big, really big so it's difficult for him to not wake you up with his mere weight on the mattress, but he tries... every single time.

He some times is able to sink his cock into you and other times he can't even put his hand on you... your sleep habits are very unpredictable.

He sometimes is more respectfull like brusing your inner thights, carresing your breasts, kissing your neck, etc.

Other times he is just all tongue on your cunt instantly and moaning like a mess.

One ocasionally situation when he doesn't try to do anything to you is when he is specially sad/nostalgic about his past.

Then he wakes you up and lays his head on your chest to just ear your eartbeat.

Sr. Crocodile

Spents like half an hour watching you sleep, building up his excitiment to approach you.

He wakes you up with a slight touch.

"Hey brat, what were you thinking going onto bed naked? You wanted to tempt me?"

You woke up slowly, with a smile on your face.

"Maybe"

"Then you have to get a punishmet but right now both of us need a reward, no?"

Simple and direct, just like his deals in job. He just wants to be with you in that moment.

Smoker

A little shocked at first, ¿what if somebody else came into the room instead of him?

But then he stares at you, ass up and just so peacefull.

He starts to feel hot and hard, even if he wouldn't admit it to anyone.

He says to himself that he is a better man and starts to wander around the house, moving and doing stuff, trying to relax his mind.

The thing is that he ends up in the bedroom every couple of minutes.

Everytime examining your body more and staying more.

He tries to shower but when he is about to enter the bathroom, he just regrets it.

He enters the bedroom so disturbed that he woke you up and instantly felt bad, all the hotness was thrown away.

Well, that was until you smiled at him and invited him to join you in bed.

He tried to continue with his rude being but as soon as you touched him, he started to melt in his softer side.

Akagami Shanks

He laughs like really loud and in consecuence, wakes you up.

He then starts to aproach you with a devilish smile.

The bed cracks with his weight and you start considering covering yourself with a blancket, that smile doesn't inspire confidence.

One word, animal.

Don't ask why he got so riled up but you know the how.

Being naked on bed, pretending to sleep, just waiting for him to come and see you.

That thing made a click on his brain and he just couldn't get enough of the view or you.

But all with that stupid grin, half love dork half savage animal.

[fanaticsnail]

Dreaming of You

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 1,100+, 1,700+, 1,700+, 1,400+

Synopsis: They couldn't help it. You looked so heavenly in their dreams. The way they had you wrapped around their body as a marionette in their minds, dancing for them as they awoke to sticky blankets when they jolted upright. Their thoughts got the better of them, and they are wracked with guilt. Sir Crocodile, Buggy, Dracule Mihawk

Warnings: wet dreams, afab!reader, swearing, masturbation, dub con (Using your image to masturbate to), suggestive content, feelings, all individual 'x reader' drabbles, same reader!insert different outcome, chop-chop fruit shenanigans, angst, romance, smut, kissing, NSFW, 18+, MDNI.

Notes: Dreaming of You Masterlist Here, Please read the warnings. I am having a lot of fun with this series, but this one got away with me. They're only meant to be silly little drabbles between larger fics. Sorry for the lengthy read! Enjoy playing the part of a marine spy for Cross-Guild!

Tag list: @sordidmusings @nerium-lil @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @indydonuts @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @carrotsunshine @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @lostfirefly

Hips pressed against one another, huffing pants and gasps were collected in one another's lips and skin as he pinned your back against the wooden wall behind the burgundy curtains of the tent door. Legs collected over his hips, he held your left thigh in his right hand, his forearm caging you by slotting up between your right shoulder and the cool surface. 

Lusting and passionate, he drew intentional thrusts that were slow and deliberate enough to brush at your g-spot and mold your pussy to the contours of his thick cock. He slacked his jaw, his eyes swimming with emotion as he ground his pelvis against your clit with every heavy thrust. 

Your voice whimpered for him, stifling your mewls of pleasure by biting down into his shoulder and crying as he bullied his cock into your needy pussy. He groaned with you, rocking his cock in slow, languid thrusts up into your body. 

“Please,” you begged him, desperately clawing at his back and peppering his shoulders, neck and jaw with enthusiastic kisses, “We don't have long until the others come back.” He growled at your words, offering you a particularly mean thrust forward and a cruel bite against your neck. 

“A-Aah!” you gasped in shock, biting your lip and digging your nails into his shoulders harder. He sheathed his entire length greedily into you, his shaft twitching in bliss the moment he felt his blunt tip brush your cervix. His hips stapled yours against the wall he was bullying you against. 

“I don't care if they hear,” he barked against your neck, tracing his tongue over the bruise forming from his bite, “I don't care if they see.” He pulled back his hips only slightly before immediately propelling himself forward and forging his body against yours like soldering iron to a hot blade. 

“Let them hear,” he admitted, huffing against your neck as he rocked his hips into yours, removing his hand from hooking around your thigh to grip your neck and bring your gaze to meet his. “Let them see.” He plastered your parted lips with his own, desperate with tongue and teeth as he released your neck to hold your thigh once more. 

“I want them to hear,” he groaned into your mouth, rolling your cheek with his chin and kissing down your jaw, “I want them to see.” He trailed his needy kisses down your neck as he doubled his effort and sped up his rhythmic thrusting. 

As your core sucked him in each time he retracted, his mind was lost to him and was filled with primal desire. He needed them to hear your sweet moans and whimpers. He needed them to see who was making you feel this good. He needed you to know who you belonged to. 

“Say you're mine,” he growled, his lips mouthing up your neck, over your jaw and to your cheeks, “Say it.” He sped up faster, his cock hammering into you with every cruel, frenzied thrust. His hair was sticking to the dewy sheen of sweat against his forehead and neck, his brows furrowed as he glared into your eyes with an intensity he had never felt in life prior. 

“Say you're mine,” he barked at you, commanding you to fulfill his desires as his cock twitched within you. Your walls beckoned him closer, the thump of your ecstasy wringing his cock as he pistoned it within you had him desperately whimper and whine your name. 

“P-Please say you're mine,” he implored you in desperation, his fingers clutching your thigh in a heaping fistful as he continued to chase your mutual highs, “Tell me. Tell me your mine, and I'll be your slave.” He begged, kissing your lips and panting through his thrusts, “I'll be yours. Is that what you want?”

He chased your mutual high faster, rocking and pummeling into you with his heels digging into the floor. His belt buckle jingled atop his pants pooling at his ankles, your own pants discarded beneath you long ago. Leaning down, he took your peaked nipple into his mouth and rolled it over with his tongue.

A string of saliva attached from his lips to the puckered bud when he pulled away, huffing and panting at the lustful display of your breathing hitching. Body bouncing in sultry ripples with each thrust, he groaned as he felt his abdomen tighten with a familiar call of his imminent release. 

“Yes,” you whispered his name suddenly, clutching his neck and carding your hands through his hair, “Yes, I want that. I want you-...” You whined his name as he pistoned his length deep within you, “Please, I'm yours. Only yours.” 

He growled his pleasure at hearing your words into your lips, tongue lapping with yours and his hair brushing against your forehead. You hastily tugged him away from your lips by gripping the scruff of his neck and pulling hard. 

“W-What? Why are you-?” He began, his words halted by the intensity of your gaze. Your lips were parted, face flushed from a higher rise of hazy temperature, and skin forming lustful bruises and mapping his treasure with his marking kisses. 

“Make me yours,” you gasped at him, panting as your lust eclipsed your eyes, “Cum in me. I want it. Need it.” His eyes widened, and his jaw fell slack as his hips staggered their vicious thrusting deep inside you. 

“Fuck, I-I’m gonna-...” His abdomen tightened further, his eyes glowing black with luminescent lust as his seed spilled inside you with hot spurts, “I'm cumming-... hhah-... I-I’m cumming…f-f-fuck-...” Rope after rope of translucent cum released within your walls, the rhythm of your own ecstasy milking him with squeezing grasps on his throbbing cock. 

You called his name, throwing your head back as he trailed his eyes over your skin with adoration within his bliss. He couldn't get enough, reaching forward to collect your lips beneath his in a scorching mess of lips, tongue and teeth. With a desperate kiss to mold him against you completely, he forged an unspoken covenant to ensure you knew you were his and he was yours. 

Opening his eyes, the image of your blissed out afterglow faded from his vision. All that he was met with was the ornate ceiling in his bedroom, his cock twitching through the final waves of untouched pleasure. 

“No,” he growled, removing his duvet with his right hand and glancing at the lustful dance his swollen cock twitched with. A last spurt of cum spilled from the glossy slit and he immediately thrust the ruined blanket on top of his stomach to shield it from his sight. 

“Fuck.”

Sir Crocodile 

He balled his right fist, slamming it into the mattress beside his hip with a rumbling growl in his chest. Inhaling deeply, holding it for a few seconds, and exhaling slowly had him assess all that occurred to him with his night vision moments ago.

“Please say you’re mine. Say you’re mine and I’ll be your slave,” his own voice echoed in his mind, “I’ll fall to my knees and worship you in all ways. I’ll treat you like the deity I know you to be, showering you in praise and praying at your altar. Please.”

“I’m yours,” you whispered with half-hooded lessons, “I’ll only ever be yours, Sir Crocodile. Only yours.” He snapped his eyes awake, clenching his jaw impossibly tight and drawing his brows down in fury.

“I begged?” he snarled, reaching for a cigar and his flint-lock lighter, “I begged to claim you as mine?” He clicked his tongue before biting down on his cigar, lighting the end with a small flame and sucking in a sour lungful of smoke, “Utterly ridiculous.” 

Pulling the duvet away from his lap, he growled at the sticky ooze pooling at his abdomen before squaring his shoulders and walking to the adjoining ensuite in his master bedroom. The Cross-Guild tent did not have many luxuries, but he refused to go without simple pleasures while working with the disgusting clown. 

A bath was one such pleasure Sir Crocodile would not live without.

Running the water, he dropped each foot into the tub and sighed out at the contact of the freshwater rising to his thighs. The heat and steam eradicated his shame from his abdomen without much effort, melting it down and washing it away beneath the water. Groaning, he looked to his absent left hand and gazed down at the scarred stump. 

“We don’t have long until the others come back,” he heard your voice echo within his mind, drawing himself back to the dream and causing him to grimace in annoyance. He circled his palm and fingertips over his left forearm and molded the flesh within a firm grip. 

The pains on his phantom limb had returned, his mind racing and attempting to draw up distractions by any means necessary. Your midnight illusion was simply the latest commodity to preoccupy his attention with lustful desires, is how he rationalized such a shameful intrusion. 

He was a fourty-six year old man, not some prepubescent teenager so consumed with the need to fuck that their minds dreamed it into an untouched and sticky reality. The pain intensified, his teeth clamping in a rough hiss as the illusionary throb of his hand caused him to shake his arm from his grip. 

This was going to be a long and tiring day.

At the meeting, he was being short and harsh with anyone and everyone to cause him displeasure. His teeth snapped barks, his chest rumbling his fury and his hair was beginning to become disheveled. The clown was aggravating, and the swordsman’s silence was not as refreshing as it was under usual circumstances.  

His right hand only ever left his left forearm for the chance to draw up a cigar, yet the sour smoke did very little to soothe his pain, and his hand only seemed to make the intensity of the throbbing worse. As Mihawk and Buggy stood to leave the room, he remained behind and he finally hissed out a lengthy growl behind his clenched teeth at the pain. 

There was not a sound in the room, a slight ringing in his ears as the pain reached his head and dizzied his mind. Eyes scrunched tightly shut, he had no context for a gentle touch on his hand over his forearm until he snapped his purple eyes up to meet with yours. 

“Allow me, Sir Crocodile,” your smile illuminated your face, gently suggesting with your touch to remove his right hand from his left forearm. He attempted to fight the urge to bark at you, snap at you and give in to his desire to have you touch him. 

“And just what do you think you’re doing, Marine?” he growled, eyes narrowing and lips curling up into a deep snarl, “Who gave you the right to touch me-?”

“Oh, shut up. You've been horrendous today and I refuse to have this continue to be cause for your disgusting attitude,” you bit back, your own lips pulling back to reveal your snarl, “Let go of your arm and let me help you, damn it.” He immediately dropped his arm in favor of gripping your neck in a tight choke, bringing your face closer to his. 

“You dare to give me orders, Marine?” he roared at you, your teeth gritting back the pain and glaring into his eyes. “I was a former warlord, little spy. Now I hunt and kill your kind for a living.” As Sir Crocodile monologued, he remained ignorant of your hands working to find the clamps of his prosthetic hook and releasing the golden cover from his arm. 

“And now you touch me, spy? Offering me what, exactly?” he continued monologuing as you removed his hook and rolled up his embroidered sleeve. The pain in his forearm was so intense he could barely feel any relief of tension come from releasing his limb from the confines of his hook. “How are you going to help-... A-ah!” He gasped, his brows tugging up in the center of his forehead as he glared at you. 

Immediately releasing your neck, he looked down at his bare forearm within both of your hands and bit back a whimper. In his own grip, his scarred forearm felt hot and throbbing beneath his cooler temperature. In your warmer hands, his arm felt encased in an encumbering embrace like hot stones sizzling on a damp surface. 

Your thumbs traced the contours of his muscles, dipping between his bones and rolling his muscle between your fingers. The heel of your palm added a tight pressure to his ache, his breath coming out in rough pants the longer you held him in a tight grip. His eyes softened, his scowl loosening from anger to pain. 

Hissing and panting, an uncharacteristic whimper fell from his lips as you silently focussed on working the flesh within your skilled grip. Circling your thumbs and contracting your hands, you instructed him with calming and soothing words. 

“Deep breaths now,” you whispered in a slow and intentional hum, “In when I squeeze, and out when I release.” He nodded his head, feeling the soft roll of your hands over his skin. As you tightened his grip, his chest expanded with a lengthy inhale and exhaled as you withdrew. 

Repeating that motion, he felt the tension in his mind begin to release him from his illusions. Focussing on your movements as your voice soothed him with each direction, he didn’t expect his emotions to overcome him at such kindness. Your hard contractions over his arm eased up, your fingertips tracing the scars on the vacant nub and causing his flesh to tingle beneath it. 

“Better, sir?” halting your soft motions, you gently placed your hand on his forearm and held faint pressure over his skin. Reopening his eyes, he felt tangible relief wash its way over his face. Gazing into your eyes, you held nothing but empathy and gentleness in your twin orbs. He leaned down over your face, bringing contact between your two foreheads and offering you the slightest of smiles. 

“Why would you do that?” he whispered in an uncharacteristic soft voice, “Touch me like that? Offer me such kindness after all that’s occurred between us?” He raised his right hand and cupped the back of your head in a firm grip to hold you against him. 

“You didn’t kill me the moment I stepped into the red tent,” you smiled warmly at him, “Nor did you kill me any day thereafter.” Giving his arm another gentle squeeze, you glanced down at his missing limb and offered him a melancholy smile. He growled at your confession, searching your eyes for a further explanation. You huffed out a sigh, smiling further with a soft twitch up your cheeks. 

“I used to do this for my friend back at the marine base,” you offered him a glimpse at your history with your explanation, “Did it all the way up until the day she died. Said something about my hands feeling warm against her skin, different to her own temperature. Soothing.”

He chuckled at that, nodding against your head and closing his eyes shut in momentary bliss. That was why you felt so good on his skin, your skilled motions causing him aid and relief. You have done this before, and were offering it freely to him. 

“Oh?” he asked, his smile tugging at his cheeks and elevating the scar over his face, “And did she manage to say what she did without you by her side to aid her?” You laughed at him, breaking away your contact from his forehead and scrunching up your nose playfully. 

“I was always by her side, sir,” you confessed to him, nodding as you spoke, “She and I were inseparable, even in cabin quarters.” He nodded in understanding, looking down to his limb and back up to your eyes. 

“Well, if that’s the only solution for the pain I’m encountering,” he uttered, his lips curling into a wide smirk, “I would see you gather your personal effects and move into my cabin beside the tent, immediately.” You laughed at him, rising from his side and beginning to leave the meeting room. 

“I hardly think that would be appropriate. Don’t you agree, sir?” you question him, collecting your bag from the circular table in the center of the room. As you moved to leave the tent, a strong forearm snaked around your chest and grasped your shoulder, tugging you firmly into a broad chest. 

“Wasn’t a suggestion, Marine,” he whispered into your ear, the smooth rumble of his voice shooting tingles up your spine and causing you to gasp. “You’re mine now. Hear me?” He grazed his lips over your cheek and down your jaw in a slow motion. 

“Mine.”

Buggy

“Oh, what the fuck?” his nasally voice huffed, his makeup free face flushing with a hefty sprinkle of dark blush, “You’re fucking kidding me.” He reached down to his cock and fisted it in a pistoning motion. 

“Had to be you, didn't it?” he cursed your name in a pouty snarl, “The fucking spy.” He swirled his cock in his palm, growling at it before he simply detached it with his balls and brought it up to his face. He frowned in a deep scowl, drawing up his heckles as he began chastising his cock. 

“C’mon, man! How could you do this to me?” He growled at his cherry-red knob, choking it in his fist, “You think this is fucking funny? You think I want to see ‘em like this?” He drew up his other hand and slapped his knob, his pelvis wincing in response. 

“Out of bounds,” he berated his cock, “The spy is out of bounds. You know the spy is out of bounds.” He pinched his knob, choking it and only making his pleasure heighten. “N-Nnngh-... Not for thinking about, not for trying to fuck.” 

He whimpered, his priorly ruined orgasm still gluing his duvet to his stomach. He growled, hocking a wad of spit behind his lips. He spat on his cock in an attempt to degrade himself further, only leading to lubricating his ministrations and causing him to throw his cerulean colored hair back into his plush pillows in bliss. 

“Hhah-... The spy is not for you, you fucking idiot,” he gulped his confirmation, his cock thrusting itself in his fist beside his head as he frowned at it, “Think about something else,” he closed his eyes, meeting the thrusts of his cock with his hand as he tried to think about anyone else he could sheathe himself in. 

“Buggy, I-I’m gonna c-cum-,” he heard your voice whimper at him, his cock twitching in his hand beside his face, “Buggy, please can I cum?” He shook his head, attempting to picture anything else. Faceless breasts bouncing, ripples of an ass jiggling, parted lips panting and huffing with eyes scrunched shut-... Your voice calling his name with adoration pouring from your lips like honey. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted, shaking his head and attempting to go back to the earlier images. He only pictured your hair, your skin, your perfume, and your lips behind his eyes. Those lips used to spell secrets, split in a perfect ‘O’ as he pictured you slicking his cock up in your needy cunt with your erupting ecstacy milking him of his heaping load. 

“Fuck! No, no, no, no, n-oooh!” He threw his cock away from his face to not shoot himself in the eye with his release. It spattered the wall in a secondary wave of sticky cum like a grenade exploding on impact. “Nnnngh-... F-Fuck. Fu-uck-... C-cumming-.” His abdomen contracted as he rode the remaining waves of his orgasm untouched and unstimulated. 

Ropes of guilt shot out of his small slit and coated the wall and floor in a sticky pile of pearlescent cum. He groaned your name, huffing and panting as his hips bucked up in an attempt to stimulate his detached cock. 

“N-... No…” he whimpered, bringing his palm up to his face and clapping it over his lips. “Not the spy. I can't-... I can't have the damn spy. They're a bloody marine, you fucking idiot,” he degraded himself further, rising from his bed and wiping his abdomen of the solidifying globs of sticky cum with his duvet. 

He reached his cock, staring at it as it looked like a pathetic, slobbering drunk as it lay in a pool of its own drool. He clicked his tongue at it, picking it up and dusting it off before reattaching it to his pelvis. Readjusting his balls, he found his red jumpsuit and messily thrust it over his body in one swell motion. Instead of throwing his arms through the sleeves, he tied the material around his waist and offered to remain shirtless. 

“Not the spy,” he whispered to himself as he exited his ornate living quarters at the Cross-Guild base. Making his way to the kitchen, he was halted by a soft hum reverberating around the room. 

A familiar somber tune painted the air with its melody, his eyes shutting and the corner of his mouth ticking up as he listened to the lyrics. Stepping into the room, he attempted to mask his nerves with his signature mischief written on his face. 

As he drew his eyes over your features, your back facing away and staring out the window by the sink, he couldn't help but have the mask of protection slip away. Your lips whispered the lyrics, your heart carried the tune. You were not in your marine uniform, nor were you adorning the attire Sir Crocodile purchased for your protection. 

You were dressed in simple, gray-coloured slacks that hung loosely around your hips. The top you were wearing was a cropped t-shirt with his Jolly Roger printed on the back. His lips parted in shock as he drank you in, listening to your soft singing and closing his eyes to experience it fully. 

Before he could manage to say a word to reveal his presence, your hums ceased and your voice lowly uttered your apologies. 

“Sorry, Captain Buggy,” you bow your head to him in greeting, “I was not assuming the three of you to be awake so early. If I bothered you with my noise, I apologize.”

“N-No bother,” he huffed your name and hastily gave his reply to you with a soft blush, “I-... I haven't heard that song since the old days. Way back when-... When Roger…” He trailed off, looking at a point just beyond your hips and against the sink beside you. 

“I love the old shanties,” you chased his gaze with your own, angling your chin down and attempting to pry his eyes up to meet yours, “They're either about drinking, fucking, or grieving.” Buggy met your gaze, grinning up at you with his teal eyes beaming. 

“Ah, two of my favorite pastimes,” he added his commentary, leaning in closer and a cheeky smile pulling at his cheeks, “I’m not one for fucking.” He shot you a wink, prompting you to laugh at his joke. Your laugh was music, each soft teeter was as radiant as a lilt from heavenly minstrels. After teetering off your laugh, he offered you a soft smile with his eyes wide and curious. 

“Would you mind…?” Buggy trailed off again, nervously clutching the back of his neck and cringing through his smile, “...Could you perhaps tell me why you decided to join us, again?” He released his hand from his neck and darted his eyes between yours. 

After taking a moment to collect your breath and mull over what it was he asked of you, shrugged and offered him a simple answer. 

“The Berry is good, and it’s mutually beneficial,” you nod at him, smiling with your answer, “You were the one who offered me a choice, remember?” Crossing your arms, you leaned your hips back on the sink and glared at him, “It was either: spy for the marines as a triple agent for your Cross-Guild with a livable wage, or have Crocodile or Mihawk take my head. I chose you, Captain.” 

As Buggy was reminded of his prior actions and offered you a sheepish smile in response. Stepping forward, he reached for your forearms and waited for you to flinch away or chastise him for such a soft gesture. In the wake of such a softness, he was pleasantly surprised when he felt your fingers interlace with his own and hold them beside him.

“You know, ‘m sorry ‘bout that,” he mumbled, looking to his toes and pouting his unpainted lips, “Didn’t mean t’ have it sound so bad.” You smiled in response, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze and angling your chin down to look at his uncovered fingers. 

“You know, you’re actually quite handsome,” you confessed in a breathy whisper, “The infamous Captain Buggy D Clown, genius jester, king of fools, and calamity of chaos.” You named his titles with a soft smile, looking up into his rainforest-colored eyes with such gentleness. 

“You-... You think I’m handsome?” He asked you, your soft laughter prompted his own to slip freely into the air. You unplaced your right hand from his left and cupped his cheek within your palm, running your fingers through his hair. 

“You’re usually dressed in makeup, with your long hair tucked under your hat,” you collected a strand between your fingers and rolled your thumb over the lengthy blue locks, “And, you usually don’t have this much skin revealed.” Looking down at his chest: his messy blue hair trailed down his chest, tapered off at his stomach, and picked up again like a cerulean trail leading to the assumed treasure beneath his red jumpsuit. 

“I’m not used to seeing this much of you, Captain,” you muffled, drawing your gaze back up to his with a rapidly broadening smile, “And I’m not mad about it.” Your eyes creased at the corners as you offered him a toothy grin in response to his vibrant blush.

The hue of his cheeks rivaled that of his nose and jumpsuit, his eyes almost weeping from the rapidly rising blood pooling in his face. His Adams apple bobbed at the compliment, gulping back a dry pit in his throat and swallowing it. 

“Y-You know,” he stuttered, chuckling to cover his nerves and squeezing your remaining hand in his in two short motions, “I… I take back my earlier sentiment, uh-... If you’re interested?” He continued stuttering and choking on his words as he clumsily cartwheeled around his intentions.

“Oh?” you smirked at him, raking your fingers through his hair and darting your eyes between his, “And what was your earlier sentiment again, Captain?” You trailed your fingers down to the end of his lengthy locks. 

He gulped his terror and humbled himself by offering you a short, huffed laugh. After taking a moment, his eyes twinkled in mischievous hope as he rejoined your eyes in a smiling gaze. 

“I am one for fucking…”

Mihawk

Amber eyes stared in horror at the ceiling, wide and unblinking as he replayed the final moments over and over again in his mind. He drew his right hand down to grasp around the steel girth of his deflating cock and wield it in his firm grip. 

“I want that. I want you, lord Mihawk,” You whined his name as he pistoned his length deep within you in his mind's eye, “Please, I'm yours. Only yours.” His breath hitched in his throat, his eyes twitching but remaining staring vacantly at the ceiling. Thumbing over the prior release, he hissed in agitation the moment his fingers collected his viscous eruption. 

“How fatuous,” he snarled, raising his duvet once more from his waist, “So puerile.” His face remained vacant, his eyes holding only a touch more agitation than his usual persona as he walked to his ensuite shower. Turning the taps, he didn’t wait to feel the rise in water temperature. 

Stepping into the freezing water, he made no reaction as the icy liquid pelted at his skin; not even blinking to dampen his rapidly drying eyes. The water began to elevate in temperature as he released his cock from the grip. Gathering his sandalwood soap bar in his hands, he began lathering himself in foamy suds and washing over his body with his shock and shame still evident on his features.

The only time he closed his amber eyes was when he washed over his face, scrubbing at his whiskered chin and massaging his cheekbones. As soon as his eyes closed, he only saw your face contorted in pleasure, your ethereal moans freely haunting him in his ears. Shaking his head beneath the water, he only saw your face and imagined your hands clawing at his back beneath the water. 

Horror and shock eclipsed his eyes upon reopening, his eyes remaining that way as he concluded his shower, dried himself off, applied his cologne and skin care products, and dressed himself in his pants and greatcoat. His fingers stuttered over the lacing on his outer greatcoat, his lengthy necklace almost choking him as he placed it over his neck.

Almost stumbling into the dining space, he searched in his mind for a reason something so juvenile could occur for someone of his age, standing, and stature. He had gone for so long without taking a lover, he barely felt any lusting urges overcome him anymore. It didn’t suit his routine, his monotony, or his lifestyle as a former warlord. 

His apathetic and bored stature coming from a place of loneliness in his sovereignty as World's Greatest Swordsman. His achievements were already so vast, and he had nobody to share them with - nor a desire to begin a courtship with someone akin to his title. He had no time to take a lover, no time to indulge in whoring as it took away from his duties tending his garden in Kuraigana, and his bounty collecting as Marine-Hunter for Cross-Guild. 

So, why did his mind replay your pleasure over and over again in a loop of falsified memory? The marine spy, the confidant to cross-guild, the whispering oathbreaker; all the titles he sought to bestow you with. His hands reached for the bottle in front of him, clasping the green glass in his hands and uncorking the waxy tip. Pouring the rouge liquid into a crystalline glass, he felt a presence to the side of him.

“Could you spare a glass for me, my lord?” your soft susurration drew his attention back to the present, prompting his eyes to flicker to you. He witnessed your soft smile, your gaze assessing his face and shoulders.

Wordlessly, he reached for another glass and began readying it for you. The dry liquid coated the glass, a soft drop spilling from the rim and down the stem which caused you to knit your brows in concern. 

“Everything okay, my lord?” you asked, reaching for a napkin and beginning to clean up the mess, “You seem out of sorts this morning. Berry for your thoughts?” You dabbed at the table with the wafer-thin paper and tidied up his spill without a second thought. His eyes followed your motions, almost viewing the dabs in slow motion the longer your hands lingered near him. 

His silence seemed to perplex you further, turning your shoulders and leaning your hips back against the marble counter and staring up into his unblinking eyes in response. His shaking hands reached for his wineglass and drew it up to his lips. His mustache dipped into the liquid, messily staining his upper lip with the tart tannins. 

Gazing at his shoulders, you noticed a loop of his shoulder straps seeming to bubble within the corseted lacings, your hands absentmindedly straightening the bonds without much thought. Mihawk choked on his liquid the moment your hands brushed against his shoulders. 

Feeling the warmth float from your fingertips to the exposed skin beneath the weighty jacket, his eyes widened briefly and his pupils narrowed in an accusatory glare. Huffing a nervous laugh as his soft choke and shaking your head, you reached behind you to the pile of napkins and began to raise it to his face and lightly pat at his stained skin. 

Reactionary, he immediately placed his glass down behind you with his right hand, his left clapped around your invasive wrist in a circled vice-grip. Your breath caught in your throat, darting your eyes around his face with your eyes wide and panicked. He immediately drew his face forward and captured your lips beneath his without restraint. He hummed into your lips, raising his right hand and carding his fingers through your hair to deepen the passion.

Lips, tongue, and teeth pulled and tugged at your mouth from the swordsman, his gentle moans and sharp breaths depicting his wanton need to join himself with you immediately. He was pent up for so long, restrained for so long, and his body betrayed him in a shameful display in his dreams as proxy to such desire. If his overnight visit from you as his midnight muse spoke for anything, it was that his needs were now becoming more insistent, prominent, and desperate to be satiated. 

And you were who he wanted to aid him in such a task. 

Your hands raised defensively beside you, your eyes were wide and staring at his furrowed brow and tightly clamped eyes. He continued pressing heated and passionate kisses against your lips with gusto. Not giving you time to adjust or react, he anchored himself between your legs and pinned you against the marble dining station. Lips trailing to your cheek and down your neck, he bit, nipped and sucked at your revealed skin. 

His hands looped around your neck and shoulders, drawing you against him with an incessant need to depict to you his desires with his unyielding grip. You gasped as his lips traced up your skin and returned to your lips, your hands dropping to brace yourself beside you on the marble surface. 

Pulling his lips away, he held your face stationary by palming at the scruff of your neck and holding your attention with his honey-colored eyes. His predatory gaze narrowed in on you as his bruise-kissed lips ticked up in his signature smirk. 

“There,” he snarled at you in soft agitation, before releasing your neck. He collected his wineglass and green bottle from behind you, keeping his face in close proximity. His smirk drew up further as he turned to walk away from you. 

Calling over his shoulder, he snickered his taunting remark at you before leaving through the door, “Now I can occupy your thoughts the same way you've been tormenting me in mine.” 

You stood there stunned, frozen in place as your lips still tingled with the feeling of his against yours. The silky scrape of his neatly cropped beard tickling your cheeks, the way his tongue brushed with yours, and the animalistic desire to consume you with his lust had your soul ignited. 

Turning to the marble bench, you claimed your wineglass and raised it to your lips, immediately gulping back the tart liquid in a heaping swig. Placing the glass in the sink, you stared at the door Mihawk just left through, your thoughts spiraling and sifting through all the possible scenarios of what his words meant, and what the kiss means for you now. 

Only Mihawk knew what he intended with the kiss, and after the morning meeting, he was going to give into his desires further and offer you a place in his bed to have his dreams become reality. 

[pocketwei]

Happy CrocHawkSmas!! Here's my piece for the crochawk server's Secret Santa, my beloved giftee is @/eriochromatic who requested Western AU CrocHawk (with Mihawk being a bounty hunter-type of cowboy, and Crocodile being a corrupted businessman) <3

Loved painting this so much!!

Timelapse under the cut!

[thebisexualdogdad]

could you do preferences for what the one piece boys would be like getting a blowjob from reader for the first time?

Luffy -

Luffy doesn't even know what's going on, one minute you're making out and the next minute you're getting on your knees in front of him.

“Hey what are you doing down there?” He asks innocently.

“I'm about to give you a blowjob,” you chuckle.

“A what?”

Of course he wouldn't know what a blowjob is, you just laugh and shake your head continuing to get him out of his pants.

The moment you take him in your mouth his eyes go wide and he's about to feel a way he's never felt before.

Zoro -

Zoro leans back and relaxes while you give him a blowjob like he gets so relaxed he could fall asleep.

But he doesn't, I mean he could cause he can fall asleep anywhere so you wouldn't put it past him to fall asleep while his cock is in your mouth.

Anyways, his shirt is off, hands resting behind his head giving you the perfect view of his abs and biceps while you give him a blowjob, what more could you ask for.

Sanji -

Sanji is surprisingly nervous, it's certainly not the first time he's been in this situation but he had been pining for you for so long that he was afraid of messing it up.

He kept offering to go down on you first but you insisted on taking care of him after watching him cook a whole meal for the crew and spilling wine on his shirt which he then took off to clean it before it stained.

You had him pushed against the kitchen counter, him gripping the edge for dear life as you gave him the best blowjob he's ever had.

Usopp -

He can't contain his excitement for what's about to happen, he's heard guys talking about getting blowjobs before but he couldn't believe he was actually about to get one himself.

“Usopp you need to relax,” you tell him.

“I'm sorry I’m just so excited,” he chuckles awkwardly.

“Clearly,” you laugh with his hard cock already dribbling with precum in your hand, “just don't get too excited that you finish before I even get started.”

Ace -

Ace is normally the one pleasuring his partners which he in fact has done for you multiple times already.

You really wanted to make him feel as good as he has made you so you insisted on giving him a blowjob despite him telling you he'd rather go down on you instead.

He's big on praise, telling you how amazing you are, running his hand gently through your hair.

Of course afterwards he must return the favor and makes you see stars cause he's an expert with his mouth.

Buggy -

Buggy can't stop talking, going on and on about some new bit he's planning for the show.

“Buggy are you seriously thinking about that while I have your dick in my mouth?” You state.

“Hey I'm a good multi-tasker,” he tells you.

You shake your head and get back to work, Buggy never shutting up until you get him to cum.

Shanks -

Shanks is a gentleman who would never ask you to do something so crude.

But then you take him by surprise when you push him down onto the edge of your bed and you're sinking to your knees.

“Y/N, love, you don't have to do this if you don't want to,” he says genuinely.

“Shanks I really want to,” you reassure him.

He would never say no to you so he lets you continue and let's just say he may be asking you to do that more often.

Mihawk -

He literally polishes his sword while you're sucking him off.

He's completely silent, cleaning blood off his sword from his last kill while you bob your head.

“Did you enjoy it?” You ask him after he cums.

“Yes it was nice,” is all he says and then he gets up still naked to go out back and sharpen his sword on the whetstone.

Smoker -

Smoker just straight up told you he wanted a blowjob after a long day of work.

You returned to your quarters and as he was changing out of his uniform he said, “you know what would be really nice right now?”

So there you are, Smoker standing half dressed with his cock in your mouth.

He can get pretty rough, tugging on your hair and pushing on your head to take more of him but he surely makes up for it when he takes you to bed afterward.

Crocodile -

Crocodile has had plenty of people on their knees for him and he sweet talked you into doing the same.

He's sitting on his throne completely relaxed while you bob your head up and done as he gives you praise.

He tells you how he's been wanting you to do this ever since you joined the baroques work.

Another agent walks in and he doesn't even care, he handles the business as you're proudly sucking him off.

[s0lemnhypn0s]

(Crocodile genderbenders DNI)

ship dynamic

[hey-august]

[Cross Guild Headcanons] That time of month

Finally got the motivation to knock this out after receiving this ask!

Warnings: NSFW, female reader, crocodile x f!reader. mihawk x f!reader. buggy x f!reader, period sex, oral f-receiving while on period, descriptions of blood, mild descriptions of violence but no violence or use of sharp objects during sex

🐊Crocodile🐊

You're on top, hands on his broad chest, and grinding down on his thick cock. Croc is blissed out, eyes open juuuust enough to watch your sinful ride.

Looking down, you notice smears of color you didn't expect. Something that explains why you felt extra horny and extra wet. Your fucking period made it's grand arrival.

You move to get off, but Crocodile stops you. He holds you with his hook. The metal is cold against your hot skin, sending a shiver through your body that earns a groan from the man beneath you.

"Keep going, don’t you dare stop."

Crocodile rolls his hips, prompting you to keep moving. Even though you try to gracefully take your leave, he doesn't want you to. And truthfully, neither do you.

"Fuck, that’s it, impale yourself on my cock. Stuff yourself."

His eyes are open and trained on you. He's thrilled watching you fuck through the initial embarrassment and discomfort, giving into the pleasure only he can give you.

"C’mon, let me fuck the cramps out of your womb."

Crocodile holds you still with one large hand and fucks into you, hard and deep. He can't decide what's a better view - his cock covered in your blood, or the beautifully whorish expression on your face.

Even after you've both cum, he continues to thrust in and out, mixing all of your fluids together. So fucking beautiful.

🦅Mihawk🦅

Mihawk has you on all fours, one hand braced on your shoulder and the other on your hip, pulling you back to meet his thrusts.

One time he pulls back and sees red smeared on his length and collecting at the base of his dick.

This one look turns him feral. Wild. It’s like a switch flipped.

It isn't the first time Mihawk has fucked you on your period. It's nothing new. But it's a more-than-welcome surprise for the swordsman.

His mind is filled with visions of slicing, the sound of clanging steel, blood pouring - it’s too fucking much. The brutality of his life mixes with the hunger you have for each other.

Mihawk doesn’t want to hurt you, he would never. But he's bloodthirsty and only you could satiate him. Only you could take him like this.

"That's it, you're taking this so well."

"You were made for this, you were made for me."

Mihawk spreads your ass so he can watch his slick and blood covered cock slam into you. He can just imagine your slackjawed expression as you cry out and cum on him.

Immediately after filling your cunt, Mihawk pulls out and shoves his face into your sopping hole, eager to have your blood on his tongue.

🤡Buggy🤡

You are bent in fucking half while Buggy screws you into the mattress. With his hands behind your knees, he looks down to watch where your bodies connect and sees the blood on his cock.

His movements pause and he's about to tell you, but then you say the words that have him twisted around your finger.

"Don't stop. Keep going."

There's no way Buggy would disobey those orders. Not when you you look him right in the eyes and ask so fucking sweetly from a mouth that was gagging on his dick moments ago.

So he keeps going, using his cock to stab into you, again and again and again. His thrusts are rough and mean, just how you like them.

The blood doesn't actually phase him. If anything, it's thrilling. He relishes each gasp you make every time he enters your body and leaves it bloodied.

"I'm going to ruin you," he promises.

Buggy will make good on that. He knows how to turn you into a filthy mess, and this time will be no different. He'll have you cumming on his cock until your eyes have rolled back, your legs are numb, and the sheets are stained.

When it's his turn, Buggy finishes by pulling out and stroking his cock, smearing the blood all over his hand, and coming on your stomach.

And then he'll admire the mess he made. The ruined mess you let him turn you into.

[humans-are-tasty]

crochawk exchange for @eriochromatic

[sillylilili]

Fem Cross Guild + Shanks cards request

[innerfare]

Sex Toys - Part 2

Summary: What are their opinions on and how do they use sex toys? Mostly just them using vibrators on afab!reader, mentions of a few other toys. 

Characters: Shanks, Beckman, Crocodile, Mihawk, Smoker, Doflamingo, Corazon, Marco

Genre: pure smut

CW: NSFW // lots of toys

——— 

Shanks: Kinkiest man alive, more than willing to incorporate any number of vibrators, plugs, and cock rings into your routine, but he likes to do his own dirty work and get you off with his mouth. Despite being more of a titties man, prefers butt plugs to nipple clamps, but uses them sparingly. Only on the nights when daddy dom Shanks comes out to play do you end up on all fours with both holes full and his calloused hand around your throat. 

Beckman: Keeps a vibrator in his desk drawer to use on you when he’s working late and you come looking for him. He keeps another on the nightstand because it’s a really good way to loosen you up and prepare you to take his cock (big dick Beckman is basically cannon). He doesn’t really use it on you while he's inside you, though, because you end up clenching much harder on his cock and it makes you so sore (downside of big dick Beckman). 

Crocodile: Has made you sit in his lap with a vibrator against your clit more times than either of you can count. When he’s finally finished working, he’ll put the vibrator away and bend you over his desk. Has a habit of binding your hands to the headboard and leaving you with a vibrator between your legs for as long as it takes him to sit back and smoke a cigar at his leisure.

Mihawk: Definitely has a pair of fur handcuffs hidden somewhere beneath his bed (and Shanks has definitely used these handcuffs on him). It’s a tossup as far as who ends up in them- sometimes it’s you, sometimes it’s him. Prefers a whip to a paddle, likes to use it and have it used on him. More than happy to use a vibrator on your clit, but he’s not going to take it upon himself. You’re going to have to ask him, and you’re going to have to do so very politely. 

Doflamingo: The sort of man to have a sex dungeon. In lieu of that, he’ll at least have a chest full of toys that he takes great pleasure in using, things you’ve never even seen before this man is torturing you with them. He typically ties you up with his devil fruit power before digging through the chest for something fun to torment you with, teases you mercilessly. Definitely has bougie cock rings, the kind that cost a small fortune. 

Corazon: Such a sweetheart. When he finds your vibrator on your bedside table, he can’t help but tease you about it, not because he wants to make fun of you but because he can’t think of a better way to bring it up in conversation. He’s so curious about it, he just can’t help himself. That curiosity leads him to ask more and more questions, until finally, you’re on your bed holding it between your legs so he can watch, eventually allowing him to take over while he fucks you. Overstimulation > teasing, as far as Cora is concerned. 

Smoker: This man is gone a lot. Even if you’re in the Navy and in the same unit that he is, he has a habit of going off on his own. Thus, you have to be able to get yourself off, which he understands. He’s chivalrous, too, so he didn’t make you pay for your own toys. You have a nice collection of vibrators and dildos to get yourself off with, though he doesn’t really like using that stuff on you himself. He might do it when he’s feeling extra kinky, but he really prefers it to just be the two of you. 

Marco: Almost clinical in the way he goes about it. He noticed very early on in your relationship that orgasms help relieve your stress/anxiety levels, so if he doesn’t have very much time to devote to you, he makes sure to whip out a vibrator and get you off with it. He doesn’t typically use it during sex, but he will let you hold it to your clit while you suck him off. Also has a habit of falling into bed drunk and pressing a vibrator to your clit just for fun. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[factorydefaultlu]

You Tell Them "It's too deep."

One Piece x Reader

Pulls their cock/strap out a bit. "I'm sorry baby, I just got too eager." tries to keep a shallow rhythm, not wanting to hurt you. Might get a bit too eager and go too deep again though.

Sanji, Luffy, Usopp, Koby, Ace

Scoffs and rolls their eyes, "This isn't too deep." then they push their cock/strap further in, making you whine. "This. Is too deep." they pull back out a little and fuck you the way they were originally.

Robin, Nami, Law, Zoro, Helmeppo, Garp, Mihawk, Zeff, Boa Hancock, Shanks, Smoker

Smirks and thrusts in further, loving the way you writhe in pain. "Oh I'm sorry, I didn't think we were doing this for your pleasure." then makes you take every inch of them.

Crocodile, Doflamingo, Buggy, Kuro, Arlong, Alvida