Tumgik
#this is the warlord i told you about
therelentless · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝕹𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖔𝖗 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕽𝖊𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖘 // 𝖊𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖘 ∞         ↳ { WRITING PARTNERS MAY REBLOG }
16 notes · View notes
neverendingford · 11 months
Text
.
#thinking a lot about morality and utility versus absolute and picking fights with my father and christian friends about the nature of people#morality sometimes does have to be learned. I was a significantly more shitty individual back in 2015 when I got on tumblr#but I learned that community is important. they violence in defense of others is justified required and admirable#I learned that emotions that are commonly considered negative can always be channeled into something constructive#that tumblr post about a selfish warlord protecting her kingdom because THEY'RE MY PEOPLE AND YOU CANNOT HARM THEM#it sticks with me because the transformation of “negative” emotion into a force that creates and grows and thrives and protects#sure. tumblr is mental illness dot com. but the ones who have lived this long? they turn it into recovery and thrive dot com#tumblr is the hellsite and this volcanic soil is fertile. we grow life out of these ashes.#the ones who haven't killed themselves or been killed are the ones who know what it means to survive.#the ones who found the way out. the ones who are willing to fight to wake up happy. to defend what they know it's precious#I learned that loving people can be a selfish thing#if friendship makes me happy then should I not make friends? if being kind makes me happy should I not then be kind?#I hug a crying person because I care about them but also because it makes me feel better to care.#I feel happy when I am protecting other people. when I am caring for someone.#I feel fulfilled when I drive to a friend's house and get them away from their abusive family for even just one night.#I care about others but I also care about myself. christianity told me to sacrifice myself. to burn myself on a pyre of divinity#tumblr dot edu told me “love yourself or die trying”#I wish I had periods so I could paint with my own blood without having to cut myself open.#I genuinely wanna learn how to draw blood so I can paint with my own blood without resorting to knives#poetry feels so much more meaningful when it's crafted from my own flesh#a thousand words written in meat and bone can never say what my actions will.#I try to describe in a chorus of screams and cries what I can express with a single squeeze of my fingers against your palm#I reach out to hold your hands as you cry and a new wing appears in the Library of Babylon.#you laugh and kiss me gently and bookshelves spring into being to describe the electricity that passes from your heart to mine#I want to love as relentlessly as the ocean. others can be soft like a river. I can only beat like a storm against your windows#how can I discover this ache in my heart? how can I pluck it out and tie it to these pages that I might not feel it throb in my chest
0 notes
undiscovered-horizon · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
[To be loved is to be changed. And while being married to you has changed Mihawk, it's not entirely for the better. He's a possessive and protective lover to the marrow of his bones.]
(TW for unwanted sexual comments)
Mihawk knew the name 'Shantaro' quite well. Any time you told him a story from your adolescence that revolved around borderline illegal, unethical or simply reckless adventures, Shantaro was there. The little devil on your shoulder but as reliable as a true angel.
He, however, never expected you to run into Shantaro on the odd night when the two of you can go out. Comfortably basking in your presence, Mihawk is thoroughly enjoying your undivided attention.
Until.
You're suddenly rendered speechless as you notice something - someone - over his shoulder. A wide smile spreads across your face. Mihawk is unsure whether he should rejoice with how beautiful you look or seethe, knowing that another person dared to distract you from him.
"It's Shantaro!" you squeal excitedly. "I'm sorry, love, I'll be just a moment. I haven't seen her in ages!"
Mihawk doesn't even try to stop you as you make your way through the crowd at the lounge. His watchful gaze follows your steps as you approach a stringy woman in a silver dress. A hurricane of black curls sits on top of her head. Her piercing, grey eyes notice you, suddenly widening with both surprise and happiness. The two of you engulf each other in a bone-crushing hug, silently exchanging feelings of longing towards the closest friend from younger years.
The swordsman's night, however, is about to get even worse as he hears someone behind him whisper:
"She's a minx, that foxy wife of yours."
He turns around with his jaw and fists clenched. Mihawk's enraged gaze meets the face of an amused man who is casually sipping on his drink. There's a glint in the stranger's eyes that makes the swordsman's skin crawl - he wanted to get under Dracule's skin.
"Don't look so surprised," the stranger reprimands him. The man must have mistaken Mihawk's baffled expression at the bold words for genuine surprise that someone put two and two together. Truthfully, he couldn't care less whether people know that he's married. "Many pirates get hard fantasising about having their way with the Warlord's wife." Judging by the way the man licks his lips and hides a certain hunger behind his eyes, it's clear he's part of the aforementioned group. "But the Warlord himself? Unfortunately for him, she turns him soft," he drones the word as though it's a serious insult.
"Yes, she does," Mihawk answers slowly.
The events that followed happened exceptionally fast: Mihawk reached for the stranger's neck and slammed the man's head against the bar counter. Curiously, people happening to be in their vicinity carry on as though nothing bizarre is happening - they are smart enough not to get in Dracule Mihawk's way, especially when he is visibly upset.
Blood is gushing from the strange man's forehead, his eye already beginning to swell and change colour. The swordsman tilted his victim's head back just enough to lean down and growl. "Which is why I'm going to kill you much faster than you deserve for your offence."
Mihawk glances in your direction. You're still occupied, excitedly telling Shantaro about the years after you've last met her.
He'll be done before you notice him gone.
3K notes · View notes
dexlexia · 5 months
Text
how to deal with 3 warlords (while pregnant) - cross guild x reader
pairing: dracule mihawk x buggy the clown x reader x crocdile rating: 18+ summary: Three warlords, three of the most vicious men in all of the world. And somehow, someway they are at your beck and call. What started out as an arrangement with Sir Crocodile turned into a liaison with Mihawk and somewhere along the way you ended up in bed with the clown. tags: long fic (over 5k), polyam!cross guild, smut, pwp, table sex, couch sex, lingerie, slight possessive behaviour, good ol' time, fingering, outdoor sex, clothed sex, cowgirl position.
join me on discord! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Tumblr media
Three warlords, three of the most vicious men in all of the world. And somehow,someway they are at your beck and call. What started out as an arrangement with Sir Crocodile turned into a liaison with Mihawk and somewhere along the way you ended up in bed with the clown. 
Now you were living quite well in a large manor on some island in the southeast. You spent most of your days reading, you had even taken up a little gardening. Anything you wanted the Cross Guild got for you. Not many people were living like you on the Grand Line. 
Then it happened. You ended up pregnant by one of the idiots. One of the three men was the father of your child. You expected to be on the next boat off the island, but none of the men were willing to send you off. They wanted to make sure their little lady was taken care of. While they bicker over who the father was, they each made sure you were taken care of. 
  ”Can't you hurt now.“ Crocodile told you as he brushed his fingers through your hair, ”If it isn't my brat this time, it will be next time.“ And he almost smiled around the cigar in his mouth.
So that was how you became the lovely wife to three of the most dangerous men on the high seas. And sometimes you wished their boat would sink. 
At six months pregnant it wasn't easy to get around, you spent most days rubbing the sore spot in your back and hobbling around the manor. Most of the time the men kept to themselves and allowed you freedom to roam around the place. 
There was something about the manor you quite enjoyed, even if the men barely got along they still cared deeply for you. You had the pleasure of being called more beautiful than any treasure. But it was Buggy who told you that and then he promptly passed out from too much liquor. So the compliment only went so far. 
It was a home, even with three fearsome men, you still were happy. You thought of it as a way to keep the men in check. You were like the glue that held them together or prevented them from killing one another. It wasn't easy work but it was your work. 
-
You rubbed your achy lower back and huffed, ”You better come out easy, or we're going to have a problem.“ You then poked your swollen middle. Your current wardrobe was clothing that belonged to the men. You hadn't had much time to find cuter clothes so you often were dressed like a mob boss or a gothic swordsman or a fucking clown. But none of them men minded, to be fair they'd preferred if you were naked. You however refused to give them the satisfaction.
You weren't a toy to be ogled at, and if any of them treated you like an object they'd be out on the yard before they could finish their sentence. You refused to raise a child to believe that a woman would be under a man. Even if their father was a warlord you'd teach them compassion and kindness in an unforgiving world. 
It was the least you could do. So even with the aches and pains you were happy to carry such a precious gift. You gave your belly and soft pat, ”I'm not mad at you“ You said, ”I just want everything to go smoothly, I'm excited to meet you. And the boys will love you too. They might be a bit much but you'll always have a home.“ 
  ”Talking to the baby again, I see.“ You heard.
  ”Crocodile.“ You responded as you looked up from your swollen middle. Hand on your lower back once more, ”I thought you were busy, Mihawk told me that.“  
You'd say out of the three of them, Crocodile was the most ”attentive“, there was a charm to him that you couldn't deny. You understood why he was able to charm his way through Alabasta. But anything you needed he got for you without question. He often enjoyed your pregnant state, the idea that he bred you so well left him excited. Such a good girl carrying his spawn, and if it happened that the baby belonged to the swordsman or the clown, he'd make sure that next time he finished the job. 
  ”I'm never too busy for you. Where are you going anyway?“ He asked,“If you need something, I will get it fo you.” He approached you and leaned down to caress your bump, “You will need for nothing. You should be resting.“
  ”I have to move sometimes, Crocodile. Even with the pains in my lower back.“ You huffed as you rubbed the sore spot, ”Can't be bed bound forever.“ 
He chuckled and kissed the top of your head, ”If you wanted a back rub you should've come to my office. Mihawk is too rough with you and the clown is an idiot. So why don't we get what you need and head to the bedroom.“ He leaned further down and kissed you on the lips.
You cupped his face and looked at him, ”If you can get me the ice pop from the freezer in the kitchen I'll happily accept your offer.“ And gave him the biggest puppy dog eyes you could muster. 
He chuckled, ”You always know how to get your way.“ Then took you by the hand, ”Why don't get go before the clown takes all of them.“ Then he started to slowly walk to the kitchen on the lower level.
The warlord had a soft spot for you, he was enamoured by you. You were so small compared to him yet you held your own. The kind of woman who would bear his young. 
Soon you were seated at the massive dinner table happily enjoying the blue ice pop that was in the freezer with your back turned to Crocodile. His hand was on your back slowly massaging the aches and pains on your lower back. You could tell he was getting aroused by the closeness to you. You smiled to yourself as he rubbed at your back. 
  ”How's the child doing?” He asked as the hooked hand reached around you and carefully rubbed your bump, “Is he behaving?”
You chuckled, “We don't know the gender of the baby.” And took another bite of the cold treat, “You better not be disappointed if they're a girl."
He chuckled and pressed at a sore spot on your back, ”I could never, not with you.“ Then pulled away, "You're still a marvellous sight, even this far in. You're a beauty to behold, little one.“ Then leaned in to get a good feeling on the tenseness of your lower back, ”You're a good girl, right?“
You turned your head to look at him, ”You're not just being nice for sex are you?“ You reached over and stroked his face, ”Right?“
He moved back a little, “No, of course, I'd only have sex with you, with you permission.” He swallowed. Only the warlord would get nervous around you.
You chuckled and patted him on the cheek, “Why don't you finish this up for me.” You placed the ice pop in his mouth and moved off the chair. You hiked up the shirt that looked like a dress as you hoisted yourself onto the lavish dining table with a huff. It's hard to be sexy when you're so pregnant. 
  “Oh?” He said, “And here I thought you wanted a massage. But if there's something you desire, I'm happy to provide.” He smirked at you as he got up from the other chair.  He stood in front of you and admired you, such a beautiful woman in his eyes. 
Crocodile was such a fearsome man but here he was in front of you, with a glint in his eye as he watched you unbutton the shirt you wore and soon revealed your almost naked form. He had noticed that your breasts had gotten a bit bigger during the time you were pregnant so far, and that only made the man smirk. 
  “Let's get you out of those." He remarked as he helped you out of your underwear, you held onto his broad shoulders as he slipped them off of you. He placed your bum back down on the table and carefully spread your legs. His hook grazed at the soft flesh of your inner thigh and he carefully licked his hip lip.
  ”Don't stare at me like I'm meat, Crocodile.“ You remarked as you held onto the front of his shirt, all three of the men admired you but you had to warn them sometimes not to view you like a slab of meat for sale. They were yours as much as you were theirs, there would be a level of respect you demanded. 
You didn't think it was too much to ask considering you were carrying one of their children, you weren't a broodmare goddamnit! 
He reached over and patted you on the head, his face got closer to yours as he smiled at you, ”Don't you worry, baby. I would never. You're less like meat and more like the finest gold in all of the blue.“ His broad hand reached to your cheek and rubbed it, ”The others should be lucky I even let you in the same room as them.“ Then kissed you on the forehead. He carefully held your legs open for him, he exhaled deeply as he admired your sweet sex, ”Now let's get the show on the road before the others find us.“ Then with a little help from you, he slid his cock into you. 
Taking him was like a punch in the gut sometimes, even when he was being slow. He was just so BIG. It was hard to take him all at once. But he took his time, he didn't want to leave you too sore. His hand was on your waist as he started to thrust into you. The hook on his other hand held onto the side of the table for support. He leaned down and kissed at your neck, ”That's it.“ He said almost breathless against your neck, ”There we go. Such a good girl.“ 
The table made small noises as it was pushed ever so slightly across the carpeted floor. But you didn't pay much mind to it, you were too concerned with the feeling of euphoria that came over you. It was a great feeling, even with the minor stretch you were in good hands with the warlord. 
  ”Crocodile.“ You said softly, ”Fuck.“ 
He chuckled, his warm skin was pressed up against you, ”I know, you like when we have sex. I wouldn't have it with anyone else, those other idiots should be lucky that they get to have a taste of you.“ His voice was low, there was a possessive edge to it that sent a shiver up your spine. While the agreement worked you knew that Crocodile would rather have you all to yourself.
The sex was quiet and secretive. Hot breathing and soft moans filled the air of the lavish dining room. Crocodile's larger body stayed around you as he thrusted up into you. But even the warlord couldn't keep his composure for long.
  ”I want you to finish at the same time as me, baby.“ He said hotly into your ear, ”I want to feel you get very tight around me when you finish. Can you do that for me?“ His breathing was rapid and his shirt was sticking to his muscular back as he thrusted up into you. 
You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment as you felt the wave of pleasure over your body, ”I can do that.“ You panted. Your body jolted with the thrusts, your pregnant belly and heavy breasts moved with each thrust of his hips. 
He pulled you into a deep kiss, he even explored your mouth with his tongue while the intense feeling of climax took hold. It wasn't long before you were clinging onto him for dear life, you belly pressed against him. Then with one last thrust of his cock, you moaned into his mouth and climaxed at the same time as him. You let out a sharp squeak before a primal groan as you felt the wash of pleasure through your system. It made you go lightheaded. 
Soon Crocodile pulled away and patted you on the cheek. He looked over at the half melted popsicle beside you. Between his breaths he said, “Let me get you another one.” then leaned in for one last kiss. The thrill of pleasure still coursed through his body. He cleared his throat and asked, “Blue, right?”
You giggled, your head still a haze and replied, “Or we could go again?” And spread your legs a little further. And what kind of husband would Crocodile be if he didn't give in to his wife's request?
-
It had been about a week since your encounter with Crocodile. And while you were achy for days later, it wouldn't be the last time you'd have sex. Mihawk had just come back from a trip abroad and while he brought nothing for the other men, he was more than happy to show you what he got you. 
You were now almost seven months and the baby in you was feeling a lot more active, which made you out of breath a lot of the time. But you were determined to see what the swordsman got you. One of the gifts was a lovely dress made for someone as far along as you and while it was a little tight around the belly, you were happy Mihawk even thought of you. 
But there was still more he wanted to show you. The other men were out of the manor, so you went looking for Mihawk. You were occupied all morning with prepping for dinner, between the three warlords not a single one of them knew how to properly cook. They were as clueless in the kitchen as they were competent in combat. So it was just easier for you to cook, there was less of a chance that a fire would break out. 
 “Mihawk!” You called out as you climbed the long staircase upstairs. You peeked into the rooms until you found the man in his study. You let yourself in.
  “You know you can't just- oh, I didn't hear you, my love.” He got up from his chair at the desk, “You shouldn't be putting so much strain on yourself. Come.” He guided you to the old style leather couch at the other end of the room, “You should be resting.” 
  “Well I heard that someone bought me presents while away, and I want my presents.” You smiled at him as you tried to get comfortable on the chair, “Can you blame me?”
 “I'm sorry, I should've found you sooner.” he replied, “Let me get them for you.“ He quickly left the room only to swiftly return with delicately wrapped gifts in hand. He put them on the table in front of you then sat beside you. He watched you with careful eyes as you grabbed the first one. His lips were close to your ear as he said, “Open it.”
It was a floral patterned wrapping paper and underneath was a black box with a white ribbon tied around it, there was a note attached to it that read, ”Forever yours, Mihawk.“ You turned to look at him and he softly kissed you. You then went back to opening the box. It wasn't long until you discovered the contents of the gift. Inside in a bed of tissue paper was burgundy lingerie. 
You turned to look at Mihawk who had his eyes on you. You said to him, ”You shouldn't have.“
He tilted his head to the side, ”What I paid for is nothing compared to how much you're worth. It should fit you.“ His hand played with your hair gently, ”Will you try it on for me?“ And smiled when you slowly stood up, he even carefully supported you while you moved. 
You responded, “Of course.”  With gentle hands you pulled the bra and matching panties out. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw how little fabric there was. You guessed he was right, it would fit if there was nothing to put on. You felt his eyes on you as he got up and started to undress you.
His hands found your swollen middle and he sighed contently, “You've been taking care of him while I've been gone. Good girl.” 
You turned around to him and started to take the dress off, “You men are so possessive. I'm your wife, not a broodmare.” You reminded him.
He leaned in for a kiss and before he did it, he replied, “Of course, I could never remember you as anything but my wife. I am just glad that the others weren't too rough with you. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you.” 
  “Nothing will ever happen to me, I have the best protection on the planet.” You said as you stepped out of your dress. Soon your undergarments came off and he slowly put the pieces on you. 
You noticed right away that in the crotch area, there was an opening. You looked at him with a bit and shock and he got even closer to you. His bare chest was pushed against you and his hand dipped down between your legs. 
  “It's your gift. But under my conditions.” He remarked before he pushed two fingers inside of you. His skillful digits massaged the inside of your pussy and felt just right that you went on your tippy toes and clutched onto him. 
Your nipples grew hard from the sensation and them being practically exposed. Your cheeks grew warm and he went in for another kiss. You held onto him tightly as the pleasure raced through you. This felt amazing. 
Mihawk's favourite position was when he had you so close to his bigger form and fingered you. He prioritised your pleasure first, he wanted to see every expression you made when he pleasured you. He wanted to see and hear how good it was for you. And he was one to never disappoint. Those sharp gold eyes trained on you as he brought you into his lap with your legs open and facing the door. He kissed your neck while you panted and moaned. 
His other hand wandered your bump, “I want it to be mine, I want you to bear me a child who'll truly be the greatest. I have high hopes that it'll be mine.” Then left a deep bruise on your neck.
Your moans often got stuck in your throat from the immense pleasure that Mihawk was giving you. You hooked your hands under your knees to give him a better angle, with your back pressed against his chest.
The thrusts of his fingers were powerful and left your head spinning. This was euphoric. Soon his hand was on your breast and he skilfully fondled it as he continued to finger you at a punishing pace.
Your moans rung clear in the office while he pleasures you on the couch. At least your wetness can easily be cleaned off the leather. Your eyes rolled back as you gripped your thighs in a heightened pleasure.
  “So good for me.” He praised, “A beautiful woman I am able to give pleasure to, it's an honour.” He knew your heart was racing, he could probably feel it. He continued to kiss at your neck as his pace quickened even more. 
Your toes curled in the intense feeling and you moaned loudly as you rolled your hips in time with his movement which caused your breasts and belly to bounce. The knowledge of that made Mihawk's cock twitch in his pants. You really were a remarkable woman. 
He pinched at your nipple and your moans got louder. You pussy clenched around his fingers and he groaned into your flushed skin, ”So perfect.“ he thumb gazed at your clit and you practically jumped but you didn't get too far. He pulled you back in and you got louder as he pleasured you further.
You felt a grip around you as hot pleasure raced through your body. Your core felt on fire from the sensation. And Mihawk thought it was divine.  You looked angelic, especially when he hit just the right spot and you climaxed. 
He groaned into your skin as you tightened around his fingers. You tensed for a moment before you relaxed against him and tried to catch your breath. Yor head was spinning but you felt safe in Mihawk's arms. 
  ”How was that?“ He asked, ”You looked divine when I was pleasuring you. Do you want more?“
You exhaled deeply and slowly got up. You stood in front of him, ”Well.“ You said, ”Let's see how resilient this lace is?“ Then slowly he brought you back to the couch with the full intention of seeing what 'damage' he could do before the other men came home. 
-
Buggy was home the most, while the other two had matters to attend to off the island, Buggy was well Buggy. He was a fearsome clown but you spent the most time with him. You enjoyed his company, even when it was something as simple as watching over you while you gardened. 
It was the middle of summer and everyone was in their own little corner of the house. You were out in the garden behind the manor waddling around with a watering can in hand. You were tending to the roses portion of the garden before you moved on to the strawberries nearby. 
You didn't mind the alone time, it gave you time to think. You tried not to get too anxious about how your life is going to change once the baby is born. It felt so far away yet so close. Before the first autumn leaves you were going to be a mother! And at times it left you rather anxious. 
You shook off the thoughts while you poured the water over the roses. You heard the back door open and close. You turned to look over and saw Buggy. And when your eyes met, he broke out into a grin. 
  ”Well there you are, my peanut!“ Then made strides to get closer to you. You quickly noticed in his hand was your large sun hat. He approached and placed it on your head, ”I don't think now is the best time to get a sunburn. You know Crocodile will kill you.“ Then leaned in for a kiss. 
While the other two were mysterious, Buggy seemed normal in comparison. Well, for a clown pirate anyway. He had a very sweet spot for you and while you hadn't seen much of his feared nature, you enjoyed your time with him. He was an open book to you.
  ”You know one of us can do that, like you don't have to keep coming out here. Especially alone, what if you slip on some mud or like... A bird drops a rock on your head!" 
You laughed, ”Buggy, I think I have bigger things to worry about than a bird."
He shrugged before he took the watering can from you, “I'd hate to see anything happen to ya, so let's go. It's time for  a break!” Then placed it down before he guided you away from the garden and towards the shade under the largest tree on the property. 
He helped you down onto the grass and he went in for another kiss. He moaned against your lips as gloved hands cupped your face. It was almost romantic if not for the heat between your kisses. Your heart jumped.
  “You shouldn't be out here all alone, angel. What if someone hurt you? What if someone took you from me?“ He stared down at you.
You smiled back at him and reached out for him. You placed a hand on his cheek and assured him, ”No one would ever dare.“ Then went in for another kiss.You felt excitement race though you as he laid down in the grass with you on top of him. 
  ”Good, because you're mine, peanut. Just like that kid in your belly.“ He grinned at you and nodded. Soon with the help of his powers one of his hands reached down, detached from his body and lifted up your dress. He slipped his hand under and found the less than stylish maternity underwear you wore. 
  ”What do you think you're doing, clown?“ You asked, as you held his face, ”Did you come to check on me so you could fuck me?“ 
He laughed, ”Of course not, having sex with you is just a bonus!“ Then with another hand, pull down the underwear to the middle of your thigh, ”C'mon, then afterwards I'll even help ya water the garden. Seeing you all domestic has really turned me on.” Then he grabbed your ass. 
You moaned and he pulled you in for a searing kiss. He continued to gab at your ass as the kiss deepened. He pulled you dress up further to expose your bare ass to the afternoon air. 
  “You drive me crazy.“ He remarked before he created a bit of room between you two to get his cock out of his pants, ”So why don't you be a good girl and get me off.“ He beamed at you. 
You squeezed his nose between your thumb and pointer finger, ”And what do we say with that, Buggy?“
He frowned suddenly, ”Please. Please angel, sugar, honey, peanut, please, please!“ His cock was out of his pants and pressed into your swollen middle, ”I'd love to see that belly bounce while ya ride me.“  Then he attached both hands to his wrists and held onto your waist. ”I want you.“
You chuckled and held onto the bottom of your dress so a bit of your belly was exposed as you eated yourself onto him. You held his hand for support as you slowly seated yourself onto him. You exhaled deeply, “Yeah.“
  ”Doing alright there, peanut?“ He asked as he rubbed your hip with his free hand, ”That's it, good girl.“
You moaned as you started to roll your hips.  You held onto his hand and the bottom of your dress while you rolled your hips. You felt his cock nudge against the most sensitive spots. For a clown he was a good fuck.
Your eyes closed and your mouth slightly opened as you moved faster.  Buggy groaned and soon both hands were on your hips as he tried to meet your pace. “Shit.” You moaned as you felt pleasure spread through your body like warm butter on hot toast. Your cheeks were flushed as you continued to move your body. 
The two of you went at it, you kept the pace steady. It was getting quicker but the depths that he pushed against made you see stars behind your eyelids. Your heart raced as you moved against him. The feeling of overwhelming moments. Sex with Buggy left you breathless as it did with the other men. You were glad that your pussy could take a beating. The thought made you smirk for a second before you felt his thumb rub up against your clit. 
You jolted up but he used his other hand to keep you back down on his cock. He chuckled, “You're not getting away that easily, angel. I know I make you feel good, that's why the brat in ya is mine. His hand moved to your belly to feel around it while he played with your clit.
You felt moans bubble up in your throat as you rode him. You picked up the pace as the swirl of pleasure moved in the pit of your stomach. Your breathing was rapid as your belly moved with your movements. A sight the clown would never get out of his mind. His girl pregnant with his brat riding him on a sunny afternoon, he couldn't luck out more than this!
Soon the pleasure became an overwhelming feeling for both of you. He handed onto your belly with both hands as he pushed up deeper into you. Your coe felt soaked from the stimulation of his cock as you thrust your hips. Soon your hands were over his on your bump as you moved as fast as your pregnant body would allow.
Buggy's eyes rolled back as he gripped onto your belly, your dress fell back down over the bump as you two met each other's pace. Pleasure coursed through you and you tilted your head back in an attempt to catch your breath as you moved. 
You felt your dress cling to your sweaty back as the two of you made love under the sun. The feeling was euphoric. You reached down and grabbed him by the font of his shirt as you felt on the very tip of orgasm.
The moa got caught in your throat as you climaxed. You tightened around him and he soo finished off too inside of you. He painted your inside white as he let out a loud groan and went limp on the ground. 
You slid off of him, cum stained your inner thigh. You wiped the sweat from your forehead and said, ”C'mon now, Buggy. You have to help me water strawberries.“ But his hands, that were detached from his wrists, pulled your dress up once more.
Soon he was on top of you, squishing your belly as he said between ragged breaths, ”Not until I make you scream, peanut.“ With a wild grin on his face. 
1K notes · View notes
orionremastered · 3 months
Text
Requested via DMs
Masterlist
Helping Hand
Dick Grayson [DCD]
When they say 'opposites attract', the two of you are the prime example.
Dick is in the center of the room, doing flips and handstands and whatever else the agile swan can accomplish while you stand in the corner, afraid to bump into anything and everything and therefore give yourself another bruise.
"It's okay," Dick always tells you. But you've endured bullying for it in school and that's not okay, which was what he always told you too.
Slowly but surely, he teaches you a simple stretch routine. It's something you were never really able to do, especially not a three minute one, but he's a good teacher.
"See? Told you that you could do it."
Hmm. So he did.
Jason Todd [Dyslexia]
It's late and for once Jason doesn't have patrol. So you both do what you normally do on this rare occasion make out with you sitting on the kitchen counter which is him reading a book to you while you lay on top of him, slowly drifting off to sleep.
His lips murmur against your forehead as he slowly moves his head to kiss you there gently.
"You tired, baby?"
"No," you tell him with an unconvincing yawn. "One more chapter?"
He smiles, pressing another kiss to your forehead. He knows you'll be asleep when the chapter's finished, but he keeps reading anyway.
Tim Drake [ADHD]
Breakfast at 10am because you managed to get Tim to sleep is always the best kind of breakfast.
"You have a doctor's appointment in an hour."
Breakfasts where Tim has to remind you that you have an appointment today is always the worst kind of breakfast.
You rush to clean your teeth and get changed, putting on your shoes before heading out the door.
"You forgot your keys," he calls from the dining table.
"Right, yes, thanks," you run back inside and snatch the keys about to step out the door before he adds,
"You forgot your phone too."
Shit.
Damian Wayne [Dyscalculia]
"This is hopeless," you sigh.
Damian rolls his eyes, handing you a pencil. "You can do it. I know it's hard, but you can."
"Easy for you to say. You're like, an evil warlord master mind and king of the world or something."
You have a point and you both know it. Damian's eyebrow raises. "I'm evil?"
"You're not doing my math homework for me."
"Because I can't help you in the exam." And yet, you feel like he could find a way if he really wanted to.
The two of you have been at it for what feels like hours, trying to help you understand math concepts that everyone else in your year already understands. But Damian apparently thinks you can somehow figure it out.
"Come on," Damian says. "Ten more minutes and then we can take a break."
Apparently you can't make text yellow anymore so Tim's fucken orange ig 🤷‍♀️
620 notes · View notes
short-honey-badger · 3 months
Text
Older Men
Pairing! Crocodile x Reader
Warnings! Drinking
Crocodile realizes that you need someone older to take care of you, not the boys that you seem to want.
Masterlist
Tumblr media
You fast walk through the tall tents of Buggy Town, arms wrapped tight around yourself and head ducked low so that no one else could see the tears streaming down your face. You'd been rejected again, by the third man in less than three weeks. All you wanted was a little companionship, someone to hold you close at night. To kiss you good morning when you woke up. Was that so wrong to want from someone your own age?
You don't notice how close you've gotten to Crocodile's side of the town until you physically bump into the man himself. You grunt when you lose your balance, and you brace for a fall that never happens. Instead, you feel warm sand supporting your back and upper arms, gently setting you back on your feet, and dangerously close to the ex warlord.
“Pretty things like you should watch where they are going,” Crocodile grouches lowly, and you look up at him through wet lashes.
“Sorry, sir. I'll be more careful,” you murmur, and fresh tears spout up at the reprimand. Now look at what you've done. Gone and pissed off one of the leaders of the Cross Guild.
Crocodile looks down at you, looking rather unimpressed with the thick cigar clenched between his teeth. He recognizes you and has seen your walk of shame back to his side of town each time your little date didn't go as planned. He didn't understand why you would want to waste your time on pip squeaks like them when he has been here this whole time.
The devil fruit user comes to the conclusion quickly and spins on his heel, “Come with me.”
You blink at his retreating back and jump to follow after him when he glances over his shoulder with an expectant look. You follow him to the edge of the town, and he steps to the side to allow you inside his personal tent first. You're just a little nervous being in here. You've known Crocodile for a while, after all.
He breezes past you, stopping at his desk to pour two glasses of dark liquor. He pushes one glass to the edge, an obvious offer that you are hesitant to accept. However, it's never a wise choice to not accept anything that the towering man offered.
The liquor burns as it goes down, but you find yourself relaxing because of it. You watch as Crocodile hums in satisfaction and sits back in his chair, mouth going a bit dry at the way he spreads his legs and rests his dangerous hook on his thigh.
“Why do you bother with those boys?”
You jump at the unexpected timbre and whip around to give him a look of confusion. He scowls at you, rolling his purple eyes skyward.
“Don't play ignorant. I've watched you each time you come crying back home. Why do you keep trying with them?”
You sink into yourself a little. You don't understand why it matters to Crocodile, but you couldn't not answer your boss.
“I um. I should be with someone my own age, right?” You say carefully. You've never really thought too much about the why of it.
“ku- ha ha, Who told you that?” He demands and his voice drips with condescension, clearly thinking you an idiot. You blush and embarrassed tears well up.
“No one? I just thought that's how it's supposed to go.”
Crocodile lets out a soft hmm, and then sets his now empty glass away. He eyes you, looking all cute and pathetic.
“Come here, Doll,” he murmurs and pats his lap, “Those boys out there will never know how to treat a beautiful woman. You need someone to take charge, someone who knows what they're doing. Someone a little older.”
Your face feels like it's on fire, but you can't help but hang on to every word that the gator says, his tone soft and beckoning. You step closer, clearly nervous, but Crocodile makes your decision for you when the ground under your feet becomes less stable and you fall forward, catching yourself on his broad shoulders.
Crocodile rumbles another laugh and tugs you into his lap properly, tucking you close to his chest. His hand finds your face, and the ex warlord is gentle in the way that he wipes your spilled tears away. His eyes soften, and you look on in wonder as he leans in and presses his lips to the top of your head.
“You've got me now, _, so don't think for a second that I'll send you away.”
560 notes · View notes
FINALS!!!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Propaganda:
Taylor Hebert (Worm (webserial by Wildbow))
Human girl who has superpowers that let her control bugs. She shunts all emotions off into her swarm of bugs, leaving her totally blank and stoic. She outsources sensory-input to her bugs, so she never looks or reacts to anything. In a fight, she reacts to opponents there is no possible way she could see, because she sensed them with her bugs. Overall has virtually no facial tells and moves in a way that makes her seem like she isn't a person. very creature <3 she is just a bug girl
shes such a FREAK. shes completely human (tho with an eldritch alien creature extradimensionally attached to her mind) but God does she not act like it sometimes. she has the superpower to control bugs and uses it to become the worlds most terrifying hero slash villain slash warlord slash apocalyptic threat. she has her bugs crawling all over her all the time. she uses a swarm of flies to scout out areas and then leaves flies in everybodys hair so she can keep track of where they are. she practiced having her bugs make noises until she figured out how to combine their noises into human speech so now she can talk through her swarm. she makes decoys of herself out of large pillars of bugs. once she was concussed and in the hospital and subconsciously calling her bugs to her so she was just covered in insects while the doctor tried to help her. then there was ANOTHER time she was hospitalized and got bored so she made a bunch of bugs so a little dance on her chest. whenever she's in costume and talking she has her bugs make noises to distort her voice and make her sound more scary and she doesnt even realize shes doing it anymore. she surrounds herself in a swarm to disorient her enemies. she doesn't even notice when her hair covers her eyes or anything like that because shes scouting out the area using her bugs so she doesnt have to see. she once used a tide of bugs to clean herself off and dust off her dress after having sex.
#she views herself as more of a swarm of bugs with a girl-shaped computer to control them than a girl herself#her body is just an extension of her bugs which is large and inconvenient but ultimately part of the weapon
#taylor “dissociates into bugs” hebert#taylor “keeps bugs in her hair” hebert#taylor “choke them with bugs” hebert#taylor “no one could ever love me” hebert#taylor “violence is always the answer” hebert
#normally i would want a worm character to win#but#bdubs is a strange little man. he's unusual.#Taylor's just got the 'tism.
she literally is a walking superorganism comprised of one human and a lot more bugs to the point where she frequently moves her head as if she can see through walls (with her bugs, she can), talks through her bugs, has been described like a corpse whose ghost is living on in her swarm, keeps functioning thru her bugs even when her human body is out for the count, et cetera. no disrespect intended but genuinely what in the world are you talking about. She cleans her pussy off with bugs after fucking. Her pussy. With bugs. And she thinks it's normal. Because the bugs are part of her. Is this thing on. I reiterate that she literally requires an emotional support cloak of bugs. She is so dissociated from being an actual person that she treats her human body like an inconvenience and her bugs like the primary operators. Is This Thing On.
#now i told myself i wouldnt comment anything on the rb... but#“She cleans her pussy off with bugs after fucking. Her pussy. With bugs.” CHAT IS THAT FUCKIN REAL??? IS THAT CANON???#cause if thats just a hc thats wild and i dont know if its better or worse if its canon#propaganda
this is indeed canon! there is a scene where, after fucking her boyfriend in an abandoned building, she stands up and cleans dust/etc off her naked ass body by having her bugs run across her and clean her, which presumably translates to "they are eating the dirt/sweat/etc off her." her boyfriend smiles affectionately at this, because he also has something wrong with him. she also does things like use bugs and spider silk to deliver her toothbrush straight to her hand in the morning while monologuing about "checking in on her hive" (her hive is the people in her villain territory.) she is a walking panopticon. her friends sometimes talk to bugs under the assumption it's taylor watching them and they're always right. at one point she confusedly asks someone if he's arachnophobic because he doesn't want her 10k black widow spiders to live in his apartment with him. she is basically like if a cockroach was a girl. I would never lie to you about Taylor Hebert, Unsung Champion of Polls About Weird Characters.
#taylor ofc#wait hey those are my tags as propaganda!! cool!#i stand by it#anyways yeah one of her main character traits when looked at by an outside perspective is just how WEIRD she is#everyone thinks she's a freak#even when you're reading her POV you sometimes have to stop and be like 'hey girl what the fuck'#one time she put bugs on her boyfriend's dick
She also turns into a bug monster at one point. Not all on her own, but she very much turns into a bug monster. Literally And Physically.
And she uses this to survive like a cockroach, she had Just Been Ripped In Fucking Half and thrown in the ocean to die and BOOM. bug monster transformation (with a little help) climb out and keep fighting, against an opponent so vast and powerful a human couldn't even comprehend his true form (not eldritch cognitohazard, just planet-sized + multidimensional), who could kill her in an instant. She's always surviving against the odds she's so cockroach coded (affectionate!) #@ pollrunner if you're still accepting propaganda please take the 'turns into a bug monster' as propaganda#the rest can be ignored or trimmed to 'she's always surviving she's so cockroach coded' but pleamse. the Time she Became A Bug
#she's such a freak!!!#she kills like it's the only thing she was built how to do#she kills people and things like it's chess and she's a grandmaster#as soon as the violence is off she's just a fucked up offputting little one woman panopticon
One of my favourite descriptions of Taylor from someone else's POV, from Interlude 14.
“A figure stood behind Yan. Her costume was barely recognizable—She wore a short cape of tattered black cloth over her body armor, a skintight black suit beneath that, and there were folds of black cloth draped around her legs like a dress or a robe. The entire fabric seemed to ripple and move. It took Sierra a second to realize it was crawling with a carpet of insects.”
“The disconcerting part was the girl’s face, or lack thereof. Her expression was masked behind a shifting mass of bugs that moved in and out of her hairline. Sierra couldn’t even tell where the bugs ended and the scalp began, as the small black bodies crawled into and onto the black curls. There was a hint of something like glass where Skitter’s eyes were, but the bugs ventured far enough over her eyelids and around the frames that nothing was visible in the way of goggles, glasses or skin.”
“Skitter hadn’t made a sound as she entered. She hadn’t spoken, and her footsteps had been quiet.”
#taylor “driving while blind wasn’t as hard as I’d thought it would be” hebert#taylor “hangs out in superpowered darkness for a long time without being at all worried” hebert#taylor “fools a near-perfect lie detecting hero by offloading her emotions on her bugs” hebert#taylor “figures out how to communicate with the Dog Autism girl like right away” hebert
#taylor hebert kill them with your self-sustained insectoid dehumanity!
Jonny d’Ville (The Mechanisms)
Since we’re not technically human
He’s so feral hes canonically committed every single crime theres a name for i think he deserves to have a tail that flicks around when hes being mischevous. perhaps some horns or fangs as well. as a treat
Idk why but he's a feral creature
Have you seen the man? Especially in that one picture where he is fully on the wall.
absolutely no canon implications that he isn't human, but that man* absolutely has a tail. and sharp teeth. and creature ears. he purrs but he pretends he doesn't and if you bring it up he'll bite you. he's had rabies more times than you can count.
#Just sayin#Johnny eats people and says it's not cannibalism if you aren't human
#DID LYF SING THE PART IN SLEEPING BEAUTY? NO. VOTE JONNY
#Jonny’s a creature#vote Jonny
#sorry for that Hermitfans but my boy Jonny is feral and i think he is a creature
#chat vote jonny#HES LITERALLY JUST A LITTLE CRITTER PLEASE
#look at that face#he’s a creacher
#it's jonny d'ville i don't have any more to say
All crimes but sex crimes, because Jonny isn’t a MONSTER
#JONNY#i'm so sorry pearl you are too well adjusted for this#he's got devil in his name#(that he gave himself because he's a huge fucking nerd)
#LITERALLY LOOK AT HIM THE GREMLIN ENERGY IS OFF THE CHARTS
#voted jonny for the rabies
also. hold up. the pearl propaganda is saying to vote for her because she's an alien and a bloodthirsty fighter? BOY DO I HAVE NEWS FOR YOU ABOUT JONNY FUCKING D'VILLE
five am pearl this five am pearl that, jonny's just like that all the time
#please vote jonny. i know we're pitting two bad bitches against each other but jonny has tried to eat a guitar
#CMON GUYS VOTE JONNY D’VILLE HES SUCH A CREATURE#HAVE YOU SEEN HIM??? HAVE YOU HEARD HIM TALK ABOUT THE OCTOKITTENS???#VOTE JONNY
#Jonny is such a creature
#jonny is literally THE creature
#come on vote Jonny that thing is creachur incarnate#and he can sing#his fave food is human flesh and more violence
Jonny man entire existence is teeth claws belts and trauma
#that guy is so feral#just vote jonny#also there was this one time where he found a half dead dude on the moon and brang it home to show to his gay pirate friends#just sayin#and also this harmonica solo over his father's dead body in one eyed jacks#iconic#anyway vote jonny
#literally jonny bites people and eats them regularly
436 notes · View notes
hey-august · 5 months
Text
Negotiating with pirates | NSFW (Cross Guild x afab!reader)
Description: After accidentally ending up as a bargaining chip during Cross Guild negotiations, you eagerly accept the chance to protect your captain and end up between Mihawk and Crocodile.
Word count: ~2.6k
A/N: One shot smut. Reader has an established relationship with Buggy. Let me know if you see any errors or typos. ♡
Warnings: Not beta read. NC-17. → MDNI ← sub!reader, cuck!buggy, dom!mihawk, dom!crocodile. Threesome, PIV, oral m receiving, vaginal fingering, creampie. afab!reader, no use of Y/N. All parties are consenting adults.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
A Cross Guild meeting was getting heated, more so than usual. A contract that failed under Buggy’s involvement was construed as debt the figurehead clown owed. An increasingly panicked Buggy offered anything to assuage the anger of his furious “companions” and to reduce any debt that they imposed on him.
“What do you have that we can’t get ourselves?” Sir Crocodile asked disdainfully. Buggy floundered. His mouth was faster than his mind, but there must be something he could offer. Propose. Promise.
“I can think of something he has…or should I say someone,” Mihawk remarked. This was an uncomfortable observation. 
The trio rarely spoke about personal matters, and definitely never intentionally, however it wasn’t a secret that Buggy had a hook-up. A dedicated partner. This was a fact that the other two would say they didn’t care about. Truthfully, Mihawk had some thoughts. More like a passing interest in why - out of anyone else you could pick - were you with the clown. Maybe you didn’t know what else the world had to offer and this was his chance to show you.
The rest of the discussion, if you could call it that, happened in a blur. Buggy’s wavering voice was overpowered by the two former warlords negotiating on his behalf. When Buggy realized that he had become an accessory once again, he bounced in his seat, trying to alleviate the nervous energy flooding his body. The two commanding pirates set the place and time, which was not far from this moment. As the clown hurried out of the room, Crocodile called out a demand in a puff of smoke, telling Buggy to pick out your outfit. 
“When we undress her, I want to be pulling off clothes that you picked out for us.”
Buggy’s panic took on a different tone as he seeked you out. You both had spoken about his cuckold fantasies, but never did anything to make them reality. And now…well it was a classic Buggy mistake. When he finally told you what happened, he had tears in his eyes. Even he doesn’t know if they’re from worry about how you’ll react or fear of what Mihawk and Crocodile will do if you disagree. Or maybe the tears held hopeful anxiety that you might go along with the plan.
Relief washed over Buggy when you agreed. It wasn’t his tears or trembling grasp that convinced you, but your adoration for the pirate clown. For once, you had power that could help him. Not only could this garner favor for your captain, but the heat in his shaky hands told you that he had a personal interest in this idea. You could benefit your captain and fulfill your partner’s fantasy, all while getting intimately familiar with some of the most powerful pirates around.
When the appointed time arrived, Buggy walked you to Mihawk’s quarters. He didn’t guide the way so much as herd you. The clown’s jittery nerves had him flitting around, caught in your orbit. Buggy was a one-man surround sound system - apologizing for putting you in this position, professing his love,  telling you to not be nervous or scared, reminding you to say “lighthouse” if you needed to stop, calling you gorgeous, and whining about how hard he was already.
Buggy pulled open the door and let you step into the eagle’s nest first. Partly because you were the visitor they were waiting for, but also to watch how the skirt he chose flounced around your ass while you walked. Crocodile sat back on an ornate sofa, a hazy cloud of smoke circling his head. Mihawk stood nearby, closing whatever discussion they were having before you two arrived. The swordsman held out a hand, beckoning you to come closer. The atmosphere in the room was heavy. Intense. But the attention Mihawk sent your way felt lighter and inviting. When you placed your hand on his, it was the final piece of your confirmation to participate in this arrangement.
A pointed look from Mihawk and a dismissive wave from Crocodile sent Buggy slinking away to a seat on the far side of the room. You turned to watch your captain, but a slender finger on your chin stopped your movement. Mihawk turned your gaze back towards him as his golden eyes looked you up and down.
“Crocodile…” His companion grunted an acknowledgement, already aware of Mihawk’s thoughts.
“Clown, this is really the outfit you picked for us?” Crocodile said, clearly displeased with your attire. 
To be fair, it wasn’t particularly sexy or revealing. It was one of your normal outfits, maybe a little more composed than others. It fit well and flattered your figure. You chimed in before Buggy could speak, wanting to divert negative attention away from him.
“What’s wrong with it?” 
Following Mihawk’s hesitation, you grabbed his wrist and pushed his hand under your top, letting him graze your bare breast. He squeezed firmly, his touch cool against the heat you were radiating and sent chills through your body. Mihawk felt your nipple harden in response to his touch and gave it a gentle tweak, drinking in the sound of your feather-soft sigh and the intoxicating expression he extracted. Your eyes fluttered under your crinkled brows as you tried to maintain eye contact.
Your hand was still on his wrist and you wanted to show him the other positive benefit of this outfit. Mihawk tensed for a brief moment, reluctant to let you control his body before giving in. You moved his hand under your short skirt, slowly drifting it up the skin of your hip. Teasing both yourself and the pirate in front of you.
“I see,” he murmured while grabbing a handful of your ass, your skin soft and supple against his touch, “it’s not about what you’re wearing, but what you don’t have on. Is that right?”
“Hawkeye gets it! Now you’ll always wonder if there’s anything underneath,” Buggy called out proudly, pleased with his contribution. From this moment on, Mihawk and Crocodile will question what you are, or aren’t, wearing. And if this outfit survives, it will remind you and Buggy of how you were shared between the fierce pirates. It’s a win-win-win.
Ignoring Buggy’s remark, Mihawk kept his attention on you. He pulled away his hand and replaced it on the small of your back, guiding you closer to Crocodile.
“Tell us, did your captain adequately inform you about this agreement?” Mihawk questioned, wanting to be sure you were aware of your involvement here. You nodded and acknowledged that your role was to offset any debt Buggy owed the two men in front of you. Mihawk appeared satisfied with your run-down, giving you courage to share an additional thought floating in your head.
“I’d like to add an amendment.” You felt your small flame of courage flicker under the change in atmosphere as you finished this sentence. Crocodile, who seemed to have been looking through you, was now paying rapt attention. There was an uncomfortable stillness from the area of the room where Buggy was sitting - a bad sign, since he usually had trouble sitting still and containing his nerves. With one foot in the door, you pushed on.
“I don’t like seeing Bu- Captain Buggy get hurt. Whatever frustrations you were going to take out on him, I want you to use me instead.”
If you thought the quiet in the room a moment ago was oppressive, this was a new level. If it wasn’t from the smoke still drifting from Croc, you wouldn’t be sure if anyone was breathing. Despite having Mihawk’s hand resting on your back and Crocodile close enough to touch, you felt as though you isolated yourself. Alone and adrift in a dangerous sea, surrounded by danger.
“I don’t think you know what you’re asking,” Sir Crocodile’s deep voice finally broke the spell in the room. In the corner of your eye, Mihawk nodded in agreement. “I don’t think you can take it.” The Desert King spoke his piece as if it was the end of your bargaining. You were not ready to give up, even with his dominating aura threatening to snuff the remainder of bravery in your body.
“I’d like to try.” Four simple words brought a smile to Crocodile’s face. A dangerous look.
“You’re going to regret this,” Mihawk said quietly, with a sliver of hungry anticipation. For the first time since stepping into the room, you felt small. Fragile under the intensity required to become a former warlord of the sea. 
Sir Crocodile extended his large hand. Before you could consider changing your mind - not that they would allow that - you shook, sealing the deal. Before you could release his hand, Crocodile pulled you closer. The way his hand enveloped yours and the rough pull had heat pooling in your core.
“Mihawk’s right. You’re going to regret this deal. Unlike the others, I don’t care about you one way or another. I’m only here for my own pleasure.”
Spurred by false-confidence from your successful bartering, you firmly met Crocodile’s stare.
“If that’s the case, then why are you still talking to me instead of fucking me?”
Your boldness wavered as Crocodile leaned forward and grabbed your chin. Mihawk’s hands on your shoulders sent chills down your spine and made your knees weak. However, it was Crocodile’s cold hook pressing against your slick heat that broke you. A docile lamb at the mercy of two hungry predators.
Time passed in a blur. Hands, mouths, cocks, countless orgasms, kisses, bites, bruises, all of which left your mind spinning. Dirty commands and sweet praises went in one ear and out the other. Heavy moans, groans and whimpers, even periodic commentary from your kind captain filled the room.
“Don’t hold back, she likes it that way.” “Pretty girl, you look so good riding my cock.” “Squeeze your tits for me, dear.” “Cumming on my hand like that makes you look desperate.” “Tell me, does your captain fuck you like this?” “She loves the taste of cum, make her swallow it all.”
Only flashes stuck in your hazy memory. You recall one particular moment stuck between the pirates. Despite being on your hands and knees, you were barely able to keep yourself steady. Instead, you chose to lean into Mihawk’s hold on your hips as his eager cock bullied your dripping cunt. Your mouth ached as Crocodile languidly slid in and out, caressing your jaw and enjoying the vibrations from your endless moaning.
One poorly positioned thrust from Mihawk had him slam into you uncomfortably - nearly painfully. Your body rocked forwards, almost instinctively, trying to move away from the discomfort. Unfortunately, this pushed Crocodile further down your throat, which constricted around him as your gag reflex kicked in.
“Aw poor thing, you’d rather choke on my cock?” Crocodile rumbled as he wiped the tears from the corner of your eyes. “You know I won’t hurt you accidentally, hm? Unlike Mihawk, I know what I’m doing.”
His comments only served to spur on the swordsman, who directed all his attention to making you feel good. An accomplishment he felt satisfied with when you cried his name the loudest during your orgasms.
Eventually, you could tell that Crocodile and Mihawk were becoming worn out. Their movements were sloppy, far less intentional or calculated. They had trouble keeping their strength restrained as they grabbed you and maneuvered your weary body, leaving bruises that formed quickly. Each load they left in or on you felt less heavy than the last. The click of Crocodile’s lighter and the scent of tobacco filling the room were the white flags that signaled the end. Your body relaxed, sinking into the sticky sheets underneath you.
“You should tell your captain thank you,” Mihawk murmured against your ear in between soft kisses. 
He pulled his body away from yours as you tilted your head to face Buggy, who was already standing at the edge of the bed. Mihawk hooked a hand around your knee and tugged, easing your sore legs apart. The gesture pulled Buggy’s attention to your beautiful cunt. Cum trickled from your overused hole with each breath and heartbeat, a pool collecting under your body.
Buggy’s hand was furiously pumping his own deprived cock, which was weeping for you. His attention snapped between the glistening treasure between your legs and your face, which was flushed with lust and pride. Words poured from Buggy’s mouth as he poised himself to decorate your heaving chest.
“You did s-so good, you’re such a good little slut.” “I watched the whole time, my little star.” “Just lay there, beautiful, m’so c-close…”
His cum felt hot against your cooling skin, carrying the warmth of his passion and care for you. Buggy leaned in and captured your mouth in a kiss full of emotion. Adoration, appreciation, and a slightly bittersweet hint of an apology for spurring on these events, even though you both clearly enjoyed things.
Buggy expected Mihawk to be upset about the state of his personal belongings. His obviously expensive sheets were beyond saving and it’s very likely that some fluids leaked through to the mattress below. But there was a softness in Mihawk’s eyes as he surveyed your exposed body draped across his bed - a sensual, albeit lewd, work of art. Buggy let Mihawk commit this vision to memory before mentioning that you’d need help cleaning up.
Before Mihawk could tend to you, Crocodile’s hook stopped him. You could barely make out the enigmatic look on his face through your half-lidded eyes. He placed his hand on your thigh, which quivered under the weight. His attention traveled upwards until his fingers brushed against your swollen, sensitive folds. A careful swipe of two fingers scooped up some of the cum that trickled out, which he then eased back into you. You gasped at the intrusion as your body fluttered helplessly around Crocodile’s large fingers. Weakly, you grabbed Crocodile’s wrist as he curled his fingers, already knowing your body inside and out. It only took a few choice movements and a swipe of his thick thumb against your clit to have you shaking under his touch, succumbing to yet another orgasm. 
Satisfied with your encore, Crocodile took a towel from Mihawk and wiped his sticky fingers before moving onto your body. The pirates made quick work of caring for your worn out body, cautious of your aching muscles and tender skin. Finally, Buggy wrapped you in his embrace to carry you back to his quarters for a bath and additional tender care.
---
It seemed that everyone’s expectations were fulfilled. The two former warlords upheld the end of the bargain they struck with you, as Buggy rarely returned with injuries. For a time.
About a week later and even you could feel emotions rising. Agitation and tension carried through the air behind each of the three pirates, with a breaking point close behind. Once again, a meeting behind closed doors was escalating. Threads of an argument trickled through the closed door, a warning for others to stay away. A warning you chose to ignore.
A knock on the door interrupted the meeting and before Sir Crocodile could dismiss the unwelcome visitor, you stepped in with a tray of refreshments. You ignored the blush dusting your cheeks as Mihawk’s eyes swept your body, clothed in an outfit he was intimately familiar with, and placed the tray on the table.
“Perhaps we are due for a break. Why don’t you join us?” Mihawk disguised his command as a question. Choosing to take the statement at face value, you turned towards your captain and feigned innocence.
“May I?” Your request was quickly answered with a nervous but expectant nod, Buggy's hat nearly tumbling off his head from the movement. Following Buggy’s agreement, you chose to settle down on his lap before turning your attention to his companions. The bemused looks on their faces told you that they knew you were toying with them.
“Get the fuck over here.”
805 notes · View notes
alisonwritesimagines · 8 months
Text
I Just Wanna Know You Better Now ~LA! Mihawk Imagine~
Summary: You meet Mihawk for the first time and he is not what you expect.
Author’s Note: I was gonna upload this yesterday but my boyfriend's alarm woke me up and put me in a bad mood.
Based in my Enchanted series
Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her
Warnings: mentions of killing, fluff
Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!
Do not repost this anywhere!
Tumblr media
The village was small. Not what Mihawk was expecting to find the quarry that Vice Admiral Garp told him to kill. He walked around the village before settling to find information about you at a bar.
“What can I get you?” The lady working the bar asked as she approached him.
“Red wine if you have it,” he tells her.
“One glass coming up,” she tells him before pouring a drink for him.
“Do you know anywhere I can find someone named Y/n L/n?” Mihawk asked.
“Don’t know who you’re talking about. Never heard anyone by that name here.”
Mihawk could tell that she was lying. But she seemed calm about it so he wouldn’t press onto it.
“Alright. No worries. I just had a message to deliver to her from someone,” Mihawk said. The woman nodded before walking away to clean the bar more.
Mihawk paid for his drink before walking out of the bar. He headed to the outer part of the village where he saw a small house and a woman in the garden. He got closer and saw that it was you based on the description Vice Admiral Garp gave to him. Though he was a little surprise with your aura.
“You don’t seem like someone who can harm a fly."
He watched as you turned around to look at him. Mihawk couldn’t deny that you were beautiful.
“I can hurt a fly. Don’t think I’m good at harming anyone else,” you tell him as you stood up. Your arms are crossed defensively but Mihawk had no intention of hurting you anymore.
“I see.”
“I know who you are so what do you want?” You asked him. A bold one, Mihawk thought to himself.
“I was sent to kill you but in all honesty, I don’t think I can kill you. You’re too beautiful to be killed,” Mihawk tells you.
“Who sent you to kill me?” You asked worriedly as you took a step back.
“Not to worry now. I don't have any intentions to kill you anymore," he tells you. Truthfully, Mihawk would be more upset if anyone hurt you. Even if he did meet you just now.
“Then why are you still here?” You questioned.
“I'm curious to see why someone would send me to go after you,” Mihawk tells you as he took a step forward.
“Feel free to stay. Just to tell you, it's going to be quite boring,” you tell him before picking up your basket.
“Allow me,” Mihawk said as he walked over and grabbed the basket from your hands.
“It’s not that heavy,” you pointed out.
“No. But how else am I to make you to start trusting me?” Mihawk asked.
“By not killing me.”
“I will do no honor in killing you,” Mihawk said.
Mihawk sat on a chair as he watched you sort out your fruits and vegetables in your kitchen. It felt awkward knowing a famous warlord was watching you sort out the food you picked from your garden.
“How long do you plan on staying?” You asked.
“Until I’m needed elsewhere,” Mihawk answered truthfully.
“Do you have a place to stay?” You asked him.
“Don’t worry about me darling. Just continue what you’re doing,” Mihawk tells you. You nodded before picking up the basket with the food you were going to sell.
“I’m heading to the market now. I don’t know if you want to join me or if you want to stay here,” you tell him.
“I’ll join you,” Mihawk tells you before joining you in the market.
You traded some fruits and vegetables for some meat before selling off the rest. Mihawk watched a close eye on you as he followed you around. Everyone was too scared to question the warlord behind you but he didn’t care. His main focus was you.
The next day, he showed up at your front door.
“Did you eat breakfast yet?” You asked him.
“Yes.”
“Okay. I need to go to my job and I don’t think a warlord is going to be comforting to the kids,” you tell him before grabbing your things to head into town.
Before, you would just only teach Luffy. But since the school needed a new teacher, you became the village’s teacher.
“I’ll walk with you then,” Mihawk offered.
“Okay.”
Mihawk took your bag in his hands before following you to the school.
“You don’t have to wait for me you know. I’ll be at the school for a while,” you tell him.
“Who’ll carry your bag then?” Mihawk asked.
“I’m not some helpless woman you know. I can carry my own bag,” you tell him. Mihawk just stared at you as you walked inside the school.
Mihawk didn’t do much as he waited for you. He did grab you some pastries from the bakery before heading back to the school to wait for you again.he could hear the people talk about seeing the warlord waiting by the school for the teacher. He didn’t mind for once.
“Did you wait the entire time?” You asked Mihawk after you finished saying bye to your last student.
“I wasn’t doing much anyway,” Mihawk tells you as he handed you the box of pastries. He took your bag again in exchange.
“Thank you,” you said as you looked up at him.
Mihawk gave you a nod before the two of you walked back to your home.
“No tending to the garden today?” Mihawk asked you.
“I will. I just need to prep for dinner tonight,” you tell him.
“Why don’t I tend to your garden?” Mihawk offered.
“You know how to garden?”
“I know my way around. Where’s your basket?”
“Um by the door.”
“Won’t be long,” Mihawk tells you before walking out.
As you cooked dinner, you accidentally touched the hot pan making you hiss in pain.
“Ow!”
You didn’t think Mihawk heard you until he rushed through the door with a full basket. He placed the basket on the table before he checked on you.
“What happened? What’s wrong?”
“Just burned myself.”
Mihawk quickly grabbed your bucket of water before gently putting your finger in the cool liquid.
“Thanks.”
“Of course.”
"I made extras if you'd like. I got used to cooking for two," you tell him as you took your hand out and dry it with a towel.
“Was it for you and your past lover?” Mihawk asked. He noticed the ring dangling from a chain on your neck the moment he met you. But there were no signs of him anywhere in your home.
“Not really surprisingly. I used to take care of a little boy who used to live with me who had a bottomless stomach. He wanted to become a pirate so he set sail a year ago," you tell him.
“I see.”
“So, dinner?” You asked.
“Why not,” Mihawk said as he put his sword away.
Mihawk cleaned up before sitting with you at the table.
“I hope you like it,” you tell him. Mihawk took a bite of the food, nodding in approval afterwards.
“It’s good.”
“Thank you!”
“You should let me cook for you sometime,” Mihawk tells you.
“What kind of food do you cook?”
“Anything that can go well with red wine.”
“You like red wine?”
“I do. It’s a classical drink.”
“Maybe I’ll buy us a bottle and we can have a drink together,” you tell him.
“Or I can get it along with some other supplies for when I cook.”
“Are you sure?”
“Please. Let me cook for you next time.”
“Alright. Deal.”
774 notes · View notes
kpopnstarwars · 1 month
Text
Warriors: Choi San x Reader
A/N: ohh boyyy after the kpop fanfic drought im back and it's with warriors au choi san
Summary: San and Reader are mages, which means they are made to serve. They are lowborn, destined to obey humans - the nobles and the highborn - with their every breaths. What if they don't want that?
tw: 18+, smut (p in v, fingering, cockwarming sort of), swearing, violence, death, blood, minimally gory at one point, war, child soldiers (14 yo), society is a shit place to be if you're a mage, tons of worldbuilding, assassins, freaking bath sex, hint at sa at one point from some dude we hate, san is kind of a brat tamer, seonghwa cameo but sad, idk if you can tell but i suck at summaries, mention of a harem, mention of slavery
wc: 4.8k
Tumblr media
As a child, you watched from afar, waiting for things you could not grasp.
They told you that you were made to serve. They recounted age-old tales, about gods that crafted humans in their divine hands, moulding the mages afterwards to be commanded by their beloved creations. They filled your mind with legends of faithful individuals of your kind who proved their worth with obedience until you wished to be like your forebears.
Back when you were but an infant, you believed it. You knew the two powers that were bestowed upon you by the gods, varying in every mage, were gifts made solely to assist the highborns. In your naivety, you thought the rosy flame cupped in your small, childish palms would be used to warm the nobles in the icy winter, and that you would fulfil your purpose through that, through being of use to them. They had no shame as they informed you you were just a tool forged for following their orders, and you were convinced it was all true - until you met San.
Although you were the one with the ability to summon an inferno, he was always the one with a burning fire in his eyes. Like all mages, he’d been taken from his parents the moment he didn’t need his mother’s milk - he was given as a peace offering from the Hwangso warlord for his control of water: helpful for the upkeep of the crops.
This occurred in the small period of time in which Hwangso, the neighbouring province, was attempting to forge alliances with your province, Neugdae. Soon after, your warlord breached their territory, claiming it as his - you often wondered if the news filtering back from the front lines of a new settlement captured ever affected San.
You met him when he was an eight year old filled with bottled fury too old for his years, and you were a quiet, invisible seven year old. At those tender ages, neither of you had developed your second ability yet, nor had you gotten a taste of the power at your fingertips, but San still held his head high; you remember marvelling at the way he’d make a point of meeting every single noble’s gaze and holding it. He was just a scrawny, sun browned kid back then - nothing like the elegant lethality of the man that he is now.
Every day until you turned fourteen, you toiled beside him. The work was cruel, your supervisors crueller; the sun would beat down on your back as you laboured in the fields, side by side with San as barely a quarter of the way across the settlement, the nobles sheltered beneath their silky parasols, boasting their pale, porcelain skin. Back then, San never spoke of the injustice of it all out loud, but something about the look in his eyes when he saw them swanning past stirred something inside you. He made you realise that you were not the soulless, mindless puppet that you’d been told you were, but a person.
It wasn’t simply the rage inside him that drew you to him, though. It was the way he remained sweet, kind, despite it all, making sure to send licks of cool mist down your neck when your supervisors weren’t looking, nicking extra crumbs of food for you and remaining beside you, a beacon of light that anchored you to sanity even in the dark.
Even when, you at fourteen, him fifteen, were sent out into battle.
There were always skirmishes between neighbouring warlords: a constant push and pull for more land, more resources, more power. They would attack on a whim - mages were expendable, nothing more than canon fodder; behind each squadron was a noble who would hang back behind the lines, commanding, unbothered by the bloodshed because it was the blood of mere tools.
By then, both you and San had developed your second abilities. San’s was the ability to manipulate shadows, turning them into almost solid shapes that could physically hinder attacks by forming daggers or clutching hands, or could temporarily block the world out in a shroud of rolling black fog. Yours was the art of shapeshifting; you let the outline of your body flicker between forms, changing into powerful, deadly creatures whose substance was inhabited by the soul of a wavering teenager.
You’d known that you’d be forced to fight since you were young, but you never could have imagined the brutality of war.
It was there, in the midst of the battlefield, that any lingering innocence was burned from your soul. You learned that San’s water did not just bring life, but could also fill up someone’s lungs until they drowned upon dry ground, that your fire was not just a source of warmth or light, but could also combust a man’s heart within his chest, that the animals you were teaching yourself to shapeshift into could maul and break bones.
Many nights, you would fall asleep, curled against San, your face buried in his side with his arm wrapped around you, the taste of blood still in your mouth from where you’d torn your enemies’ throat out with the vicious canines of a tiger or the needle sharp fangs of a lynx. You would leave the front lines soaked with crimson, the essence of other people in your hair, smeared on your face, caked and drying under your nails.
It terrified you, how easily you could slice their flesh open with your claws. Armour was not wasted on mages, only generals, so just like you, all they wore were roughly woven tunics tied at the waist and trousers - you met no resistance when you killed your own kind, silent apologies on your lips.
Within the squadrons were also humans that had fallen from grace - criminals who still felt entitled enough by their birthright to think they could have a fourteen year old mage’s body; San protected you until you could protect yourself. In the first few weeks, when the punches he threw were too weak to deter them, he would let them beat him, giving you time to escape before returning to you, limping, lip split and nose bloody but the fire in his eyes never faltering.
On those nights, tears of frustration would leak from the corners of your eyes as you cleaned him up. He could so easily stop them if he used his abilities, but by then doing that without being instructed to do so by a highborn would lead to a flogging or a beating - fairytales no longer worked on you at that age, so your commanders and generals utilised fear mongering instead. You remember the hate and helplessness burning inside you when you looked at them: if all the mages rebelled at once, the nobles would have no chance, but everyone was too scared. Using your abilities on humans only led to execution.
You remember Seonghwa: he was a mage a few years older who cared for you and San as if you were his blood. He got too strong - you can’t recall his second ability but his first meant he could push a man over the brink of insanity, until he frothed at the mouth and his brain boiled within his skull. When you first witnessed the depth of his power, you were originally struck by the pain in Seonghwa’s eyes, and then by the fear in your commander’s.
The next day, Seonghwa was gone.
Often, you wonder if he fought back, or if he just let them kill him.
After, you made San promise that he wouldn’t show them if his powers developed further. He made you promise the same, and when you fought beside him, he was a constant reminder to reign yourself in, to survive. You were more careful with your powers from then on.
Some nights, though, when the frost ridden night air cut right through the ragged material of your blanket, you huddled next to San and lit a small fire in your hands. He’d tell you to stop, and you’d point out that he was shivering; he’d reply that he’d rather that than get you caught, and you would ignore him, not missing the way he tucked himself closer to the flame.
You didn’t tell him, but sometimes you would shift into a small animal, like a raccoon, and steal food for him in the dead of night. You didn’t answer when he asked you where you got it from, just shrugging and thrusting the rolls of bread and strips of dried meat into his hands, telling him he should eat.
When you were sixteen, San discovered he could animate his shadows. He could mould them like clay in his hands, breathing purpose into them - they would disintegrate within about a week or so, their outlines fading until they dissolved into nothing. San shaped a little dragon for you, the length of your forearm and the width of one of your thumbs; he came to you with it cupped in his hands, awe limning his face as the two of you watched it wriggle through the air between you and coil itself around your wrist.
You have many memories of those times, but one remains crystal clear, even to this day. A year onwards from San’s dragon, you found yourself hemmed in by enemy forces, your body tired from the fight - victory was so close for your side, and because of it, the Hwangso fought even harder, like cornered animals. If you broke through them, you would have been able to easily end their commander, but they had you, six to one. Hands closed around your throat, choking, and as the consciousness bled from you, you heard San’s cry, smelt the fear in the air as he tore through them to get to you: that in itself would have been insignificant - you had saved each other countless times through the years - but he had disobeyed a direct command.
He’d been told to kill the commander. He’d had a clear shot, and even still, he’d ignored orders, choosing to save you instead.
Both of you were beaten for it, and even as you heard the sound of San’s ribs cracking, he held your eyes, silently telling you that he’d do it over and over again, if only to keep you with him.
You think that was the moment when the two of you truly got a taste for rebellion. It was the point in the long, winding thread of your life that made you realise that whatever they told you, you would disregard it if it were for San. Their words no longer had as much power over you, because you knew your bond with him was infinitely stronger than any fear they attempted to instil within you.
Soon after that incident, your commander retired, and he was replaced by a man who was more of a fool than him. You began to lose land to Hwangso’s troops, far enough that the settlement where you grew up in was ravaged, razed to the ground. Your commander informed you that you’d evacuate the highborns, leaving the child mages and the servants behind because they would only slow you down - that was the moment you decided to stop listening to him.
The last mage rebellion had been decades ago - they were not ready. It was pathetic how easy it was to overthrow them; together with the rest of the troops and the mages from the settlement, you rebuilt the town and fortified it. San treated his soldiers with respect, with loyalty, and they loved him for it, for the way he would march into battle with them instead of cowering at the rear, for the way he could often be seen in the newly restored fields, watering the crops, for the way he recognised them for who they were.
To this day, you’re in awe of it. Never in your whole life have you come close to anything but fear for a leader, and yet you see it clear in their eyes that they love San, and that he loves them. He is everything that the highborns fear - a powerful, confident mage, wreathed in righteous shadows, fiercely intelligent, a master of strategy.
One of his first moves was to ally himself with the Hwangso warlord, the very man who had given him as a gift to your province. Deep in the highborn’s eyes was the presumption that he could break San and make him yield, followed a month later by pure terror when you held a knife to his neck, hissing to never speak of San like that again. The two of you brought his head in a sack to Hwangso and claimed your rule over the province.
That didn’t mean it was easy, though. There were the nights when San would tremble in your arms, baring his fears to you, his doubts - that it was getting too much too fast: that maybe he really was just made to follow orders. You scoffed at that - you’d seen him grow up, watched his shoulders broaden and his figure fill out with muscle, you’d seen the fire in his eyes blazing with passion; you knew he’d always be more than enough.
You’re not sure when the love blossomed between the two of you. Maybe it was always there, first shown as fierce protectiveness, later as searing kisses where no one could see, of fingers laced with yours in the dark of night. He married you shortly after he began to be recognised as an actual warlord, not a rogue mage; it was a quiet ceremony, but the celebrations of your people were far from that - rumours of the Neugdae province’s mage warlord and his wife rippled like wildfire through the regions, stirring fear and hope alike.
Some wonder why San does not take more wives - he has control over the Baem province as well Neugdae and Hwangso now, and any warlord with that much power would take on a harem without blinking. Not San, though - he’s different from them, he is a mage, a lowborn, his bronzed skin a sign to them of his childhood in the fields, and they find he is an enigma, as is his mystery shrouded right hand man.
But not to you - you understand him as if you share a soul.
On the surface, you are his only wife, aloof and coldly beautiful. In the shadows, you are his sword, his hand. There are myths of you, of the fire wielding ghost that robes itself in a black cowl and changes its skin into a man’s worst nightmare; stories of how you will twist your victim’s thoughts around until he finds the tip of a blade poking out of his chest, speared right through his back. It’s how you prefer to operate - they fear the unknown, and you are the unknown.
The fabric of the bag held in your fingers is soaked with blood. Within it is the head of the Yong province’s advisor. He was an awful man who deserved what you gave him - in a locked room at the back of his house, you found several young mages, half starved and chained by wrist and ankle to each other and a hook set in the wall. Bile bites at the back of your throat at the thought: you’re lucky you never experienced the uglier side of mage slavery.
Night is falling, the sun casting long shadows down the road. You always find the darkness comforting - it feels as if San is near. Today he is; you raise your fist and knock thrice on the solid wood of the gates, lifting your hand in recognition of the guards who peek over the turrets.
Slowly, they ease open the doors, and you stride into the courtyard, your boots clicking against the roughly hewn pavings. A squadron of your soldiers are sparring, but they halt their training when you enter, snapping to attention as you stop at the centre of the space, the dying rays of the sun streaming down the steps towards you, the air still as you wait.
He appears, his gilded silhouette glorious at the top of the stairs. His shadow guards spill down the steps towards you as he descends; their bodies contort and bend, the swirling mass of them parting around you, liquid night, jaws snapping, circling you until you’re surrounded.
A smirk pulls at your lips, and you throw the bag at his feet. You do not bow low, simply dipping your chin as he extracts the head from the sack, inspecting it and nodding before returning it to its roughly woven grave and handing it to one of his shadows to take away. Meeting your eyes, his own filled with amusement, the hint of a smile flashes over his face.
‘Welcome home, my love.’
San’s words are soft, voice quiet enough for only you to hear. You suppress the urge to pull down your mask and kiss him, instead letting your fingers brush against his as you walk with him up the steps and into the hanok; his shadows close the door behind you and the moment they do, he hooks an arm around your waist and hugs you tight, his embrace warm and sweet as always.
You laugh. ‘I was only gone four days, Sannie.’
‘Four days too long for me to be separated from my wife,’ he replies, pushing your cowl back so he can kiss your forehead.
Gripping his shoulders, you tug him down so you can peck his lips before sending him out to the courtyard again - you’re the last person expected through the gates tonight, so he should go out and dismiss the mages training in the courtyard so they can go home to their families and lock up. A happy sigh leaves you as you toe off your shoes, walking through your home and stripping off your bloody clothes before submerging yourself in the pool sunken in the floor. San has already filled it with fresh water, and it takes you mere seconds to heat it up with your fire.
Leaning with your head against the wooden ledge of the pool, you let your muscles loosen, half closing your eyes. The silence doesn’t last long, though - there’s a soft, steady noise coming from the screen behind you, almost like… breathing.
‘Show yourself,’ you command into the still air.
A man steps into view - a human, eyes crazed, knife clutched in his fingers. You realise he does not know who you really are; he just assumes you are the mage warlord San’s wife, delicate and helpless, and you let that role engulf you, backing away to the other edge of the pool with your eyes wide, luring him closer.
‘Your man took everything from me,’ he spits, blade pointed at you as he stalks forward. ‘He took my power, my wealth, my squadron of soldiers. And now I will take his wife.’
Surging out of the pool, you dodge the swipe he aims at you, sending fire surging down the knife’s handle so he drops it with a cry and twisting his arm behind his back in the most painful way possible, wrenching him down to his knees with his face an inch above the water.
‘How did you get in?’ You ask coolly.
‘I’ll never tell y - ’
You send tongues of flame licking down his ribs. ‘Answer the question or suffer.’
The door eases open, revealing San. His eyes land on you, water dripping down your body as you pin the man to the floor, then the distorted reflection from the blade of the knife that’s fallen into the pool, and something dangerous flashes inside his gaze. You let him grab your attacker by the front of his shirt, lifting him off his feet as he brings him face to face with him; you see San’s jaw clench, his hands balling into fists.
‘How fucking dare you try to come anywhere near my wife,’ he growls, shadows coalescing behind him.
You can tell he’s about to say something else, but he stops as the man, trembling and fruitlessly clawing at San’s fingers, wets himself. Your husband’s lip curls in disgust, and he drops him at your feet, pressing him down onto his knees and yanking his head up so he is forced to look up at you. Bending down, you breathe in the sheer fear permeating the air, a soft smile on your face.
‘Now, answer the question.’
‘You���re not his wife,’ he whispers, pale.
‘Oh, but I am,’ you sneer. ‘But that’s not the only role I occupy.’
Slowly, his face drains of colour, horror rippling across it as it slowly dawns on him. He recoils in San’s grasp, scrabbling at the floor in a sorry attempt to put distance between you; he has finally realised who you are and he acts like fucking coward, his mouth gaping wide in a silent plea. Unhurried, you fish the knife out from the pool, twirling it around your thumb before gliding it gently over the skin of his throat.
‘I’m getting impatient.’
‘I - I - the guards, they were distracted upon your arrival, I snuck in at the southern perimeter, please don’t - ’
His words dissolve into a weak gurgle when you slice open his throat. Blood gushes from the seams of the wound, dribbling from his lips, and you step back as he tips forward, landing with a wet thump face first on the wooden floor. Glancing up at San, you sigh before getting back in the pool. One of his shadows carries the body away and your husband tugs his clothes off and slides into the water beside you, pulling you into his chest.
‘He did not hurt you, I presume?’
You snort. ‘He tried.’
San’s fingers run thoughtfully up and down your arm. ‘I’ll talk to the guards. I probably shouldn’t have put Jisung on dusk duty while he was recovering from that fever.’
You nod but don’t answer, instead pressing a kiss to his collarbone. He hums, tipping his head back to give you more access as you mouth at his skin, letting your palms wander over his shapely chest, grip his broad shoulders, skim his waist; you trace the many scars all over his body, and he allows you to, his strong hands gripping your hips when you settle in his lap.
He curses low at the feel of your teeth sinking into the spot where his neck meets his shoulder, his hips jerking upwards, and you both groan at the sensation of the underside of his cock grazing your clit. Smirking, you let your tongue lave over the spot where you bit, pressing a kiss to his jaw and pulling back as his hands tighten their grip on your ass.
‘Missed you too, Sannie. Good to know how much you missed me.’
‘So fucking bratty,’ he hisses.
A thrill shoots through you as he stands, the water sluicing in rivulets down the planes of his chest, lifting you and laying you on the edge of the pool, pinning your knees to the wood and spreading you open. The crude way he looks at you is all consuming, his eyes surveying you from where he stands with the water to his mid thigh, watching as you pussy clenches at the sight of him towering over you.
San remains there, just looking at you, and you curve your spine, almost whining in attempt to make him touch you without you asking for it. His lips quirk to the side as you squirm, trying to inch your hips down so you can grind against him, but his fingers tighten on you, refusing you.
‘What is it you require of me, love?’
Finding your attempts unsuccessful, you huff, glaring at him. He loves to do this, make you articulate exactly what you want from him - he likes the flush that heats your cheeks, your body still shy even after all your years with him, he likes the breathy noises you make when he forces you to tell him just what you desire when all you can think of is his dick, he likes it when you can’t  help but beg him.
‘Y - your fingers,’ you mumble. ‘And your cock.’
‘Say that louder for me, sweetheart, I didn’t catch the last bit.’
‘Your fingers and your fucking cock,’ you snap - a sorry endeavour at trying to hide how much you love when he inflicts this upon you.
San raises an eyebrow, not moving to touch you. Waiting.
‘Please,’ you add.
He smiles. ‘There we go. Wasn’t so hard, was it?’
Your mouth opens to retort, but he slips his fingers inside you, and your back bows, a soft moan leaving your lips as he sweeps his thumb over your clit, his other hand palming your breasts, his tongue dragging over your skin. Burying your hands in his hair, you tug, making him groan low and deep as you pull him closer.
Delectably, his fingers curl, and you ache for him. San has ruined you for anyone else, he is branded onto your soul and also your body, fading marks from your last time together still slightly visible on your throat - a necklace of love bites, laying claim to you. He catches your chin as he brings you closer to the edge, tasting your moans on his tongue, grinding his palm against your clit.
You keen, coming hard around him, chest heaving, and he smirks, holding your waist as shudders wrack your legs from the aftershocks. The fire in his eyes burns ever brighter, so hot you feel your stomach go molten - your hands tighten on his shoulders, nails raking over his back, your tongue unable to form anything other than his name.
‘You’re always so willing to behave once your pussy’s full, hm?’
‘No, I,’ you start, but cry out when he pinches your clit in warning, the muscles of your thighs jumping as it lances through you, white hot. ‘Y - yes, yes, I am, please - ’
In one fluid movement, San buries himself inside you, sheathing himself until his hips kiss yours. Catching you wrists in his hand, he pins them above your head, and your back arches as he pulls out, agonisingly slowly, every ridge and vein of his cock dragging on your walls before slamming back in, tearing a cry of his name from your chest. Tugging your legs up from where they were wrapped around his waist, he hooks your knees over his shoulders - the new angle makes you sob, writhing beneath him as his cock head drives into perfection, drives you to euphoria.
Sometimes, San makes love to you, but not tonight: tonight he fucks into you mercilessly, traces of possessiveness lacing his actions as he litters your skin with bites, his hands leaving exquisite bruises on your hips. Pleasure tears through you like an arrow through your heart, white hot and maddening, ravenous.
‘You fit around my cock so well,’ he pants. ‘Like you were made for me, sweetheart.’
Something snaps inside you at his words, and as if he senses it, San presses his thumb down hard on your clit, speeding up his thrusts until the air is punched from your lungs. Stars flash before your eyes, and your mouth falls open, toes curling as you come on his cock, your cunt convulsing around him, thighs twitching; he doesn’t stop, just continues ploughing into you, and you tremble, tears slipping down your cheeks at the relentless pound of his hips into yours.
With a gasp, he pulls out and comes over your stomach, his wide shoulders rising and falling with heaving breaths, and you groan as he eases you back into the warm water, a hand cupping the back of your neck as he tucks your head under his chin, sliding his softening cock into you again. Wrapping your arms around him, you press a kiss to his jaw and rest your hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm.
‘How do you feel, my love?’
You nuzzle your face into his shoulder. ‘Good. Really fucking good.’
He laughs, and you bask in the sound of his happiness and the comfort of his warm skin against yours. San’s hands run up and down your spine, soothing, and you smile sleepily; you are home, reunited with your other half, the missing part of your soul.
With San, you are complete.
340 notes · View notes
writing-funsies · 10 months
Text
OP characters as besties p.5
p.1 | p.2 | p.3 | p.4 | p.5
characters: Ace, Shanks, Mihawk
warnings: mentions of alcohol, light cussing
notes: all platonic hc's
Ace
will share his food with you
but won't let you take any off his plate
falls asleep on you all the time
uses you as his personal pillow
and will make fun of you if you freak out when riding with him on Striker
despite the fact that it's designed for only one person
but I digress
also uses you as a napkin if needed
sometimes shoots little flames at you to see your reaction
talks about Luffy nonstop
like that's the only thing he ever talks about
by the time you actually meet his little brother
you're ready to strangle both of them
not really
but you could spot the kid a mile away
before you ever actually got to know him
Ace and you working together to become more confident
always teasing each other
you having to fish him out of the ocean when he falls in
drinking contests
staring contests
fighting contests
eating contests
just competing over everything and anything possible
training together
he may be really strong and have a devil fruit power
but he won't hesitate to practice his hand-to-hand combat with you
especially if you need it
will tease you about it though
so you just push him overboard again
long talks about your lives
your pasts
your families
where you see yourselves in a year
five years
maybe even ten years
your goals
and aspirations
just talks about life
he tells you about his dad
and is relieved when you tell him that just because he was his father's son doesn't mean that'll be his legacy 
you two would die for each other
nothing will ever tear you apart
besties for the resties
9/10
super sweet and funny
but won't bathe no matter how much you beg
Shanks
party boy™
genuinely doesn't give a fuck
he's here to have fun
and protect his family
that's it
tells you the corniest jokes you've ever heard
also laughs at everything you say
like Luffy, laughs even when you're being serious
uses his missing arm as an excuse if you ever try to get him to do his duties as captain
sometimes struggles with phantom pains
but assures you they'll go away on their own
drinking contests
if he's got a drink in hand
then everyone's gonna have a good time
100% threw up on your shoes once before passing out
laughed like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard when you told him
quickly stifles his laughter when he sees how mad you are
offers to let you throw up on his shoes to make it even
you just stare at his sandals for a moment before walking away
watching Luffy's progress through the news together
bragging about the kid as if he were your own
the antics you two get up to guarantee that Ben will have a constant headache
the rest of the crew finds your dynamic duo to be hilarious
the sheer power of this crew is near unimaginable
so if the two of you ever actually fight enemies
they don't stand a chance
if anyone ever targeted you
and hurt you
Shanks would have his crew capture your attacker
and then show them exactly why no one messes with the Red Hair Pirates
8/10
always provides a good time
but will laugh at you if you fall 
Mihawk
I ain't ever seen two pretty best friends
until now
you are probably a little more lively than this warlord
he just doesn't care for drama
which means it's up to you to keep him in the loop
yet somehow he has the truly juicy details you could only wish to find on your own
y'all have a small book club
it's just the two of you
you tried to invite Perona to join
but she thought that your reading selection was so not cute
you even tried to invite Shanks once
all that accomplished was you gaining a new drinking buddy
which Mihawk begrudgingly allowed to happen
basically, the book club is just you two sipping on wine while discussing every mistake that the author made while writing your current read
salty bitches™
you're one of the only people alive who can get Mihawk to laugh
which is your favorite party trick
except that he's never laughed at the parties you both went to
(ie visiting Shanks and getting roped into a night of drinking)
he airs out all of the other warlords' dirty laundry to you
will talk mad shit about them
well at least most of them
he finds that no matter how powerful they may be
they're all idiots in his eyes
they can't see the big picture
he trusts that you have enough common sense to use the information sparingly
and you do
for the most part
it's giving rich single wine aunt meets vodka mom (but without the kids)
9/10
knows how to relax in style
but will not let you play with his sword no matter how many times you ask
835 notes · View notes
undiscovered-horizon · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
[Old love never rusts. Mihawk has to face that truth when he meets again the husband of the girl he almost had.]
Mihawk's version | Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request?
Mihawk wants the entire conversation to end before it has even started. He's aware that his heartache and anger are bound to get the better of him. Not to mention Shanks, who will surely gloat and boast beyond tastefulness. Although Mihawk can't exactly blame Shanks for his pride - the Warlord knows that he'd behave identically, if not worse, were their roles reversed.
Shanks knows what's on Mihawk's mind. he can read it on his face, in the sombre gloom that clouds his yellow eyes. Still, the red-haired captain patiently waits for the swordsman to break on his own. It will happen soon enough as the matter of you is the only subject that rids Mihawk of his self-control. He may be a great man, in more ways than one but when it comes to the insatiable love seems unable to let go, the Warlord becomes a young boy at heart, always seeking assurance that his affections are returned. Or not outright rejected, at least. Alas, the consequences of his own selfish actions have finally caught up to him and Mihawk must face the truth - this love is never going to be returned.
"How is she?" Mihawk asks reluctantly. He hates to give Shanks the satisfaction but the famished desire of his heart is a lot stronger than his iron will and pride. "You know of whom I speak."
Shanks gives him a mocking smile, a devilish flame appearing in his brown eyes.
"I also know you have no right to ask that, hawk-eyes," he answers. "Not when you treated her like a backup option."
"I never-" Mihawk hangs his voice. He takes a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. Agitated negation will only further prove the captain's point. Truth be told, deep inside Mihawk knows that Shanks is right. He did treat as someone who would always be there, waiting for him until he came back from his escapades. Until you grew tired; until you didn't. "Where is she?" he asks angrily. But what he really wants to ask is 'If you're here, who's taking care of her? Who's looking after the one you promised to keep safe and happy?'
"Home with the kids," Shanks retorts casually. Despite his light-hearted tone, there's a hint of something mischievous between his words.
Mihawk feels disgusted. The thought that Shanks got to know you intimately and built a familial life with you fills him with rage so visceral he'd rather claw his own eyes out than think about it. And that red-haired poor excuse of a husband probably considers himself good enough for you.
Laughable, if it wasn't so sad.
"I suppose I should wish you well," Mihawk begrudgingly murmurs. Once again, his words do not quite reflect his actual thoughts. He wishes you well but couldn't care less about Shanks's well-being. Mihawk already knows for a fact that the red-haired captain is incapable of taking care of you properly so it would really be mercy if Shanks had a little accident and Dracule could play the magnificent role of a consoling party.
"You should." Shanks nods. "But I know you won't." He lets out a bitter chuckle. He's disillusioned about Mihawk's perpetual heartbreak. Some part of him still pities the Warlord. After all, how awful must be the torment that can haunt someone like him for a good decade?
"Yes, I won't," Dracule drones his words. There is jealousy, there is envy and then there is the horrible sensation that has been eating him up for the past ten years, slowly turning the man into a bitter, brutal husk of a person. And he shall never find it in him to wish Shanks well after he had shamelessly taken the person the closest to his heart.
Turning on his heel, Mihawk marches away from Shanks. He knows that if he spends another minute around the red-haired man, he will do something he might regret.
He could be a mighty Warlord, the greatest swordsman alive and, perhaps ever - truly a someone. Alas, as a wise man once said: You're nobody until somebody loves you. And everyday of his life, each time he wakes up to a cold bed and a house drowned in deafening silence, Mihawk is reminded that he is less than nobody. For it was his own grandiosity that had ridded him of the person he cares about the most.
Dracule's gnawing loneliness is accompanied only by his own thoughts, only by the rumination of his utmost failure. 'It didn't have to be like this', he reminds himself on the nights when he can't fall asleep, 'You could have had everything'.
432 notes · View notes
animeyanderelover · 10 days
Text
I'm having a tiny bit of a Mihawk brainrot if you can't tell. I'm not sure if his past was ever really elaborated on so there are most likely mistakes in my interpretation because I am not caught up to the Anime yet.
Just imagine...
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Growing up together with the very boy that will in the future claim not only the title of "Strongest Swordsman in the World" but will also eventually become one of the Seven Warlord's of the sea. Hawk Eyes Mihawk is a name that will one day struck fear in everyone that hears it, whether it's a pirate, a marine or an innocent citizen.
Yet you have known him ever since both of you were just tiny children. You know all of his quirks, his likes and dislikes and all of his most sacred secrets and most embarrassing moments which he made you promise would be kept only between the two of you.
And Mihawk knows you just as much. He knows of all your dreams and your biggest fears, has been your shoulder to cry on whenever your heart was struck with grief, has witnessed all of your shenanigans and despite his better judgement has even participated in some of your reckless decisions, even if to simply be the one who ultimately saves you from any big troubles.
The dynamic between the two of you has always been like this. You have always been the dreamer, the one who has their heads in the clouds and loves romanticising everything. He can't even recall how often you spent your time excitedly recounting to him a dream you had in your sleep or proclaimed to him excitedly about a new ambition you had in life, every week a new one. One time you told him you wanted to be a doctor, another one you wanted to be a vet and the next time you announced your new dream of wanting to be a shipwright. You were like a pot just foaming over with dreams and positivity.
Mihawk on the other hand has always been your voice of reasoning and the guardian who is always right next to you when your excitement led to an impulsive and poorly made choice. He has always been the one who was your silent yet loyal shadow and the one you could always count on, even if he has dubbed you as an "idiot". He has always been the one who just sat there and silently listened to all of your excited rambling when the words were tumbling out faster from your mouth than you could form them, even despite reminding you that you should probably soon make up your mind whenever you discarded your old dream for a new one. You truly are a scatterbrained fool at times yet he has a weak spot for that bright glimmer in your eyes, a light as bright as the sun.
As adolescence catches up with you two, you stay the same dreamy fool who tends to daydream throughout the day, so deeply immersed in your own thoughts that time and your surroundings are forgotten.
Mihawk remains as the one person you are closest with and is the one who protects you from walking into doors, buildings or people when he realises that you space out again as you let your imagination run wild. Yet as he grows up from a boy to a man, his feelings for you mature. Both of you have always been exceptionally close to each other but it is only as his mind matures and becomes more complex that he starts questioning how he truly feels about you. You have always been the dearest person to his heart but as a child he has never truly considered your relationship as deeply as he does now. You've just always been the person he has known best and with whom he has shared the most, from the good to the bad. You have always been special to him yet it is only now that he realises just how special you really are to him.
He loves you.
He loves your ditzy and airheaded personality, your joyful laugh and the constant glow in your eyes as you look at the world around you as if you are discovering it for the first time and he especially loves the excited shimmer in your eyes when you tell him about your dreams.
Knowledge alone is only half the work though. Mihawk, who was back then only a flicker of what he will be in the future, doesn't know how to express those emotions he has for you. All he knows that he feels very intensely for you and he finds himself overwhelmed with this discovery. It is all chaotic and hectic inside of his heart and his mind. It is something new that frightens him over so slightly as he doesn't know how to control his feelings just yet which is why he decides to wait. To wait until he has understood his love for you a bit better before he will tell you how he feels about you.
Eventually both of you leave the island you grew up together in favor setting sail and heading towards the Grand Line. Both of you had dreams of your own yet neither one of you was at that time ready to separate from each other just yet. Mihawk's feelings for you have only grown since he became cognizant of them for the first time and they only intensify with each passing day, not enabling him to understand them nor to fully control them.
So used has he grown to having you all for himself though that he finds himself uncomfortable and possessive when you choose to engage with locals on an island both of you have landed on, an eerily intense look in those golden eyes of his that seemingly try to pierce the very soul of the person you choose to give your attention too despite him standing right next to you. It always spooks people and you can only slap him on his chest as you chastise him for his rude behavior, although he knows that you are never truly mad at him. Even he is secretly just glad that you give him your undivided attention again, even if he is grumbling as he defends himself against your little lectures.
Both of you enter the Grandline together and it is then that you finally decide to bring up the idea of you two finally separating. Initially Mihawk is quite reluctant as you suggest that idea to him. Wouldn't it be safer for both of you to stick together? After all neither of you two knows what lies ahead in those oceans. You are quite persistent though as you explain to him that you would like to achieve your dreams by yourself and that you think he should do the same. You clarify yourself by assuring him that you don't plan to never see him again but that you would like to do your best without his help with your own strength.
He feels the lump in his throat as he hears your reasons behind your suggestion, his mind struggling to imagine how it would be if you wouldn't been with him and he finds himself drawing a blank as soon as he attempts to consider it. You are someone he has always known throughout his entire life and even hearing your suggestion has his heart shaking with the thought of your absence if that were to really happen.
You two have always been together. Why would you want to change that now?
Both of you spend a lot of time arguing over this issue but ultimately you win him over, the light in your eyes persuading him by tugging at all of his heartstrings. His obsession has just started to bud and it isn't until a while later that it springs to its full awakening which is why Mihawk eventually caves in and agrees to your suggestion.
Both of you separate at the next island you land on but both of you make a promise to each other. That you'll meet again on this very island one year from now on to see how far you two have come with your dreams.
His heart is heavy when both of you bid each other goodbye, his hands holding yours tightly as he relishes one last time for the next long year in your brightness. The words he has been wanting to tell you for a while now linger on his tongue, the temptation strong to let you know about his feelings for you in a last feeble hope that his love may change your mind. Yet he knows as he looks into your beaming eyes that your mind has already been set so he can only swallow his feelings back, although he vows that when you two will see each other again, he will be strong enough to finally confess his love to you.
One year passes and he returns to the same island as a completely different person. Within only one year Mihawk has risen to unbelievable fame. He feels content with what he has achieved within the last year as he has grown into the strong man he swore to be one year ago on this very island and considers himself now ready to finally tell you about how he truly feels for you. The budding obsession as blossomed over the last year as your absence has forced him to fully acknowledge as well as embrace everything he has been feeling for you and now more than ever before does Mihawk plan to keep you by his side.
Only that you never show up.
Initially Mihawk decides to ignore the growing heaviness in his heart as he decides that maybe you experience some delay. The weather in the Grandline is after all infamous for its changing mood. So he waits for you.
One day.
Two days.
Three days...
With every sunset that he witnesses on the island, he feels a part of him silently dying with it. Emotions brew up inside of him as a few days turn into nearly an entire month and he finally can't deny the haunting truth anymore he has been trying to deny.
You won't return.
His heart shatters as he finally acknowledges this fact. There are so many emotions inside of him, far too many for him to identify each one of them as they blur together into one big storm that has his chest tightening and his heart silently screaming.
Why didn't you return?
He can only come up with two possible explanations and he truly doesn't know which one would be worse. Either you have forgotten about him and the promise you two made or you have died on the sea.
He dedicates months trying to find out the truth about what happened to you. He reads every single newspaper, somehow dreading yet hoping to find an article mentioning your name yet he is always left disappointed. He travels to the island he knew you were heading to after both of you separated in hopes of gathering information yet no one from the locals can give him any useful information about you. He goes through all the newest bounty posters to see if your name and face appear anywhere only to be left with a growing hole in his heart.
The last hope of his is finally shattered when he sails all the way back to the place both of you grew up in only to be met with the same dreadful emptiness as no one in the town has heard of you since him and you left the island on a ship over a year ago.
Nothing.
There is no trace of your existance in the world, no matter how long he searches for you as if you were only a fickle imagination of his own. He doesn't know whether you have forgotten about him, if something has happened to you or if you have met your end somewhere on those unpredictable seas.
It is a torment unlike anything he has ever experienced as the lack of knowledge drains him slowly and tortures him as he is unable to find any closure. No matter what, Mihawk seems to be destined to suffer one way or another. Hope is titled as the most beautiful thing in the world yet it is hope that only prolongs his suffering as a part of him is unable to accept the possibility of your death until he has proof.
As months turn into years, his heart shrinks and withers like a flower deprived of water and sunlight. The ambitious and determined man turns into a husk of what he was, his dream stolen from him without having been able to do anything. There is a growing resentment sharply directed against himself as the last few days with you haunt him.
He shouldn't have agreed to separate from you. If he would have just been more insistent, would you still be here with him?
The anguish of his lost dream nestles itself deeply into his shriveled heart as the perpetual heartbreak changes him. Colours seem to fade from the world around him as a feeling of numbness spreads like roots in the earth. There is nothing that excites him anymore, not even when he is dubbed as the strongest swordsman in the world. The title and the reputation that comes with it hold no meaning to him anymore, not when he doesn't have you to share his glory with. The hole in his chest is torn open as time flies by and every ship that crosses his path is dragged into his suffering as he wields Yoru against them. There is no meaning behind the carnage he leaves behind but he has lost sight of why he should care, the dwelling bitterness and sorrow inside of him tainting his honor.
He has lost the ability to live, feels more akin to a ghost as he drifts through the seas and clashes with opponents who are swatted away like flies only to be forgotten by him soon after.
There is a new listlessness clinging to him, his sharp eyes unable to see the worthwhile in this world now that you are gone. Everything is buried deep inside his chest and mind though so that no one can ever have those memories and feelings he has shared with you. Some people hoard gold and jewels, Mihawk's most precious treasure are the memories he has made with you over the years as there is nothing else he has left of you.
When the Marine offers him the title of a Warlord, he is only half the man he used to be. Surely you would have objected to this offer as you have always been rather warily of the government and if he would have been the man he once was, he would have sliced the person who had made such a ridiculous offer to him into dices.
That man is already dead though...
He accepts the offer after a while, although not because he is suddenly fond of the very people he used to hunt down. He just doesn't know what he should do with himself anymore. It feels like his life has halted and is just waiting for you to return, even if by now he has a feeling that he will never see you again, forever left in the darkness about your fate.
Someone once said that time heals all wounds. Those words are a lie. Mihawk doesn't heal as years just seem to trickle by faster than he can even realise. There is nothing of substance to his life, nothing worth to remember. Only the hole where his heart used to be reminds him that he is still breathing, the haunting emptiness inside of him something that will remain the only thing loyal to him until his body rots away.
The presence is barely something he takes notice of as he only lives in the past in his mind, clinging to every memory he has of you out of unadulterated fear that he may eventually forget what your voice sounded like or how you always looked at him with those bright eyes. If even those memories were to abandon him, he would lose even the grasp of his own identity within the never-ending cycle of the dull and forgetful life he lives now.
Many years later a miracle happens though. He finds you. On a random island within the Grand Line, he finds you again.
He doesn't even want to believe it when he initially sees your face. Maybe his mind is just playing tricks on him out of delusional desperation but as golden eyes trail you, he realises that he hasn't gone mad. It is you...
The weight of uncertainty that he has been carrying around with him for so many nights suddenly evaporates, its haunting shadow covering him no more.
There is no relief though for him though. No matter what outcome would have proved to be true, he always knew that he would end up getting hurt.
Why are you here? Where were you during all those years? How could you abandon him and betray his feelings so easily?
In that moment, as he stands there motionlessly as only his gaze follows you, he feels like a small boy again. Helpless, confused and hurt beyond words. Emotions he has been hiding behind inner walls for years threaten to burst out of him and an urge to unleash all of those seething emotions overcomes him yet none of those thoughts or desires are ever put into action. As if someone put a spell on him, Mihawk finds himself unable to move, as rigid as a statue. Perhaps his body is just in shock and in hindsight it is good that he finds himself unable to act in that moment to gain some semblance of control again. Otherwise who knows what he would have done in that moment.
He watches as you stroll through the city, your laughter which used to bring him only comfort and warmth seemingly mocking him as he feels a new shadow swallowing him up and filling his heart with a bitter taste.
Betrayal. You betrayed him.
You willingly chose to break the promise you two made decades ago and discarded him as if he were an disposable object instead of the person who spent your entire youth with you.
Did you even once consider how he would feel? Do you have any idea what he turned into because of your decision?
You left him! Didn't even bother to contact him to let him know that you were still alive! Whilst he spent endless days and nights mourning after you, driving himself insane as he didn't know of your fate, you were on this island and enjoyed your life!
A life without him.
Did he mean that little to you for you to make the decision to never see him again so easily? Did all the years he was by your side mean nothing to you?
His heart dies as he can only stand there and follow you with his gaze. All heartbreak, all of the grief that have eaten him alive from the inside out for countless seasons drain in the new cold rage that suddenly floods his veins, his pupils narrowing as his gaze zooms in on your smiling face.
What use did it have to mourn someone who lives? What use did it have to feel heartbroken over someone who clearly doesn't care about the pain he went through?
Mihawk has already wasted too much time dwelling in his own self-pity and in that moment he despises you for the shell you have turned him into.
You made the decision to disappear without a word. Now it is time for you to pay the consequences of that decision. He isn't here to catch up with you for old times sake after all.
No. He is here to take you.
And just as you didn't care about his feelings during all those years, this time he won't care for yours either. He doesn't care to hear your reasons and he doesn't care about your apologies if you should dare to voice them to his face. It is already too late for any of that.
Years too late.
166 notes · View notes
turtletaubwrites · 1 month
Text
Numbers Game ~ Part 11
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader
Numbers Game Masterlist
Word Count: 4176
Ao3 Link
Summary: Another night with the Cross Guild reminds you of all the reasons why you should feel afraid, and all the reasons why you don't. Mihawk and Crocodile discuss your professional responsibilities.
Author's Note: I don't think my brain is attached to my body when I write about these bad men 🤷🏼‍♀️
Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Swearing, Smut, Manipulation, Humiliation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Blood and Violence, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Dom Mihawk, Teasing, Threats, Arguing, Daddy Kink, PIV Sex, Unprotected Sex (be safe out there!), Creampie, Overstimulation, Hair-Pulling, Degradation, Orgasm Control, Choking
| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |
Tumblr media
The smile that broke across your face sent chills over your skin, even under the dangerous hands that gripped you on either side. 
Buggy’s smile grew impossibly wide, his eyes flaring when he saw how he’d affected you. He looked truly happy for the first time in days as he leaned closer, reaching a gloved hand toward yours. Faded red lips parted, but his words died in his throat when a golden hook wrapped around it. 
“I said we’ll try not to hurt you,” Crocodile rasped, yanking his hook just slightly until Buggy gulped, his wide eyes reflecting that menacing face. “Don’t get handsy with our girl when you smell like trash.”
“You got it, boss. I’ll go take a shower!”
Buggy’s head floated up while he nodded, freeing himself from the deadly hook. He flew toward the door, leaving a floating hand to wave for a moment before he was gone. 
“That’s not what I– fucking clown,” Crocodile grumbled, his hand still gripped around your neck while you held your breath to keep from laughing. 
“He really is a fool, isn’t he,” Mihawk wondered aloud, swirling the wine in his glass while his free hand released your fingers. He touched your knee, the gesture innocent, until the pads of his fingers teased circles around your skin. “How’s my little bloodhound, hm?”
“Blood–”
“Yes, darling,” he hurried, handing you your own glass to sip. “You did well with our wine tasting the other night, and today you told me that I smell like– what was it… dirt, but sour?”
You coughed as wine burned down your throat, and Crocodile patted your back a bit too hard while he chuckled softly. 
“I’m not offended,” the swordsman teased, grabbing your chin to pull you his way. Those piercing eyes scraped your skin until he gave a small smile. “I surveyed the local soil this morning to determine the best crops for the area. It’s decent, but a bit acidic, hence the sour smell.”
Unable to comprehend anything he’d said, you couldn’t stop your lips from parting, your brows from creasing, or your whole face from looking stupid while you tried to translate his words.
“You like to garden,” Crocodile asked, that deep voice soft with surprise. 
“I took up farming during my stay on Kuraigana,” Mihawk cleared his throat, releasing your flustered face while he took a sip of that potent wine. “It's a very productive hobby.”
“I’m sure it is. I bet that blade of yours works wonders on those stubborn weeds.”
The larger man’s taunt sped your pulse. You wanted to be as far away as possible if these two ex-warlords ever fought.
“I am capable of killing plenty of things without dirtying Yoru. Just be sure to keep your dry skin away from my vegetables,” Mihawk scoffed, taking another long sip as Crocodile let out a hearty laugh.
After a few moments of what couldn't be sulking, Mihawk sighed, returning his attention to you. 
“How are you feeling, pet? Did mean ol’ Crocodile rough you up too much earlier? Did he ruin that sweet, little cunt of yours?”
His fingers slid up your thigh, pushing the hem of your dress higher while he checked in.
“Go easy on her.” 
That warning growl stilled Mihawk's hand for just a moment before he let out a piercing laugh.
“Says the man I had to rein in earlier. Did you end up tearing her pretty pussy to shreds anyway? Before our little treasure even picks a safe word?”
“Watch your—“
“I have a safe word,” you chirped, interrupting Crocodile for the second time today. They were both quiet, the silence making you itch.
“Why didn’t you tell us,” he questioned, those large fingers kneading your neck and shoulders.
“Well, you didn’t ask, and I didn’t think…”
“You didn’t think what, exactly,” Mihawk cut in, a dangerous tease in his words. “Didn’t think that two ex-warlords would care at all if their favorite toy got broken beyond repair?”
He kissed your cheek then, squeezing your thigh while he poured more of that wicked voice in your ear.
“Don’t worry, pet, I’ll break you as many times as I please. But if you don’t take good care of my things, we’ll have a very different kind of punishment.”
“You know we’ll take care of you,” Crocodile rasped, the cold metal of his hook smoothing over your cheek. “Tell us your word, but promise you’ll only use it when you need it, sweetheart. You know how I feel about liars.”
“I p-promise. It’s ‘hopscotch.”
“Perfect,” Mihawk nibbled on your ear before pulling away. “Now we can have some real fun.”
A cheerful tune came whistling through the door before it burst open. Buggy gleamed under the light in a set of red pajamas, his long blue hair braided over his shoulder leaving a damp stain against that clean fabric.
He’d donned a light version of his circus makeup, and it hurt your heart to think of how long it might be before you saw him without it again. 
“This clown is as clean as a whistle,” Buggy announced, winking at you while he dragged the velvet chair as close as possible. He plopped himself down, laying his legs across the coffee table to wiggle his blue-painted toes in front of your knees. 
You shoved a knuckle between your teeth after a snort slipped out of you, and Buggy sent a floating hand to tug gently on your earlobe. Your cheeks burned, and you had to close your eyes.
The past few days had ripped you away, and you’d been feeling frustrated before then. 
But Buggy could always make you laugh. 
“It's been a long day,” Mihawk drawled, ignoring the barefoot clown as he looked over your head at Crocodile. “I think I’ll help our little rabbit tuck in for the night. Come along, pet.”
He stood gracefully, and you took his offered hand, not knowing what he was truly offering. 
“I’ll join you shortly,” Crocodile said after a pause, eyeing the swordsman as he carried you toward the door.
“I’ll come–”
Glancing back, you saw that golden hook catch Buggy’s braid, forcing him to turn away from you. 
“We don’t need you waiting by the door tonight,” the larger man chuckled, his deep voice following you through the air into the hallway. 
Mihawk’s hands felt electric as he held you, the chaste touch somehow tearing through your body.
How can he make every little thing feel so fucking filthy?
He hummed to himself as if he’d heard your thought, carrying you into Crocodile’s suite. You spun while he hung up his fancy coat, noting all the changes the suite had gone through since this morning, only stopping to watch Mihawk pull a few items from a wardrobe that hadn’t been there before. 
“Join me for a shower,” he asked lightly, tapping your nose. “I couldn’t bear to make my pet sleep with the scent of sour dirt tonight.”
“Okay,” you coughed to hide a laugh, still not sure how to act around this stoic man who didn’t seem so stoic around you.
Deadly hands undressed you, tracing your skin softly, just enough to make you sigh. Standing on that fluffy bath mat again with his nude body so close had you curling your toes, and you couldn't look away while he started the water.
“Here, darling,” he ordered, handing you a shower cap before brushing a few strands from your face. “It would be a shame to dull this pretty hair by overwashing it. Do you think those high society clients would still respect my little rabbit if she’s not as shiny as she was?”
“I don’t–”
Cruel fingers fisted into your hair, stretching your neck to the side while his tongue teased along that vulnerable flesh. You moaned as you clung to his sides, trying to stay on your feet while he guided toward the shower. He released you, his harsh grip followed with a gentle touch as he helped you put the cap on, tucking stray strands inside. 
Mihawk pulled you under that perfectly hot water, making your eyes roll back as he began to wash your skin. No touch was overtly sexual, but each one was sensual, leaving your body tingling, muscles relaxing under his attention. 
You’d almost forgotten what he’d been talking about.
“What will they think of their perfect numbers girl now that she’s my filthy pet? The Cross Guild’s pretty little slut?”
Blinking a few times to get your heavy lidded eyes to work, you found him waiting for you. Watching him spread suds across his unreal body almost took your mind away again.
“Some of them will judge me,” you started, meeting his searing gaze through the steam. “They’ll think I’m stupid, or crazy, or a whore.”
“Maybe all three,” he mused. You cut him off before the next words could leave his lips. 
“Most of them will be jealous.”
His lips quirked just slightly, and he pulled you under the water again, leaving a wet kiss on your lips as the soap rinsed away. 
“Why would they be jealous of you, Y/N,” he rasped when he wrapped a warm towel around you. Your name on his lips sent fear through your veins, making you question your answer, but you knew you could never lie to him. 
“I think they’re just as bored as I was, if not more. That’s why it’s so easy to convince them to throw money at ridiculous things. Why they all have stupid, petty skeletons in their closets. They’re boring people with boring lives, and they would kill for a little adventure, if they weren’t such fucking cowards. So instead of living, they just pay an obscene amount of berry to rub shoulders with little danger now and then.”
You ended your rant with a shrug, hanging the towel up to dry while the swordsman studied your every movement.
He left you in silence again, handing you a white linen top while you tried not to burn to ash under his molten gaze. Thankfully, you got you got distracted by watching him pull on burgundy pajama pants, the silky fabric doing nothing to dull the gleam of his still bare chest. 
“Is this yours,” you asked, finally pulling the white fabric over your head. It felt very piratey, and you tugged at the laces to close the wide gap over your chest, bouncing on your toes while you looked at your reflection. He wrapped himself around your back, meeting your eyes in the mirror. 
“It is. Let’s–”
“I didn’t think you owned any shirts.”
Your eyes went wide as the words left your lips, adrenaline buzzing through you at the feel of his fingers pressing into your skin. 
“I’m sorry, I–” 
“You are a brave little rabbit, aren’t you,” he whispered, kissing your temple before leading you by the hand. “Let’s get some rest. You’ve got a party to plan tomorrow.”
“Oh,” you nodded, watching him pull the blankets aside for you to climb onto the massive bed. He smirked as he joined you, his heat giving you chills when he pulled your back against his chest. His breath tickled your neck, and you melted into him as his deep hum vibrated through you. 
Each touch was gentle, almost lazy, as if those strong fingers were writing a lullaby on your skin. There was no push, just a soft pull toward relaxation, a call to join him in sleep. 
Yet whimpers fell from your lips, your body writhing against his until he let out a low chuckle, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.
“Is there something you need, rabbit?”
That voice sent your eyes rolling back, the hidden promise and threat in his words adding to the need dripping between your legs. He traced his nails along your thigh, and you moaned just from the feel of him that close. 
“Mm, what’s this,” he taunted as his fingers dragged through all that slick. Your back arched, his featherlight touch over where you ached for him forcing a whine from you. “So desperate for me. And I thought you’d be too sore. Or are you that much of a cockslut, Y/N?”
He blocked your greedy hand from reaching back for him, digging those just-gentle fingers into your arm while you whined.
“Use your words,” he chided, clicking his tongue. “Does my precious little whore want to get fucked?”
Legs shaking as you whimpered, your needy “yes” was barely audible. Your next breath came in a gasp as Mihawk shifted, wrapping his arm underneath you. It curled around you until his fingers gripped your throat, forcing you back against his chest.
“I didn’t fucking hear you, slut,” he growled as he pressed his silk covered cock against your ass. “Be a good pet, and beg for what you want.”
“Please, fuck me, sir–”
Your strained plea ended with a moan, Mihawk’s free hand pushing that silk out of the way. He choked you harder when he entered you, before wrapping his free hand around your hip to attack your clit.
“Mihawk…” 
“Such a lovely whore, screaming my name so well.”
His vicious praise, his calculated thrusts, and his wicked fingers around your throat sent you into chaos, spasming in his arms. He loosened the pressure on your neck as you came down, but kept everything else going. You twitched as he played with your clit, the pleasure almost too much before he slowed all of his movements.
“I understand why you want Crocodile,” the swordsman drawled, giving you just enough pleasure to make you whimper. “I saw how quickly you gave in this morning. You enjoyed being punished.”
“Mhm,” you admitted, moaning when he rewarded you with another squeeze to your throat.
“And somehow, that fool clown makes you laugh so much that you keep putting yourself in harm's way for him. But if all you want is a floating cock, I’ve got plenty of toys you can fuck without all that risk,” he chuckled as your body tensed. Then he gave you what you needed, hitting against that perfect spot inside you over and over until you forgot everything but him.
“That’s alright, little rabbit. I intend to remain your favorite.”
“What…” you breathed out, almost lost again.
“Shh, darling, you know how well I can read you. Mm, how’s that, pet,” he checked in.
“You feel so good.”
“You know I can make you feel good. So good that your body will crave my touch, even when your other lovers make you scream.”
One more thrust, one more touch of those fingers, and you would be screaming for him again. 
Instead, you almost sobbed as he went still. 
“But you’ll have to earn it. Be a good little rabbit for me, or I might even keep the others from offering relief,” he threatened in your ear. You could feel his cock pulsing inside you, and you fought the urge to fuck yourself onto him. 
“How many hours… How many days could you take it, hm? Maybe we should test it out, just to be sure.”
“N-no, please, sir.”
“Mm, such a well-mannered pet you are. Keep begging.”
You did.
You kept begging, even as your voice struggled through his choking grasp, and through the next orgasm he ripped from you.
“My hungry, little vixen,” he purred, kicking off that burgundy silk as he rolled you onto your stomach. He forced a pillow beneath your hips before his thrusts went mean. Your fingers twisted into the sheets, the overwhelm still too delicious for you to care. His breath against your hair made your eyes roll white as he propped himself up over your back. 
“Do you want to be a good pet for me,” he teased, his own voice finally straining.
“Yes,” you whined, almost there again, your body nearly done. A small part of you heard the door open, but the rest of you shattered at Mihawk's next words, and his harsh fingers ripping into your hair.
“Then take my come, you filthy slut… Mm, such a pretty whore, milking my cock on command. Fuck...”
Mihawk’s moans were just as intoxicating as his evil words, and you became nothing but pleasure with the pain. Your toes curled as hot ropes of come filled you, but he didn’t stop. He kept fucking his come into you, grunting softly while you whimpered beneath him, drool staining your lips. 
“That’s enough.”
Your body tightened at Crocodile’s low voice, making the swordsman’s cock twitch inside you, until you were gasping and squirming again.  
“You should be proud, Crocodile,” he teased, kissing down your back as he pulled out of you. He helped you roll over, smirking while he spread you open, showing off his work that was dripping slowly through your folds. “Our numbers girl is so obedient.”
“You’re not a whore, Y/N.”
Blinking up at that scarred face, you couldn’t fight the hazy fog of confusion while your body still twitched. 
“Don’t be so pedantic,” Mihawk scoffed, kissing along your jaw. “She wanted to be our whore, didn’t you, Y/N? Go ahead and tell your daddy what a cockslut you–”
“Enough.”
The command stopped your breath, and the shift in Mihawk’s body made your blood run cold.
Fuck, please don’t fight. 
Your golden-eyed lover sat up, but kept a possessive hand on your thigh, fingers smearing his pleasure down your skin.
“If I had known you weren’t good at sharing toys–”
“Y/N has other uses. If you can’t treat her as anything but a whore, then we should–”
Mihawk stood, his nude form facing off with Crocodile at the foot of the bed while you held your breath. 
“We should what? Let the poor thing suffer all alone with her dainty fingers every night? I’m sure she'd prefer being our whore over that. And why the sudden morality, Crocodile,” Mihawk challenged, sauntering toward the wall to lean uncomfortably close to Yoru. “Did you find religion in that hungry cunt this morning?”
You sat up, clutching at the loose, linen shirt to cover your chest, ignoring the sticky mess between your thighs. Crocodile cracked his neck, pale eyes flicking toward your movement. 
“We promised that she’d be our girl, and that we’d take care of her. She’s got more talents than that, and I won’t have you treating her like some cheap whore to toss out when you’re bored.”
Even naked, Mihawk was frightening, danger like lightning under his skin, ready to strike at any moment. He let out another sharp laugh, rolling his eyes.
“It’s just a word, Crocodile, I’d never toss out our little treasure. I’m surprised at what a prude you are,” he chuckled, moving toward you, but still not far enough from his sword for your liking. “Did you like it when I called you that, Y/N? Did you enjoy getting fucked like a whore?”
A tiny, pathetic sound left your throat, and his satisfied look made you shiver before you glanced up at Crocodile's unreadable face. 
“Answer him, sweetheart,” his gravelly voice coaxed, nodding at your choked out “yes.” He turned back to the smug swordsman, taking a single step, his long legs bringing him too close.
“Y/N’s our numbers girl, our financial advisor, and she’ll need to be taken seriously if this guild is gonna make any berry. If you disrespect her in front of anyone besides me or the clown, we will have a problem.”
“There it is,” Mihawk smirked, his chin lifting even higher as he returned the larger man’s glare. “Our overgrown lizard didn’t fall in love after all. I wonder how many people you’d whore her out to if it’d net you more ber—”
Your scream felt quiet compared to the clash of hook against sword. 
The ex-warlords seethed, sword cleaving through empty air as flesh turned to sand, their venomous words lost to your ears while you struggled to move. 
You wanted to run, to hide, to beg them to stop fighting over you.
They’re not fighting over me. They’re fighting for control. 
That thought slowed your breathing, fear growing sickly sweet in your gut. Even with all the danger, you had started to feel safe, a naïve part of you had believed all their promises. 
But what if I stop being useful?
The door cracked open, panicked blue eyes watching the first slow tears fall down your frozen cheeks. Until warm fingers wiped them away. 
The noise of the fight still echoed through the room, but your mind was gone from it as two disembodied hands held you under your arms, lifting you into the air. Buggy nodded reassuringly as he floated you toward him, shouldering the door open for you to fit through. His handless arms were outstretched, waiting to catch you, but his hands almost dropped you when the door slammed shut. 
Sand had hit the door, shifting into that daunting form. Crocodile’s breathing was heavy as he scowled down at you.
“Where were you off to, little rabbit,” came Mihawk’s taunting voice, breathing against the back of your neck.
“I’m sorry," you stuttered, quivering in the air, "I wasn’t–”
“It’s my fault, I was taking her! She looked scared, that’s all, Y/N didn’t ask–”
Crocodile opened the door, dragging Buggy inside by his braid, bringing the clown within reach. 
So you reached for him. 
“Buggy…” you gave one quiet sob, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You breathed him in as he returned his hands, holding you close.
The embrace lasted longer than you thought it would, and you melted into him, until anxiety hit. Opening your eyes, you caught Crocodile watching you, touching your damp cheek with a finger while he shook his head.
“Didn’t mean to scare ya, sweetheart. I promised we’d take care of you, alright?”
You nodded over Buggy’s shoulder, his own breathing ragged as he pressed you against his chest. Your other lover came into view, standing close to his recent opponent while he trailed gentle fingers through your hair.
“Don’t fret, darling, I just like to play. You know I’ll protect what’s mine,” he promised, his head tilting when you nodded for him.
The four of you stayed like that, your heart the only thing that seemed to move. Buggy held you tight, while Mihawk and Crocodile stared down into your wide eyes. 
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Mihawk finally broke the spell, guiding Buggy to carry you to the bathroom, cleaning up the mess between your thighs. He didn’t even tease you, just kissed your forehead when he checked in. “Will you feel safer if the clown stays with us tonight?”
It felt like a dangerous question, but you were too tired to lie. 
“Yes.”
Buggy’s surprised hum made your eyes flutter closed, until you were set down on that huge bed. Crocodile kissed your temple while Buggy slid in on your other side, with Mihawk wrapping his arm around the clown to reach you. You were curled against Buggy’s chest, and with Crocodile wrapped around your back, you were embraced by three ex-warlords all at once. 
The blanket was replaced with a sheet, but even then, you wondered if you’d wake up on fire from the heat of all their bodies.
The giggle that escaped your lips at that thought shocked you, and brought soft noises from your three lovers. Buggy kissed your hair, Mihawk’s fingers traced a few slow circles along your side, while Crocodile’s deep voice rolled over you. 
“Feeling alright, sweet girl?”
That slowly shrinking part of your brain tried to convince you that you should be terrified. That tonight was more proof of the danger you’re in. That you should run for your life, run away from the Cross Guild at the first chance you got.
But being held like this, feeling their warmth, and melting into the intoxicating scent of all three of them made your fear fade into nothing. 
“I feel good,” you confessed, letting yourself drift into dreams, with three living anchors to guide your way.
~
“Mm, pretty…”
“Bugs,” you sighed, shifting beneath the press of heat around you. Buggy groaned as he rutted against your thigh, but you couldn’t writhe under the weight of so many arms. 
“I wonder what clowns dream of to get their dicks so hard. It has to be our little rabbit.”
Mihawk’s hand had trailed down your side, brushing against that hard length. You were wide awake now, but still trapped, Crocodile’s low chuckle sending shivers over your skin while Buggy woke with a yelp.
“Good morning! I’ll just–” Buggy choked out, body tensing as he looked back and forth between the other men. He tried to float away, but his head got yanked back, his braid caught beneath your shoulder, and Mihawk’s arm that was wrapped around him squeezed tighter until he stilled. 
“I don’t believe this clown asked for permission to rub his cock all over our little rabbit, did he?”
“No, he didn’t.”
Tumblr media
Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!
a/n: Lol, sorry about Buggy getting his braid caught 3 times in this chapter. I had super long hair for years (lower back to mid thigh), and used to get stuck everywhere 😅 Poor Buggy, our lil clown is trapped again
Tumblr media
Tag List: @shewrites02 | @caniseethefourthsword | @hey-august | @chaoticqueen33 | @destinationmars | @novakitten0901 | @h0n3y-l3m0n05 | @dorky-birdie | @szired | @pinejayy | @laws-wife-things | @jadeddangel | @gingernut1314 | @urlocaltwink | @blue-rae18
Part 12
Tumblr media
Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.
Tumblr media
| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |
206 notes · View notes
usernameforaboredcat · 8 months
Text
Black & Red (Shanks X F!Reader X Mihawk) SMUT
Anonymous request (I got chu)
Just a simple day at the beach drinking turns into something way more hot and steamy than expected.
A long fic, have fun babes
Warning ⚠️: age-gap, threesome, groping, double penetration, deep throating, maybe some others that I forgot idk its sex ya know the type of shit youre signing up for.
Tumblr media
“Shaaaanks, come on! It’s too early to drink, we’ll be up all night again”.
“Don’t worry about it so much sweetheart! It’ll be fun!”.
That’s the last coherent conversation I remember before getting shit faced and passing out on a beach with Shanks. No matter how many times I tell myself ‘you gotta stop doing this, I don’t care how hot he is I can’t be drinking this much’ but do I ever listen? No of course not! Have you see him? That man is so hot and fine, all I can do is easily submit to anything he asks. I mean it's not the first time he's easily made me submit to something, which ended in a lot of hookups or alleyway deepthroating. Hehe...
I awaken from my slumber as I feel myself being shaken. “Wakey wakey sweetheart”. I hear an all too familiar and soothing voice. I groan and snuggle more into his chest. “Nooo. You made me drink and gave me a hangover”. I mumble. “Does it make you feel better knowing that I have one too?”. He asks, running his fingers through my hair.
“A little”.
~
I yawn as I walk back to the cove the crew was camping at, coming back from some private business time…I had to pee. I see the crew already partying and drinking again. Seriously? “Hey! (Y/n)!”. I look towards Shanks, seeing him drinking with an unfamiliar man with a large sword sitting next to him, a long coat and a large hat. “Have you ever heard of the 7 warlords?”. Shanks asks me, the man turning to look at me. “Uh yeah…I’ve heard of them…”. I answer nervously, I think I already know where this is going before he can even finish. “This is Mihawk! An old buddy of mine! He’s one of the warlords”. He explains, using his free hand to usher me over.
I walk over to the two men, Shanks pulling me over to sit on his lap. "Come on (Y/n), don't be shy now and say hi!". He tells me, as if I'm a child. Sir, I'm 20. I turn to look at the warlord, man is he an attractive man. "Hello". I greet him. "Hello, young lady". He greets back. I turn to look up at Shanks, tugging on his shirt to draw his attention to me. "So what's this about? Why are we partying again?". I ask him, tilting my head slightly. He smile and laughs. "Ya know that Luffy kid I told you about? He finally got his first wanted poster!". He answers happily.
I remember him talking about that Luffy kid. Shanks told me how he met him years ago, the dumb little kid who cut his cheek and ate the gum gum fruit. He isn't any younger than me, the more I think about that the more it kinda makes me feel weird. Still, I'd like to meet him one day.
"Huh, look at him". I mutter under my breath, but I know Shanks heard me. As if the conversation is forgotten about, Shanks now holding out a filled cup of booz to me. "Enough yappin! Take a sip, dear". He orders me. 'Uh, I really don't wanna drink'. I take the cup from him, taking a sip from it. "Atta girl". He coos, his hand now sitting on my hip, rubbing up and down with his thumb. I feel a shiver runs down my spine, the feeling of his hand running straight to my core. He knows exactly what he's doing, he knows how to get my body going.
'God, I hate him'.
~
My breath quickens as I feel a jolt run through my body, whimpers slipping through my lips no matter how hard I try to hide them. "Ssshhh, not so loud baby". Shanks whispers into my ear, his finger not stopping it's abuse on my clit. I throw my head back into his board shoulder. "Sh-Shanks, pleeeease~". I whimper out. "Hm? Please what? Need me to fuck you already?". He asks in a deep tone, his hot breath down my neck. "I-hhh I!". I stumble on my words, needing him to give me just a second to cum. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Shanks". I feel my body freeze, but Shanks doesn't stop. "Oh, hey Mihawk". He pulls his hand away, my legs giving out and I collapse to the forest floor.
"What's up? You leaving already?". Shanks asks the other man. "I was thinking that, yes". Mihawk confirms. "Oh come on, you just got here. Why not have a little fun with (Y/n) and I? I don't mind sharing that pretty face". He offers the man. 'HUH!?'. I turn my head behind me, looking over to the men. I look over to Mihawk, seeing that he's already looking at me dead in the eyes with a hungry look. "You're too open with sharing your toys, Shanks". He comments, taking his sword off his back and setting it against a nearby tree. The two men walk over to me, Mihawk standing in front of me as I feel Shanks crouch behind me. "You don't mind, do you sweetheart?". Shanks asks me, pulling me back so my back is against his hard chest, using his hand to rub my chin. "N-No". I stutter out nervously, looking up into Mihawks almost glowing eyes.
Shanks chuckles as his hand goes down to my shirt, pulling it up to expose my bare chest. "Good girl~". He hums into my ear, nuzzling into my neck. I shiver and shut my eyes as Shanks's cold hand goes down to my chest, groping and grabbing at my tit. I let out a soft moan, feeling him twist and play with my nipple. Shanks's head rises once again, nibbling on my ear lobe. "Come on baby, show the war lord what that mouth of yours can do". He orders. I hum with a nod, finally opening my eyes to look up at the warlord.
I break eye contact to see a growing bulge in his pants, only half hard. I grab the hem of his pants, slowly pulling them down. His half hard shaft rises up slightly, hanging straight out from his body. I reach up and grab him by the base, Mihawk letting out a very quiet groan. I lean forward and close my lips over his tip, licking his tip. I look back up to look into Mihawks eyes, slowly moving my head back and forth as she stares down at me. "Oh don't try and ease me into, unless Shanks hasn’t taught you properly”. He comments in an unimpressive tone.
Shanks chuckles from behind me, his hand sneaking up to the back of my head. “She can take it, I have her working that throat of hers every night like the slut she is”. He responds, gripping my head and moving my head for me. I moan into Mohawks cock as Shanks moves my head for me, shoving me down on his cock more. I cough as I feel myself getting shoved deep down, feeling him deep down my throat. Shanks moves his hand away, but I keep the pace he set and continue to deep throat his cock. “That’s better”. Mihawk compliments. “Yeah, she’s a good girl, aren’t ya sweetheart”. Shanks chuckles, sliding his hand down my back. My body jolts when I feel Shanks’s hand back in my panties, running his finger through my wet folds.
My body shivers as I feel Shanks use a free finger to poke it in and out of my aching pussy, causing me to just need more friction. My body was already so close to being filled, but now we're back to square one. My body is tingling painfully, needing release finally. I start to moan painfully onto Mihawks cock, breathing through my nose quickens as tears build up in my eyes. I try to move my body, needing more than just the tip of Shanks's fingers inside me. "Shanks, your pet is getting restless". Mihawk tells the red head. Shanks chuckles. "I can tell, she's trying to suck my fingers in". He confirms. Mihawk then grips the back of my head aggressively, speeding up his pace and slamming down into my throat. "Don't worry dear, you can get fucked as much as you want once I'm finished". He tells me, his penis tip punching the back of my throat.
Shanks chuckles again. "Look at you, you'll get all the cock you want. I bet a whore like you is loving this". He whispers into my ear. "I can't wait to see you drenched with cum". He adds in a deeper tone, licking up my neck. "Take it, take Mihawks cum, take all the cum like I trained you to". I shut my eyes as tears spill from my eyes, struggling terribly to breath. My body feels like it's going to explode, ready to gush all over Shanks's hand. With a few twitches of his cock, Mihawk slams all the way down my throat his warm cum fills up my throat. I cough on the cum, gulping it down. Mihawk slowly pulls out his dick, sucking on the left to leave not a single drop. "Good slut". Shanks compliments. "You did train her good, I commend you that Shanks". Mihawk tells him. "Wait till you feel her pussy, perfection". Shanks respond.
Shanks pulls his hand away from me as I let out an annoyed whimper, pushing my body slightly to let my body fall to the ground on my hands and knees. I breath heavily as I try to catch my breath, my body shaking and loosing its mind from not be able to cum again. A cold hand on my ass makes me jump, I look lazily over my shoulder to see Mihawk kneeling behind me. I turn to look in front of me, looking up to see Shanks looking down at me with a smirk. He gently grabs my chin, rubbing it with his thumb as his smirk turns into a loving smile. "You're such a good girl, if I wasn't clingy I'd let people pay for them to fuck you. You're perfect mouth, pussy, ass, everything. Other men wish they could get one night with a goddess like you". He praises, his words going straight to my core. The mental image of getting fucked and covered in cum while Shanks watches, full bukaki as he just sits happily.
"Would you like that? Or would you rather some weak desperate men pay to watch me fuck you, show them how to really please a woman". He adds. That hit my core harder, Shanks cucking a guy. Some poor bastard watching Shanks fill and fuck my pussy full of cock and cum. I feel a warm tip rub against my folds, rubbing at my tip and poking at my hole. "Go ahead Mihawk, I wanna see the faces she makes when being filled by another man". He tells the other man. Then without warning, Mihawk easily slides his cock fully inside me. A whimpered moan escapes my lips, my legs shaking at the feeling of being filled finally. "Now isn't that a pretty face". Shanks points out, palming himself through his pants. "Sh-Shanks~". I whimper out, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "I need...yoooooou". I moan out, craving more. I struggle to keep my body steady as Mihawk ruthlessly pounds into my body, slamming deep inside me. It feels weird to have another cock inside me, being so used to Shanks monster in his pants. Mihawks length is kind of refreshing, feeling his tip slamming into my curvix.
Shanks chuckles as he looks down at my wanting face, eyes begging for something from him. "You really have been a whore all along, being stuffed with cock and still needing more". He hums. He sits up more, pulling his pants down and his cock smashing me in the face. "Go on then, take the cock you so desperately need". He tells me. He slides his cock into my mouth, my body quickly jolting back and forth. I moan onto Shanks's cock, breathing rapidly through my nose. I can't breath, my body is shaking so much. 'FUCK, I'M GONNA CUM AND WE'VE JUST STARTED! FUCK BUT I NEED TO CUM!'. I give in, moaning loudly as my body finally releases as my body shakes violently. Mihawk hisses, pounding faster. "What's wrong buddy? She cum and squeeze ya?". Shanks asks him. "Indeed, she's trying to strangle me". He responds, causing Shanks to laugh.
"Props to you, I would have cum at her clenching like that". He chuckles. "You're just weak". Mihawk comments. I'm surprised I can still comprehend what they're saying, my whole body is weak and my head is fuzzy. I can't go on, cumming and still being fucked is driving my body crazy. I can tell that I'm finally giving out, because now I can't hear properly what the two are saying. Everything stops, feeling arms wrap under my legs and I get hoisted up with Shanks's cock popping out my mouth. I feel my back press against Mihawks chest, him holding me out spread legged. I see Shanks standing in front of me, he strokes my cheek loving me. "Sh-Shanks...". I pant out. He pulls his hand away, letting me lean my head against Mihawks shoulder.
My body jolts, fulling waking up at the feeling of Shanks sliding into my insides. I pant at the pain, reaching to grip hard onto Shanks shoulder. "That's it, you can take it". Shanks reassures me in a soft tone. My body relaxes, feeling the two men filling and stretching me out. My body felt so stuffed, I thought I was going to rip in half. The feeling didn't get any better when the two started to thrust in sync, thankfully going slow on me. Every breath was a loud moan, my eyes rolling to the back of my head. Their pace speeds up, my mouth drooling from them massing up my insides. The feeling is indescribable, being fucked hard and stuffed to the brink of ripping. I felt like I was gonna pass out, I don't even know if I could cum again.
Their paces speed up, going full speed in and out my pussy. I cry and scream out my moans, digging my nails so hard against Shanks's shoulders that I wouldn't be surprised if there was blood. I could feel my freedom apporting, feeling the two older men twitching and their thrusts growing sloppy to out of sync. Next minute, Shanks lets out a groan as he finally cums. He sits and stays there panting, staying inside me. Soon enough, Mihawk cums again for a second time. The two pull out of me, Mihawk moving me to be laying in his arms. I feel like I'm on the verge of passing out, my brain fuzzy and hazy. A warm hand strokes my face softly, a soft kiss on my forehead. "Good job baby, you can rest". Shanks soft voice luls me to sleep, I finally pass out in Mihawks arms.
[bonus]
The two older men walk out the forest and back onto the beach, the other pirates noticing the passed out younger girl in Mihawks arms. "Is she okay?". Benn asks. "Did something happen?". Yasopp asks. Shanks waves them off. "Don't worry she's all fine, just a little shaken up". He reassures. "Why? Did something happen?". Benn asks. Mihawk chimes in. "Just some scary monster".
454 notes · View notes
gojos-thot-patrol · 9 months
Text
Now Loading...
Tumblr media
A short drabble in which Sukuna grapples with the fact he's going to be a dad
Tumblr media
Sukuna had never wanted to be a dad. Why would he have any desire for that? A ball of snot and shit that rolled around on the floor and insisted on getting into everything? No thank you. He had other far better things to worry about. A child was out of the question.
So, it's really no surprise that you kept your pregnancy secret from him for so long. You may have been his favorite of the concubines, but you didn't think his favoritism extended that far. You'd seen other girls slaughtered for being cursed with a child, and were trying to avoid that fate for as long as possible. You couldn't avoid Sukuna though, not if you wanted to hold your spot as favorite. And that spot was the only chance you had of surviving this whole ordeal.
Sukuna wasn't an idiot, much to your dismay, and was very familiar with your body. The moment you started to show, he knew. And the resulting temper tantrum was nothing short of horrific. 
“And just how long were you planning on keeping this from me?!" He yelled so loud you could feel your soul shake. Tears streamed freely down your face as you tried to make yourself seem small.
"I don't know-" you confessed. 
"You don't know?!" He snapped, "you don't fucking know?! Do you think im stupid Y/n? Is that it? Did you think I wouldn't notice you were fucking pregnant?!" He punctuated his sentence with a punch to the wall, making what felt like the whole structure shake. 
"I'm sorry My Lord." You knew better than to try to defend yourself in this situation. Sometimes it was safe to push back against Sukuna. Sometimes he liked to play brat tamer, and remind you of your place in fun ways. Now was not one of those times. To challenge him now would be to meet whatever God it was you worshiped, or lack thereof. 
"You're sorry," He sneered, "you're so sorry, like that fucking fixes anything! Why wouldn't you tell me the moment you knew?!"
"I didn't want to upset you."
"You fucked that up when you got pregnant, whore." He scoffed, pinching the bridge of his nose and looking away in disgust. "Abhorrent girl, bringing a disgusting creature into my temple. Get out my sight until I can decide what to do with you."
You didn't need to be told twice. You rushed out of his throne room and back into the concubines quarters, just thankful to have your life. All in all, he took the news surprisingly well and it went better than you thought. You held your stomach as you worried about what your Lord would have done with your baby. With his baby. But, for now, you had survived the most dangerous part of all of this. Now you really just felt like you needed a nap.
Sukuna avoided you for weeks after that. It was harder than you thought to be on the other side of the avoidance game. You didn't realize how much you had grown to appreciate Sukuna’s attention until it was gone. You wondered what the hell he was up to, especially considering none of the other girls had been "blessed" with his attention either. 
He was too busy battling with his own internal demons. The part of him that wanted you dead for the creature you were brining into his temple- and the part of him that wondered what a baby from the two of you would look like. Would they have his cursed techniques? Would they have your eyes? This was the part of himself that he hated the fucking most. 
He was a ruthless warlord, he had no time for love or children or a family. And he definitely didn't have it in him to admit he'd grown soft for a fucking concubine of all things. How fucking pathetic of him. The only way he could rationalize any of this was to tell himself it was a for an heir. He wasn't going to live forever after all, might as well take this opportunity. Still, was really going to let a fucking whore mother his heir? There was only really one thing he could do. 
You still remember the ice in your veins as you realized all of the concubines had been gathered in the court yard for an execution. It made sense, he hadn't been with any of you for a month now- and for the other girls quadruple that. You had all just become extra mouths to feed. 
So then why weren't you down there with the rest of them? There was no hiding your swollen stomach now, if any of the concubines stood to be killed- it was you. But you had been tucked away safe from the executions in Ryomens sleeping quarters. Why? 
The answer came pretty quick as he joined you in his room. His face was unreadable, which chilled you more than any blizzard could have hoped for. Ryomen had always worn his emotions on his face, and you had always been able to read him as if he were a well loved book. This was out of your comfort zone. You didn't like this.
"I spoke to your father." He finally said.
"My father's alive?!" You gasped 
"Yeah, I was shocked too." He huffed, taking your hands in his. "You're to be my wife." He said rather bluntly as he looked into your eyes. There was no room for negotiation here, Sukuna made that clear. Despite yourself, you felt a wave of excitement surge through your body.
"I am?!" You asked, smilingly like a fool. He gave a rare, gentle smile back. And that's when you finally saw the softness in his eyes that was only reserved for you. 
"You are." He confirmed, "under the condition that you can birth me a healthy heir, that is." He said, placing an uncharacteristically gentle hand on your stomach. You knew without him having to say it that this was his best attempt at an apology. The future king of curses could never bring himself to say the words 'I'm sorry' or 'I was wrong.'  But, he could lovingly take you in his arms, and hope you got the message.
Ryomen was unnaturally tender in the days leading up to you giving birth. He had all of the best doctors on standby, and refused to leave your side. Anyone that so much as breathed wrong in your vicinity would have hell to pay. He didn't know what the fuck had gotten into him. All he knew was that as your stomach got heavier, his need to protect you and the life growing in you got more intense. Like some animalistic part of his brain knew a part of him was inside you, and to protect you was to protect himself. At least, that was how he rationalized it.
The day you gave birth he was a fucking mess. It killed him to listen to your screams of pain and be unable to do anything to help. All he could do was let you break his hand with your death grip, and reassure you you were doing amazing. Rare moments of his praise lost in the sounds of an agonizing labor. He didn't expect the relief that washed over him when he first heard his son cry, a sound he thought was going to be horrifically annoying some how sounding like music to his ears.
"Y/n, can you hear him?" He asked, mostly to make sure you were still alive. 
"Sadly." You were not as enthused by baby screaming as Ryomen was. You were decently pissed off when, after being cleaned and checked over, the baby was given to Ryomen instead of you. You were the one that carried that bitch for nine months, and had just spent hours to deliver him, you should get to hold him first!!
All of that melted away when you saw the look in your husband's eyes as he stared down at his new child. You had never seen Ryomens eyes twinkle, but they were absolutely sparkling now. It even took him off guard just how deeply he fell in love with the baby the moment they touched. Flesh of his flesh, blood of his blood, he was holding his entire future in his arms. His chest felt like it was going to implode from how tight it was, and- holy shit, was he holding back tears?!
"He's beautiful." Ryomen finally choked out.
"He looks just like you." You hummed. He chuckled and shook his head.
"No, not at all. He's too good to look anything like me. He's all you." You shook your own head at the blatant lie. That kid was carved from the exact same marble Ryomen was, but you had no energy to argue. 
Soft cries started to bubble up from baby boy as he stirred. Instinctively, you reached out for your son. It was almost reluctantly that Ryomen handed him over to you. You smiled as you pressed your newborn to your chest to feed him, finally getting a good look at the life you brought into this world. 
"Thought of any names?" You asked your husband. Ryomen paled a bit. He really hadn't. 
"None worthy of him." Technically it wasn't a lie. You chuckled softly. You expected such an answer. 
"What about Ryuu?" You asked, looking up at Ryomen.
"Ryuu?" He asked, mulling the name over. The name meant Dragon. It was strong, and noble. He could definitely see Ryuu Sukuna leading his armies into battle one day. He smiled and nodded. "I like it. Ryuu it is."
879 notes · View notes