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24 , she/her biggest crocodile fan ever #1 onnawani shipper 🌷🐊

[crokoby]

SAM ⋮ ⌗ ┆24 , she / her , writer

<3 ⋮ one piece , attack on titan , mouthwashing , outlast , jojo’s bizarre adventure , resident evil , five nights at freddy’s , baldur’s gate 3 , my hero academia , call of duty , beserk

</3 ⋮ hazbin hotel / helluva boss , hetalia , bugs , unwarranted rudeness

BYF ⋮ NSFW , profic , dddne , 18+ acc

requests ⋮ open

strawpage coming soon <3

[creamsickle-writes]

Swimming with Sharks: Arlong x F!Reader

Tags: nsfw, unhealthy relationships (Reader is delusional), Reader is kept as a "pet", masturbation, size difference, double penetration, oral sex, Arlong-typical degradation

There had to have been something wrong with you.

You were enamored with a pirate, which was bad enough on its own, but the situation was even more twisted than that, as the pirate you lusted after was the man who had been holding your village captive for the past eight years. 

Arlong was a horrible, terrible man.

You felt disgusted with yourself. This wasn’t normal, and it certainly wasn’t healthy. This man had killed villagers, recruited a child to join his slimy crew, and was very open about his views on the “inferior” human race. To him, you were nothing more than a piggy bank, offering your tribute as often as he requested.

But whatever god exists is cruel and loves to play jokes.

You couldn’t help but be enchanted by him. Maybe it was his power, tall stature, or something else entirely, but you wanted him more than anything.

To be his was all you ever desired since Arlong arrived years ago, awakening something inside your teenage heart. You had hoped it was just the hormones acting up or some sort of weird phase, but no, you were in your twenties now, and the fish man still made you hot and bothered.

And as much as you wanted to hate him, to loathe and despise him, you couldn’t.  

So when collection day came, you were jittery in anticipation instead of shaking and cowering in fear like an average person would. It was the rare occasion where you got to see him up close, and while he wouldn’t speak with you directly, you would hear his gruff voice ordering his underlings around. 

And today, you were very fortunate as Arlong would grace you with his presence once more. 

When the fishmen enter the village, the place becomes a ghost town, everyone making themselves scarce as they wait for the pirates to bang on their door. 

You peek out the window, your heart racing and your head spinning as you watch them approach your neighbor’s house. You observe in interest, your eyes raking over each man before your eyes finally catch on Arlong, who seems to be conversing with one of his men.

When they head for your door, you’re on the porch before they even get the chance to knock. On the porch are several fishmen, but Arlong seems to be missing. Your face falls in disappointment.

“Well, you’re eager for us to drain your pockets,” one of his crewmates laughs, leaning in to sneer down at you, “Just make sure you hand it all over, or else we’ll have to sic our Captain on you.”

Your ears twitch at that.

You knew what you were thinking was dumb, reckless, and really dangerous, but this was an opportunity to get his attention, and it couldn’t be thrown away.

“Ah, I don’t have any money this month-“you smile nervously, “But maybe I could talk things over with your Captain and-“

As you try to talk your way into meeting with Arlong personally, the fishman you’re speaking to glances over your shoulder, seeing your purse lying on your kitchen table.

“You have nothing, you say?” He asks, clearly not believing a word, “Then what’s this over here?”

He shoves you aside roughly, and you hiss in pain, rubbing the area where he pushed you. 

The man starts digging around in your handbag, retrieving enough berries for his month’s payment and then some. 

You grow hot in embarrassment as he waves the cash in the air before walking towards the door, “Looks like humans are just as dumb as I thought! They can’t even count properly.”

Shit. There goes the money for food.

As the fishman passes the threshold, you hear him call out, “Hey, Arlong! This human was trying to get out of handing over our money!”

And when he emerges from the rabble of men, your heart races in your chest.

“What’s this now?” His low voice inquires, talking more to you than to his subordinate. 

You try to muster the courage to speak, but nothing comes out. Arlong steps forward, crowding your space, and your heartbeat grows louder.

“And why would you ever think of doing that, little human?” The question is definitely more of a threat, and because you are clearly some sort of masochist, your insides throb excitedly. 

You answer honestly, “I-I wanted to get your attention-“

His crew bursts out laughing.

“His attention?”

“It’s like a child!”

“What a strange wish!”

Arlong lets his men laugh for a while, but eventually, he raises a hand, making them quiet down. 

“And why do you want my attention, pitiful little creature?” He smirks, “Maybe you plan to distract me while your fellow humans attempt to attack my men, is that it?”

“N-No sir, I would never!” You exclaim, “I-I just- well-“

Your stammering wears Arlong’s patience thin, “Out with it already.”

“I-I am entranced by you-“you confess, “A-And I- um-“ 

Your sentence trails off as he begins pacing around you in circles, his eyes never leaving you for a moment as if he were appraising you, which, in all fairness, he probably was. 

“So,” he takes some of your hair, allowing it to fall between his fingers as he assesses you closely, “You’re entranced by me, are you? A human that desires a fishman- now that is something I have never seen before…”

Arlong hums, and you squeal as he hooks a finger under your camisole straps, sliding it past your shoulder as if examining the skin underneath. But clearly, he wasn’t; he was just hoping to get into your head.

And it was working, but in a different way than he anticipated.

“For a human,” he starts, “you’re not terrible looking… I’d even say that you are somewhat attractive.”

“T-Thank you,” your voice quivers, “It’s such great praise to hear you say that, sir.”

“Tell me,” he’s behind you now, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “Do you fear me?”

“Y-Yes sir,” you choke out, “Very much-“

“And yet you are aroused by me. Your logical mind tells you to stay away from me, but you listen to your body instead. Humans are such foolish, primitive creatures.” He chuckles darkly before pulling away from your ear and pacing again so he’s in front of you, his dark eyes glued to your face.

Without taking his eyes off you, he speaks to his crew, “We’ll take this one back with us. I’ve always wanted a pet.”

He wickedly smiles at his words and motions for you to follow when he turns on his heels. You hear several fellow villagers sob when they see you leaving your house with the pirates. They must believe that you are about to be killed, and for all you know, their beliefs could be correct, but in your heart, you don’t believe Arlong will slaughter you.

You hope and pray that your instincts are correct.

The walk to Arlong Park isn’t long, and soon you’re in front of the towering structure. You’ve never seen it up close before, and the building’s intense aura washes over you; the once faraway symbol of your oppression was now directly suffocating you.

“Come,” Arlong orders, and you scurry to his side, “This will be your new place of residence. You will eat when I say so and sleep only where I allow.”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

He laughs, “Finally, a human that knows their place.”

He enters the pagoda, and you try to keep up, walking briskly to keep time with his long strides. Arlong leads you upstairs to a rather large bedroom, a bed built for a man of his stature sitting in the middle. 

He sits at the edge of the bed and beckons you to come close. You obey without question, standing before him, your hands placed timidly in front of you. 

“Remove your clothing,” he commands suddenly, “Make it quick.”

You scramble to remove your top and slide your shorts off your thighs, kicking them to the side. You’re left only in your underwear, your bra never touching your chest today. You hesitate momentarily when your fingers brush over your underwear’s waistband. 

“S-Sorry, I’m a bit nervous-“you confess, “No one’s ever seen me naked before-“

“I don’t care about your sentimentality. Although,” Arlong smirks, his eyes raking over your body, “the knowledge that I am the first to lay eyes on you is quite amusing...”

His tone’s clear hunger flusters you, and you slip your panties off, stepping out of them and tossing them aside with your other clothes.

He stands up, towering before you as he looks you over. Without warning, he roughly grabs one of your breasts, causing you to gasp.

“Your breasts barely fill my hand,” he scoffs, squeezing the flesh almost painfully tight, “but what else did I expect? Your body is so pitifully small.”

He huffs and releases you, kneeling before you to examine your exposed pussy. You’re about to cover it up, but Arlong beats you to the punch, using his webbed fingers to spread your lips instead. 

“But because you’re so small, I imagine you’ll feel much better around me.”

Your face burns with embarrassment yet anticipation as he slides a finger over your slit. You let out a soft gasp, jolting upright at the touch. He lets out a booming laugh.

“How sensitive!” He mocks you, “I barely graze you, and you jump like a scared cat!”

He removes his hand from your body and stands up, humming to himself, “Yes, I think I’ll make quite good use of you.”

That’s all he says before he walks past you, approaching the door. 

You stutter out, “I-Is that all?”

“For now, yes.” Looking over his shoulder, he simply states, “I have more important things that need my attention at the moment.”

And with that, he leaves, slamming the door shut behind him. 

You were now left alone in what you assumed were his personal quarters. 

And the reality of the situation finally sets in: you were taken as Arlong’s plaything. You would probably never get to go back to your regular life ever again. You had signed yourself, body and soul, over to him. 

The thought both terrified and excited you.

___

Days pass, and you slowly adjust to your situation, if only slightly. You don’t see Arlong often, and when you do, he barely acknowledges your presence. You figured the unspoken rule was that only Arlong could treat you poorly if desired and that anyone else injuring or degrading you would end in disaster. 

And while you enjoyed their kind treatment, you were still chasing after Arlong’s approval and attention.

You wanted him to want you, desire you, maybe even love you. You felt stupid for even falling for a man like him in the first place, and yet here you were, throwing yourself at his feet like a dog.

You sighed as you thought this over in your bed; life wasn’t terrible here, but you wished things could be different. You had your own room but wished you could sleep in his. He wasn’t abusing you, but you wished you had his praise.

The night drags on, and you lay awake in bed, the sounds of the fishmen drinking and laughing rising from outside to your window. You didn’t attend the party tonight, the smell of alcohol and loud conversations not sounding appealing to you today. 

You tried closing your eyes to get some rest, but you weren’t tired.

And your mind suddenly remembers that day.

You remember how he touched you the day he took you in, how he grabbed your breast. Your hand slides up to your chest, squeezing harshly to recreate the feeling. It’s not the same, but the sensation reminds you of that moment.

Your body grows excited at the memory.

You bite your lip as your other hand slips between your legs, teasingly sliding over your clothed slit. A moan bubbles up in your throat, and you don’t bother quieting yourself; everyone is outside at the party, so certainly, they wouldn’t hear you. 

You rub slow circles into your clit, your back arching slightly as pleasure runs through your body. 

Tired of the teasing, you pull your pajama shorts off your body, your underwear following soon behind, and spread your legs eagerly. As your fingers slide over your slit, you imagine Arlong above you, his fingers teasing your most intimate area. 

You slide a finger inside but quickly opt for two, trying to replicate how full his fingers would make you feel.

You finger yourself, curling your fingers upwards to stimulate your g-spot. Your mind goes crazy imagining the dirty things he would say to you, and you move your fingers even faster, mashing your sensitive spot the way you imagined he would. 

It doesn’t take long to cum, and you’re embarrassed when you realize the thought of him made you orgasm so quickly. 

You pull out your fingers, your cum coating them completely. You go to your personal bathroom and prepare to wash your hands and clean your slit.

But for some reason, you feel as though you’re being watched. 

You timidly walk back into your bedroom to check things out and jump as you see Arlong sliding open your bedroom door, inviting himself into your space. 

You scramble to cover your exposed lower half with still dirty hands, your cum smearing over your pubic mound as you shield yourself, “A-Arlong- sir! I didn’t know you were back-” 

“I heard you made yourself scarce,” Arlong hums in an uncharacteristically soft tone, “Everyone was asking about you.”

“About me?” You point to yourself in disbelief.

“Yes, but…” his eyes rake over you, “now I can see you were occupied…” 

You shake your head, “W-What? No-“

“Don’t deny it; I could smell the filthy scent of your arousal before I even entered the room.”

His words send a jolt down your spine. You look away in embarrassment, refusing to look him in the eyes.

Arlong smirks, approaching you slowly, his fingers finding their way around your chin and jerking your head upwards so you would look at him.

His voice lowers, his eyes boring into your soul, “And just what were you imagining that aroused you?”

You stutter, unable to answer him, but Arlong expected that you wouldn’t respond in the first place.

He takes your hand, lifting it up to see the mess you had made moments prior. You want to hide it, but fighting him would only test his patience.

His finger swipes over the cum that covers your digits, the webbed appendage collecting the fluid.

He lifts it up to your lips, demanding, “Open.”

You obey immediately, taking his fingers into your mouth. Your tongue slides against his skin, cleaning his digits as thoroughly as possible. 

“Disgusting human,” he smirks, “You’ll even lick your own cum off my fingers- absolutely revolting.”

Your face heats up at his insult, and despite his degrading words, you keep licking, sucking them clean. Hell, you keep sucking even when you know nothing is left on his fingers. And when he growls lowly, you can tell the sight affects him. 

“Disgusting human indeed,” he hums, looking down at you in disdain, “Look how you react to the mere taste of my fingers… Do you desire more of me now?” 

You nod eagerly, pulling his fingers from your mouth, “I-I want you more than anything. I’ve wanted you for so long-“

He growls at your words yet again and presses his body against yours; however, with his height, his crotch is pressed against your chest. 

“Desperate thing. You spend all night with your hands in your panties, yet you still crave more.” Arlong tsks, “But it’s no wonder; you were left with only those small fingers of yours. There’s no way something so small can satisfy anyone, not even a human.”

You whine as his words rile you up, your pussy aching for more stimulation, “N-No, I need something more… m-maybe something that only a man your size could provide...”

“Is that right…?” He chuckles a bit at your words.

Your tongue darts over your lips quickly as you reach for the waistband of his pants. He looks down at you with a glint in his eye and a smug grin. He isn’t stopping you; you take that as a good sign. 

And if that wasn’t convincing enough, he even says, “Go ahead, pitiful thing…”

You nod and pull his pants down along with his undergarments and gasp in shock. 

You weren’t exactly familiar with the differences between fishmen and human anatomy. Of course, you knew they had gills or lungs that were different from yours; they might have tentacles or webbed fingers or things of that nature, but.. you never thought that something like this would be different.

Your mouth gapes in surprise as you see not one but two appendages between his legs. They’re shaped differently than you anticipated, the shafts slender with a slight curve. After he steps out from the discarded garments, you curiously reach a hand out and grab it, testing how the lengthy appendage feels in your hands.

It’s warm, and you gasp when you see the precum dripping onto your hands; its consistency is watery, and it seems to come out like a faucet. You blush at how it effortlessly lubricates your hands, allowing you to stroke even faster. 

As you stroke the cock that is on top, you nearly forget the other shaft until it twitches excitedly, hitting your hand and smearing the cum over your wrist. You hurriedly grab the other cock, trying to stroke both simultaneously. 

“Ah, I can barely get my hands around them…” You laugh nervously, “They’re huge-”

Arlong gives a cocky, lop-sided smirk, looking down at you as you struggle to wrap your hands around his two shafts. 

“The sight of you struggling is pathetic, but…” You gasp as, in an instant, he grabs you, lifting you in the air, “I can’t deny some part of me finds it rather endearing as well.”

Your face lights up in a bright blush at the surprising praise. Your legs wrap around his waist as he sits on the bed, leaning back until his head hits the pillows. Your body is pressed against his, and you gasp as the slick appendages slide against your thigh.

“Go on and finish what you started,” He growls lowly in a seductive tone, “Prove to me just how badly you need me, and if you do well, I’ll reward you.”

You whimper as he takes your chin in hand, tilting your head so you look directly into his eyes, “Does that sound exciting, little one?”

Your heart stops at what sounds like a term of endearment. 

“Y-Yes-” You breathe out, almost in a trance, “Yes, I’ll earn that reward, sir. I’ll do my best.”

“Good,” He hums, “Remove your shirt. I wish to see all of you before we begin…”

You nod and grab the bottom of your shirt, lifting it over your head and off your body.

You leave little kisses in your wake as you crawl down his body. Each kiss shows reverence as you worship his body, your lips trailing from his chest to his stomach and finally to the base of his first cock. When you reach it, you gulp as you ponder how to approach this. You’ve never pleased a man before, and definitely not a man with not one large shaft but two. 

But you had to try.

You bite your lip as your hands attempt to wrap around both dicks at the same time. Now that your face is level with them, you realize they’re both larger than your head; you begin to wonder just how they’ll fit if Arlong decides to claim you. Will he be merciful and only fuck you with one?

You abandon the thought as quickly as it came; clearly, he wasn’t the merciful type.

You would have to be able to take both at once.

The idea terrifies and excites you.

Your grip is firm as you begin stroking them, glancing up at him with nervous eyes before your gaze flickers back to the task at hand. You moan softly as you watch his cocks jolt and throb under your touch, your pussy growing wet again as you imagine how they would feel stuffed inside you.

“Don’t keep me waiting,” He growls, but you’re surprised at how soft and affectionate it sounds. It almost sounds like a gentle suggestion instead of a command.

You nod and lean forward, taking one of the cocks into your mouth slowly. You take it a bit farther than you anticipated, but probably because of how tapered the tip is. You bob your head slowly, stroking the rest of the shaft with one hand while your hand continues coaxing precum out of the other.

Arlong hums in appreciation, and you melt when his hand pushes back your hair, encouraging you to keep going.

You switch to the other shaft, attempting to take as much down your throat as possible. 

In your overzealous attempt, you gag around his cock, and you grow embarrassed. You pull off instantly and begin profusely apologizing: “I-I’m sorry, sir! I-I really am just as disgusting as you say I-”

He cuts you off, “That’s bound to happen. Keep going until I order you to stop.”

Your eyes widen in surprise; was gagging like that normal? He didn’t seem put off by it at all…

You bite your lip before trying again, this time sucking on the cock that rests above the other. You try pacing yourself for your second deepthroating attempt; even though he wasn’t angry about the gagging sounds, you didn’t want to actually throw up around him.

You slowly bob your head, ensuring both hands are full of him, and begin hollowing your cheeks, attempting to make a tighter hole for his pleasure. You inevitably gag again as his cock hits the back of your throat, but soon enough, it gets easier, and you’re able to take him down even further. You hit the halfway point before deciding not to push your luck, determining this was your limit. Soon enough, you find a rhythm, bobbing your head for some time before pulling off his shaft, your tongue swirling around the tapered head to coax out more precum. Eventually, you switch back and forth between the two dicks, trying your best to give both an equal amount of attention.

As you please him, you can’t help but sneak glances at his face, ensuring he’s enjoying himself.

Each time you look at him, his brows are furrowed as his eyes are shut tight, quiet grunts escaping his throat. Your pussy throbs as he gets more vocal, and you can’t help but to whine around his shaft, voicing your frustrations as your holes feel terribly empty.

Your needy sounds don’t go unnoticed.

“Oh,” he coos, clearly belittling you, “It sounds like you’re growing antsy… Was there something you wanted, little human?”

You pull off his cock with your tongue lolling out of your mouth. You breathe heavily, your eyes pleading as you beg, “Please, sir. I need you in me-”

He gives a cocky smirk, “I’m already in your mouth, and yet you want more? You’re a greedy little thing…”

“Please, I’m begging,” You whine, “I need you inside me- Please, sir, fuck me-!”

He hums, his interest clearly piqued by your desperate begging, “And why do you deserve it, hm? What have you done to deserve such an honor?”

You part your lips to answer, but your mind goes blank.

“Go on,” He puts on the pressure, “Speak.”

You finally stutter, “I don’t deserve them, but I’ll do anything to earn them. I-I’ll swallow all your cum, I-I’ll let you use my body any way you like, just please- please fill me up and fuck me until I can’t think-”

Your face radiates warmth as you realize what you just said; you hadn’t meant to sound so desperate, but god, as your slick drips onto the bed under you, you can’t lie: you really will do anything for him to take you. 

Arlong makes an amused little sound; it seems your babbling has caught his interest.

You give one final push, “Please give me a purpose; please let me be useful to you, sir. I’m begging you to use my body- I want to please you- please, let me be a good girl for you-“

“Mm, what a good little human you are,” he hums, his tone patronizing as he looks down at you, “So eager to please… It would be a waste to not take advantage of your devotion and desperation…”

Your eyes light up, and your heart races, excited that he’s finally accepted you.

“Now…” He hums, “How should I take you…”

You shudder as his eyes rake over your body before he motions for you to sit on him. You straddle him and gasp when he holds your hips, his large hands encapsulating your waist. Your heart pounds as he lines one of his cocks up with your pussy, your juices dripping onto him. He laughs a bit when he feels the slick oozing onto him but doesn’t say anything, not about your arousal anyway.

“While I may be a demanding master, I am not heartless…” He says, rubbing the tip of one of his cocks against your entrance, “You’ll take just one first before I add the second…”

Your throat goes dry, but you nod, steadying yourself by planting your hands on his broad chest. 

You wince and hiss in pain when he begins to lower you onto his shaft. Even though it’s barely inside you, it already feels like it’s too much to bear. But you attempt to endure it and keep your pained sounds to a minimum, not wanting Arlong to get annoyed by your discomfort. 

Your thighs shake, and eventually, you feel his pelvis pressed against your mound. You whimper as you feel completely stuffed, your stomach bulging slightly as he finally sheathes himself within you. A shaky sigh leaves your lips as, for the first time, you’re filled by someone else.

You’re surprised when he doesn’t order you to move immediately, giving you a few moments to adjust.

It’s almost like he actually cares about you.

As you’re seated on top of him, his hands reach out to knead your breasts, his thumbs sliding over your hardened nipples. You whine shamelessly, rocking your hips back and forth as you grind your clit into his pelvis. 

“Look at you,” He chuckles, “Rubbing your needy clit against anything you can… I’m starting to think it’s not humans as a whole that are this desperate, but just you in particular.”

Your face burns in shame as he calls out your slutty behavior, but that doesn’t stop you. In fact, it only encourages you to begin riding him, sliding maybe an inch or so upwards before slowly sinking back down. You try to move slowly and carefully as you’re stretched beyond your limits, the pain still stinging as you begin fucking yourself.

And after some time, you release that it actually feels really good-

Your mouth hangs open as you take him with deeper strokes, your hips lifting up to the halfway point before slamming down. Your loud moans and whines fill the room as you fuck him, his cock hitting all the right spots. You begin to drool as his cock slams against your cervix, making your legs feel weak. You start to melt atop him, your thrusts growing sporadic and sloppy.

Arlong tsks as he watches you fall apart, your face nuzzled in his chest as you pathetically grind and frantically slam your hips against his.

“Is this really your best effort?” He teases, “I thought you said you would please me… and yet here you are, only using me for your pleasure. How selfish, little human…”

“I-I’m sorry, sir. I promise I can be useful-” You begin to babble, “I can be a good girl- I can take whatever you give me- fuck me- please- use me-”

Arlong clicks his tongue before gripping your waist and slamming into you on his own. You gasp sharply as he hits your furthest walls and begins his relentless assault.

“You are so pathetic,” He growls, “I’ll just have to fuck into you myself as if you were an object.”

And he does precisely that, his thrusts from below causing your body to jolt and jostle above him. You feel your brain go numb, every thought you could possibly have leaving your head. Your body works purely on instinct, grabbing his shoulders as your face rests on his chest, your drool beginning to leak onto his skin. The sounds of skin smacking against itself fills the room, along with wet squelches. 

“I’m so close-” You say dumbly, “Please, let me cum! Please-!”

“Good girl, asking for permission,” He grunts, “Go ahead.”

Your legs shake violently, and your back aches as your cunt squeezes him tight, attempting to milk him. But he doesn’t climax, not yet; You’re the only one reaching that beautiful high, your voice growing raspy as you cry out for him. Your nails dig into his chest and shoulders as you try to grip onto something, anything, to keep you grounded. You feel as though your soul is floating out of your body.

It’s the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had in your life, without a doubt.

As you’re left panting, attempting to recover from the intense experience, Arlong laughs at you; but to your surprise, it’s not malicious. He seems genuinely amused, even proud, at how he caused such a reaction from you.

“Look at you…” He hums, his hands raking over your body, his palms running over your hips and chest before reaching your cheeks, “You’re exhausted, and I’ve hardly begun using you…”

Your body feels limp as he lifts you up, attempting to place you on your hands and knees before him. But you can’t do it; your knees wobble, and your thighs shake as a warning before you fall forward, falling flat on your face. You try to lift yourself up, but even your arms feel boneless.

Arlong lets out an amused sound, “It seems you can no longer hold yourself up… It looks like I will have to support you myself…”

You let out a drawn-out groan as Arlong picks you up like a doll, flipping you around and holding you close to him as he stands beside the bed. Your legs dangle as your thighs are pressed to his sides, one of his shafts poking against your sopping wet entrance.

“I let you off easy earlier,” He whispers, “But you’ve proven that you can handle one, so now you will take both…. I expect that you won’t complain.”

You nodded your head; while you were exhausted, you were also more than eager to cum again. Though, as you feel them both press against your hole, a feeling of uncertainty pokes and prods at you.

But you ignore it.

Arlong is able to lift your body with one hand, balancing you in his palm as if you are weightless. With his other hand, he takes both shafts, lining them up before pressing them both inside. 

At first, it isn’t difficult to accept them both; his dicks are tapered at the top, meaning the initial stretch isn’t too bad. But then he keeps pulling you down, inch by inch, penetrating you. You grit your teeth as the feeling nearly feels unbearable, your hole clinging to his shafts as you are stretched more than ever. 

You throw your arms around his neck and bury your face into his shoulder, biting your lip as you whine. 

Your sounds grow louder as he lifts your hips, guiding you up and down on his cocks. He thrusts into you fast, not giving you time to adjust the way you did before. You feel as though you could split in two, but there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

You moan desperately into his shoulder, babbling and whining as you’re tossed around like an object. The whole ordeal is so humiliating, but you can’t deny that you are enjoying it all the same.

“I knew you were greedy,” He grunts, “But this is ridiculous; You’re stuffed full, and all you can do is whine and beg for more. You are the most shameless human I’ve ever known.”

Your lip quivers as you try to form words, but your vocal cords fail you; all you can do is whine and moan, clinging tight to his body. 

He laughs at your desperation, “Though, it’ll be nice to have a toy so eager to be used. I’ll keep you for quite a while, I imagine..”

He continues his fast and harsh pace, bringing you closer and closer to the edge once more. Your legs quiver, and your body grows terribly hot, sweat building on your skin. You hold your breath as you ready yourself for your climax, the lack of oxygen making your head dizzy. And, in your dazed state, you lift your head and smash your lips against his. 

And, to your surprise, he actually kisses you back.

With your lips pressed against his and your fingers tangled in his thick, dark hair, you finally release.

He grunts loudly into your lips, and with one final forceful thrust, you feel your insides flood with warmth. His hips slow, and with your cavern too stuffed for anything else to fit, his cum begins to dribble out of you. 

Your lips part, and you stutter, “I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to kiss you without your permission!”

He only rolls his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips, “And yet I feel as though you’re only apologizing because you did so without permission, not because you’re actually sorry.”

You avert your eyes, and you feel yourself slowly lowered onto the bed, your back caressed by the soft sheets. 

“I will say,” He begins, “I enjoyed your sudden display of boldness; it just shows how excited you were in the moment… I will allow it for now.”

Your eyes widen at his pardon, and you nod slowly, “Thank you, sir.”

“Now, rest easy, little human.” He says quietly, stepping back once you rest entirely on the bed.

“Wait,” You interject, propping yourself on your elbows, “You’re leaving?”

He laughs as if dismissing you, “Were you expecting me to stay with you?”

Your heart feels a pang of pain, and you visibly deflate, clearly disappointed. Of course, this entire thing meant nothing to him, and while you should’ve expected this, it didn’t make it hurt any less. Your eyes trail off, looking down at the edge of the bed as you fill with this indescribable loneliness. 

His eyes linger on you for a moment and you can’t help but look up at him, trying to discern why he hasn’t abandoned you yet.

“Most masters don’t sleep in the same beds as their pets. But…” he hums, “I suppose for humans, it is a fairly common occurrence…”

You perk up at his words. 

Is he saying what you think he is…?

“I will allow it just this once,” He insists, “But never again, do you understand?”

And that’s good enough for you because you knew owners who insisted on such things never kept their word.

[ofallthingsnasty]

pairing: arlong x f!reader tags: darkfic, noncon, facefucking, throatpie, fat reader, dead dove: do not eat, minors dni, one dick arlong word count: 1.4k

prompt: “You think your father would still love you if he knew.” from this list, it just screamed Arlong. Feel free to send a character and a prompt from that list, if you want! Enjoy.

Arlong can be almost sweet behind closed doors, especially when you kneel in front of him, with his cock deep down your throat.

Webbed fingers caress the top of your head, a sign that you’re doing your job well. If you didn’t, he’d make sure to show you - and the countless times he slapped your face with either his dick or an open hand have made you keenly aware of what is to his liking and what isn’t. You lean into his touch and ease him deeper into you, making sure to flutter your eyes at his own. Nothing but a malicious smile greets you, sharp teeth glinting in the light. Arlong loves seeing your absolutely ruined face - the more spit and tears and debauchery, the better. Sometimes he has you apply makeup only to watch it spill over your skin, creams and powders smeared by sheer force and your mixed bodily fluids.

There is nothing of that on your face today, yet he seems satisfied with your efforts, that small spark of amusement that you’ve come to chase dancing in his eyes. It’s the only thing saving you from another night as his footstool or, even worse, from having to serve alcohol to his crew. Simply keeping your throat relaxed, spilling some tears and fighting the urge to puke all over his sandals is a million times better than kicks or sleeping on the floor. Even if it means having to endure one of his other quirks - the eternal monologues. He likes to hear himself talk. As if on cue, Arlong sighs and leans back when you gag up another wad of saliva around his cock, taking one hand from your head to scratch his neck leisurely. 

“Smart woman”, he says and sounds utterly pleased with himself. You try to steel yourself for another round of escalating insults. “You saw how much better we are than you and immediately knew to submit.” Ah, his favorite topic. He never fucks you without mentioning how inferior you are to him, never fucks you without talking himself into a frenzy about it. His asinine ramblings are just as much a part of defiling you as is treating you like a flesh toy and they leave you with hot ears and teary eyes every time. He knows how to twist his words just enough to make them hurt, no matter how often he re-uses his insults, recycles his phrases - they just find a way to worm themselves into your brain. “I wish all humans were as perceptive as you, really.”

You don’t acknowledge him as you focus on softening your throat and catching breaths where you can. If you lose your pace now, get slower or don’t take him as deep, that terrifying hand is sure to remind you, even if he appears to be preoccupied with his talking. It’s all an act. A part of the same old dance and song. 

“Such an obedient little whore”, he sighs above you, then he chuckles to himself. “Well, not so little, hm?”

You’re too focused on breathing to let that comment bother you - his crew is worse, groping and whistling at you whenever they catch a glimpse of you, beckoning you over, daring you to sit on their laps until your ass spills over. You’ve long since lost your name, being called their little cow instead.

“But that’s alright, that’s why I like you. Don’t break so easily, do you?” Giant hands clasp the sides of your head until you feel like your temples are about to pop. Maybe your brains will simply burst out like the flesh of an overly ripe watermelon one of these days and it will all be over. Who knows with this tyrant; who knows if you’ll even see tomorrow? It’s such a bleak thought, but this is your existence now. Had been your fate ever since you came up short for the ridiculous taxes Arlong ordered from your people - in a way, you should be grateful that he didn’t shoot you in front of your village and most importantly, your poor, old father. Better this and a waning sliver of hope than a headstone, you figure. “Hold still, sow”, he breathes out, just the tiniest bit labored. Good, you think, entirely numb and obey. It means he’s close and you’ll probably be done for the day in a matter of minutes. Maybe you’ll even be allowed a shower later. 

It’s not necessarily easier when he moves instead of you - because he doesn’t just fuck your face, he brutalizes it. It might be just a bit less exhausting for the muscles of your neck and shoulders, but the way he crams himself as deep as possible while setting a pace faster you could ever bop your head has you counting every second, clinging onto consciousness with wide eyes and snot bubbling out of your nose. The sounds are obscene. Between the gurgling and glugging of your throat and the sharp slapping of his balls as they hit your chin with a heft you’ll feel for the rest of the night, you feel more like an animal than ever. He never holds back, no matter how many times he insists that you’re considerably weaker than him, how delicate you are despite your softness. You are simply cattle to him, something he owns and does with as he pleases. And you better take it.

“You think your father would still love you if he knew? Old man is probably sitting at home, twiddling his thumbs while I fuck his precious daughter’s mouth and defile her cow tits”, he rasps out eyes boring into yours. Arlong always gets the nastiest when he’s chasing his orgasm and mentioning your father is just as vile as it gets. You gag around him but don’t look away, not even as the picture of your dad doing just that springs into your head.“Or maybe he realizes that this is for the best? That this is the place you belong?”

Arlong tips his head back and delivers a particularly brutal thrust to your face. Your hand flies up to at least give yourself the illusion of purchase but it gets shaken off his rapidly moving thigh. The only thing that isn’t being rattled is your skull, still framed by his hands.

“Underneath me, used by me, like the despicable sow you are. Maybe I’ll fuck some little bastards into you one day. You like the thought of that, do you? You live to serve, don’t you?” 

He wheezes that last sentence out, the thought clearly arousing to him. It’s one of his favorites - claiming every last part of you, your womb included. And with the way he keeps fucking you almost every day, it won’t be too long until it becomes reality. “I should fill you up so full you can barely walk and then parade you into town. Show peepaw his grandkids. Maybe I’ll let them play with him when they’re old enough. See if he survives.”

It’s too much. The sheer force, the lack of air, the fluids running out of every orifice, but worst of all, the way he keeps talking about your father. The face you make must be ugly and desperate because he simply laughs, full-bellied and nasty. It’s all he needs to take him over the edge. Arlong crushes your nose against his coarse pubes, against his stomach as he groans. Not even a second passes and his cock is moving in your throat, filling you with loads of hot, terribly slimy cum. It feels as though he’s directly in your stomach, even though that is entirely impossible. It takes everything in you not to struggle away from the iron grip on your head, even as your esophagus starts to jolt and as another wave of tears spills over. He basks in the moment above you, jaw slack and eyes closed for once - only when you can’t help the ugly sobs that are building up between the bouts gagging, he finally pulls out. A disgusting mix of saliva, mucus and semen follows in an amount that can only be described as ungodly. Arlong laughs at the way you retch it all out, a little breathless, but still not done with you. In the very last act of domination, he uses his softening cock to spread the abysmal-smelling fluids all over your face and hair as you can only cry, entirely without shame. He loves that, too.

And it’s the only time you’ll ever hear him utter something akin to tender. “Good girl.”

Really, Arlong can be almost sweet behind closed doors. Almost.

[hannahbarberra162]

Double It (Crocodile x Reader, NON CON, dead dove, one shot)

18+ MDNI | On Ao3 | other one shots

TW: NON CON

Part of my "1 Million Words Posted" event. Post 1 / ???

“What is on the desk before you?” Sir Crocodile finally drawled, smoke billowing out of his mouth. You shifted from foot to foot, unsure how to answer his question in a way that would allow you to escape with your head attached to your neck. You’d never been in Sir Crocodile’s direct presence in the three months you’d been working at Rain Dinners -- and you had wanted to keep it that way. Except today Mr. Bones had been waiting for you as you clocked in for your shift as a cocktail waitress, taking you directly to Sir Crocodile’s luxurious office. 

Mr. Bones pushed you to stand in front of Sir Crocodile’s large dark wood desk, empty of papers save for two bills on it. You stood there in silence, fidgeting as Sir Crocodile raked his eyes over your form. It was silent except for the sound of him flicking the ash of his cigar into a half filled ashtray in the shape of bananawani jaws. The tiny cocktail waitress uniform felt even more revealing than usual under his gaze, making you want to pull the skirt down further. You remained in place, Sir Crocodile waiting for you to speak. 

“Two 500 Berri bills,” you said, unable to meet his gaze as you fought the urge to run out the door. You picked at your nails as you said it, hoping for the best. Your gut told you to prepare for the worst.

“And what do you notice about them?” he continued, his voice even deeper than you’d expected. You bit your lip as you looked at the bills, already knowing what the answer was.

“They look the same,” you said in a near whisper. Sir Crocodile stood up from his overstuffed office chair, his golden hook gleaming in the low light. Circling around to the front of his desk, Sir Crocodile towered over you before sitting on the edge. It felt like he was toying with you, much like a cat would before devouring a mouse whole.

“They don’t look the same. They are the same. In fact, they are identical,” he said, putting down his cigar. His flesh hand was drumming against the wood, like a cat’s tail flicking in interest. You wanted to try and suss out how much he had figured out but didn’t want to reveal your hand if you didn’t have to. You nodded.

“And how did you come to have two identical bills in your till at the end of the night?” he asked, his eyes dipping to the low neckline of the uniform before flicking back to your face.

“I don’t-” before the next word came out of your mouth, the tip of his golden hook was pressed to the underside of your chin in warning. He used the sharp tip to nudge your chin up further to finally look at his eyes, though he hadn’t pierced your skin.

“Don’t lie. I do not tolerate liars,” he growled, pressing his hook a touch harder into your chin, the skin still unbroken. You swallowed, your breath coming in short pants. He hummed with amusement before removing his hook from your neck and standing up, bringing his cigar back to his mouth. 

“It’s interesting. You see, I’ve had a problem for months now. Someone’s been counterfeiting money using my casino as a front,” Sir Crocodile explained, walking around you in a slow circle. 

“The methods used to cover the operation were clever, discreet. Never large bills, never more than a few a night, always spread among different waiters and the floor. It took me a while to determine what exactly was happening. Or rather, who,” Crocodile said, blowing smoke in your direction. You kept staring straight ahead, your spine straight as he detailed your downfall. 

“At first I suspected a rival casino or perhaps a pirate crew. Maybe even the Marines. Imagine my surprise when I finally discover the source of my frustration is a slip of a cocktail waitress in my own employ. As far as I could discover, you are not in leagues with anyone else. A free agent undermining my operations for your own gain,” Crocodile said, now standing immediately behind you. You felt the heat coming off his body, making you shudder with his nearness.

“And now I want to know why.” Crocodile brought his hook around your neck, the cold metal like a noose. Your breath hitched in surprise as he pulled you a step back, your back now flush against his muscled body. You stood no chance of making it out of the office alive, you thought, so you might as well tell him everything. He didn’t remove his hook from your neck as you took in a deep breath, the scent of his amber musk hitting your nose as you began explaining. 

“I - I’m not trying to undermine you, Sir. I didn’t - I don’t - I- I have a rare devil fruit, Sir,” not sure where to begin explaining why you ended up working in Alabasta for Sir Crocodile’s casino.

“Continue,” Crocodile said indulgently, like he was doing you a favor.

“It’s - I-” you stammered as you exhaled a shaky breath. You’d never told anyone about your devil fruit power, too afraid that you’d end up in a situation exactly like this. “I ate the copy-copy fruit. It allows me to duplicate anything non-sentient that I can hold in my left hand. When I use my power I can produce an identical copy in my right,” you explained, your breath fogging the gleaming gold in front of your face. Sir Crocodile hummed, his flesh hand coming to rest on the top of your head like you would a pet. If he moved in any direction, he could end your life, you thought with a gulp.

“That explains how, but not why,” he continued, his fingers grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head back. Now you were looking up at his face, his hook at your neck, and his now hard erection pressed into your back.

“I just…I needed more money. I - I’m from Dressrosa,” you began your explanation, twining your fingers together to keep your hands from shaking. You felt like the air had been sucked out of the room, everything suddenly cold in Crocodile’s presence. 

“I see. Well you can tell Doflamingo that his little ruse has been discovered. Or rather, I’ll send him your head,” Sir Crocodile’s voice was clipped with anger and you felt particles of sand begin to swirl around your feet. The hook against your neck seemed to practically vibrate with bloodlust and the hand in your hair tightened until you whimpered. You were unable to look away from Sir Crocodile as his teeth gnashed the cigar in his mouth.

“N-no - please! It’s not what you think! I - I don’t work for anyone, not the King,” you pleaded, hoping he’d believe your words before he killed you. “I ran away from there. He- the King, he requires anyone with a devil fruit to register with the palace. Anyone with a useful fruit doesn’t come back. I didn’t - I tried to keep it secret, but I think someone reported me to his officers. There’s a reward for turning in devil fruit users. I fled before I was taken,” you explained quickly as Sir Crocodile’s eyes bored into your own. He tilted his head to the side as if in consideration.

“So why here?” he asked, a hint of interest in his voice.

“I thought - the King is one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea. I wouldn’t be safe with the Marines, they’d just return me to him. I didn’t want to work for a pirate crew and I didn’t want to be discovered by Celestial Dragons. I thought that the safest place would be in the territory of another Warlord, that the King wouldn’t be able to directly interfere. I didn’t want to stay here, I just needed to amass a little more money. I can’t m-move jewels or gold without suspicion and it’s hard to stock up money quickly. I promise I wasn’t going to stay here and counterfeit for much longer,” you explained. Crocodile’s hand loosened in your hair as he played with the ends. His hook hadn’t moved.

“I couldn’t go to Fishman Island, can’t get to Amazon Lily, Dracule Mihawk and Bartholomew Kuma have no territory.”

“And what of Gecko Moria?”

“There is not much information and I was hesitant. I felt your domain was more stable, that I’d be able to – that I could make a life here. At least for a few months,” you finished as the dull section of his hook pressed harder into your neck. 

Why you thought you could outsmart Crocodile and duplicate money at his own casino you didn’t know. Duplicating money was trickier than people assumed, you couldn’t float too much or the banks would catch on. You couldn’t have too much either, otherwise it would attract attention to yourself. It was a delicate balance of duplicating smaller bills while exchanging them for real ones. Unfortunately, it turned out Crocodile kept immaculate records and the casino wasn’t as safe as it appeared despite the cash flowing in and out.

Warm sand was piling up at your feet and getting into the high heels that were part of the uniform but you didn’t dare move. The only sound in the room was your harsh breathing and the soft sound of sand piling up at your feet. After a few minutes of silence, Crocodile removed his hook and walked back to his desk in thought, making you want to sag in relief. He was still watching you with his unwavering gaze, your ordeal wasn’t over yet. Sinking back down into his chair Crocodile took out a kerchief and began polishing his hook.

“Show me,” he intoned, using sand to remove one of his hefty rings from his index finger. Your knees nearly buckled as you stumbled over the sand to go to his desk. He dropped the ruby ring into your open left palm and watched you expectantly. As desired, you held out both your hands, squeezing the ring in your left hand. A moment later a flash of light went off and an exact copy appeared in your right. You handed them both to Crocodile, your fingertips grazing his warm palm and you handed them back. He inspected the duplicate closely for a moment before his grin widened. You had a sinking suspicion you wouldn’t be leaving Alabasta any time soon.

“I’m not in the habit of leaving problems unsolved,” he said, stubbing out his cigar in the ashtray. He beckoned to you with one finger. You pressed your lips together, unable to quell the small whimper that left your mouth. Taking the few remaining steps to his chair felt like walking to the gallows. This was it, you were done for. A tear tracked down your face as you stood in front of Crocodile, hoping your demise would at least be swift. 

“I’m also not one to pass on opportunities as they present themselves,” he continued, steepling his fingers against his hook. “I’ve been watching you for a while now, you’re a clever little thing. Clever enough to fool me for a short while. Clever enough to save your life,” he said, patting his lap. Your eyebrows hitched together in confusion – did he really want–

“Your life was forfeit the moment you passed off counterfeit money in my casino. Be grateful I am allowing you the opportunity to serve me. Unless you'd rather I kill you,” he said with a shrug of a shoulder, like either option was equally as passable for him. You shook your head furiously and perched yourself on his massive lap, your eyes drawn to the gold chain around his burly neck. He drew his hook up to your cheek, making you flinch back. Crocodile grabbed your jaw in his hand and rubbed the cool metal down the side of your face, the urge to flee returning to you in spades.

“You work for me now. You do what I say, when I say to do it. Understood?” he said quietly into your ear, his breath warm on your neck. You nodded but Crocodile’s grip on your face only tightened. 

“Say it.”

“I work for you now,” you whispered. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you sat on the lap of a Warlord like a docile pet. He let go of your jaw and patted your cheek forcefully, enough that it turned your face.

“I’m pleased we’ve reached an understanding,” Crocodile said as he set you gently on your feet.

“Strip,” he commanded as he opened the humidor on his desk to select another cigar. Putting it into his mouth, he gave you a “come along” gesture, as if waiting for a show. With shaking hands you reached behind your neck to unzip the flimsy uniform, allowing it to pool at your feet. You weren’t in anything fancy underneath, just a cotton bra and panties meant for a comfortable shift at work. You shivered as the cool air hit your skin, your arm unconsciously coming up to cover yourself fully.

“Don’t make me ask again,” Crocodile intoned, now lighting his cigar. You unclapsed your bra and slid the straps off your arms, letting it fall to the ground. You grabbed the elastic of your panties with trembling fingers and pushed them down to your feet. He’d said strip, so you reached down to unbuckle the uniform high heels when he stopped you. 

“Those stay on. Come here,” he said, beckoning you to the right side of his desk. You walked on wobbly legs to his side, sure you were about to experience something from your nightmares. You couldn’t contain your tremors as his hand reached for you, looking away from what was surely to come. Surely he was going to ravage you, to make you sorry you’d ever come to this sandy shithole…

What you didn’t expect was for Crocodile to put his hand behind your neck and guide you until you were bent over his desk, your torso pressed against the cool wood. He trailed his fingers up and down your spine a few times, your skin prickling in the wake of his large hand. He put his hand on the middle of your back and kept it there, drawing small circles with his fingertips.

“You can prove your worth to me by starting at the bottom rung of the ladder. As furniture,” he drawled, fingers lazily dancing up your spine. You tensed and shifted your weight but stopped as his large hand pressed you against the wood grain of the desk. His large, warm hand spanned nearly the entirety of your back, his fingers curling over your side.

“Relax. You’ll be there for a while,” he said with a puff of his cigar. Crocodile picked up the top paper off the stack to his right and began reading. That was…that was it? You were going to be bent over his desk while he worked?

“I don’t-” 

“Desks don’t talk,” Crocodile said mildly, tapping his hook on the middle of your back. Your mouth snapped shut. If this is what Sir Crocodile wanted, you could provide it. After all, this wasn’t so bad. 

At first. 

Because every so often, you felt a long, slow stroke up your naked cunt. Crocodile wasn’t playing with you, not exactly. He would run a fingertip slowly up and down your slit, making sure to avoid your clit the entire time. Or he would absently stroke the very inner part of your thigh, where it met your leg, while he read some document or other. Worst was when he would intermittently press the pad of his thumb against your hole, prodding gently but never entering you. You knew you were getting wet by the slow drip of your fluids down your legs, but you didn’t dare move from your position. Your breath came fast when he gave you attention but he always pulled away before you got too close to the edge.

It was an endless tease, punctuated by billowing smoke and annoyed sighs as Crocodile’s hand left your skin to pick up a pen. Occasionally he would run a finger through your cunt and use it to quickly flip through his papers, the lewd act making you flush as he conducted his business in silence. 

“Copy,” Crocodile intoned at some point in the late afternoon, placing a piece of paper in your left hand. You blinked and did as he said, the duplicate appearing in your right hand moments later. Crocodile took both of the copies and reviewed them without another word to you, though a wide smile and a pat to your head told you he approved of your work.

Not only were you reduced to sentient furniture,, but it was humiliating being naked as Crocodile conducted his business for the day. Everyone who came in got a full view of you bent over Crocodile’s desk, including other casino workers you knew from the floor. 

If anyone had something to say about you splayed over Crocodile’s desk, they didn’t say a word. You even saw the white high top boots of Miss All Sunday as she came into Crocodile’s office. Just like with everyone else, you’d steadfastly kept your gaze averted to the floor, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone.

“Quite the show,” she’d said, her voice dripping with amusement.

“She was the counterfeiter,” Crocodile said as he continued to flip through papers. 

“Oh? Just this little one?” Miss All Sunday said as you felt two hands brushing against the insides of your thighs. 

“Mmh. Works for me now,” Crocodile hummed, not taking the opportunity to explain anything further. You tensed your muscles and tried to move your legs closer together but found them immobilized by dozens of hands suddenly sprouting from the table. You nearly picked up your head from nervousness, remembering you were a table only seconds before disobeying Crocodile. 

“Calm,” he ordered, stroking the top of your ass with one thick finger. You wished you could stop those soft hands from touching you, but you were now well and truly stuck. Crocodile surely saw what was happening as he sat in his chair with you on the right side of his desk. The fingers inched their way to your sopping folds, stroking and teasing all the while. You bit your lip in preparation for their intrusion but felt only the warm large hand of Crocodile covering your core. 

“No,” was all Crocodile said, pushing the fingers away from you. Miss All Sunday laughed, a low tinkling sound, before she stood up from her chair. A hand sprouted in front of you, grabbing a cup of water off Crocodile’s desk. It delicately held the glass to your lips, allowing you to drink. You were thirsty from being there for so long but you tugged your head away from the glass. You’d only be doing expressly what Crocodile told you and nothing more. 

“She’s practically training herself. She’s waiting for your word,” Miss All Sunday purred, her crossed arms pushing up her already ample bosom. Another hand appeared and grabbed your jaw, immobilizing you from moving any further away. 

“Good girl. You may,” Crocodile said with a grunt, patting your ass like you were a pet. You drank from the crystal glass, the water running down your mouth as the fingers swirled delicate patterns into the sensitive skin of your thighs. The cup was placed on the table after you finished, the hands poofing into petals seconds later. 

“Alright, I’ll leave you to your fun. Your meetings are done for the day,” she murmured as she sashayed from the room. You felt little flower petals landing on your skin as the hands disappeared, leaving you alone with Crocodile once again. 

Over the course of the long afternoon, Crocodile continued working and ignoring your presence. At times, the only sound was the clock ticking in the corner and your own breath as he read and notated, humphing with displeasure at various line items. He had also continued to tease you, going farther than he had before his afternoon meetings. It felt like Crocodile’s fingers never left you, always pressing, stroking, and petting you. 

Once, Crocodile had decided to rub the slowest possible circles on your clit, his hand practically dripping with your slick every time he pulled it back to rifle through more papers. He was setting an impossibly slow rhythm, his fingers moving to some unnamed tune as he drove you to madness. 

Despite the lazy tempo, you felt the band in your lower belly tightening against your will. You wanted to rock back against his hand, grind to find some measure of relief but you held yourself still. Crocodile hadn’t given you an express order, but you didn’t need one to know that he didn’t want you coming without permission. You whimpered as he rubbed your clit between two of his thick fingers, the metal of his rings against your slick folds.

“Desks don’t make noise. I warned you once already,” he’d chided, pulling his hand away. You could have groaned from frustration, but bit your lips to keep from making any more noise. A few moments later, the cool metal of the flat of his hook ran up and down your spine. Goosebumps appeared where it had been, the late evening air chilling you even further. You heard the tinkling of metal behind you but you didn’t dare look back. 

Looking out the window, you saw the moon rising in the sky. Normally you’d be working the floor already, counterfeiting whatever small bills you could and mixing it in with your tips.Clearly that wasn’t in the plans for you tonight. After straightening a final stack of papers, Crocodile stood up from behind you and stretched. He pressed his hand down between your shoulder blades as he walked to the front of the desk, keeping you pinned.

“You did well as my desk,” Crocodile drawled, his fingertip running up your neck. You shivered, but didn’t reply. 

“Copy,” Crocodile demanded. You held out your left hand and Crocodile pooled his thick golden necklace into it. Immediately you created a copy in your right, holding the hand aloft. Crocodile picked up both, setting one on the table.

“You’ve been promoted,” Crocodile continued, as he handed you the other. Understanding what he wanted, you fastened the necklace around your neck, the warm metal heavy against your skin. Your head was picked off the desk as Crocodile slid his hook into the loose links, tugging your face upwards to look at his own. 

“Instead of being my desk, you are now my pet,” he said, a wicked gleam in his eyes. You were no fool, the necklace was a method of claiming you. Now you wore a golden necklace an exact match of his own, your collar secured by your own hand.

“And what do pets do?” he asked. You licked your lips as his flesh hand squeezed your cheeks. Much like a pet, you were unsure what to do with an inconsistent prompt – you didn’t think you could talk with him squeezing your mouth and you weren’t sure what the correct answer would be. Luckily, Crocodile didn’t seem to mind filling the gap for you.

“They obey their Master,” he replied. He removed his hook, allowing your head to drop back down on his desk. 

“So long as you obey me, you’ll have a wonderful life as my indolent little copy machine. And I have plenty of ideas on how to pass the time together,” he said, the heels of his shoes clacking on the cold tile of the floor as he walked back behind you. 

“Does that suit you?” he asked, his fingers stroking your skin once more.

“Yes, Sir,” you replied, your voice creaky from so many hours without use.

“Good, because you have a lot of work ahead of you,” he said, the dull metal of his hook running through your folds. “You’ve been soaking my desk,” Crocodile commented, his hook now pressed against your clit. You tried not to squirm and settled on shifting your weight from one side to another. 

“I know, I know. It’s been a long afternoon for us both,” Crocodile murmured with fake sincerity in his tone. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. As long as you’re mine, you’ll be safe,” he said as he leaned over you, covering your nude body with his own. His words were shallow comfort – you had no doubt you’d be dead before you could betray him again. You tensed as his warm chest brushed against your back, unsure what he would do. Crocodile pushed his fingers into your hair, tugging your head to the side. He placed a singular kiss over your carotid artery before disengaging his hands and standing back up.

You heard the sound of rustling fabric before something long, warm and hard smacked gently against your lower back. You couldn’t resist the urge – you looked backwards at Crocodile’s hard cock, your mind trying to imagine how it would fit inside you. You didn’t have to wonder for long as Crocodile picked it up and lined himself up with your hole, his foot kicking your legs wider apart. 

“You can take it. You’ve been waiting for it all day,” he said, his tip pressing against you. You took a deep breath as he pushed forward into you, your fingers gripping the edge of his desk tightly. His cock was massive, impaling you as he slowly pressed into you. The stretch was too intense, too much, too soon, but Crocodile wasn’t asking. 

“Breathe,” he ordered softly as he kept pushing forward. He stalled for a moment for you to take a shuddering breath before continuing to hilt himself within you. After a moment, he began again, until the front of his thighs met the back of your own. You felt his brocade vest on your back as Crocodile began shallowly pumping within you. You doubted it was kindness, but you appreciated him not wrecking you completely.

Crocodile fucked you much like he had toyed with you that afternoon, with a casual laziness that belied his own interest. He set a slow pace, pulling out nearly all the way before pushing himself back in. He placed his hook underneath you, giving you nearly enough friction against your clit as he pounded into you from behind. Tears were on your lashline with frustration, but you weren’t going to argue with the man who had your life in his hands. Your harsh breaths filled the room as Crocodile picked up the pace, his hips snapping against you. 

“Put your knee on the nnnh desk,” Crocodile ordered, pushing your leg up. Once you did as he ordered, the new position had him going even deeper within you. You couldn’t help yourself, you moaned loud and low as his cock filled you to the brim. Your core tightened around his length as he gripped your ass, pulling you down onto him as he fucked into you. 

Sweat dripped down your chest as the band in your stomach wound tighter and tighter. You bit down on your lip as Crocodile worked himself in and out of you, his grunts growing louder as he came close to orgasm. His fingers gripped you so tightly you knew you’d be bruised as he came deep inside you, his warm come dripping out of you. You were close yourself, so close, if he just kept himself inside and if he kept his hook right there and if…so close…

“Ah, ah. Your betrayal is fresh in my mind. Pets have to perform to be rewarded,” Crocodile sneered, pulling out of your spasming cunt and removing his hook. Your chest was heaving as the orgasm slipped away from you, your body hot with unreleased tension. For as much as you wanted to protest, you merely sagged against his desk, allowing yourself to catch your breath. You felt his eyes on you as he used his fingers to push his leaking come back into your sopping core. Your pussy pulsed around his fingers as he pushed them inside, but Crocodile merely laughed. Crocodile then wiped himself with a handkerchief but made no move to clean you up in any way.

“Let’s go. I want you to make your appearance at the Casino in your new role,” he said, helping pull you to standing. You felt exposed, not only because of your nudity but also because of your combined fluids dripping down your thighs. It almost felt like a branding you wouldn’t be able to remove, no matter how clean you got. Crocodile opened his humidor and selected another cigar, lighting it with practiced ease. A billowing cloud of smoke obscured his face as his hand rested on the back of your neck.

“May I please wear my uniform?” you asked timidly, looking at your clothes pooled on the floor. Crocodile scoffed, ashing his cigar into the Bananawani jaws.

“Of course not. You’re done with those cheap rags. You may don this,” he said, draping his large green coat over your slimmer shoulders. Your shaking fingers gripped the edges, pulling it closed over your naked body. Crocodile tipped your jaw upwards, kissing you deeply on the lips before pulling away. 

“This way no one will question who you belong to.”

[galamalion]

— ★ SABO IN THE BEDROOM！

SABO is a sadistic lover.

don't get me wrong, he's incredibly generous in bed! he prioritizes your pleasure over his own every time, gladly getting down on his knees to show you a whole new world. his ryusoken style has more uses than just fighting, you've come to learn.

the issue is that sabo doesn't stop after one or two orgasms. no, he won't stop 'til you're a sobbing, shuddering mess. he eats you out like it's a three-course meal, your juices running down his chin and dripping onto his bare chest.

sabo lifted his head, his dark, sparkling eyes looking straight at your fucked-out form. “i think that makes three!” he smiles, lips covered in your slick. “let's try to hit five, 'kay?”

SABO finger-fucks you like it's a workout, making sure he 'trains' each of his fingers inside your gummy walls. sometimes he does scissoring motions, sometimes he curls, and sometimes he pistons them inside of you at speeds you thought were impossible.

“you like that, baby?” sabo smirks, watching your body shake and tense up as he suddenly curled his thick fingers inside your cunt. “don't worry, i've still got some surprises for tonight.”

and to him, this is only foreplay. one he feels like you're both up to speed (when your a fucked-out, twitching mess), he'll break out the toys! believe me, if you can think of it, sabo has it. butt plugs, vibrators, gags, handcuffs—he has it all! and if you allow him, he'll be sure to use them to their fullest extent. if you thought the foreplay was bad, just wait 'til sabo is fucking your shaking, sensory deprived body.

“want the handcuffs tonight, sweetie? oops, forgot about the gag!” he laughs, running his finger across the cravat wrapped around your mouth. your eyes roll back as he thrusts once again into your pussy. “natural's better, anyways!” sabo smiles, wrapping his calloused hands around your wrists.

SABO will fuck you. his stamina is wild, and you can only pray that he'll tire out soon. you've had 10, maybe 20 orgasms pulled out? it's hard to remember when all you can think about is sabo's voice muttering out chants and praises,

“so good for me,” he moans, slamming your hips together so hard that you're certain you'll have bruises tomorrow. “just a little more, baby, okay?” he pants, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead. “j-just a little more...”

SABO is sadistic, but that doesn't mean he can't love, too.

[ikiintsugee]

I want to eat him

[vivisnefertari]

[drithligh]

He has the neglectful mother look down!

[crokoby]

Comforting Reiner When He’s Down ⋮ ⌗ ┆reiner x fem!reader

⌗ no smut , depressed reiner , mentions of weight loss , alternate universe - university

📝 ⋮ woke up at 6am and immediately started writing this so sorry if there’s any typos or errors i am actively fighting sleep,, also explains why this is super short… i just had to get the idea out! </3

requests ⋮ open

It was no secret that Reiner had been going through something. His usual charismatic and kind demeanor being reduced to a quiet, reserved mess.

He was falling behind in class, lacking motivation in football, and even just not even trying anymore to socialize, even with you. You both had been dating ever since high school, proving to everyone that high school sweethearts are in fact very real and the love you both had for each other was completely unmatched.

But recently, it had gotten more difficult to support him. Usually, you always went to his football practice unless he contacted you and said he’d be elsewhere, until he stopped showing up altogether. Which was totally out of the ordinary for him, especially without a warning or explanation why.

Eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore. It was getting lonely without your big strong boyfriend around! And you were worried beyond belief, knowing he had a history with depression and other mental health issues. You couldn’t help but worry they were starting to come to light again.

One night when classes were over and everyone was asleep, you snuck over to Reiner’s dorm when you knew his roommate would be at their family’s home, leaving Reiner alone, giving you both privacy.

Knocking on his door, you said his name quietly into the wood, hoping he’d recognize your voice and let you in now that he was aware you weren’t a stranger.

Luckily, it worked and his door slowly opened.

There stood your handsome boyfriend, dressed in loose sweats and a t-shirt, his eyes sunken in and his lips in a tight downward fashion. Just the sight of him made you want to cry. It was obvious he had lost weight lately, not even mentioning the conformation from his coach when they expressed concern in his lack of bulking.

“Hey,” he said groggily, not even trying to force a smile. That was the icing on the cake.

You stepped inside quietly, closing and loving his door behind you before standing to get a good look at him in the dim room. It appeared that he was laying in the dark and just turned a lamp on in order to find his way to the door, you doubted he was actually asleep.

Your eyes trailing up and down his body until your resolve crumbled and you approached him, wrapping your arm around his waist while the other traveled up to hold the back of his head, guiding him down into you so you could properly hold him.

The hug lasted an eternity, Reiner eventually wrapped his arms around your middle and held you tightly. He really needed this.

At some point, the both of you ended up lying in his bed, cuddled up to one another as you gently stroked his cheek, feeling the stubble that he had yet to shave off.

“I love you, Reiner,” you started quietly, “you know you can tell me anything.”

“Just…” he trailed off quietly, sighing so deeply you could feel his breath fanning across your lips, “just hold me, please.”

You did just that. You held him to your chest throughout the night until you both drifted off into a sweet slumber, Reiner able to sleep soundly for the first time in weeks now that you’re here.

Just your presence was enough to help him feel better. You were his savior whether you knew it or not.

do not use for any ai purposes please

[superfreakfranky]

Smoker x fem!reader

Your friendship with Smoker takes a sharp turn when he's exposed to sex pollen.

Cw: afab reader, use of vulgar terms, explicit language, unprotected pinv sex, masturbation, oral sex (reader receiving), unrealistic refractory period, cumshot, creampie, he calls you good girl, spanking, belt used as a restraint. I'll add more if I think of any.

Your friendship with Captain Smoker always stirred questions among the group. He would often talk to you with doors closed in his office, quiet side comments that were only for your ears, and trusting you with special projects that even Tashigi was unaware of.

What the group didn't know was that you and Smoker had grown up as neighbors; your paths often crossing. You didn't always get along in childhood but when you joined the Marines a few years behind him, a new respect grew for you.

As you chased the Straw Hat crew, there was a level of comfort he felt around you.

It wasn't a constant thing, but you'd gotten questioned by a crew members from time to time asking what you had on Smoker.

So when he called a meeting after a particularly weird Island, it was no surprise that you were included. What was surprising, however, was his final demand before closing the meeting:

"Everyone out," he exhales smoke, raising a finger to point, "all but you."

It was demanding, sharp, and you'd noticed a sheen of sweat covering his exposed skin.

To say you hadn't noticed how attracted you were to him would be a false statement. But mixing work with pleasure was always a mistake. And so you carried on.

However, the demanding tone to his voice, the wild look in his eyes, the way he shifted uncomfortably in his big chair...the air felt different. You could sense a charge.

Heat blooms in your gut.

"Sir?" You speak tentatively, glancing over your shoulder at the closing door, the fading voices as sailors go about their night.

A heavy breath leaves Smoker.

"None of that now," his deep voice booms.

His elbow rests on the table still, a casual pose that seems stiff somehow.

His other arm shifts slightly under the table and his back straightens, a troubled expression flashing on his face, nostrils flared, jaw tensing.

He shifts slightly in his seat, a soft groan meeting your ears. He looks flushed, looks disheveled and heated. Fevered?

"I..." He stops himself, exhales. "The ship's doctor examined me after the last island. Been feeling...off..."

"Is something wrong?" You can't help but step forward, anxiety flooding through you.

He purses his lips at your approach, giving you pause.

"I...have a new assignment for you."

"Anything."

His sharp inhale makes you want to draw nearer, but you stay still.

"There was a plant on that last island. It expelled these spores..." as he shares, you watch the sweat bead on his forehead. Now closer, you see his breathing is labored. "Ship's doctor said it'll kill me."

"What?" You gasp, approaching quickly, ignoring the ranks between you.

"He gave me some technical name...locals call it sex pollen. You know it?"

Your jaw drops, but you quickly regain composure.

You'd heard of it.

And, my, the things you heard...

You now know what he needs from you; what this assignment may be.

"Sir."

"As I said: none of that." He shakes his head, swallows hard, gasps a breath. He seems in pain. You realize he probably is. "Please," he waves a hand before him, presenting the space while he leans back in the chair and it's then that you see his...problem.

His arousal is clearly noticeable, impressive even from this distance.

He watches your eyes taking him in, sees your gaze trailing over his tone torso, the sheen of sweat coating his skin.

You sense the hesitation in him as you take tentative steps forward. This was not the assignment that you expected. However, knowing what these spores do to people who go unsatisfied... you will gladly accept the task.

"What do you need?"

A growl catches your attention. You notice his grip on the table is tight.

"Just...touch me." His voice begins harshly but by the end of the statement, it's almost a whisper.

It feels like a secret. Door locked behind you, sailors filed out, candles lining the wall giving new light to the room. What was once dark and pensive is now sensual; his office quickly becoming a den of iniquity.

You can feel your nipples harden, a chill run down your spine as you take steps forward until you are pressed with your leg against his knee. Even this simple touch, you hear an inhale from the giant man. You give him credit: he refuses to touch you first. But once you make the first move, he is quick to be an active participant in his own pleasure.

Your hands grip his shoulders as you mount him. You begin by running your fingers along the base of his neck and into his hair. Smoker shudders.

You think you'll lose yourself in this too.

You're impressed that he can keep his composure this well.

His hands hold your hips, steadying you or maybe steadying him. His eyes flick down to your lips. You give a soft yank of his hair. His eyes take you in, pupils blown. He's far beyond the point of arousal, the spores taking over.

Your chin dips down as you shift to catch his lips. He meets you hungrily, a deep rumble in the back of his throat as he grinds himself against you. You feel his erection scraping against the zip of your pants and adjust yourself so the contact is closer to your clit.

You plan to take it slow, ease in, get to know this version of him...but he has other plans as he guides your hand down his chest, practically moans as he's hovering your hand over his erection.

His, "now" is quickly replaced with, "please" as you cup your hand over his large, warm cock.

You can feel his heartbeat in the tip of it. The way he ruts up into your hand makes you melt a little. This large powerhouse is currently putty in your hands. Spores to be thanked, surely, but you enjoy this side of him right now.

Needy. Eager. Desperate.

Yours.

As if he can sense your thoughts, the man exerts some power, shoving your back to the desk and fumbling with your belt.

He strips you from the waist down, admiring you only momentarily before kissing his way up your thighs and spreading your legs.

"Need this. Need you. M'sorry," he mutters against your skin.

"Take what you want," you reply simply, trying to keep composure.

Your attempts are futile, you realize, the moment his lips meet your pussy.

The man eats like this meal will be his final.

You try to keep your eyes open, to watch the show, but the moment he pulls a glove off and inserts a warm finger into you, your eyes are rolling back.

He suckles at your clit, lapping circles with his tongue before using a pointed tip to lick swift strokes. You can't help but grind your hips along with his movements. His other hand presses your hip down, holds you there as he keeps working.

You hear him unzip his pants and can't help but angle yourself, stare as he pleasures himself while mouthfucking you.

"Oh, God, Smokey..." you admire him.

It doesn't take him long, but his moan is deep and breathy as he ejaculates on the floor.

"God..." he speaks against your cunt. "Third time today..."

You gape at him. He notices. Angling his finger inside you, he urges you to cum while he works his mouth on you more.

Body on fire, you grip his hair, let yourself be pleased for once, allow your mind to drift as you grind against him and use him for your own pleasure.

You're not quiet about your orgasm and when Smoker's free hand covers your mouth, your pleasure is somehow elevated.

You can tell his needs are urgent, but he still lets you ride it out, waits until you're quiet and calm, heartbeat thundering in your ears while he hoists you up, fluidly carries you to the large couch in his office.

He's hard again.

You feel heated and lightheaded from tonight's events, but you're remembering bits that you'd heard about this sex pollen and you know it's only going to get worse before it gets better.

His breathing is labored, desperate look back on his face, a slight expression of pain making its way back.

His cock still out, peeking from the top of his unzipped pants with his dreamy muscles in the background, you want to drool at the sight.

"You gonna cum that good on my cock, sweetheart?"

You smirk. "I better."

Smoker presses you to the cushion, hoists your leg up to drape behind him as he lifts your hips and guides your pussy toward his hard shaft.

Painting his tip with your wetness, he chokes on a moan but continues on.

"Gah, fuck, so sensitive. Feels like I'll come already. Hang on..." he pauses, throws his head back, breathes.

You nod, as if understanding when really you have no idea.

The moment breaks and he's once again urging you on, focus locked in on your body.

When his tip slides in, you pause a moment to breathe and adjust, but he's eager and pressing on.

You push at his shoulders, legs pulling back to press against the large man too.

"H-hey, wait, Smoker..."

"Hm? M'sorry. Okay, w-what do you need?" He gasps, eyes looking wild and misty as if this momentary pause will break him.

"Just...out, then thrust in slowly. Coat your cock-" he begins following instructions, eager to move forward.

"Ah, you talkin' like that..." he shakes his head, "so fucking filthy, my girl."

Your chest tightens at his words. You know it's probably just this moment, but you'll take whatever you can get of him.

With him following your instructions, your pleasure soars.

Smoker angles himself differently, manhandles you with ease.

The way he keeps his hands on you, his gloves off - just warm, bare skin clutching you - it drives you wild.

With him guiding his own speed, you barely catch your breath before he's gasping about "these fuckin' spores' and 'fuck, fuck, hang on.'

He's shaking when he forces himself to still. His skin feels fevered where you're touching him. Watching the way his chest rises and falls, you're concerned.

"Smoker...I think you need to give in."

He shakes his head. "No. Need to stave it off. Need you to cum first."

"We have all night for that." You touch him gently, to which he pulls away from. "You're burning up, baby. Please, just let go."

He's gritting his teeth now, expression clearly pained. His cock twitches.

"I won't think any less of you if you fill me with your cum already, Smoker. I'd actually love to help you."

He loses his inner battle then, adjusts the position then continues thrusting until he's a panting mess and you feel his warmth filling you.

He lets you kiss him while he cums, allows you to swallow down his moans, and nip at his lower lip.

He seems distraught when he slips out of you, as if he's dizzy from pleasure.

You watch him plop beside you on the couch, arms splayed behind him, back firm against the cushion.

You take no time to mount him, straddle muscular thighs.

He looks a little exhausted when he lifts his gaze to you.

Your fingers fondle his jacket, underneath to his tone torso.

"You feel cooler now."

"Yeah," he huffs smoke from the corner of his mouth, purposeful to keep it out of your face. "It'll be like that for all of 5 minutes. And then I'm back to that feeling of overwhelm again."

"What if we get ahead of it?" You suggest.

"Huh?"

"Let me ride your cock, get myself good and worked up. That way, by the time you feel like that, we'll both be satisfied."

His hands grip your hips, eyes studying you.

He hums a deep laugh, shaking his head. "Wow..."

"What?"

He shifts his hips back a bit, lines his half hard cock up with your entrance again, ogles as you stimulate your clit.

"For years, I saw you..." he hums as your fingers trail along the base of his cock. "Mmm... but I feel like now I see you."

You bite your lower lip as you tease your opening with the head of his cock. With your hand wrapped around him like this, he's hard and ready once more.

Gently, you ease down on him by adjusting your position.

His head lolls against the back of the couch, exposing his neck. Languidly, you kiss his exposed skin, allow yourself to bite and suck just enough to hear his deep grumbles again.

Guiding off his jacket, you demand him to be shirtless.

The position allows you full control and it's truly addicting riding him.

"Fuck, I feel you tensing..." he chuckles once he's stripped, grips the back of your hair and pulls to stop you from the attention to his neck.

His hands easily guide down to remove your shirt while you're distracted staring at his torso. He's perfect.

He chokes when he sees you're braless under your uniform.

"Naughty. Holy shit, raunchy girl...how have I never seen these perfect nipples poking through that uniform?"

"Maybe now you'll notice," you quip.

Gripping his shoulders, you surprise him when you shift your weight and shove him down against the seat of the couch. Easily, you readjust as you top him.

Smoker looks defiant, but both of you know he could overpower you with ease if he wanted to.

As you start moving, his hips lift up to meet you, chasing the pleasure you're bringing him.

With your pubic bone pressing against him differently at this angle, your clit is stimulated easier, and you hold your breath as his cock hits a spot deep in you.

"W-wait..." you gasp, pressing your naked body to him, kissing desperately at his chest, trying to hold back your orgasm, but -

"Now would be good, sweetheart. Now or you'll miss your opportunity this round."

The urgency presses you on and before you're ready, your orgasm explodes through you.

It's so intense, you feel yourself shaking, hear your breathing, and feel Smoker covering your mouth to stop you from whimpering his name too loudly.

"Sorry, Smokey...sorry..."

His skin feels fevered again as you're returning to a seated position on his lap. You see the clouded look in his eyes and wonder if you're helping or hurting the situation.

"Need to cum," he pleads, urging your movement. "C'mon, ride my cock. Fuck, ride my goddamn cock, woman."

You nod, feeling like you're in a stupor.

"I've got you," you hum, moving your legs so your feet are on either side of his thighs, allowing better leverage as you fuck down on his cock.

There's a gasped choke Smoker releases at the new position and you know you've got him.

"Oh, fuck! So good. You're perfect. Like that."

Ghosting a hand behind you, you gently play with his testicles as you bounce on his cock.

Smoker sits forward then, pops a nipple in his mouth to cover up his moans, the vibration on your skin adding a new sensation to all of this.

"My god, I needed this. Needed you. Wanted you for so fucking long," you moan.

The intense way he's suddenly staring at you makes you feel small. You regret your words immediately, slowing your movements but he urges you on with a grip of his hands.

"Why...why didn't you say anything?" He asks breathlessly.

"Seriously? Smoker, you seem like the kinda guy who couldn't care less about...well, most things."

He rolls his eyes at you.

"Uh huh."

You stop your movements. He gapes at you.

"Tell me I'm wrong."

"Keep. Going." His tone is dark, eyes hazy, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

You follow instructions.

He's silent as he grips your thighs. You feel like you said the wrong thing, but you continue your movements.

"Maybe we'll talk over coffee tomorrow morning," he says.

Your eyes meet. His lips purse.

Suddenly, he's overpowering you, shoving you down and flipping you over. Strong hands grip your hips as he pulls your ass toward him, bends your knees, and angles his cock back inside your pussy from behind this time.

He admires the cum that's leaking out of you, huffs a sigh as he begins a new pace.

"Damn, what a great view," he compliments as he grabs a handful of your ass, spanks you a few times.

"You're holding off again, aren't you?" You can almost hear the tension in his voice.

"I'm experimenting."

Gazing over your shoulder at him, you notice how flush he looks, how shaky his hands are as he grips you.

"Smoker. Let. Go."

He shakes his head. "This is not how I operate."

"This isn't about your normal stamina. Now is not the time to try to impress me. You're going to do more harm to yourself if you don't give in." Your words fall on deaf ears. "I need you to cum for me, Smokey. Please..." you lay on the breathy voice, push back against him, squeeze your pelvic floor muscles -

And Smoker cums with a loud groan.

He spanks you again, as if to make a point that you're in trouble for your behavior.

Pride swells in your chest when he collapses behind you, kisses up your spine, grips your chin to turn your head and kiss you.

"Well, fuck me, you sure know what you're doing."

---

It feels like an hour that you're laying there together, tangled limbs as you bask in the afterglow.

You're dozing off against his warmth, snuggled into his tone body, enjoying the moment.

When you feel him hardening against your thigh again, you hum a question, waiting for instructions.

Only they don't come, and you drift off into a light sleep.

You're woken to a slight movement, eyes blinking the fog away as you glance at the clock. A half hour nap made you feel worse than before.

Smoker's free arm is moving, but you're still too out of it to fully comprehend right away.

His shaky breathing gives him away.

You sleepily peel your eyes open to watch the muscles in his forearm while he masturbates.

"Sorry," he mutters. "I tried waiting." You shake your head at his admittance. "I couldn't hold off. My head just...ached. I needed to touch myself."

"Now I'm enjoying the view," you hum. "What do you need from me?"

He shakes his head, "you've done enough."

"You want a canvas?" You tease, stretching then sitting up.

He chokes. "What?"

You bite your lower lip.

"Where would you like to cum, Captain?"

He doesn't even get a chance to reply, instead he shoots his load all over your thighs.

You're so turned on, you lean back, exposing yourself to him. Trailing some of his cum down your thighs, you dip it on your finger and insert that digit inside your swollen pussy.

Smoker stares with eager eyes, mouth hung open, breaths coming out short.

His fading erection comes back to life as he watches you.

"You're a damn dream."

You manage another round in his office before your legs feel like jello.

"Any way we can move this party elsewhere?" You sigh as he's taking a smoke break. "Would let you do anything to me in a bed right now."

He raises a brow at you, exhales smoke, nods stiffly.

"You, dear, are too tempting."

It's not considered a walk of shame if you go together, right?

There aren't many people around at this hour, but some are returning after a night of drinking. And they all do a double-take when they see Smoker walking with you.

You keep your hands to yourself, but Smoker can't seem to do the same. A quick shove in a corridor and he's got you pressed against a wall, kissing you like he's still worked up - which you find out quickly is very true, as he grinds his lower half against you and you feel how aroused he still is.

"Never gonna be through this, am I?" He grunts against your neck.

You want to provide words of comfort, but you don't know how these things work.

When you manage to break away from each other, he pulls your arm and practically drags you down the hallway. The winding continues and you feel dizzy and lost but Smoker is on a mission.

His fingers dip beneath the waistband of your pants as you walk and the caress of his hand against you sends chills down your spine.

"You were serious, I'm hoping? Anything I want?" The deep rumble of his voice almost has an edge of exhaustion to it. You're sure he's worn out. Hell, you are.

You're about to respond to him but you hear footsteps approaching. He doesn't take his hand away from your body, and you're wondering if he's still in a fog. The person turns down your hallway and you feel so caught. Wanting to shrink behind him, you put on your best brave face and continue on your path with his fingers down the waistband of your pants.

"Captain," comes a male voice. You recognize the doctor as he approaches. "Is it out of your system yet?"

He eyes you, shoves his glasses up his nose again before nodding.

"Not quite..." Smoker slips his fingers from your waistband, pulls you forward, drapes an arm around your shoulders protectively.

"Well, I see you have some help. I'll assume you'll be back to yourself by tomorrow."

Relief seems to wash over him, but you wonder if things will have changed between you when tomorrow comes.

Worries for the morning, you figure.

The doctor moves along, leaving you two to meander to Smoker's room.

His pace seems to have increased and you feel as if he's dragging you forward. Once his door opens, he shoves you in and locks it behind you.

A heavy breath before he's on you once more. He strips you bare as soon as you're alone.

Anxiety fills you, worry that you won't be able to keep up with his desires through the night. You've talked a good game thus far but your muscles ache and there's a sweet swelling to your cunt.

"Go on. Walk to the bed for me, sweetness."

His eyes are on you as you follow orders.

You hear him undo his belt, but he doesn't toss it to the floor. You don't dare look at him yet. "Now bend. Hands on the mattress." You do, exposing yourself once again. "Good girl."

It's silent for moments that feel too long.

Nervously, you peek over your shoulder and catch him pumping his big fist around his thick cock.

He chuckles darkly. The belt is still in his hand.

Heavy footsteps approach.

You're gripped by the back of the neck and shoved deeper into the mattress.

"You don't mind, do ya, doll? One more for the night."

You buck back against him as he's coating his cock in your wetness.

"Ooh, eager, are we? Easy, now."

He spanks you once, twice. And then he's pressing inside of you once again.

Buried deep, he traces the leather of his belt against your naked back and upper ass cheeks.

"Been too good to me tonight," he compliments. "This okay?"

"Mhm!"

A thrust and then he's quickly spanked you with the tip of the belt.

You tense against him.

A few more thrusts and he's pulling out completely.

You're worried he's done already, but soon realize he's switching positions.

With ease, he lifts you, tosses you toward the head of the bed, climbs on after you.

"Now I'm gonna strap those wrists together so you can't touch me, can't make me cum any earlier. Understood?"

You nod, allowing him to flip you over to your back, knot his belt some intricate way so your wrists are locked, and feel him attach it to the headboard.

"There. Now let me take care of this," he gestures toward his cock, leaking precum, full and thick and perfect.

You angle your hips toward him, grateful these spores dont allow him to keep you waiting long.

You're sore and so worn out, but a jolt of arousal still courses through you just from watching him.

What a view you're given.

Smoker groans when he's back inside you, presses his forehead to your bare breasts, licks and laps and kisses your tits through his thrusting.

He's vocal now in the comfort of his own bed. The low growls, the heavy breathing, the panting he does after he gives you a serious pounding - you're in awe.

When his thumb finds your clit, you know it's a gift. He's trying to stave off again, judging by the heat coming from him.

"Smokey, I can't, " you whine.

He clicks his tongue. "You can and you will."

The stern voice churns something in you. You're pulling at the restraints, hoping they'll give way so you can touch him.

He laughs at your attempt.

"Cute. You think I don't know what I'm doing?"

He gazes down at you and looks woozy, eyes closing momentarily as he clearly tries to blink away the feeling.

"You need to cum."

"And I will. After you."

"You're impossible," you groan. "Just let me touch you."

"No."

"Smoker."

"I said: no."

He fumbles a little, catching himself on his forearms and readjusting on top of you.

Muscles straining, you shift your feet under you, lift up against him to get him to stop overstimulating your sore clit and focus on his pleasure.

He scoffs at you, fights back, presses you harshly into the mattress.

Glancing up, you note the way the belt is looped in the headboard and shimmy to shake it loose.

Before Smoker's foggy mind can catch it, you've removed the restraints from the headboard, loop your legs around his torso, and push all your weight against him to knock him to the side.

Dizzy, surprised, and tired, Smoker gapes at you as you once again top.

The belt still clasped at your wrists, you lower your fists to his chest which presses your tits together nicely.

"You little minx," he can't help the smile that tugs at the corner of his lips.

You ride him slowly, chasing a quick high of you own, knowing just the angle to have him hit inside of you.

When you're pressing open-mouthed kisses to his chest, you gasp his name and repeat it like a hymn.

Your orgasm crashes into you and Smoker talks you through, trailing a hand down your hair.

"I knew you could, pretty girl. My turn..."

He thrusts up into you softly, slow and calm, and you feel him ejaculate deep inside of you.

Dizzy, you faceplant against his big chest, kissing at his pecs, letting his warmth overcome you.

You're not sure how soon after, but you fall asleep like this.

Smoker is gentle as he unbuckles the belt from your wrists, kisses the raw skin. You stir slightly in your sleep as he slips you beside him.

Covers over you, he drapes an arm around you and chases rest too.

---

Morning light emerges through the bedside window, filtering behind your eyelids.

Blinking, you push your aching body up slightly, which is a task with Smoker's big arm draped around you.

The sheets are wrinkled, barely concealing his perfectly chiseled body.

So it wasn't a dream.

Glancing down, you attempt to see if he's still aroused, wondering if the doctor had been correct in his assumption.

You're so caught.

Smoker clears his throat when he catches you peeking under the covers.

You startle, sheepishly look his way.

"Morning wood," his voice is somehow even deeper, laced with sleep. "Been up twice. Once to wank, once to check that it is, indeed, over."

You sigh a breath of relief, grateful he's bested the sex pollen.

You suddenly feel a sense of worry, almost wondering if you should escape from this bed.

As if reading your thoughts, Smoker speaks again, "how 'bout that coffee now?"

Heat blooms in your chest.

"I thought you'd never ask."

[crokoby]

An Eater ⋮ ⌗ ┆koby x fem!reader

⌗ virgin koby , cunnilingus , alternate universe - university , established relationship , smut

📝 ⋮ inspired by this clip i found on twitter (nsfw) , will be cross posted on ao3 when i’m not lazy , will be a two parter , do not use for any ai purposes please

part(s) ⋮ 1 / 2

requests ⋮ open

It was never said out loud, but it was obvious that your boyfriend, Koby, was a virgin.

It showed in his cautious touches and his eagerness to end make out sessions right before any heavy petting ensued in concern it would lead to more and he’d be forced to let out his dirty little secret.

Well, it wasn’t like it mattered to you. You were a virgin once too, so was everyone! So what if he was a bit of a late bloomer? It was honestly a bit of a turn on.

It also wasn’t a case of Koby not wanting sex. Quite the contrary! He may seem sweet, innocent, and levelheaded, but when he looked in your direction it took all his self control not to pop a boner right then and there. Not to mention when you’d cuddle up to him while watching a movie or taking a nap together, he swore you were trying to kill him sometimes.

It was hard for poor Koby. On one hand, he wanted so badly to take the next step in his relationship with you, but on the other, he was terrified of seeming like he was rushing you.

But it’s been four months and late night make outs just weren’t cutting it anymore for either of you.

So, he acted on it.

Shooting you a text after class, he arranged for you to stay at his apartment for the night. He planned everything perfectly, his roommate was going to be out for the weekend so they’d have privacy to be… well, loud.

Waiting for you to arrive was excruciating. He sat on his couch, wringing his hands and staring off into space for the entire wait. He fumbled over his own thoughts, his mind filling with all the things he could do to you. He thought about how you’d taste on his tongue. Your kisses were already so sweet they drove him crazy, he could feel a familiar stirring in his lower abdomen at the mere thought of it.

⟢

“Hey,” your sweet voice sounded from the front door, Koby not even hearing you unlock it and walk in with the spare key he provided for you at the beginning of your relationship.

He almost jumped at the sight of you, his eyes immediately trailing over your body, ogling at the way your jeans hugged your hips and your striped black and grey sweater emphasized your chest. He recovered quickly and smiled at you, wiping his palms on his pants before getting up at making his way over to you.

“Hey,” he responded, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, savoring the sweetness of your strawberry flavored lip gloss, “how was class?”

He did his best to appear normal, as if his mind wasn’t clouded to the high heavens.

“Oh it was fine for the most part,” you trailed off, setting your bag down by the door and shuffling your shoes off next to it. The clatter of your keys hitting the marble island sounded so much louder to Koby, his senses heightened as he wiped sweat from his forehead.

When you stood up straight and got a good look at Koby, you noticed how on edge and tense he seemed, almost nervous. You cocked an eyebrow and looked at him suspiciously, “you okay?”

Koby’s heart almost dropped to his ass when you caught onto him so quickly, yet he still gave you a smile and nodded, not wanting you to worry about him like something was actually wrong. Though, he knew if he didn’t say anything soon, nothing would happen and his plan would be foiled.

“Let’s just hang out,” he shrugged, trying to change the subject before turning on his heel and heading back to the couch to lay back on it, patting his stomach to signal you over to lay on top of him like you two usually did.

You stared at him for a few seconds, not believing him that everything was 100% fine, but eventually you caved at the goofy look on his face and laughed softly, taking your rightful spot on top of him, your hips flush against his. Koby tried desperately not to think about it.

He put on some trashy Tubi movie, a horror flick about a couple of reckless teens deciding it was a perfectly good idea to spend the weekend in an abandoned cabin.

By the first death, Koby was getting antsy. His hand on your back moving gently underneath your sweater, rubbing softly against your skin to soothe you. It was an action that he found himself naturally doing without you having to ask. Perhaps it was a way to calm the both of you.

He spent an unbelievable amount of time hyping himself up and internally dying over what he could possibly do to direct your attention to him. But, turns out, he didn’t need to do anything. Just unintentionally staring at you for a prolonged amount of time did the trick and you lifted your head to look up at him, feeling his eyes burning holes into your head.

“Seriously Koby, what’s up with you?” you asked with a laugh, propping yourself up with your forearms on either side of his torso.

Your voice shocked him out of his daze and he realized he had been staring, a flush spreading across his cheeks at the prospect of getting caught.

“Sorry,” he apologized and lifted his free hand to run through his hair awkwardly, “you’re just really pretty.”

This seemed to satisfy you, even more than he anticipated when he noticed your eyes flicking to his lips before you slowly advanced on him, pressing your lips to his.

He responded equally as gentle, eyes falling shut as he kissed you passionately, both his hands coming to rest on your waist. Your lips moved meticulously against each other, tongues peeking out every so often, but not enough to be demanding or too distracting.

Koby made sure this went on for longer than usual, resisting the slight urge to pull away and direct their attention back to the movie. He was nervous, yes, but he had to stay strong.

Eventually, you were the one to pull away first, not retreating too far as you gazed over his face. The look on yours told him that you were thinking, perhaps more than he was. You knew this was it. Somehow, you knew. You felt it.

Faster than last time, you reconnected your lips to his and he eagerly responded in kind, taking the lead as something switched in his brain.

The kiss, deeper than before, helped him build up some confidence and he gently maneuvered you underneath him, his knees between yours as your legs bordered him the best they could on the cramped couch. He only pulled away for a moment to look into your eyes before kissing you yet again.

His hands trailed down your body, exiting your sweater to run over the denim of your jeans, feeling the warmth of your thighs underneath it. He swore he was going insane, his head spinning.

This was really happening. Finally. Happening.

It felt like time was moving tediously, allowing him all the time in the world to kiss you and feel your body underneath his for the first time. You fit perfectly against him, your hands now holding onto his biceps, rotating between them and his cheeks, occasionally running up through his hair.

Tugging on the hem of your sweater, he pulled away to catch his breath properly and get a good look at you. You looked so beautiful, he thought you were the most perfect partner he could’ve ever asked for.

“Can I take this off?” he asked, tugging again.

When you nodded silently, he sat up so he could help you out of it, shamelessly staring at your breasts once the garment was off and tossed to the floor. He thanked whatever God that was listening that you forgone a bra today, almost as if you did it for him.

He cautiously lifted a both his hands to rest on your sides, soothing up and down them before he lowered himself down to kiss your breasts, earning a surprised gasp out of you, causing him to look up at you through his lashes.

The sight was one to behold, truly. He looked so handsome like this, in such a promiscuous position, gently dragging his tongue over your right nipple, his eyes on yours all the while.

You let your head call back against the couch and you held Koby’s head to your breast, soft moans and whines leaving your lips as he closed his lips around it and began to gently suck between licks.

“Koby,” you sighed, your free hand finding purchase on his shoulder blade, holding him close.

You almost whined in protest when he pulled away and sat up, only to go silent when he pulled his shirt up over his head and dropped it to the floor next to yours. He wasn’t totally ripped, but the definition was there. You were sure there were hearts in your eyes as you stared.

The both of you paused for a few quiet moments, the only sound being the TV in the background. Neither of you paid any mind to the movie anymore, completely forgetting everything going on around you.

“I want to taste you,” Koby said eventually, his eyes flicking to yours and the button of your jeans repeatedly as he placed his hands on your knees, “can I?”

You were rendered speechless at his deceleration, genuinely shocked. Who was this man and what did he do to your Koby? You knew he was a man before anything else and he had needs, likely turning to porn like the rest of the population. It just shocked you by how bold he was being all of the sudden.

But hey, you weren’t complaining.

Quickly, you nodded pushing yourself up to sit on the couch properly, fingers fumbling with the button and zipper of your jeans. Koby moved down onto the floor before you, kneeling, eagerly eyeing the space between your legs.

The sight of him kneeling with his hands in his lap almost made you short circuit, but you stayed focused on the task at hand.

Once you had your jeans off, you made room for Koby between your legs and settled down. Watching as he stared directly at you, his eyes trailing over your body. Once, twice, three times. Until, he broke.

He placed his hands on your legs, rubbing up them a few times before he surged forward and buried his head between your thighs, your hand immediately grasping his hair as you gasped and twitched around him in surprise.

His lips were soft against your skin, your slick covering them as the kissing and fondling from before had excited you to no end. He kissed and licked at your clit, reminding himself to target that area, but not to be too harsh as to hurt you or cause you discomfort,

He wanted this to be a good memory for you to look back on.

Your lips fell open and you dropped back against the back of the couch, fingers tugging Koby closer, wanting to feel him closer. Nothing could’ve prepared you for his tongue entering your hole, a sharp gasp ripped from your throat and you arched your back a bit.

His hands dug into the soft flesh of your thighs, holding them open as you unintentionally tried closing them around his head when he directed his attention back to your clit. His tongue traversed through your folds, lapping up the wetness and taste of you. Soft moans left his throat, muffling against your pussy, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body.

Your climax came faster than you’d expected, cumming around his tongue with a loud moan and a shudder, your hand pushing his head away. He was so latched onto you that a suctioned pop sounded out into the room, his mouth open as he pulled away. His chin was wet as well as the area around his lips, even the tip of his nose. He wiped your juices away with the back of his hand and smiled up at you.

“Was that good?” he questioned, immediately seeking reassurance and praise from you.

You laughed breathlessly at this, nodding and huffing out a soft “yes”.

Koby smiled and laughed as well, dropping his head down to your thigh to press his forehead against it.

“I want more of this,” he said, lifting up his head to look up at you after he caught his breath, “but I want it to be in my bed.”

“I’d like that,” you replied, eager to explore more of this side of your boyfriend.

part two coming soon !! <3

[jimmyscanongf]

honeymoon phase (kinda 18+)

Mouthwashing - Jimmy x Reader

Summary - some more thoughts on this headcanon post i made recently, after you and jim just get together. completely unedited and typed directly into the tumblr post editor.

Content warnings: post sex cuddles, uhhh soft Jimmy?, misogyny, intense idealization of you, descriptions of attempted suicide, descriptions of self harm scars

This isn’t something he’s used to. Warm bed, thick covers, pillows aplenty, your soft skin against his as you lay side by side.

He’s fucked enough girls, alright. He knows the look by heart, the moment he’s spotted, some bitch with the air that she’s been beat or touched by Daddy when she was little. There’s something about Jimmy that reads obvious to them, like they can see his poverty, his violent and impulsive tendencies, his complete fucking disdain for humanity, his history of addiction, his criminal record, all in the features of his face. The shape of his eyes and the dark bags below them, the profile of his nose, the way his hair hangs on his forehead, the curve of his lips, his unshaven face, his posture; it must spell out “broken” or “criminal,” and it’s his loathsome look in specific that makes them wet. That has them throwing themselves at him to spread their hybristophiliac legs before him. Choke me, slap me, pull my hair, fuck me hard while I say no. Then, there were the others who weren’t even worth mentioning. But he didn’t give a shit; pussy is pussy is pussy when it all comes down to it, and no matter how he gets it, it’s way better than his fucking hand, that’s for sure. One and done on his unwashed sheets, and sent off again.

He could no longer say that all pussy was the same with the certainty it was true, not since he met you. He could hardly even say he had fucked you, it felt too crass for what had just transpired. With the way you undressed each other, all tender caresses, shining eyes, open hearted vulnerability, you on your back sighing his name with every stroke, and your hands were in his hair, not pulling, but combing your fingers through in a way that made him shiver; no, he was more inclined to say he had made love to you, in all its nauseatingly saccharine connotations.

Jimmy had tried to kill himself when he was 15. ‘Yeah,’ he would scoff, ‘see how that worked out. Just as well as any other fucking thing I’ve done.’ But he still remembers the burn, hanging from that rope he had tied incorrectly, a deep fucking burn in his lungs and limbs and brain as his body flailed autonomously, his traitorous body trying to live even as he wanted to die. Every single cell in every organ, every tissue, every fiber was ablaze, shrieking in hungry panicked desperation for oxygen. Then as his vision was closing in black around him, the rope snapped, he collapsed on the floor gasping himself back to life.

Only the body felt the relief of taking those breaths. His mind was still burning, just as it had been since he was little, just as it had continued to burn for all the rest of his unfortunate existence after. Misery was his natural condition. Hunger was all he had known. Until he met you.

You, oh strange one, who didn’t turn away from his slimy nature in disgust, nor fling yourself at him because taking dirty felon cock was how you got your rocks off. He was as awful to you as everyone else. And you sure didn’t take it lying down, but neither did you leave him behind in the dust, like the rest of humanity. (Well, except for Curly.) You came back. Trying. Always trying, not always liking him, but never hating him. It confused the shit out of him more than anything. You had, for the most part, completely disarmed him.

And then you told him that he didn’t have to fight and claw so hard to prove himself. That he was valuable, that he was worthy just for existing.

It was like the rope hanging his psyche by the neck had finally snapped, and he was gasping cool sweet relief into his lungs, flooding through his limbs, relieving the desperate ache that had plagued him for all his conscious memory.

He knew then that you were made for him. You were different, you were nothing like the other fucking bitches - no, no, you weren’t a bitch at all. You, in your infinite shining compassion, understood him. You liked him. The worthless cunts would cringe, eyes all slick shiny and firm set on him with fear, edging away like they’d be contaminated by breathing the same air as him, but you would approach him with kindness and familiarity. You smiled and laughed with him. You listened to him talk about his struggles, his past, his fears, with an open heart. You were an angel sent down from heaven to save him, and he scrambled to claim you as his like a man scrambled against being buried alive, like a man with a ball and chain on his ankle scrambled against being thrown into the sea, like a man falsely condemned to the gallows scrambled against being dragged up the platform.

You were perfect. Infallible. Strong, that you could even stomach to be near him. You were golden, crystalline and glittering. You were so luminous, you graced him with your light, shining upon him, illuminating to his eyes that the gaping hole in his being was shaped just like you. You were his destiny. He would suffocate to death without you, and in that, he would rather die with you than without you.

But to his surprise, you had willingly walked to fill him. You came into his life with a smile and a kiss. You let him into your bed, where he lay now. The light of the setting sun casting a rose-coloured glaze about the room. All pillows and blankets and warmth and softness he hadn’t known in years, hadn’t known ever, with your supple skin pressed, melting into his. Your hand interlaced with his own. Held upright, that you both could gaze up at the beautiful perfection that was your connection.

Your other fingertip came up to stroke down from his wrist to his elbow, and he felt the warmth sour just a bit. Oh yeah, you hadn’t seen them before. If there was one thing Jimmy fucking despised about his body more than anything else, it was his arms, bearing all the marks, every bitter reminder of his disgusting and dramatic weakness. He’d long since grown out of that shit. He had more mature ways to hurt himself now. But your gentle fingertip tracked over every dip and elevation that marred his skin, every pearly white scar, thick and thin and every thing in-between, lined up horizontal (and sometimes vertical and diagonal) where long sleeves could hide them. He felt your profound, somber consideration flowing out from the pad of your index finger, heard it in the way your breath changed, and it filled him with discomfort, with a deep sense of wrongness. This tendency was one of his worst shortcomings before he dropped it, and certainly was not deserving of any pity.

He didn’t know what to say. He swallowed thickly. “Yeah, I used to cut myself. Then I figured out that that’s pussy shit, so I quit,” he said flatly, bluntly. He wanted you to drop it, to ignore it, to act like they didn’t exist and never had existed, ‘cause they only made him more pathetic.

Your slow tracing faltered. He heard you inhale, a sound loaded with meaning. You moved your head so that you were leaned up against his shoulder. “…I don’t think it’s pussy shit,” your voice finally came, soft and sad, and it worked up some awful cringe in his gut. He didn’t respond, tensing up against you.

After another couple beats of silence, you spoke again, so terribly, horribly delicate: “You must’ve been in a lot of pain. I’m really sorry, Jimmy.”

He felt a deep throb of anguish in his chest. It confused him, and it lingered painfully. But self-compassion is a feeling, a process entirely inaccessible to him. He’s not going to ruin this moment by trying. He’s perfectly content to leave all the compassion up to you, for whom it comes easy as breathing. He simply dropped his arm, hand still interlocked with yours, pulling it out of view, pulling you down with him.

He shifted, pushing himself up just enough that he could look at you, your perfect face, eyes shining with a mix of compassion and pity and love. He leaned down, eyes fluttering closed, to kiss you on the lips; he’s still quite unpracticed at this, and all its tender passion, he’s a little too hard with it, a little too sloppy, but still completely heartfelt all the same. And he hoped it was enough to make you drop the issue.

[superfreakfranky]

Smoker x fem!reader

Your friendship with Smoker takes a sharp turn when he's exposed to sex pollen.

Cw: afab reader, use of vulgar terms, explicit language, unprotected pinv sex, masturbation, oral sex (reader receiving), unrealistic refractory period, cumshot, creampie, he calls you good girl, spanking, belt used as a restraint. I'll add more if I think of any.

Your friendship with Captain Smoker always stirred questions among the group. He would often talk to you with doors closed in his office, quiet side comments that were only for your ears, and trusting you with special projects that even Tashigi was unaware of.

What the group didn't know was that you and Smoker had grown up as neighbors; your paths often crossing. You didn't always get along in childhood but when you joined the Marines a few years behind him, a new respect grew for you.

As you chased the Straw Hat crew, there was a level of comfort he felt around you.

It wasn't a constant thing, but you'd gotten questioned by a crew members from time to time asking what you had on Smoker.

So when he called a meeting after a particularly weird Island, it was no surprise that you were included. What was surprising, however, was his final demand before closing the meeting:

"Everyone out," he exhales smoke, raising a finger to point, "all but you."

It was demanding, sharp, and you'd noticed a sheen of sweat covering his exposed skin.

To say you hadn't noticed how attracted you were to him would be a false statement. But mixing work with pleasure was always a mistake. And so you carried on.

However, the demanding tone to his voice, the wild look in his eyes, the way he shifted uncomfortably in his big chair...the air felt different. You could sense a charge.

Heat blooms in your gut.

"Sir?" You speak tentatively, glancing over your shoulder at the closing door, the fading voices as sailors go about their night.

A heavy breath leaves Smoker.

"None of that now," his deep voice booms.

His elbow rests on the table still, a casual pose that seems stiff somehow.

His other arm shifts slightly under the table and his back straightens, a troubled expression flashing on his face, nostrils flared, jaw tensing.

He shifts slightly in his seat, a soft groan meeting your ears. He looks flushed, looks disheveled and heated. Fevered?

"I..." He stops himself, exhales. "The ship's doctor examined me after the last island. Been feeling...off..."

"Is something wrong?" You can't help but step forward, anxiety flooding through you.

He purses his lips at your approach, giving you pause.

"I...have a new assignment for you."

"Anything."

His sharp inhale makes you want to draw nearer, but you stay still.

"There was a plant on that last island. It expelled these spores..." as he shares, you watch the sweat bead on his forehead. Now closer, you see his breathing is labored. "Ship's doctor said it'll kill me."

"What?" You gasp, approaching quickly, ignoring the ranks between you.

"He gave me some technical name...locals call it sex pollen. You know it?"

Your jaw drops, but you quickly regain composure.

You'd heard of it.

And, my, the things you heard...

You now know what he needs from you; what this assignment may be.

"Sir."

"As I said: none of that." He shakes his head, swallows hard, gasps a breath. He seems in pain. You realize he probably is. "Please," he waves a hand before him, presenting the space while he leans back in the chair and it's then that you see his...problem.

His arousal is clearly noticeable, impressive even from this distance.

He watches your eyes taking him in, sees your gaze trailing over his tone torso, the sheen of sweat coating his skin.

You sense the hesitation in him as you take tentative steps forward. This was not the assignment that you expected. However, knowing what these spores do to people who go unsatisfied... you will gladly accept the task.

"What do you need?"

A growl catches your attention. You notice his grip on the table is tight.

"Just...touch me." His voice begins harshly but by the end of the statement, it's almost a whisper.

It feels like a secret. Door locked behind you, sailors filed out, candles lining the wall giving new light to the room. What was once dark and pensive is now sensual; his office quickly becoming a den of iniquity.

You can feel your nipples harden, a chill run down your spine as you take steps forward until you are pressed with your leg against his knee. Even this simple touch, you hear an inhale from the giant man. You give him credit: he refuses to touch you first. But once you make the first move, he is quick to be an active participant in his own pleasure.

Your hands grip his shoulders as you mount him. You begin by running your fingers along the base of his neck and into his hair. Smoker shudders.

You think you'll lose yourself in this too.

You're impressed that he can keep his composure this well.

His hands hold your hips, steadying you or maybe steadying him. His eyes flick down to your lips. You give a soft yank of his hair. His eyes take you in, pupils blown. He's far beyond the point of arousal, the spores taking over.

Your chin dips down as you shift to catch his lips. He meets you hungrily, a deep rumble in the back of his throat as he grinds himself against you. You feel his erection scraping against the zip of your pants and adjust yourself so the contact is closer to your clit.

You plan to take it slow, ease in, get to know this version of him...but he has other plans as he guides your hand down his chest, practically moans as he's hovering your hand over his erection.

His, "now" is quickly replaced with, "please" as you cup your hand over his large, warm cock.

You can feel his heartbeat in the tip of it. The way he ruts up into your hand makes you melt a little. This large powerhouse is currently putty in your hands. Spores to be thanked, surely, but you enjoy this side of him right now.

Needy. Eager. Desperate.

Yours.

As if he can sense your thoughts, the man exerts some power, shoving your back to the desk and fumbling with your belt.

He strips you from the waist down, admiring you only momentarily before kissing his way up your thighs and spreading your legs.

"Need this. Need you. M'sorry," he mutters against your skin.

"Take what you want," you reply simply, trying to keep composure.

Your attempts are futile, you realize, the moment his lips meet your pussy.

The man eats like this meal will be his final.

You try to keep your eyes open, to watch the show, but the moment he pulls a glove off and inserts a warm finger into you, your eyes are rolling back.

He suckles at your clit, lapping circles with his tongue before using a pointed tip to lick swift strokes. You can't help but grind your hips along with his movements. His other hand presses your hip down, holds you there as he keeps working.

You hear him unzip his pants and can't help but angle yourself, stare as he pleasures himself while mouthfucking you.

"Oh, God, Smokey..." you admire him.

It doesn't take him long, but his moan is deep and breathy as he ejaculates on the floor.

"God..." he speaks against your cunt. "Third time today..."

You gape at him. He notices. Angling his finger inside you, he urges you to cum while he works his mouth on you more.

Body on fire, you grip his hair, let yourself be pleased for once, allow your mind to drift as you grind against him and use him for your own pleasure.

You're not quiet about your orgasm and when Smoker's free hand covers your mouth, your pleasure is somehow elevated.

You can tell his needs are urgent, but he still lets you ride it out, waits until you're quiet and calm, heartbeat thundering in your ears while he hoists you up, fluidly carries you to the large couch in his office.

He's hard again.

You feel heated and lightheaded from tonight's events, but you're remembering bits that you'd heard about this sex pollen and you know it's only going to get worse before it gets better.

His breathing is labored, desperate look back on his face, a slight expression of pain making its way back.

His cock still out, peeking from the top of his unzipped pants with his dreamy muscles in the background, you want to drool at the sight.

"You gonna cum that good on my cock, sweetheart?"

You smirk. "I better."

Smoker presses you to the cushion, hoists your leg up to drape behind him as he lifts your hips and guides your pussy toward his hard shaft.

Painting his tip with your wetness, he chokes on a moan but continues on.

"Gah, fuck, so sensitive. Feels like I'll come already. Hang on..." he pauses, throws his head back, breathes.

You nod, as if understanding when really you have no idea.

The moment breaks and he's once again urging you on, focus locked in on your body.

When his tip slides in, you pause a moment to breathe and adjust, but he's eager and pressing on.

You push at his shoulders, legs pulling back to press against the large man too.

"H-hey, wait, Smoker..."

"Hm? M'sorry. Okay, w-what do you need?" He gasps, eyes looking wild and misty as if this momentary pause will break him.

"Just...out, then thrust in slowly. Coat your cock-" he begins following instructions, eager to move forward.

"Ah, you talkin' like that..." he shakes his head, "so fucking filthy, my girl."

Your chest tightens at his words. You know it's probably just this moment, but you'll take whatever you can get of him.

With him following your instructions, your pleasure soars.

Smoker angles himself differently, manhandles you with ease.

The way he keeps his hands on you, his gloves off - just warm, bare skin clutching you - it drives you wild.

With him guiding his own speed, you barely catch your breath before he's gasping about "these fuckin' spores' and 'fuck, fuck, hang on.'

He's shaking when he forces himself to still. His skin feels fevered where you're touching him. Watching the way his chest rises and falls, you're concerned.

"Smoker...I think you need to give in."

He shakes his head. "No. Need to stave it off. Need you to cum first."

"We have all night for that." You touch him gently, to which he pulls away from. "You're burning up, baby. Please, just let go."

He's gritting his teeth now, expression clearly pained. His cock twitches.

"I won't think any less of you if you fill me with your cum already, Smoker. I'd actually love to help you."

He loses his inner battle then, adjusts the position then continues thrusting until he's a panting mess and you feel his warmth filling you.

He lets you kiss him while he cums, allows you to swallow down his moans, and nip at his lower lip.

He seems distraught when he slips out of you, as if he's dizzy from pleasure.

You watch him plop beside you on the couch, arms splayed behind him, back firm against the cushion.

You take no time to mount him, straddle muscular thighs.

He looks a little exhausted when he lifts his gaze to you.

Your fingers fondle his jacket, underneath to his tone torso.

"You feel cooler now."

"Yeah," he huffs smoke from the corner of his mouth, purposeful to keep it out of your face. "It'll be like that for all of 5 minutes. And then I'm back to that feeling of overwhelm again."

"What if we get ahead of it?" You suggest.

"Huh?"

"Let me ride your cock, get myself good and worked up. That way, by the time you feel like that, we'll both be satisfied."

His hands grip your hips, eyes studying you.

He hums a deep laugh, shaking his head. "Wow..."

"What?"

He shifts his hips back a bit, lines his half hard cock up with your entrance again, ogles as you stimulate your clit.

"For years, I saw you..." he hums as your fingers trail along the base of his cock. "Mmm... but I feel like now I see you."

You bite your lower lip as you tease your opening with the head of his cock. With your hand wrapped around him like this, he's hard and ready once more.

Gently, you ease down on him by adjusting your position.

His head lolls against the back of the couch, exposing his neck. Languidly, you kiss his exposed skin, allow yourself to bite and suck just enough to hear his deep grumbles again.

Guiding off his jacket, you demand him to be shirtless.

The position allows you full control and it's truly addicting riding him.

"Fuck, I feel you tensing..." he chuckles once he's stripped, grips the back of your hair and pulls to stop you from the attention to his neck.

His hands easily guide down to remove your shirt while you're distracted staring at his torso. He's perfect.

He chokes when he sees you're braless under your uniform.

"Naughty. Holy shit, raunchy girl...how have I never seen these perfect nipples poking through that uniform?"

"Maybe now you'll notice," you quip.

Gripping his shoulders, you surprise him when you shift your weight and shove him down against the seat of the couch. Easily, you readjust as you top him.

Smoker looks defiant, but both of you know he could overpower you with ease if he wanted to.

As you start moving, his hips lift up to meet you, chasing the pleasure you're bringing him.

With your pubic bone pressing against him differently at this angle, your clit is stimulated easier, and you hold your breath as his cock hits a spot deep in you.

"W-wait..." you gasp, pressing your naked body to him, kissing desperately at his chest, trying to hold back your orgasm, but -

"Now would be good, sweetheart. Now or you'll miss your opportunity this round."

The urgency presses you on and before you're ready, your orgasm explodes through you.

It's so intense, you feel yourself shaking, hear your breathing, and feel Smoker covering your mouth to stop you from whimpering his name too loudly.

"Sorry, Smokey...sorry..."

His skin feels fevered again as you're returning to a seated position on his lap. You see the clouded look in his eyes and wonder if you're helping or hurting the situation.

"Need to cum," he pleads, urging your movement. "C'mon, ride my cock. Fuck, ride my goddamn cock, woman."

You nod, feeling like you're in a stupor.

"I've got you," you hum, moving your legs so your feet are on either side of his thighs, allowing better leverage as you fuck down on his cock.

There's a gasped choke Smoker releases at the new position and you know you've got him.

"Oh, fuck! So good. You're perfect. Like that."

Ghosting a hand behind you, you gently play with his testicles as you bounce on his cock.

Smoker sits forward then, pops a nipple in his mouth to cover up his moans, the vibration on your skin adding a new sensation to all of this.

"My god, I needed this. Needed you. Wanted you for so fucking long," you moan.

The intense way he's suddenly staring at you makes you feel small. You regret your words immediately, slowing your movements but he urges you on with a grip of his hands.

"Why...why didn't you say anything?" He asks breathlessly.

"Seriously? Smoker, you seem like the kinda guy who couldn't care less about...well, most things."

He rolls his eyes at you.

"Uh huh."

You stop your movements. He gapes at you.

"Tell me I'm wrong."

"Keep. Going." His tone is dark, eyes hazy, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

You follow instructions.

He's silent as he grips your thighs. You feel like you said the wrong thing, but you continue your movements.

"Maybe we'll talk over coffee tomorrow morning," he says.

Your eyes meet. His lips purse.

Suddenly, he's overpowering you, shoving you down and flipping you over. Strong hands grip your hips as he pulls your ass toward him, bends your knees, and angles his cock back inside your pussy from behind this time.

He admires the cum that's leaking out of you, huffs a sigh as he begins a new pace.

"Damn, what a great view," he compliments as he grabs a handful of your ass, spanks you a few times.

"You're holding off again, aren't you?" You can almost hear the tension in his voice.

"I'm experimenting."

Gazing over your shoulder at him, you notice how flush he looks, how shaky his hands are as he grips you.

"Smoker. Let. Go."

He shakes his head. "This is not how I operate."

"This isn't about your normal stamina. Now is not the time to try to impress me. You're going to do more harm to yourself if you don't give in." Your words fall on deaf ears. "I need you to cum for me, Smokey. Please..." you lay on the breathy voice, push back against him, squeeze your pelvic floor muscles -

And Smoker cums with a loud groan.

He spanks you again, as if to make a point that you're in trouble for your behavior.

Pride swells in your chest when he collapses behind you, kisses up your spine, grips your chin to turn your head and kiss you.

"Well, fuck me, you sure know what you're doing."

---

It feels like an hour that you're laying there together, tangled limbs as you bask in the afterglow.

You're dozing off against his warmth, snuggled into his tone body, enjoying the moment.

When you feel him hardening against your thigh again, you hum a question, waiting for instructions.

Only they don't come, and you drift off into a light sleep.

You're woken to a slight movement, eyes blinking the fog away as you glance at the clock. A half hour nap made you feel worse than before.

Smoker's free arm is moving, but you're still too out of it to fully comprehend right away.

His shaky breathing gives him away.

You sleepily peel your eyes open to watch the muscles in his forearm while he masturbates.

"Sorry," he mutters. "I tried waiting." You shake your head at his admittance. "I couldn't hold off. My head just...ached. I needed to touch myself."

"Now I'm enjoying the view," you hum. "What do you need from me?"

He shakes his head, "you've done enough."

"You want a canvas?" You tease, stretching then sitting up.

He chokes. "What?"

You bite your lower lip.

"Where would you like to cum, Captain?"

He doesn't even get a chance to reply, instead he shoots his load all over your thighs.

You're so turned on, you lean back, exposing yourself to him. Trailing some of his cum down your thighs, you dip it on your finger and insert that digit inside your swollen pussy.

Smoker stares with eager eyes, mouth hung open, breaths coming out short.

His fading erection comes back to life as he watches you.

"You're a damn dream."

You manage another round in his office before your legs feel like jello.

"Any way we can move this party elsewhere?" You sigh as he's taking a smoke break. "Would let you do anything to me in a bed right now."

He raises a brow at you, exhales smoke, nods stiffly.

"You, dear, are too tempting."

It's not considered a walk of shame if you go together, right?

There aren't many people around at this hour, but some are returning after a night of drinking. And they all do a double-take when they see Smoker walking with you.

You keep your hands to yourself, but Smoker can't seem to do the same. A quick shove in a corridor and he's got you pressed against a wall, kissing you like he's still worked up - which you find out quickly is very true, as he grinds his lower half against you and you feel how aroused he still is.

"Never gonna be through this, am I?" He grunts against your neck.

You want to provide words of comfort, but you don't know how these things work.

When you manage to break away from each other, he pulls your arm and practically drags you down the hallway. The winding continues and you feel dizzy and lost but Smoker is on a mission.

His fingers dip beneath the waistband of your pants as you walk and the caress of his hand against you sends chills down your spine.

"You were serious, I'm hoping? Anything I want?" The deep rumble of his voice almost has an edge of exhaustion to it. You're sure he's worn out. Hell, you are.

You're about to respond to him but you hear footsteps approaching. He doesn't take his hand away from your body, and you're wondering if he's still in a fog. The person turns down your hallway and you feel so caught. Wanting to shrink behind him, you put on your best brave face and continue on your path with his fingers down the waistband of your pants.

"Captain," comes a male voice. You recognize the doctor as he approaches. "Is it out of your system yet?"

He eyes you, shoves his glasses up his nose again before nodding.

"Not quite..." Smoker slips his fingers from your waistband, pulls you forward, drapes an arm around your shoulders protectively.

"Well, I see you have some help. I'll assume you'll be back to yourself by tomorrow."

Relief seems to wash over him, but you wonder if things will have changed between you when tomorrow comes.

Worries for the morning, you figure.

The doctor moves along, leaving you two to meander to Smoker's room.

His pace seems to have increased and you feel as if he's dragging you forward. Once his door opens, he shoves you in and locks it behind you.

A heavy breath before he's on you once more. He strips you bare as soon as you're alone.

Anxiety fills you, worry that you won't be able to keep up with his desires through the night. You've talked a good game thus far but your muscles ache and there's a sweet swelling to your cunt.

"Go on. Walk to the bed for me, sweetness."

His eyes are on you as you follow orders.

You hear him undo his belt, but he doesn't toss it to the floor. You don't dare look at him yet. "Now bend. Hands on the mattress." You do, exposing yourself once again. "Good girl."

It's silent for moments that feel too long.

Nervously, you peek over your shoulder and catch him pumping his big fist around his thick cock.

He chuckles darkly. The belt is still in his hand.

Heavy footsteps approach.

You're gripped by the back of the neck and shoved deeper into the mattress.

"You don't mind, do ya, doll? One more for the night."

You buck back against him as he's coating his cock in your wetness.

"Ooh, eager, are we? Easy, now."

He spanks you once, twice. And then he's pressing inside of you once again.

Buried deep, he traces the leather of his belt against your naked back and upper ass cheeks.

"Been too good to me tonight," he compliments. "This okay?"

"Mhm!"

A thrust and then he's quickly spanked you with the tip of the belt.

You tense against him.

A few more thrusts and he's pulling out completely.

You're worried he's done already, but soon realize he's switching positions.

With ease, he lifts you, tosses you toward the head of the bed, climbs on after you.

"Now I'm gonna strap those wrists together so you can't touch me, can't make me cum any earlier. Understood?"

You nod, allowing him to flip you over to your back, knot his belt some intricate way so your wrists are locked, and feel him attach it to the headboard.

"There. Now let me take care of this," he gestures toward his cock, leaking precum, full and thick and perfect.

You angle your hips toward him, grateful these spores dont allow him to keep you waiting long.

You're sore and so worn out, but a jolt of arousal still courses through you just from watching him.

What a view you're given.

Smoker groans when he's back inside you, presses his forehead to your bare breasts, licks and laps and kisses your tits through his thrusting.

He's vocal now in the comfort of his own bed. The low growls, the heavy breathing, the panting he does after he gives you a serious pounding - you're in awe.

When his thumb finds your clit, you know it's a gift. He's trying to stave off again, judging by the heat coming from him.

"Smokey, I can't, " you whine.

He clicks his tongue. "You can and you will."

The stern voice churns something in you. You're pulling at the restraints, hoping they'll give way so you can touch him.

He laughs at your attempt.

"Cute. You think I don't know what I'm doing?"

He gazes down at you and looks woozy, eyes closing momentarily as he clearly tries to blink away the feeling.

"You need to cum."

"And I will. After you."

"You're impossible," you groan. "Just let me touch you."

"No."

"Smoker."

"I said: no."

He fumbles a little, catching himself on his forearms and readjusting on top of you.

Muscles straining, you shift your feet under you, lift up against him to get him to stop overstimulating your sore clit and focus on his pleasure.

He scoffs at you, fights back, presses you harshly into the mattress.

Glancing up, you note the way the belt is looped in the headboard and shimmy to shake it loose.

Before Smoker's foggy mind can catch it, you've removed the restraints from the headboard, loop your legs around his torso, and push all your weight against him to knock him to the side.

Dizzy, surprised, and tired, Smoker gapes at you as you once again top.

The belt still clasped at your wrists, you lower your fists to his chest which presses your tits together nicely.

"You little minx," he can't help the smile that tugs at the corner of his lips.

You ride him slowly, chasing a quick high of you own, knowing just the angle to have him hit inside of you.

When you're pressing open-mouthed kisses to his chest, you gasp his name and repeat it like a hymn.

Your orgasm crashes into you and Smoker talks you through, trailing a hand down your hair.

"I knew you could, pretty girl. My turn..."

He thrusts up into you softly, slow and calm, and you feel him ejaculate deep inside of you.

Dizzy, you faceplant against his big chest, kissing at his pecs, letting his warmth overcome you.

You're not sure how soon after, but you fall asleep like this.

Smoker is gentle as he unbuckles the belt from your wrists, kisses the raw skin. You stir slightly in your sleep as he slips you beside him.

Covers over you, he drapes an arm around you and chases rest too.

---

Morning light emerges through the bedside window, filtering behind your eyelids.

Blinking, you push your aching body up slightly, which is a task with Smoker's big arm draped around you.

The sheets are wrinkled, barely concealing his perfectly chiseled body.

So it wasn't a dream.

Glancing down, you attempt to see if he's still aroused, wondering if the doctor had been correct in his assumption.

You're so caught.

Smoker clears his throat when he catches you peeking under the covers.

You startle, sheepishly look his way.

"Morning wood," his voice is somehow even deeper, laced with sleep. "Been up twice. Once to wank, once to check that it is, indeed, over."

You sigh a breath of relief, grateful he's bested the sex pollen.

You suddenly feel a sense of worry, almost wondering if you should escape from this bed.

As if reading your thoughts, Smoker speaks again, "how 'bout that coffee now?"

Heat blooms in your chest.

"I thought you'd never ask."

[chrymind]

Cross guild poster in my style

[h2o-my-gods]

Between You And Your Boss

Crocodile x (Female) Reader

Words: 3.3 K

Warnings: Fingering, Exhibitionism, Inappropriate Use Of 'Good Girl', Croc tells you what to do, smoking (obvi)

A/N: Watched the second season of the live action, spat this out the day after. Don't let the timeline fool you i've been proof reading this whole time teehee

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Working for the leader of an organization that’s motto was basically mystery to the extreme had it’s downsides.

You were thousands of miles away from your family and couldnt call or write home and even if you could you would no doubt be restricted from saying anything about your work or anything even closely related to it. Your ‘coworkers’ if you could even call them that were obnoxious at best and murderous at their worst. One wrong move had them suspecting the worse and puffing their feathers like a bird in danger and they came to your meeting room on the daily with guns in their boots and knives in their belts.

You were no stranger to danger in this line of work.

But the pros certainly were there as well, you couldn’t deny.

While you couldn’t talk to your family they still received a portion of your pay every month, enough berries that they could live comfortably while barely making a dent in the berries left for yourself. You never had to worry about housing or food or living expenses, the company took care of it all to keep the discretion. And you figured spending every day getting to stand next to and ogling at Sir Crocodile himself was a pretty big pro for this job.

He was dangerous, you knew that from the first moment you had been escorted to his office and given your job description. His eyes had not a spark, but a shine to them, like you had caught the light on a dagger. He was lethal to the worst of them. But this was his business, where the danger hid behind words to clients and waited until they were in back alleys to show itself. In this one room, he was a business man above all else.

That’s what you saw everyday as his secretary, this cut throat business man dealing with sixty issues a day and resolving them all with the flick of a pen across paper.

It was no wonder he smoked so much, the stress must have been insane and yet he handled it well and the smell of the smoke had long since stopped burning in your nose. You were used to it by now as well as who you expected to see in a day.

You had the routine down after a year of working here; He arrived precisely on time, like always, never taking any meetings in the morning except for Miss All Sunday who would waltz in to keep him informed on the millions blunders in the night. He would have lunch delivered to his office from the casino kitchen upstairs and then open his doors to his associates sniveling for more power and time and the balding bufoons of the casino who had endless trivial matters for him to sign on. At two o’clock, Mr One would appear to have words about the numbered associates and at two fifteen you would be delivered the mound of paperwork that you would have to sort through, get signed, and then delivered back to whoever needed it by the end of the day.

The watch on your wrist said 8:46 pm. You still had a stack of papers in your arms and while it was noticeably less heavy than when you had started running around hours ago, it was heavier than any normal day would have been. Something must have been in the air today, it seemed everybody in this damned casino had something that needed to be looked at.

You sighed at the time, figuring you would be here at least another hour for these papers. Your feet had been killing you for the past hour, heels clicking condescendingly on the polished floors. These new heels were murder on your feet but they had been so graciously gifted to you after their previous owner.. Left them here (You were confident that the owner had not left the shoes nor even left the building alive but you pushed that down as you would never turn away a pair of free shoes) and you’d never admit it but hearing Crocodile himself tell you to wear the shoes had sent a jolt deep down inside of you, something hot that landed just underneath your stomach.

You tried to clear those thoughts away as you approached the doors to his office, balancing the papers in one hand and knocking only once before entering. This was practically your office too with how much time you spent in it now a days.

As usual, Crocodile sat behind his desk, cast in shadows save the lamp on his desk and the light from his cigar. He had been in meetings all day, his coat was still draped over his shoulders and he lounged with his fingers pressed against his temple, looking for some kind of relief from the idiots he no doubt had to talk to today. You barely registered Miss All Sunday by his desk in her own ‘sunday best’, you instead found yourself focusing on the strand of his hair that had fallen in front of his face, the way that the smoke from his cigar billowed around his features.

You watched him slowly fix his gaze on you through hooded eyes, that shine of something oh so dangerous finding purchase on your figure. He dismissed his right hand associate with a simple flick, closing his eyes once more. You could see even from the doorway the vein that seemed to throb against his temple.

Miss All Sunday took her leave leisurely, her boots making dull thuds against the floor. You pulled a file from within your stack before she could pass, handing it off to her with little flourish.

“Your file for your next.. Mission,” You tried not to let your voice betray you, although after all this time she was still the one person you couldn’t fool. Maybe it was the way she looked at you, with those eyes of hers, like even she couldn’t tell whether she wanted to eat you alive or not.

“Thank you, (Y/N)~” She floated past you with a smile and for a brief moment you felt like a mouse caught in the grasp of a viper. She floated past you before the feeling could truly take hold, leaving only you and Crocodile alone after the door thudded close.

You didn’t waste time standing about, you were sure you wanted to get back to your quarters just as much as he did and that meant getting these papers sorted out as quick as possible. 

Your heels seemed to echo infinitely more in the room as you approached his side. It seemed like he had melted into the chair from the stress of today, though even slouched his frame seemed imposing. He sat with his foot propped up on his knee, the top two buttons of his shirt open to the air. Your stomach did a flip.

You took a deep breath to compose yourself as you deposited your papers in front of him.

“This section all needs signatures, it’s just the continuation for the casino renovations on floor four and this is the lawyers paperwork for that debacle with the mote.” He didn’t move yet, though he allowed his gaze to fall on the papers as you briefed him on each section. You felt a sting run up the nerve in your leg, your new shoes enacting revenge on your heels in mutiny.

You couldn’t help but lean against the side of his desk as you spoke, trying not to let on to how much your feet were aching. You watched his eyes flick to your hip first, then down to your shoes before they dragged up your body to meet your gaze. Your voice almost faltered at the look in his eyes. Almost.

“Why don’t you have a seat,”

His voice was more gravely than usual and it caught you off guard. There were no other seats in his office, unless he was talking about his desk or his own chair that he lounged in now. Both were quite preposterous ideas to you, a slight heat inflaming your cheeks at his words.

“Oh-Sir, I’ll be fine, it’s no problem,”

Though you turned your attention back to the papers on the desk, desperately trying to remember what you had been explaining before, you could feel that his eyes never moved from your frame, he didn’t even seem to blink as he took a drag of his cigar languidly.

“What do you do when I tell you to get these papers signed..?”

You stopped moving instantly, your brows furrowing ever so slightly.

“I… I get them signed..?”

“And what do you do when I tell you to bring me lunch?”

“I bring you lunch..” You gulped nervously at his questions, seeing where he was going. You hadn’t so much as misaligned a staple in your time here, he had never a reason to reprimand or question what you did for him until now apparently.

“So what do you do when I tell you to sit?”

The air in the room had gone suddenly still, you could feel only your heart beating rapidly in your chest.

“.. I sit”

“Good girl,”

He said it so casually, putting his cigar back in his mouth with something unreadable in his eyes and the hint of a smile on his lips. Inside it felt like you had been struck by lighting, a jolt running through your limbs and causing your heart to suddenly break out in a sprint.

You stood there for just a moment, a franticness rushing through you so much so that you had forgotten about the ache in your feet, all you could focus on instead was a sudden new ache between your legs. You couldn’t help but clench your legs together at the realization.

He was still watching you, waiting, but when you had decided his desk was the best course of action and hoisted yourself up to sit on the hardwood he still did not avert his gaze. You became suddenly aware of your choice of clothing today, wanting to match the heels you had picked a short tight pencil skirt and a blouse. It hadn’t seemed an issue with the clothing his associates liked to wear, but now you felt underdressed.

You crossed your legs fast, clearing your throat and feigning nonchalantness as you tried to continue, tried to keep some semblance of professionalism between you and your boss. Yes, he was your boss, you had to remember that. You had to remember that this was a Warlord of the Sea, one of the seven deadliest pirates in the world, he held your life in his hands.

“S-so, these just need to be looked over before tomorrow, the advertising manager has a meeting at 1:30 to go over these budgets-”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt the faintest touch against your leg. His touch that you barely felt by how soft he was ghosting over your skin. But you felt the heat of it and then the chill as he brushed over miniscule hairs. He started just barely against your calf, raising up to brush past your knee. His voice pulled you out of your own thoughts.

“Continue,”

You felt hot despite your chill, you wanted to move away out of fear that if you didn’t you would unwillingly move closer. Your mind was racing, thoughts too fast to decipher anything except for the feel of his fingers against your thigh.

“Um- I had these drafted up a-as an idea for the next fiscal year… along with the roadmaps for those,”

His eyes bore into your own and that glimmer took on a look of satisfaction, you noted. Your breath faltered with every intake, a clash of your will to keep calm and your desire. He had leaned forward in his ministrations, cigar forgotten as his fingers seemed to catch the hem of your skirt. He was closer to you than he had ever been before, you could smell the smoke on his breath and the scent of his cologne.

Just like that, you felt his hand leave your thigh, out of the corner of your eye you watched him grab the pen sitting next to you before he leaned back in his chair. He was silent as he clicked the pen and started signing papers. You mirrored his silence, partially against your will as you were worried your voice would betray you again.

There was a knock at the door and you couldnt help but jump at the sound. You remembered yourself, the position you were in. Before you could slide off the desk, ready to excuse yourself for whatever important meeting he probably had, his hand grabbed at your waist. It was sudden and firm and for a moment the only thought that tumbled around in your head was just how big his hand was, the veins that criss crossed it’s landscape now that you were looking at it up close..

“I didn’t say you could leave,”

He watched you nod silently before dropping his cigar into the ashtray on his desk and admitting whoever was at the door. You stilled, listening to the door open and the soles of shoes against the floor. You watched Crocodiles demeanor darken, hardening as he watched one of the floor managers for his casino walk in. The man started talking, some useless drivel even to you. It was easy to drown out and even easier to ignore once Crocodile’s hand found itself back on your waist.

Another chill shot down your body except this time there was nothing you could do. You were sure any noise from you would disrupt his meeting, but it was becoming increasingly difficult with his thumb rubbing soft circles right on your hip, almost mindlessly. His grip tightened for only a moment, sliding down to the flesh of your thighs again. This wasn’t the subtle touch that it was before, it was driving you crazy.

His hand moved slowly further, completely out of sight of the manager in front of him until his fingertips were back at the hem of your skirt.

“A-and sir, if I could just bring to your attention that the west floor staff have been asking for those extra days off that their end of year bonuses said,”

His fingers brushed over the tender skin on your inner thighs and with no warning, pressed against your clit through the thin fabric of your underwear. You jolted, a sound you could only describe as a squeak escaping you. You instantly felt heat in your cheeks, looking over to already see his eyes trained on you.

“Keep quiet,”

It was barely a whisper, you didn’t even think that the manager groveling behind you heard it. You could only take a breath to steel yourself, watching his green eyes flick back towards the man in front of him.

You weren’t listening anymore, you couldn’t even fake trying to. His thumb moved in deliberate slow circles again, dragging the fabric across your skin. Beside you, he let out a slow breath, letting his index finger find the seam of your underwear and begin pulling it to the side.

You could feel the metal of his rings against your thighs, they were cold and you had to stop yourself from jumping at the feeling again. His finger traced around your hole with the same tenderness as his touch on your leg before, so light you would barely have realized he was there.

He twisted his hand to push your legs further apart, just enough so that in one fell swoop his index finger found purchase and slid inside of you.

Your eyes fluttered shut, a noiseless gasp dying in your throat at the feeling. You were undoubtedly wet and from the smile that graced his lips he could feel it too. His eyes turned hazy as he slowly started to pull his finger in and out of you, antagonizingly slow, like he was feeling every crevice inside of you. Before long his thumb returned to it’s spot on your clit, continuing to circle the area in addition to his index fingers minestrations.

“A-and so, if we could continue with my plan, Sir Crocodile, tomorrow would be ideal for us to-”

“Consider it done,” His voice boomed through the room without seeming like he even tried, cutting the manager off without a second thought,” Now get out,”

You watched out of the corner of your eye as the man floundered for just a moment before bowing his head and beelining towards the door. No sooner was he out of the room, shutting the door with a resounding thud behind him, did Crocodile turn to you, giving you his full attention with that look in his eyes and a smile on his lips.

“Something wrong, darling..?”

He slid two fingers into you this time with no time to recover and all you could do was throw your head back with a low moan. The image of his hand on your waist was flashing through your brain, how big it had looked against your body. You were pulled back to reality when you felt his fingers curl in you, hitting the spot that made your mouth practically water at the feeling.

“C-crocodile..!” Returning your gaze to him, you found him standing in front of you, his figure suddenly towering over you. A shadow had fallen across his face but his eyes still shone.

“I asked if anything was wrong,”

“Nothing, s-sir..” Your voice came out soft and breathy against your ears and you watched him close his eyes at the sound, almost like he was savoring it. You could feel yourself leaning into him, your eyes flicking down towards his lips.

“Such a good girl, staying quiet for me,” His shoulders slumped forward, allowing himself to be eye level with you, practically nose to nose. He seemed to be taking in every feature of your face, his eyes scanning strategically the furrows in your brow to each quiver of your lip. He watched with a curiosity almost as you writhed under his fingers.

He started a steady pace with his fingers, taking his time as he studied the expressions on your face as a coil started to wind within you. Another breathy moan escaped you as it all started to become too much. His words were lighting a fire inside you and his fingers were coals in the flames. All of the sudden his face was inches away from your own, his breath mingling with yours, you could have reached up to him had release not been just in your grasp. You could only take heavy breaths, your whole body starting to tingle with the feeling.

His warmth left you right before the precipice, the feeling inside of you simmering down all to quick and leaving only a feeling of annoyance. Your thighs were wet from your own slick, your underwear was even worse off.

In front of you, you watched him back away, looking to you like he was admiring his work; your flushed cheeks and bitten lips down to the mess you had made on the hardwood of his desk.

Hooded eyes finally landed back on your gaze, holding it while he brought his hand to his lips and slipped a single finger into his mouth. You watched your juices disappear behind his lips, certain now that the look in his eyes was one of hunger, like he could devour you right here. You clenched your legs together once again.

“I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow at 8, (Y/N), don’t be late..”

He turned and with languid strolls, waltzed to the door and took his exit, leaving you alone in his office with a new problem to deal with when you got to your quarters.

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[ladymochimochi]

I'm back with a request fulfillment! This one is for the lovely @tomatop who requested a fic for Crocodile! Thank you, Toma, for coming to me with this request!! (and for waiting ♡) I always enjoy writing some Crocodile and I loved this idea so I hope I did it some justice haha ♡

"...crocodiles wife/secretary (someone he cares about) gets kidnapped and held for ransom or something but they purposely give her a matching scar across her face."

✦♡✦ Scarred ✦♡✦ ♡ Sir Crocodile x Fem!Reader ♡ ♡ Tags: Angst, Depictions Of Violence, Mentions Of Blood, Reader Is Kidnapped & Harmed, Possessive Crocodile/He Literally Kills For You, Smut In The Latter Half, P in V, Mirror Sex, Reader & Crocodile Are Married, 18+ MDNI ♡ Words: 3.1k

Slowly, you surfaced back to consciousness. 

It felt like your mind was clawing its way through mud as you fought back against the lingering grogginess. The first thing you registered was the inability to move your hands – only feeling the rough fiber of rope rubbing against the skin of your wrists as you wriggled your hands and fingers. Your heart rate spiked inside of your chest, cutting through the remnants of your haziness. 

You slowly cracked your eyes open as you tried to get your bearings. 

Seated in a chair with your arms behind your back, you found yourself bound at the wrists with rope and similarly around your ankles. That was the extent of your confines, though – no gag, no blindfold, no other restraints. 

Licking your parched lips, you looked around the room to try to figure out where the hell you were. But the room was practically empty, no other furnishings besides you in your chair. There were no windows, only a single door across from you. The only source of light was a lone, dim light bulb dangling from the ceiling which barely lit the room.

You took in a deep breath, and tried to rifle through your brain on why you could have been taken and how you were going to get yourself out of this.

Crocodile – the man you loved and also worked for – had such an unending list of enemies, it'd be impossible to try to narrow it down without any sort of hint.

As you attempted to tug against your restraints, the sound of various footsteps approaching made you pause and your hairs stand on end.

The door opened to reveal a group of four men as they filed in and you dug your nails into your palms to keep yourself grounded from the rising fear in your chest. The tallest of the men broke from the pack first and swaggered over to you, hands in his pockets. As he got right up in front of you, you were able to make out his face in the low light and your lips became a thin, straight line as you recognized this man.

He was a lackey for some wannabe conman Crocodile had done a deal with recently – a deal that had gone sideways in the end but that hadn't been your problem nor Crocodile's.

"That asshole you call your husband ripped us off," the man circled you like a shark, every word dripping with malice. "So, we're going to keep you here until he pays our boss back every bit he owes us, plus interest." He stopped in front of you to stare you down but you held his gaze.

Did Crocodile actually rip them off? Maybe. Maybe not. At this point, you were already tied to a chair in some dingy basement so it didn't really matter.

But if these men really thought that Sir Crocodile would be paying a ransom any time soon, they had another thing coming.

"You really don't know who you're dealing with then," you told him, almost sounding bored. The man sneered at you, and while a small chill went down your spine, you refused to back down. You felt a blend of anger and disgust towards these men for kidnapping you like this, for insulting your husband. Channeling Crocodile's vain demeanor, you lolled your head to the side and sighed, "I almost feel bad for you."

In the blink of an eye, the man snatched a hand out to uncomfortably grip your face, pushing your head back, and you fought back a gasp. From his pocket, he quickly whipped out a knife and brought it to your face which caused the rest of the men in the room to scramble forward.

"I-I don't think we're supposed-"

"We can't touch her-"

"Shut it." The agitated man hissed, cutting off the men who tried to speak up. It was clear this lackey, this loose cannon, was the one in charge of this small group. The others backed down and fidgeted as they watched him continue to manhandle you.

While you still kept your expression as cold and impassive as you could, it was like alarm bells were going off inside your head. Your heart thundered inside of your chest, a cool sweat broke across the back of your neck and it felt like acid was burning at the base of your throat.

Still, you would not let them see you break.

Your eyes narrowed, glaring at the man, and he snarled, your continued defiance sending him over the edge.

"She loves that bastard so much, why don't we have them match?"

As his words registered a moment too late, your eyes became like saucers and your lips parted.

Then the blade made contact with your skin and you felt the slice of the cool metal as it dragged along your face. Starting at one ear, crossing over your nose, and ending at your other ear.

Once satisfied with his work, he stepped back to give you a smug grin before he called out to the others behind him, "What do we think, boys?"

An uproar of outraged and worried shouting broke out across the room but it all sounded muffled to you, like you were underwater. One of the underlings ripped the man away from you and your head fell forward, chin tucked to your chest.

You didn't even feel the pain – shock had taken over all of your senses. You barely even felt the rush of blood down your face.

You stared blankly at your lap, small droplets of blood now staining your clothes. Your mind was a swirling void of disconnected thoughts. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes but you gritted your teeth, refusing to crumble. Not yet. Not until they left.

Suddenly, the door slammed against the wall, now hanging half off it's hinges, and the leisurely click of dress shoes – expensive dress shoes – reverberated around the room. As the men in the room fell silent, frozen in shock like statues, an amused scoff came from the newcomer.

"You really thought you could take what's mine and get away with it?"

The sound of your husband's disdainful, haughty voice was what finally made a light sob rip up your throat as relief washed over you. You lifted your head slightly, peering up through your lashes, just to know that it was really him, he was really here.

In the faint light, you saw two of the men go down in an instant, bodies slashed by curves of sand. Crocodile sauntered further into the tiny room, his brutally, powerful presence dominating the space. Just as swiftly as the first two, he took down the underling still holding onto the one in charge, another slice of sand flashing across the room.

Your attacker took in his fallen comrades before he let out a bellowed yell and charged at Crocodile with the knife still in his hand. With the utmost ease, Crocodile grabbed him by the throat and gradually dehydrated him, his hand crushing his windpipe further and further as he did so. Once the man was nothing but a husk, he flippantly flung him to the ground without another thought.

In only a few steps, Crocodile was by your side and his hook made quick work of your restraints, giving your limbs instant relief. Cradling one of your wrists to your chest, you rubbed at the chafed skin, tucking your chin downwards yet again.

"Let's get you out of here," Crocodile was assessing the room before he looked back down at you.

You didn't respond, though.

Words were impossible right now as sharp, stinging pain was beginning to slowly ebb across your face and a shaky breath escaped you.

Crocodile’s deep voice turned soft as he said your name while he knelt in front of you – a softness you only heard on rare occasion. “Look at me." An agonizing blend of emotions churned within your stomach and you hunched yourself forward even further.

"Sweetheart, look at me.” You could hear the faint edge of worry laced in his usually stoic tone, and you started to raise your head, only by a bit. His large hand came to cup the side of your face, but you felt his fingers jolt once they made contact with your blood stained skin.  

Then he gripped under your jaw to hurriedly tilt your head back, making your breath hitch, and it was like all time had slowed down between the two of you.  

Through your own watery gaze, you watched those always piercing, always lethal, eyes of his slowly widen. His expression became distant, like he was a thousand miles away. But that expression was then gone as quickly it had arrived.

Instead, his sharp features contorted into raw, silent fury.

"They hurt you. They hurt my wife." His whispered words were like ice, unforgiving and cutting.

Normally, your husband's temper was louder, brasher. On display for the world to see and to cower from.

But this was different – you had never seen him like this before. One could think he was almost calm, but there was an undercurrent of cruelty to every ripple of movement from him.

Off in the distance, you could hear the clamoring of more men approaching.

Crocodile reached back to remove his heavy fur coat from his shoulders before draping it around yours. Your hands held onto his coat around you while you silently watched him, light tears lining your lashes.

"Stay here," he instructed you, voice low, his eyes vacant as he stood back up to his full, towering height.

Turning towards the ruined doorway, Crocodile moved with a deadly fluidity that reminded you of a merciless predator. His hand flexed repeatedly and sand poured off of him in unrelenting streams, leaving trails of it behind as he made his way out of the room.

The first shout from the newly arriving group rang out but it was quickly cut off with the hiss of sand and an anguished cry of pain. Though you couldn't see it, you heard the carnage unfold as another agonized wail sounded off and then another, the next coming even faster than the last.

Clutching his coat closer, you closed your eyes and took comfort in the warmth and scent of your husband while scream after scream echoed from the hallway.

Some Time Later

Bracing your hands against the bathroom counter, another breathy moan escaped past your lips. In front of you, mounted on the wall, was an ornate mirror and through half-lidded eyes, you watched in the reflection as Crocodile repeatedly drove his cock into you from behind. He had you fully pinned between his burning skin and the cool stone of the counter, his left arm snaked around your waist.

With every thrust, his impressive length bullied your inner walls, sending sparks of ecstasy through your veins. Just as you felt your arms begin to give out, Crocodile pulled you back and flushed up against his broad chest.

At this angle, the way his hips slapped against your ass caused your body to rock forward, making your tits bounce. In your husband's secure hold and at his complete mercy, you dropped your head back against his pec, letting an endless string of moans and mewls spew from you. You felt those sharp eyes of his gazing at you through the mirror and a shiver danced down your spine, desire burning hot in your lower stomach.

Cupping under your jaw from behind, Crocodile held your face in his large hand. His grip was tight but your eyes only lightly rolled back from being in his firm grasp.

Then you felt his thumb stroke your cheek – right along the line of your new scar.

It had taken some time, but your face had healed, and now you had a scarred over line that went along your face, from ear to ear. Just like his own.

It was something you'd have for the rest of your life, but, as you adjusted to it, you had decided to wear it with pride. And with the way Crocodile's eyes zeroed in on it sometimes, like right now, you couldn't help but wonder if he secretly liked it. You honestly wouldn't be surprised with your husband's vanity if a part of him savored you bearing his resemblance.

Especially since the source of said scar was dead as a doornail – and the entire crew he ran with. In that fit of icy, silent rage unlike anything you'd seen from him before, Crocodile had made sure that not a single soul had survived.

Crocodile snapped his hips forward again, harsher this time, and it pulled choked gasp from you. You weren't sure how much longer you were going to last, not with the way his cock was relentlessly drilling into you. That burning desire from before now simmered throughout your whole body and airy moans built up in your throat, Crocodile's grip on your face getting tighter with each one that slipped past your lips.

His eyes never left your face in the mirror as you teetered over the edge of your orgasm, that coiled feeling in your lower stomach so incredibly taut.

"Keep looking at me, sweetheart," Crocodile lustfully growled, causing your eyebrows to crease further together as another desperate moan came from you. While your mind was becoming absolute mush, you focused on locking eyes with him and a satisfied groan rumbled it's way through Crocodile. "Good, that's it."

Your pussy clenched around his cock at his praise, earning you a hiss of pleasure from your husband. Shifting his hips, Crocodile changed his angle all while keeping his brutal pace but now he was hitting your sweet spot, making your vision white out.

With a few more wanton cries, your orgasm finally coursed through you wildly and you wrapped your arms around Crocodile's sturdy arm at your waist to anchor yourself to him. Your sobs of ecstasy echoed around the bathroom while you continued to rock your hips back in time with his thrusts, riding out every bit of your orgasm. Crocodile was stroking your face again, his breathing turning harsh and heavy while his eyes devoured you in the mirror.

Just as you came down from your sexual high, Crocodile let go of your face to hold you by your hip, keeping you in place while his cock plunged into you erratically. You could barely catch your breath, only choked moans barely making their way out of you while he had his way with you.

With a deep groan that radiated through his chest, Crocodile snapped his hips forward one last time and spilled into you. Small gasps escaped you as felt his cock kick inside of you and his arms now crushed you against his torso. Soon, you felt his body relax against yours and you bit your lip to hold back a light whine.

The two of you stayed like that while you both caught your breath, your sweat slicked bodies melting against one another. Your eyes slid closed and you relished in the moment with him, feeling his chest move with every breath he took.

After a few moments of this, you reopened your eyes to find Crocodile looking at your scar through the mirror. His expression told you nothing of what he was thinking and it made you think back to that day. Ever since then, you had had a question for him that you still had yet to ask him.

"You look like you have something on your mind," he rasped out, an eyebrow quirked in question.

Still holding onto his arm, one of your hands gave his forearm a light squeeze before you answered him. 

“When you first saw me – first saw what they did...” you trailed off, gathering your thoughts. “You had this look on your face, only for a moment. But it was like you were elsewhere.” Flicking your eyes back up to his, your question was a gentle whisper. “Where did you go?”

Crocodile held your gaze in the mirror for a beat before he sighed, looking away.

“The past.”

His tone, weary but still pointed, made it clear that you weren’t getting anything else from him about it. But you understood; his past had always been an untouchable subject between the two of you, no matter how long you had been by his side.

You were his wife, his secretary, his – sometimes literally – partner-in-crime, but for someone like Crocodile, there would always be a wall that could never fully be brought down.

You gave him a small okay and began to idly rub your thumb along his forearm, dropping the topic.

Letting out another deep breath through his nose, Crocodile dropped his forehead onto your shoulder. Your eyes softened as you watched him for a moment before reaching your hand back to thread your fingers through his, now slightly mussed up, slicked back hair. You heard a small rumble come from your husband as his strong arms pulled your body closer to his.

Affection, like this, from Crocodile was a rarity, and it was always on his terms – starting and ending exactly when he deemed so. You bit back a smile as the thought of him being like a large, disgruntled cat floated through your mind.

His nose rubbed against your back as he buried his face against you, his hand digging into the meat of your hip.

"It'll never happen again."

His words – quiet but solemn, a whisper against your skin – pulled you from your thoughts as you felt his arms constrict around you further.

You didn't need him to clarify what he meant. Ever since you'd returned, you had constantly felt Crocodile's shadow everywhere you went. His presence a silent and looming, but protective veil over you.

He hadn't uttered a word about it – no showy demands or controlling orders. But as you went about your day to day life, your husband was just always there. Smoking a cigar nearby while you filed paperwork, trailing closely behind you as browsed through different stores, watching from your shared bed as you went about your nightly routine.

You knew there was a good chance you'd eventually tire of it, especially if he started to bar you from going anywhere or doing certain things, but for now, you were letting yourself enjoy his comfort and security.

Crocodile lifted his head and met your eyes in the mirror one more time. Now, there was a fire in his eyes, a fire that said he'd let this whole world burn for you – something he'd already proven on that day.

With his face next to yours, the start of your scar and the end of his became one long, scarred line.

A small smirk graced your lips, one that Crocodile returned easily, before you gave his forearm another squeeze.

"I know."

[goodsirs]

One Piece 2.08 "Deer and Loathing in Drum Kingdom"