day 15 kinktober 𔓘 office kink, cigars — CROCODILE
𐦍 in crocodile’s empire, kindness is just another weapon — and the one who accepts it is often the most dangerous temptation of all.
18+ only, nsfw, power dynamics, smoking, slight drug use, pinv, oral sex (m!received)
crocodile x reader
kinktober masterlist
Crocodile’s office door clicked shut behind you, leaving you alone with him. The faint smell of expensive cigars and leather hit you first. He was seated behind the desk, legs crossed, exhaling smoke. He leaned back in his chair, flicking the ash from his cigar while staring at you.
You approached his desk, a neatly wrapped box of cigars in your hands. “Sir Crocodile… a gift from Doflamingo,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.
His eyes fell on the box. “A gift, hm?” He asked, his voice low and dangerous. “Doflamingo never sends anything innocent.”
He uncovers the box, and six large cigars are lined up. He takes one with his skillful hand and smells it, sniffing its aroma. His piercing eyes light up, and a faint smile appears on his face.
“You’ve never smoked before, have you?” You shook your head nervously, and he let out a deep laugh that made you shiver. “Then stay, I’ll teach you,” he said, lighting the cigar in his hand. He gestures for you to sit in the seat opposite him, on the other side of the desk. He took the first drag effortlessly, smoke curling lazily in the air.
He handed you the cigar and you took it hesitantly. Trying to imitate him, you drew a small puff before coughing violently. His laugh filled the office. “Endearing,” he murmured, eyes glittering with amusement.
You tried again, a little more bravely, but you coughed once more, again and again, each attempt eliciting another dark laugh from him. He leans against the desk, detailing every jolt of your body, still that smile plastered against his lips. “Seeing you like this, struggling, it’s so… charming,” he said, captivated.
The smoke stung your throat, your eyes watered, and yet you couldn’t look away from him. His gaze was both commanding and amused, and every cough, every little mistake made you more vulnerable… and more desirable in his eyes.
And then suddenly, you feel lighter, the smoke that has entered your lungs giving you a faint feeling of floating. You understand, Crocodile's words come back to you, obviously Doflamingo doesn't give innocent gifts. He catches your eyes, and he knows you know now.
“How are you feeling?” And you know there's another meaning behind this question.
So you take your time before answering, but you already know what you should say, what you want to say. “Good,” you say, your own voice making you shiver.
He raises an eyebrow, half intrigued, half amused. “Then come here, and show me how good you are.”
You already know the routine. It’s not your first time in a situation like this – you know exactly how it goes. You get up from your seat and walk over to him. He turns slightly in his seat, but you help him a little more, and now he's fully turned towards you. He uncrosses his legs to give you room, and grabs the cigar still in your hands.
With a small, steadying breath, you sink to your knees in front of him, hands resting lightly on his thighs. Your gaze meets his, and you can feel the unspoken understanding between you, that dangerous, teasing energy that always lingers when you’re alone like this.
He leans back slightly, smirk curling at the corners of his lips, watching you with those sharp, commanding eyes. “Good,” he murmurs, “you know exactly what to do.”
You tilt your head, giving him the look he loves to see on your face. The office feels smaller somehow, the air thick with smoke and tension.
You move closer, guided by instinct and memory, letting the teasing build naturally. His dark eyes followed you as you leaned on him, lips brushing against him, tongue tracing the hard lines of his length through his trouser.
Your slender fingers caress his strong, powerful thighs until they reach the opening of his pants. You undo the buttons while watching him, never taking your eyes off him, and blindly you feel his cock, feeling it harden under your fingers.
He blows out a cloud of smoke that enters your nostrils. When you tug at the last piece of fabric, his cock leaps out and smacks against his abdomen, smacking your cheek in the process. Your mouth immediately falls to the head to kiss it, before putting it in your mouth.
“Carful,” he murmured, voice low. “Or you’ll make a mess before I even start.” You gasped around him, taking him deeper, the taste of him sharp and intoxicating, your hands braced against his thighs to keep your balance.
His hands threading into your hair, guiding you slowly. The cigar still in his mouth, drift the smoke lazily, making you cough slightly in the process, and he chuckled, tightening his grip on your hair.
You bobbed your head faster, taking him fully, your lips slick with precum, and he groaned, leaning more into his chair, the chair creaking under his weight. His grip tightens, holding you flush against him, guiding every movement. “That’s it… just like that,” he growled. “Make me feel how much you want me.”
You whimpered around him, choking slightly, fumbling against his thighs as he guided you, every gasp and moan making him hungrier. He leaned forward, teeth grazing your ear, low and dangerous. “You’re so deliciously messy,” he growled, hand pressing firmly into your neck as you took him greedily, head bobbing with fervor.
His other hand came up, brushing over your cheek, his hook grazing your lips. “You’re mine,” he whispered, voice thick, rumbling, the heat of his dominance settled into you. You shivered, moaning around him, desperate to take more, to please him entirely, the smoke curling around you both.
You moaned around him, gagging lightly, and he chuckled. “I could watch you like this forever.”
You feel him twitch in your mouth, his grip on your hair tightening, and you knew he was close. Your tongue working greedily, bobbing your head harder, desperate to take every inch, desperate to hear him growl and groan. “Yes… that’s it…” he hissed, hips jerking slightly, “just like that… don’t stop…”
And then, with a low, guttural growl, he came, spilling into your mouth in a hot, messy rush. You gagged lightly, coughing around him, but he only laughed, pulling you flush against him, letting you taste every drop, his dark eyes locking with yours.
You swallowed carefully, lips slick, cheeks flushed, hands still braced against his thighs as he leaned back in the chair. “You’ve been a very naughty little thing,” he said, smirking darkly, thumb brushing over your lips. “It's nice, isn't it, to strut around in that little dress all day. Letting customers stare and touch you like that.”
His thumb enters your mouth, and you suck on it enthusiastically. He watches your eyes sparkle, and sees you apply yourself to suck his thumb as you would suck his cock, smiling.
He applies more pressure to your mouth, and you whimper. "You're trying to play with my nerves, you know perfectly well how much I don't like to share." Taking another drag on his cigar, he tugs at your mouth, causing you to open your lips and blow the smoke in your face, swallowing it in the process.
“Up on the desk,” he ordered, voice commanding. Your knees trembled, but you obeyed, climbing onto the polished surface of his desk. He repositioned himself in front of it. “Now,” he murmured, his hand grabbing your thigh to open your legs, discovering that you're not wearing panties. “Look how slutty she is, all bare for all to see. Touch yourself then, I want you desperate for me before I take you.”
Heat pooled immediately in your core, and you obeyed, fingers sliding over your slick folds, teasing, exploring. His hook rested possessively on your knees, the tip brushing over your sensitive skin, occasionally pressing just hard enough to make you gasp and arch.
Hearing your fingers bathed in your slick, you moan longingly, savoring this moment of pleasure. And you exaggerate it all, you move your hips, play with your lips, opening them for him, stimulating your clit at the same time. Your hole blinks, opening and closing with each breath, glistening. .
You hear him laugh, and you place one of your legs on his shoulder, earning a kiss and then a bite on your calf. Then you shivered violently, breath coming in short gasps, as you feel his hook slide across your slit, the pressure barely there, but enough to make you flinch. So your fingers start to move faster, harder, until it feels unbearable. Every teasing press of his hook made your body coil tighter, trembling with need. “Nghh– … ahh– ” Each sound escapes your throat, raw and trembling. Your hips lifting instinctively, fingers slick and shaking. ‘P–please, I want more…”
He stands up from his seat, towering over you, and then slowly, deliberately, he positioned himself at your entrance. You gasped as he pressed inside you, stretching you, filling you completely.
He began to move, slow at first, letting you adjust, letting you feel every inch, then picking up the pace, trusting hard and deep, his hand gripping your hips, keeping you flush against him. His hips slammed into yours with deliberate force, and you cried out.
The office was filled with the sounds of skin against skin, your moans, his low growls, the faint creak of the desk beneath you. “Such a mess,” he groaned, his voice guttural, lips brushing your shoulders as he pounded deeper, harder.
Your fingers still trembled as you brushed against yourself, slick and over-stimulated. His dominance consumes all your attention. Every movement of his body pressed you further into the desk, his cock filling you in ways that made your knees weak.
“Look at you… all soak, dripping for me,” he whispered, slamming into you harder. You feel lost, overwhelmed by all this sweat, slick, and the lingering scent of cigars and sex heavy in the office.
Your fingers moved faster over yourself, desperate for release, until finally you shattered, crying out, heat and pleasure spilling over you. He didn’t let you recover – thrusting harder and deeper. “I’m going to–” he said, and with a guttural groan, he released inside you, spilling hot and thick loads, his body shuddering as he claimed you completely.
You gasped, trembling under him, slick and sticky. He stayed pressed against you, holding you flush, lips brushing your hair. “There. Now everyone will see who you belong to, walking around with almost nothing on,” he whispered.
Your hands curve around his waist, holding him close. He lets you linger for a few precious seconds, letting you savor the moment, before finally sliding out of your weak embrace and standing up.
“Look at you,” he murmured, fixing his hair. “All ruined. This is what happens when someone tries to play games. Did you enjoy being naughty for me? Huh?” he asked, voice thick and dark. You nodded, biting your lip, breath shaky, and he chuckled, low and satisfied. “Good girl…” He teased, dragging his thumb slowly over your lips.
Finally, he takes a long drag from the cigar and, pressing against you one last time, his mouth on yours, he blows the smoke into your mouth, forcing you to take in as much as you can. You cough once more, and feel his warm breath against your lips as he laughs.
“Now, get up,” he commanded, a smirk tugging at his lips.
SUMMARY: Shanks knew better than to get infatuated with a younger artist than him, but can you blame him? With you looking at him with doe eyes, your sweet voice and innocent smile… You were going to be his.
GENRE: Smut
WARNINGS: AGE GAP (Reader is in her mid-20s, Shanks is in his late-40s). Modern!AU
WORD COUNT: 3.6k words.
“We need you to choose an artist to collab on the new song, Shanks.” He sighed for what felt like the 100th time that day.
“I know, but I don’t think there’s someone adequate, yet.” And that was true. The album was almost finished except for this one song, the song that was a duet.
He just wasn’t satisfied with all the demos he’s been receiving for the past month, and he was getting stressed. He was THE Shanks. He was one of the greatest songwriters of his generation, and that title came with so much pressure. Maybe not from the public, everyone seems to like whatever he does, but from himself. He just needs to feel it is perfect. He just needs to live up to his own expectations.
Shanks went through the demos once again and caught something new. A jewel case with your name on it.
He knew who you were. The first time he ever heard of you was in an interview where they asked you who your role models were. You said his name without thinking about it. He felt flattered for some reason. He liked your music. He always had some respect for you since he knew you wrote all your songs. This took him by surprise since, in the pop scene, not all artists wrote their songs. According to him, it felt too manufactured, too calculated.
But you, you were like a breath of fresh air.
He listened to your demo. And god, the combination of the verse you wrote for the song and your voice, was what he needed.
He never thought you wanted to work with him. Something about “never meeting your heroes” was something he remembered you saying also in that interview.
But he felt relieved. Relieved that he finally found the voice and style he was looking for.
Your team was ecstatic. They were basically on cloud nine after receiving the news that Shanks chose you to sing with him on a new song.
This was big, they knew that Shanks had so much power, or well, everyone seemed to respect him in the industry, so working with him was like having a golden ticket to stardom. Not like you actually needed the help, but this was good.
Such an opportunity only comes once in a lifetime, and the idea of working with Shanks was something you were looking forward to.
The thing was simple. Since you already worked on your verse, and according to your manager, “he loved it,” everything else was supposed to be quicker than expected. Record the song with the band; Shanks himself will be there to produce the song as well. If he likes the sound of the whole song, then that would be it, or if he needs to change something, you would meet each other again for a 2nd session to make the changes.
It appeared that Shanks didn’t want to record a million versions of the same song. He always went with the most natural and spontaneous versions for his songs, and you were glad about that.
You’ve lived firsthand how everyone in your discography wanted to make the best version of any song you recorded. Meaning that sometimes, they would make you record too many versions of the same verses just to choose the best one, leaving you drained and tired.
That’s why you loved to sing live. When singing live, there was no need to produce a presentation too much, it was just a pure, raw, and emotional feeling.
The previous night of the song recording was anything but peaceful. A million scenarios came to your head of how meeting Shanks would unfold. He was actually the artist who made you want to become an artist. You always had such high respect from him. So a part of you was really nervous, but the professional side of you was really excited. You’ve heard that he was such an amazing person to work with. Yeah, he was serious, but he seemed to enjoy being at the studio. Even if he looked drained, it appeared that he liked the feeling if it meant just spending more time there.
Your manager told you that not a lot of people would be allowed at the studio, though. Normally, only the artists Shanks worked with were allowed to enter for obvious reasons. So this was an “only you” thing.
When you were about to enter the studio, you gulped. This was it. You were about to meet the person you’ve admired since you were younger. You could feel your heart in your throat, and your hands were shaking slightly.
A faint knock made Shanks stop the music. He knew it was you knocking.
“Come in.” You took a deep breath and entered the room.
For the past hour, you and Shanks have been talking. The moment you entered his studio, he could tell you were nervous, so he just wanted to make you feel more at ease before you began working.
He didn’t really know what to expect from you, but he was delighted. You seemed really down-to-earth. He knows that people in the industry tend to forget that, at the end of the day, this was just a job, like any other. People tend to start getting out of touch with their surroundings and start becoming entitled, or as he likes to call them, “entitled pigs.” But he was pleased to see that you haven’t forgotten who you really are.
The more the two of you spoke, the more Shanks realized he was going to enjoy his time with you.
And the fact that after some time, the two of you realized that you’ve been talking for hours was the proof he needed. It was almost 7 pm, you arrived at noon. Both of you were too stunned, realizing you didn’t work as you were supposed to.
But in both of your minds, this was a necessary measure in order for the two of you to get comfortable and be able to work properly without any awkward moments.
You finally went into the recording booth. Shanks was such an expert at guiding and giving instructions for you to start singing. You’ve done this a million times, but for some reason, it felt different. Maybe it was the fact that for the first time, it was only you and another person at the studio, or maybe it was the fact that it was Shanks the only one there with you. Maybe both. But you liked the privacy this whole situation had.
Shanks was pleased with the few recordings the two of you made. Looking at the studio’s clock, he was able to see it was almost midnight.
The two of you were listening to the final recording of the song. You couldn’t help but smile when you heard both of your voices blend together so perfectly in the chorus, and it appears Shanks was also sharing the same sentiment with you.
Look, he has collaborated with so many artists in his life, and this was the first time he felt like this song was meant to be. It was pure perfection to his ears.
A part of you was happy. It all went so smoothly and quickly. But that meant this would be the only time you two would spend time in the studio.
The two of you stayed in silence for some minutes, enjoying each other’s presence before Shanks finally spoke up.
“This was the only song that was missing from the album. It will be released in 3 months, and after that, we just have to wait.”
“Wait for what?”
“To see how the song does in the charts, sometimes songs that aren’t meant to be singles do really well on social media, and the discography wants us to promote the song as a single.”
“So, in this case, if the song goes viral, we would have to promote it together?”
“Only if you have time, of course.”
“I’m going to make sure to have my agenda free, of course, just in case.”
It seemed that Shanks was blessed with the ability to predict the future, as your song performed exceptionally well in the charts. Without being a single, it managed to make its way to the Billboard Top 10 after one month of its release, which was perfect for you and him, meaning that you now had to promote the song on different late-night shows or morning news programs.
The past 4 months were agonizing, though. Everything changed after that evening that you spent with Shanks at the studio. Your brain was consumed completely by Shanks. After finishing recording the song, the two of you stayed up all night talking about your lives, your dreams, and your wishes for the future. You never opened up to someone that easily. But there was something about Shanks that made him be perceived as someone you could trust.
As for Shanks, he knew better. He was well aware that nothing could happen between the two of you. He could easily be your father, for fucks sake. He was in his 40s, you were in your 20s, but still, he was willing to risk everything he had worked for to get at least a taste of you.
You’ve been texting each other every single day, wanting to know how your days went, wanting to know what you’ve been working on, or even saying to each other “Good morning” or “Goodnight.” It appears that you were just looking for an excuse to keep being in contact. Not wanting to stop.
It was actually Shanks the one who brought up the news to you, letting you know that his team was going to reach out to you to see if you had time to promote the song.
What he didn’t know was that you were waiting for this to happen, that you actually made time and convinced your label to let you promote the song, even if it didn’t perform well, but they had faith, just like you. And in the end, it was a success.
The next week, you were now at a TV studio preparing to sing with Shanks at a late-night show, the first of 4 presentations that both your labels had prepared.
You arrived a little bit early, knowing that your hair and makeup would take more time than what Shanks would need. You texted Shanks earlier that day, letting him know you were nervous since this would be the first time you would perform live with him. “you don’t have to. if anything, i should be the nervous one, to sing with someone as pretty as you…” Those words kept going around your mind. “He thinks I’m pretty” was all you could think about, which was a good thing since when you least expect it was the time to go on stage and finally, sing with your role model live.
While you were on stage, you tried your best to look as professional as possible. But you could feel it. The need, the desire that was coming out of Shanks every time he looked at you.
You didn't know if it was part of the presentation. Maybe he looked at all his female collaborators like this. But what you didn’t know is that this was actually the first time Shanks saw someone with such intensity on the stage. He couldn’t control it. It just happened.
For a moment, you almost forgot how to think properly, ALMOST. Because even if you were about to fall to your knees, you were still very professional, looking back at him with the same desire he was looking at you.
As the song finished, the two of you ended really close. This was new for both of you. You just seemed to connect.
As you were exiting the stage, your manager couldn't help but show her excitement, giving you a quick hug. You smiled.
“My god, you did amazing! Such great chemistry!” You tried to hide the triumphant smile that was threatening to appear on your face. But Shanks was faster and couldn’t help but quirk an eyebrow and smirk slightly.
As the presentations came to an end, you couldn’t help but feel hopeless.
This last week was filled with lingering stares and touches between Shanks and you. He also wanted to spend more time together, so he started to arrive earlier than he needed to after that first presentation, spending time in your dressing room. Not everyone was allowed to be there; only your makeup artist and your manager were present, so seeing Shanks there wasn't that weird, at least for them. But if you asked Shanks’s manager. Yeah, that was a first for him.
Something that also changed drastically after that first presentation was the tone of your messages would have. They went from something innocent to something that had more sexual tension.
It was as if the two of you forgot that real consequences would happen if the two of you were together, if you dared to see what it would feel like to touch each other.
But could you be blamed? Everyone who saw that first presentation admitted there was something unspoken between the two of you. With comments like “god i want to be her so bad,” “please god, i need to be his controversially younger girlfriend,” or something as straight as “i think they did it but i just can’t prove it.” You could only wish.
To celebrate the end of a very successful week, both labels decided to throw a small party for everyone involved in the making of his last album. All the collaborators, band, marketing… Every single one was there. But he could only look at you, and you could only look away from him, not wanting to be that obvious.
But Shanks wasn’t having any of it. He craved for your attention. He needed to have you that night. Consequences be damned. He didn’t care if everyone at the party saw how desperate he was. He had only one thing on his mind. You.
You could feel his hand on your lower back, interrupting the meaningless conversation you were having with some singer Shanks also collaborated with on the album.
“Mind if I take her away for a few minutes?” The guy simply nodded and searched for a new victim to bore.
“Follow me.” He whispered in your ear, sending goosebumps through your whole body.
You could only comply. You could feel your heartbeat in your ears, your breathing was erratic. You weren’t stupid. You knew Shanks’s patience was running thin. Yours too.
You didn’t pay any attention to where Shanks was taking you. You could only guess this was one of his houses (yes, apparently having a lot of money meant having not only one, but at least four other places to live in, according to what Shanks told you) since he quickly took you to the farthest room of the house where this party was taking place.
As soon as he opened the door, he slammed you against it and cornered you.
“You have no idea what you are doing to me, do you?” he grabbed both of your wrists, putting them on each side of your head. Making you whimper at the sudden roughness of his actions.
“Shanks…” You could feel his breathing tickle your cheek, but you couldn’t react. Your whole body was on fire since the very moment he touched your back.
“Just tell me to stop, and I will. Please tell me to stop.” The thing is, if you told him you weren’t interested in him, he would stop right there and then. No questions needed. You were the only reason he has been restraining himself for a whole week.
“What if I don’t want you to stop?” You finally were able to form a phrase.
“Then say it, I need a verbal confirmation that you want this, that you don’t care that every single person at this party saw us coming upstairs.” You shivered at the thought. You were so in a trance that you didn’t notice the questionable and curious looks everyone sent your way.
“I want you, Shanks.” That was all he needed. Like a starved man, he kissed you as if there was no tomorrow. The tension that was created that night finally dissolved as his hands roamed all over your body, trying to memorize your silhouette.
You took the initiative and started to remove his jacket and shirt as quickly as your hands allowed you to. Trying to hide the fact that you were shaking.
Shanks also took this as an opportunity to take off your mini dress.
“Do you know how crazy and mad this dress made me? The moment you entered through the front door, I just wanted to take it off and show everyone how good I can make you feel.” You moaned at the words. “Here, or the bed?”
“Here.” You knew you sounded desperate. The bed was literally a few steps away from you, but you couldn’t wait any longer, nor did Shanks. When you least expected it, Shanks was already fully naked, coating his cock with your juices, no prep needed. Shanks grabbed one of your legs, bringing it up to his waist, as his other hand was guiding himself to your entrance.
“Wait, I don’t have a condom.” He sounded concerned.
“I couldn’t care less, I’m on the pill.” That was all it took for Shanks to ram into you.
It was as if both of you entered heaven, as if all the waiting was worth it.
Shanks couldn’t believe how tight you felt around him. He, even if he hated to admit it, hasn’t had any type of sexual activity for some years now. But this was worth the wait. As for you, no guy your age has been able to fill you up this well. You could feel Shanks was filling you up perfectly. His cock hitting places you didn’t even know existed.
Even if you were only letting out some breaths every time he was inside of you, Shanks could tell you were enjoying it, clenching every single time he moved into you.
“Taking me so well against a door, my angel.” You loved the nickname that came out of his lips. “I promise that next time we are together, this house will be empty, just me and you, and I swear to the gods that I will make you scream my name.” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head.
So this wasn’t a one-night thing. He wanted more. Of course he did. Now that he had finally touched heaven itself, he wasn’t going to let you go that easily.
You didn’t know how long you’ve been fucking. Long enough for the two of you to move to the bed, wanting to enjoy as much as possible without the inconvenience of getting tired.
At this point, it was more than obvious where the two of you were. Both of your managers tried to come up with a good excuse for your absence, but the people at the party weren’t dumb. They know what they saw. But secrecy was something that all the people within Shanks’s circle shared. They didn’t dare to say anything at all, not wanting to risk their careers.
As for you and Shanks, you couldn’t believe both of your staminas were that high. Shanks was able to manhandle you without any problem, switching positions as if it were the easiest thing in the world. He also realised he loved having you on top of him. He was able to see all of you like this. Your tits and your fucked out expression were the highlight of such a position.
“Please, angel, come around my cock one more time. I know you can do it.” Shanks moved his hand to your clit, trying to stimulate you so he could feel you cum again. He was never going to get tired of the view. Your mouth was wide open as you tried your best not to moan out loud. One of your arms covered the lower half of your face, as your hand roamed all over his chest, trying to find something to hold onto.
“That’s it, y’look so pretty when you come for me.” He didn’t understand how he was able to last that long, but he knew he wanted to finish inside you.
“Can I cum inside you? Please, my angel, let me do it.” You only hummed, not trusting yourself to speak properly. The overstimulation was fucking your brain.
“Fuck I’m gonna fill you up so good. So good that you will be walking around with my cum for the next few days.” The words he was speaking were going straight to your core, and somehow, the familiar knot at the bottom of your stomach was forming once again.
“Yes, please, Shanks.” You didn’t know what you were asking for, but Shanks appeared to have understood you, wanting to feel you come undone around him one more time.
Shanks’s thrusts started to become erratic, no real rhythm at this point, chasing his own orgasm. Shanks let out a brutal groan. And that was enough for you to climax for one last time. Shanks’s movements came to a halt. As the two of you tried your best to calm down, Shanks moved your whole body with such delicacy, trying his best to remain inside of you, not wanting to spill anything he just gave you.
“You did so well, angel. So perfect, just as I knew you were going to be.” You felt your whole being warm at the comment.
The two of you stayed in silence, him still inside of you, enjoying once again each other’s company, just as that first night the two of you shared.
You didn’t know how you were going to work this out. But something was certain, and that was the fact that you wouldn't let each other go for quite some time.
SUMMARY: You knew the New World was going to bring new adventures and surprises, and you didn’t expect to find the man who had been haunting your mind on an island that was supposed to be abandoned.
GENRE: Smut
WARNINGS: Minor spoilers for Punk Hazard, a tiny little bit of angst.
WORD COUNT: 2.4k words
Part 2 < Current Part > Part 4?
2 years. 2 fucking years had passed. And to say Smoker’s breathing didn’t catch up on his throat the moment he saw you again would be a lie. Because he still remembered you so vividly. The way your soft skin felt against his, the way you looked at him in Loguetown and Alabasta, the way you sounded, your sweet scent. He remembered everything, even the last time he saw you.
You were almost going to die. And somehow, all of you (even him) managed to escape the insane trap Crocodile put you in. And even with your whole body drenched, barely breathing, and coughing, you still looked perfect in his eyes.
Which brings him to what he would call his biggest issue with the Straw Hats. He was conflicted. Because, why did a pirate save his life back in Alabasta? Why did a pirate crew save a whole country? And the biggest question that has bugged his mind ever since… Why couldn’t he stop thinking about you?
2 years. 2 fucking years where he thought you were dead, just as the rest of your crew. And of course, he wasn’t the only one who thought that. The Marines, the world government, every single person thought that, and he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was so relieved when he saw the newspaper reporting that you and your whole crew were seen a few days ago at Sabaody.
And now here you were, standing next to the pirate hunter, looking at him.
He was glad two of your other crewmates distracted Trafalgar and Straw Hat so that he could watch you a little longer, and then you smiled. You fucking smiled at him. But that didn’t last long. You quickly turned around and made your way to your fellow crewmate, the girl with the orange hair, Nami. He wasn’t able to hear a thing you were saying, but he saw your excitement at whatever Trafalgar did a few moments ago.
The plan was simple: make your way to the “R” building. Of course, everyone had other things to do, like Luffy wanting to kick Caesar’s ass, Law wanting to destroy a lab, and him wanting to kick Vergo’s ass. It appears that you also had your own plan to protect the kids and help them escape this hell of a laboratory, at least that’s what he was able to hear.
And his heart melted, because how can a pirate care about some random kids? And he hated himself, because he was really wishing nothing would happen to you, and for the next few hours, he knew he needed to concentrate, but only you were in his mind.
This ship was immense, and you didn’t know where to go. You were actually searching for the rooms where the kids were being taken care of by Law, but you were more than sure that at this point, you were lost. You understood what it was like to be Zoro for a moment, and you promised yourself that you were never ever going to make fun of him.
At this point, you just wanted to leave and go outside, where everyone was having fun, and you were sure there was a delicious meal Sanji had prepared, when you saw him. And you forgot how to talk.
He had some bandages covering his torso, and somehow you could still see his muscles and abs. You didn't care if you were staring a little too much at him. He cleared his throat, and you finally looked at him. You smiled.
“I think I’m lost.”
“Figured. Trafalgar and your raccoon friend are already outside.”
“Reindeer.” You corrected him
“Hmh?”
“Chopper, he’s a reindeer.”
“He looks like a raccoon to me.” You only nodded. Everyone seemed to see him that way.
“Then… what are you doing here, captain?” Smoker only looked at you intensely. Knowing fully well that he had to admit, he was desperate to see and talk to you.
“Looking for you.” You raised an eyebrow at the confession. You weren’t expecting him to be so… direct. And you tried your best to remain calm, even as, inside, you felt like doing flips and jumping from happiness, face heating up.
“Oh.” You didn’t know what to say, how to react. This was new territory for both of you. Previous interactions only left space for sex, no talking. However, it felt good. Peaceful even. But the moment didn’t last for long, as you could hear some of the G-5 men calling for Smoker. They were getting closer and closer, so Smoker did what he thought was the best idea: take you to the closest room and hide, wanting to spend more time with you before any of you had to leave Punk Hazard.
He quickly found an open room and took both of you, closing the door as quickly as possible, making you crash against it, with him being really close to you. His breathing left a tingling sensation on your forehead. You looked up and saw him looking directly at you, making your breathing hitch. You waited for a few more seconds, waiting for the voices to fade so you could talk again. You had so many questions: you wanted to know how he ended up leading the G-5, how he ended up on the New World, and, most importantly, why he was looking for you.
But it appears that Smoker was more eager since he was the one who broke the silence.
“I thought you were dead.” He confessed.
“Hmh? Like you mean a few moments ago or…” You knew he meant that 2-year break that you all took.
“Both. But I’m so glad I found you here.” He grabbed your cheek and caressed it. Smoker didn’t know what took over him, but for once, he wanted to be honest and stop pretending he wasn’t worried sick about you.
“Well, look at you, captain, who would’ve thought you actually have a heart?” You said in a playful tone and smiled. Both of you were now looking into each other’s eyes. You didn’t need to have more conversation, you knew why he was there, and god, you were craving for it too, so you took the initiative and grabbed him by the neck, pulling him closer to you, and kissed him. You sighed into the kiss after feeling Smoker’s arms wrapped around your waist.
You felt hot, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the big-ass coat you were wearing, or the fact that after 2 long years, you were finally doing what you were craving the most with the man who had been haunting your thoughts ever since you saw him for the first time in Loguetown.
The kiss deepened, none of you wanting to break it. You had so little time, however, you still wanted to enjoy this as much as possible. Knowing fully well that this could be the last time you could see each other, at least for the next few months or even years. Your hand slowly made its way to his hair and tugged it, earning a groan from him.
“Smoke-” you moaned his name as he started to suck the skin of your neck.
“You sound so sweet, but we have to keep it down.” You only nodded and quickly took off your coat, knowing it was only going to get in the way. You shivered the moment you felt the cold air hit your body. Smoker didn’t let that bother you though, because as soon as you were free of that heavy thing, he continued kissing you.
Your hands found his waist and started to remove his belt and unbutton his jeans. He, on the other hand, had one hand resting on your head, while the other one prevented your head from hitting the metallic door. Once you were finally able to unbutton your jeans, Smoker helped you remove them completely.
You grabbed his cock and started to smear the precum that was coming out all over his shaft, stroking him, making him get harder with every movement.
You moved your panties to the side and started to guide him to your pussy.
“Eager, aren’t we?” You didn’t respond. You only started to rub his tip against your entrance while looking into his eyes. He didn’t need to be told what to do. He tapped one of your legs so you could move it up, then grabbed it, giving him better access to you.
You stopped breathing the moment he was slowly sliding into you. You swore he was splitting you up, filling you up so good.
“Shit. I forgot how tight you were.” He hissed, giving you time to adjust his size, but as soon as he stopped, you started moving your hips for some kind of friction. That’s all it took for Smoker to start thrusting into you. Each of them sent shockwaves through your body. God, how you missed this feeling, being opened up so good. His cock hit the most secluded area of your inner walls. And then he hit that sweet spot that would make you see stars.
Your head snapped back against the door, and you closed your eyes, trying to remember the way his cock was massaging your insides.
“Fuck, you are so perfect, my pretty girl.” He managed to say in between thrusts. You clenched around him, making him groan. “God, I missed this. I missed you so much.” You opened your eyes and whined. He was looking at you as if you were a goddess. Someone who has been haunting him for so long, and he finally was able to get a taste of. Your body trembled every time he slammed into you. He could feel your knees starting to get weak, so with one swift movement, he picked you up as if you were nothing, moving your body off the door, both of your legs wrapped around his waist, and your arms around his neck automatically. The new position made him sink further into you, if it was even possible, your clit was now rubbing against his lower abdomen, providing you with more pleasure.
“F-fuck, don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop” You babbled, head resting against the crook of his neck.
“You have no idea how much I missed this pretty pussy, how much I was craving for your body. God, what did you do to me?” Every thrust was starting to leave you breathless, slowly building up your arousal.
“S’too much.” Tears were starting to prickle your eyes, too overwhelmed. His scent, his body heat, the rush of knowing fully well that anyone from your or his crew could find you in such a compromising position… Gosh, you were so scared but so excited at the same time.
Smoker, didn’t even acknowledge what you just said, too pussydrunk even to understand what you meant. “You know how many nights I jerked off imagining it was your pretty hands that were making me cum, how many days I wish you were there at the end of the day, waiting for me?” Your mind for a split moment imagined the scene, you would be able to be with him every night, you wouldn’t have to sneak and fuck in alleys, abandoned places, or in secret. He would make you feel amazing every single day, and not only when the universe wanted to make you cross paths. Your mind was somewhere else, but your body was fully present in his ministrations. Pussy getting wetter with every movement, throbbing around him.
“Sh-it.” You choked out. Your legs and arms started to tense around him, and your body’s temperature started to rise. “Like that, please, keep going.” You whined.
“God, I’m gonna fuck you so good that your pussy will only remember the shape of my cock.” His pace grew more and more desperate. “No one will be able to make you feel this good. Got it?” You nodded against his neck, focusing on chasing your own release, and with one brutal thrust, your whole body convulsed, waves of pleasure roaming all over your body.
Smoker could feel your pussy pulsing around his cock, and it didn’t take long for him to paint your walls with his seed. You stayed like that for some minutes, his cock still inside you, and you could feel his cum leaking out of you.
“Come with me.” The words came out of Smoker before he even comprehended what he had just said.
“What?”
“Leave them and come with me. You could be part of my crew. I will protect you. No one will dare to say anything.” Your heart warmed up at the request, and you understood that it was the after-bliss talking. He wasn’t thinking properly.
“I can’t.” You started to move so you could stand by yourself, slowly getting him out of you, whimpering at the loss. You went and grabbed your jeans and put them on, while Smoker also fixed his clothes. Smoker didn’t say anything. He was just waiting for an explanation.
“You don’t know what you’re saying. I’m a pirate. And you know what the Marines do to us. Best-case scenario, I get taken to Impel Down. Worst one-“ You didn’t need to finish that sentence. You could see a hint of disappointment on his face. “I’m gonna miss you.” You confessed, trying to distract him. He grabbed you by the neck and kissed you one more time. Knowing this would be the last time he was going to be able to do it, at least for now.
The last moments seemed so surreal. The two of you allowed yourselves to be honest with each other, opened up (mostly him), and let all the emotions that had been pent up for so long out. You knew this was going to change everything. You broke the kiss, even though it physically hurt to do so.
“I’m going to miss you too.” You couldn’t help but smile and gave him only one last kiss.
As the Sunny was finally leaving Punk Hazard, you could feel your heart break a little. And that was when realization hit.
You were so damn in love with Smoker, but unfortunately, he was a marine, and you were a pirate. Maybe if the circumstances were different, you wouldn’t think twice and would leave whatever life you had to be with him. But in this one, you would have to live with the fact that you couldn’t be with him.
As for now, you need to focus on your dream and your friends’ dreams. The only thing you could look forward to was to meet him again in the future, and maybe, just maybe, you would allow yourself to choose him.
A/N: Oh, the forbidden love these two have... Guess we would have to wait for their next encounter... 🤭
SUMMARY: You should really start being cautious, even more now that you are a pirate and find yourself at the place where one of the biggest marine bases is. But could you really be blamed when the hottest man you’ve ever seen in your entire life takes you to an alley to fuck you?
GENRE: Smut
WARNINGS: Exhibitionism kink.
WORD COUNT: 1.4k words
Current part > Part 2
Nami’s instructions were simple. Keep it on the low, buy everything you need without drawing too much attention, and then return to the Merry safe. And you thought you were doing a good job. You were taking a walk through Loguetown, just looking, in hopes of seeing something pretty enough worth a couple of berries, when you saw him.
A tall man, smoking two cigars. He was… distracting to say the least.
You tried your best to ignore him, continue with your plans, but you could feel his gaze, burning. He was following every move, every step, every breath, and god, you were going insane.
A part of you was worried. Did you bring too much attention? Maybe he was suspecting you were a pirate. But the other part (the one you were worried could take control any time soon) was enjoying the attention and wanted to get closer to him, to keep his attention on you.
Was that a problem? Probably. Did you care? Not at all. You didn’t even know the man, but god, your mind was going through the most insane and hot scenarios in that moment.
It was simple, the man was hot.
A couple more minutes passed, and he was actually the one who approached you.
“Looking for somethin’ in particular?” You heard him say, but didn’t turn around to look at him.
“Not really, just, you know, looking around. Waiting for something to catch my eye.” You turned around and felt your breath caught in your throat. His presence was overwhelming. His whole body was towering over yours, and you felt something warm in your core, and your cheeks were burning. Your eyes roamed all over his uncovered chest, and smiled.
When you least expected it, he was cornering your whole body against a wall in an alley he guided you to. Mouth hot against your neck, while one of his hands was covering your mouth, preventing you from making any sounds.
“Mhng.” You rolled your eyes to the back of your head. Your lower part of your body was rubbing against his hard-on.
“Shh. You gotta keep quiet if you want me to continue.” You looked into his eyes and nodded. His hand left your mouth. Any self-respect you had flew out the window the moment you heard him groan.
Smoker didn’t know what possessed him. For god’s sake, he was supposed to be patrolling, waiting for any sign of the Straw Hat pirate or his crew. But here he was, hands all over the ass of some girl whom he had just met. And it felt incredible.
You thanked yourself for choosing to wear a skirt earlier that day, making this easier and quicker for him.
The man moved your skirt up, pooling it around your waist. He didn’t waste any time, knowing fully well this had to be as quick as possible if he didn’t want any of his subordinates to search for him and find him in such a compromising situation.
He moved your panties to the side, followed by unbuttoning his jeans. You looked down and swore that you felt your stomach flip after looking at his size. You couldn’t stop looking at his cock, and you thank whatever god was listening for letting you experience this before going into the Grand Line.
He started to smear his precum all over his shaft as some form of lubricant. He moved one of your legs to give him better access and a view of your entrance. He angled himself, and your breath hitched.
As he was slowly going inside of you, you closed your eyes and crashed your head into the wall. Smoker couldn’t believe how gorgeous you were.
“Jump.” He whispered against your ear. You did as he said, and his grip on your waist was harder. Your legs wrapped around his waist. He waited just a little more before starting to move at a fast pace. Even if the two of you wanted to take your time, you knew this wasn’t going to be possible, at least not now.
You could feel every single time he was thrusting into you, making you shiver every single time his cock was hitting that spot that made your eyes roll. And the fact that anyone could just walk into this at any moment was making you get even more excited.
“F-ugh, taking me so well, aren’t you, pretty girl?” You felt yourself clench around him at the nickname. “So you liked being called that? Pretty?” Your body answered him involuntarily. He didn’t say anything else after that, he only wanted one thing: to feel you cum all around his cock.
Your gaze moved to the lower part where both of your bodies were connecting, and you couldn’t help but moan. Yeah, he was big, and you didn’t believe how you were able to take him all. There was a ring of precum and your juices forming at the base of this cock. You were hypnotized.
“Knew I wanted to have you like this the moment I saw you.” You started to roll your hips to match his thrusts, making the pleasure more intense, and you were grateful the man was strong enough to carry you and fuck you at the same time.
You were sure this type of man only comes once in a lifetime, and you were kinda sad that this was going to be a one-time thing, but he didn’t let you think too much, since you could feel his cock throb inside you.
“I’m gonna-“ You finally managed to say something, barely.
“You gonna what?” He was enjoying this a little too much. But you look at you, such a pretty girl, too cockdrunk to even say a word.
“Cum, pleaseplease, I have to-,” you whimpered when the tip of his cock was slamming against your sweet spot. Tears started to form in your eyes. You didn’t think it was possible to cum with only thrusting, but here he was, proving you wrong.
Your hands tugged at his jacket, your knuckles turning white from the force. He was such a view. Shirtless, his well-put hair now messy, smirk too dangerous, too handsome.
“It’s ok pretty girl, you can cum. Cum all over my cock. Show me how good I made you feel.” His voice plus his breath against your cheek did it for you. Your whole body tensed while you felt the pleasure roaming all over your body, leaving you numb.
It didn’t take him long to also cum, your pussy squeezing him soooo good. You could only feel his cock pulse, and his breathing was uneven. Each thrust started to become erratic. You wouldn’t tell him, but the overstimulation was feeling a little too good. With one final thrust, he filled you up with his thick cum.
“Shit.” He said while resting his head on your shoulder. “I didn’t mean to-“ You only shook your head.
“It’s ok.” You whispered. Your mind was hazy, and everything felt unreal. You were coming down from your high, body too weak to even be able to stand up properly. Thankfully, the man’s strong arms were preventing you from falling to the floor.
The sound of a transponder snail brought you back to reality.
“What happened?” He said as soon as he answered.
“Sir, pirates. Near the execution platform.” Pirates? Your gut told you, somehow, that your captain was involved. And the fact that the man who had just blown your mind a few minutes ago was receiving this call made you realize you had just made a mistake. A big one.
“Got it. See you there.” He ended the call and looked directly into your shocked eyes. “Gotta go pretty. Kinda bumbed out I have to leave you after this. But work’s calling.”
“Work?” You cleared your throat. “You are… You are… a marine.” You finally managed to say. The words felt heavy on your tongue.
“Smart.” He chuckled while he slowly put you down, making sure you were strong enough to stand on your own, and fixed your skirt. “I kinda wish we weren’t interrupted. But I really have to go.” He moved to the side the strands of hair that were covering your face to look at you one more time. You could feel his load drip down your thighs.
You wanted to say something to him, but you couldn’t really come up with anything, so you just nodded.
“I hope we meet again.” Oh, you were sure you were going to meet again.
A/N: He was so distracting while watching OPLA S2, my god I need him really bad. btw this was supposed to be posted yesterday, but i finished s2 yesterday and i was a crying mess and i was just too tired. s2 is just perfect!!!
birbs if u wrote for sir crocodile and wearing his big coat when he goes to town on you, I will swear to you my allegiance and the first child he sires to me
SIR CROCODILE supposes he deserves this.
You lean back on your palms, manicured fingers mingling amongst the papers, reports, and correspondence scattered across the large, oak desk. That wedding ring on your finger glimmers in the low light of his office.
You cross your legs, drag a black, high-heeled toe close to the tension in his slacks, and bat your lashes. He’s leaned back in his desk chair, thighs spread.
“You’ve been busy,” you ask, all honeyed and soft as your eyes skate across his face, “...Too busy for your wife?”
Ah. So that’s what this is about.
He owes you an answer, but he’s distracted. He chews idly on the cigar perched between his teeth. You watch him roll his jaw when you lean forward enough to emphasize the swell of your chest. He may be a once-Warlord, fallen Desert King, but he is only a man. And you are his wife. His pretty, little, neglected wife.
Crocodile’s flat gaze drags across your soft curves. His attention hitches on the deep purple of the lingerie, the lace. The clasps holding your sheer stockings up are gold, and they dig into the swell of your thighs.
A big, rough, ringed hand reaches to trace the curve of your knee. Gentle. Coaxing.
“Is that it?” he rumbles, leaning forward as smoke curls around him; he’s smirking as his hands trail upwards and smooth over your thighs, “Is my little love feeling a bit ignored? Needy? So, she goes and spends my money on pretty lace—”
In a rare show of defiance, you slap his hand. Gentle, but still — a warning. His brows climb his face, and he looks up from your legs to find that you’re… oh. You’re pouting. A real, true pout — the sort that makes his heart twist. You read his words as condescending.
He realizes, almost a beat too late, that you’re… fuck, you’re upset. You’re upset with him.
He is Sir Crococile. There are a handful of titles attached to his name, sure, but right now, he doesn’t give a damn about any of them. The only one that matters is ‘husband’. There are, in his eyes, few titles more important than this one.
And, damn it, he is weak for very few things like that sad pout of yours.
You suppose, though, that you can’t be that upset with him — not when stubs out his cigar and whisks you away to that loveseat by the balcony to lay you upon his fur coat. Not when he slips to his knees (even if they creak and ache), not when he pays careful mind to unwrapping you like some pretty gift.
“Will you forgive me?” he asks against the soft flesh of your inner thigh as his long nose skims your skin. His eyes never leave yours.
You will, you concede. You'll forgive him.
Because, really, you’ve never been able to stay mad at him. You certainly can’t stay mad with his wicked mouth on your sex and two thick, ringed fingers working you open. You cannot stay mad when he murmurs out praise, when he drapes your leg over his wide shoulder. Your fingers twine into the soft fur beneath you and the ink-black hair on his head as you bow.
He wrings a gasp out of you, smirks against your clit, and you forget you were ever mad at him at all.
“I am,” he rasps as you come, “Never too busy for you.”
other pirates / antagonists - m!one piece x chubby fem!reader
He pulls you back onto him when you try to crawl away from overstimulation
featuring. shanks, dracule mihawk, donquixote doflamingo, charlotte katakuri, crocodile, caesar clown, buggy, smoker
cw/tags (19+ Only | Minors DNI). explicit smut, pwp, vaginal penetration, overstimulation, inappropriate use of devil fruits, cnc, dirty talk
Shanks
Shanks had you on your back, legs wrapped around his waist as he moved inside you with slow, deliberate rolls of his hips.
His cock dragged along your walls at an almost torturous pace, stretching you open so perfectly with every deep, lazy thrust. He savored the way your soft curves trembled beneath him, how your plush thighs squeezed around him, and the little gasps you made each time he ground against that sweet spot of yours.
"Easy now, sweetheart," he murmured against your neck, voice low and warm with that signature grin. "No need to rush... I could stay buried in you like this all night."
His hand roamed appreciatively over the soft swell of your stomach, squeezing gently, then moved up to cup one of your tits as he kept up his unhurried rhythm. The pleasure built gradually, wave after wave, until it became too much and your nerves felt raw, oversensitive from how long he'd been edging you like this.
"Shanks--nngh, please--it's too much," you whimpered, pushing weakly at his chest.
You twisted beneath him and started crawling away on shaky arms, trying to escape the overwhelming intensity.
A playful, husky chuckle escaped him.
Before you could get far, his arm wrapped around your waist and yanked you right back toward him and he pinned you down into the bed in one smooth motion and pulled your hips up high.
"Oh no you don't," Shanks laughed, voice thick with teasing affection. "You're not slipping away from me that easy."
He lined himself up and slammed his cock back inside you in one hard thrust, bottoming out deep. The sudden roughness made you cry out into the sheets.
His pace shifted instantly, no longer slow and lazy. He started pounding into you with powerful, relentless snaps of his hips, the wet slap of skin against skin filling the room. Your soft curves bounced and jiggled with every brutal thrust, ass rippling as he drove into your soaked pussy.
"Fuuuck, you feel incredible," he groaned, gripping your hip tightly, fingers sinking into plush flesh. "All warm and tight... squeezing me so good even when you're trying to get away."
You sobbed from the overstimulation, legs shaking hard, but Shanks kept you anchored in place. His hand slid under you to grope your stomach lovingly while simultaneously yanking you back onto his cock with each forward thrust.
He leaned over your back, red hair tickling your skin as he nipped at your shoulder.
"C'mon, baby... don't fight it," he teased breathlessly, voice still carrying that warm, cheeky tone even as he railed you harder. "I know you can take it. My pretty girl always does ♥"
He angled his hips to hit your sweet spot over and over, fucking you with rough, confident strokes. Sweat slicked your bodies as he kept up the intense rhythm, clearly loving how overwhelmed and messy you were for him.
Every time you tried to squirm forward even a little, he just laughed softly and pulled you right back, burying himself deeper.
"That's it... let me hear those pretty sounds," he praised, voice husky. "You're not going anywhere until I've had my fill of this perfect body."
Dracule Mihawk
Mihawk had you pinned beneath him in a deep mating press, his movements slow and precise as he rolled his hips.
His cock slid in and out of your creaming pussy with controlled depth, dragging against every sensitive ridge inside you. He watched your face intently with those sharp golden eyes as one large hand rested possessively on the plush swell of your stomach, fingers occasionally pressing down hard until he could feel himself moving inside you.
"You are trembling already," he observed quietly, voice low and composed. "Yet your body continues to pull me deeper."
The slow, intense rhythm had gone on for so long that pleasure had turned into overwhelming overstimulation. Every stroke felt like too much, your walls fluttering and twitching around his cock as tears gathered in your eyes.
"Mihawk, L-love--I need a moment--" you gasped, voice breaking.
You pushed against his chest and twisted away, managing to slip from his grasp just enough to roll onto your stomach. On trembling legs, you started crawling toward the edge of the bed, desperate for relief.
You could hear a quiet exhale from behind you before his hand shot out with lightning speed, fingers wrapping firmly around your thick ankle. With one powerful tug, Mihawk yanked you back across the sheets until he had you where he wanted again.
"Escaping me?" His velvet voice murmured, laced with subtle amusement. "How foolish."
He flipped you onto all fours and mounted you instantly with no warming and slammed his cock back inside you in one brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt. The sudden roughness ripped a strangled moan out of you.
Mihawk began fucking you hard, hips snapping forward with raw power and precision. Each punishing thrust made your plush thighs and ass ripple violently, your tits jostling beneath you while being pressed into the mattress.
"You will not run," he growled low, one hand fisting your hair to arch your back while the other gripped your soft hip hard enough to leave marks. He pulled you back onto his cock with every forward drive, his balls tapping at your clit, stimulating you even further.
Your body shook uncontrollably from the overstimulation, but Mihawk showed no mercy. He railed you with deep, devastating strokes, angling perfectly to hit that sensitive spot inside you without fail.
"So soft and warm around me," he murmured, voice strained yet still controlled. "Yet so greedy. You can take more of this."
He leaned over your back, teeth sinking sharply into your shoulder as he pounded harder. Sweat glistened on your skin as he kept you locked in place, refusing to let even an inch of distance form between you.
Every time you tried to crawl forward even slightly, his grip tightened and he dragged you right back, impaling you deeper on his thick cock. His breathing grew heavier against your neck, but his rhythm remained relentless and dominant.
"Stay," he commanded quietly, voice rough with lust. "You will come again for me like this. I want to feel you fall apart while I take what is mine."
Mihawk's intense gaze burned into you as he continued, wringing every broken moan and shudder from you with masterful control.
Donquixote Doflamingo
Doflamingo lounged back against the headboard with a lazy grin while you straddled him, riding his cock with exhausted rolls of your hips.
Your thighs burned as you ground down on his cock, barely able to do more than slow, tired circles. Sweat glistened on your body as your tits bounced with each weak movement. He watched you with amusement, hands resting behind his head like he was enjoying a show.
"Fufufu... getting tired already?" he teased, voice low and mocking. "Keep moving, little dove. I want to feel you work for it."
The overstimulation had crept up slowly. Your pussy was swollen and hypersensitive, every grind sending sharp sparks through your exhausted body. You couldn't take any more.
"Doffy... I can't--" you whined with a hiccup.
You tried to lift yourself off him, but your shaky legs gave out, impaling yourself again by accident. Desperate, you slid sideways and started crawling away across the large bed as your body quivered with each movement.
"Oh? You think we’re done here?"
Thin strings shot out instantly, wrapping tightly around your wrists, ankles, and waist. With a sharp tug, Doflamingo dragged you right back across the sheets like a helpless puppet, flipping you onto your back in front of him.
"You're not finished yet~" he sang, grinning wide.
More strings lifted your legs high, spreading your thick thighs obscenely wide and folding your knees toward your chest. He used the strings like marionette wires to lift you off the bed and over him, before dropping and impaling you on his cock in one brutal motion.
You screamed as he filled you completely.
No more slow grinding, he was over that. He immediately started fucking you with vicious, upward thrusts, using the strings to slam your body down onto his cock in perfect time with his hips. Your whole body bounced with every savage impact.
"Fufufu! Look at you," he laughed breathlessly, eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure behind his glasses. "All spread open and helpless on my cock. This is how I like you best."
The strings kept your legs locked wide and high, completely controlling your movements as he railed you mercilessly. Every hard thrust punched deep, the wet slap of your bodies loud and filthy. He used another set of strings to pinch and tug at your nipples while one teased at your swollen clit.
"Struggle all you want," he growled, voice thick with lust. "These strings aren't letting you go anywhere until this cunt is ruined."
He brought you down harder with the strings, impaling you deeper with every snap of his hips. Your plush body jolted violently as he fucked you like a toy, his grin never fading.
"Cry louder for me," he demanded, laughing darkly. "I love how you tremble when you're overwhelmed. Such a perfect little plaything~♥"
Doflamingo kept you suspended and spread, strings digging into your soft flesh as he pounded upward without mercy. He was lost in the thrill of controlling every inch of your pleasure, dragging out your overstimulation until you were a broken, dripping mess.
Charlotte Katakuri
Katakuri had you in his lap, facing him as he guided your movements with his hands on your hips as his massive cock stretched you wide while he rolled his hips upward in shallow, measured thrusts.
Even in the heat of it, his expression remained mostly composed, though his eyes softened with rare affection as he watched your body move against him. Your tits were pressed warmly against his broad chest while your stomach squishing against his abs with every slow grind.
"You are doing so well," he praised, voice low and steady, almost soothing. "Taking me so deeply..." although he was barely half way inside of you.
But the long session had pushed you past your limit. Pleasure had turned into overwhelming overstimulation as your pussy fluttered and clenched uncontrollably around him. Your thighs shook violently against his sides.
"Katakuri--I’m so full--I can’t take much more of this…" you breathed through gritted teeth, looking at where the two of you remained connected.
You pushed against his chest and slid off him, stumbling across the large bed, desperate for a moment to recover.
His right arm transformed into flowing mochi and the sticky, flexible substance stretched across the distance and wrapped firmly around your waist and thighs. With a gentle, controlled pull, he dragged you back toward him, the mochi gently but inescapably binding your soft body.
"No, not when you need this as much as I do," he said calmly before he flipped you onto your back and loomed over you.
More mochi extended from his shoulders, wrapping around your wrists and pinning them above your head while another thick strand looped under your knees. He folded your thick thighs high and wide, spreading you completely open.
Then he pushed his cock back into your pussy with one powerful thrust, burying himself completely unlike before. The sudden pressure of your body adjusting to his full length ripped a loud cry from you.
His pace turned more rough and demanding as he used his strength to slam his hips forward as though trying to get himself even deeper than he already was.
The mochi held you perfectly in place, keeping your legs spread wide and your arms restrained. Despite the roughness, his touch remained protective, almost reverent as he watched your reactions closely.
"You are so soft and warm," he growled quietly, voice strained but still composed. "So perfect like this... overwhelmed and full of me."
With his size it was impossible not to brush your sweet spot with each movement, making tears spill down your cheeks as your body shook hard in his restraints, but Katakuri did not relent.
"You feel incredible when you squeeze around me like this," he praised, leaning down to press a surprisingly tender kiss to your forehead even as he pounded into you. "Let go. I will hold you through it."
His thrusts grew even harder, the bed creaking loudly beneath you both. He kept you completely trapped in his embrace, refusing to let you escape the pleasure he was determined to give you.
"I want to feel you come apart again... my beautiful, soft girl."
Katakuri's intense gaze never left your face for long as he drove into you relentlessly, using his mochi to keep you locked exactly where he wanted while he chased for your release.
Crocodile
Crocodile had you bent over the edge of the bed with your upper body pressed into the silk sheets as he took you from behind.
His cock stretched you open with each deep, controlled thrust, the weight of his body keeping you pinned. One large hand gripped your soft hip while his golden hook rested against the plush curve of your ass, cool metal teasing your heated skin.
"There we go... just like that," he drawled, voice low and smug. "You're going to take every inch until I decide otherwise."
The long, unhurried pace had pushed you into dangerous territory as every slow drag of his cock made your nerves scream as your legs shook beneath him.
"Fuck~♥” you swore, gripping the sheets below you. “I’m getting too sensitive, show a bit of mercy Croc--" you plead died with a moan as he hit your sweet spot dead on.
You clawed at the sheets and tried to crawl forward unsuccessful, unable to pull yourself off of his cock in your frantic attempt for relief.
"Mercy? From me?"
Sand suddenly burst from his left hand, swirling around your waist and thighs, stopping you in your attempt to get away.
"You're not going anywhere until I've had my fill," he growled smugly.
Before you could recover, his hook slid around the front of your neck and pulled you upright onto your knees, pressing your back flush against his chest. The curved metal rested firmly under your chin, keeping you arched and trapped.
"Pathetic thing," he laughed darkly into your ear. "Begging for mercy while this greedy cunt keeps sucking me in."
He immediately started pounding into you, hips snapping upward hard and deep. Your soft body jolted violently in this new position, tits bouncing wildly, plush stomach shaking with every brutal thrust.
His free hand reached around to roughly grope and squeeze your tits, pinching your nipples hard while his hook kept your neck secured against him. The new angle let him drive even deeper, hitting that sensitive spot even harder than before.
"Look at these tits bouncing for me," he growled smugly, voice thick with lust as he kneaded and slapped the soft flesh. "So perfect... made to be played with while I take you how I want."
You moan loudly from the overwhelming overstimulation, but Crocodile only fucked you harder. The sand around your thighs kept your legs spread wide as he railed you relentlessly from behind.
"You don't get to run from what you asked for this morning, remember?" he growled, voice rough with lust. "You said it yourself that this body is mine to use... and I'm nowhere near done with you."
Every powerful thrust made your body ripple. His hand continued mauling your tits, tugging your nipples and squeezing the plush flesh as he pounded upward without mercy. The hook under your neck kept you perfectly displayed and helpless.
"It's like you were made to be fucked like this."
He kept you locked in the kneeling position as his low, mocking laughter mixed with your broken cries as he dragged out your overstimulation, clearly savoring every tremble.
Caesar Clown
Caesar had you on all fours while he fucked you with steady, rhythmic thrusts at a brisk consistent pace, each one perfectly angled as he continued his 'experiment' that had already been going for well over 2 hours.
His dug his fingers into your hips while he observed every twitch and moan, constantly fine-tuning his movements like the dedicated scientist he was.
"Shurororo~ Yes! Look at those beautiful reactions!" he cackled. "Your pussy is clenching so perfectly around me.--Such excellent data!"
This relentless pace he kept up for more than sixty minutes had completely destroyed you. Your nerves were fried raw from the extended session as he exploited every sensitive spot.
"Caesar--ahh--it's too much, I can't handle it anymore--" you begged, voice shaking and desperate.
You lunged forward and tried to scramble away for any relief from the overwhelming intensity.
"Oh no you don't! You're not ruining my experiment!"
Thick pinkish aphrodisiac gas suddenly burst out from Caesar's body, flooding the air and filling your lungs. The gas hit your senses instantly, making your skin burn hotter and pussy throb with desperate, aching need as your mind grew foggy with forced arousal.
Even as you felt overstimulated, the gas made you crave him even more.
Before you could crawl another inch, Caesar's fingers wrapped around your waist and yanked you back hard. He dragged your body right back to him, flipping you onto your back with a wide grin.
"Shurororo! That's it--breathe it in deeper," he cackled, eyes gleaming with chaotic delight. "My special aphrodisiac will make you need my cock even more~"
He slammed his cock back into your pussy, forcing a loud, broken moan from your throat. His pace instantly became fast and punishing as he started fucking you erratically.
Your tits bounced with every thrust while the aphrodisiac gas continued pouring into the room, making every sensation feel electric and unbearable.
"You feel that? Your body is begging for me now!" Caesar groaned, voice whiny yet dominant as he pounded into you. "Look at you trembling and dripping... so insightful!"
He leaned over you, his hands pinning your wrists to the bed.
"Trying to crawl away from me? How rude!" he laughed breathlessly. "Now you're going to cum until you can't think straight. All thanks to my genius gas~"
The mix of his rough, frantic pounding and the overwhelming aphrodisiac left you sobbing and moaning uncontrollably as your body burned with desperate need.
Caesar kept you trapped beneath him, fucking you like a madman lost in his favorite experiment. Which he was, to be fair.
"This cunt is going to milk me dry while you lose your mind for me."
Buggy
Buggy had you on your stomach with his cock buried deep inside you as he fucked you with frantic, desperate thrusts.
His torso floated above you while his hips slammed against your ass, driving his cock into your creaming pussy. You were filled to the brim and dripping messily with both your releases, the obscene wet sounds loud with every thrust.
"This is the best pussy in the Grand Line, I swear!" he moaned loudly, voice cracking.
"I can't--Buggy Baby--I need a second--PleEEase" you gasped, voice breaking.
You started crawling forward, trying to escape his relentless cock.
A high-pitched, whimper tore out of Buggy the moment he felt your pussy pull away from him.
"Wait--no! D-Don't leave me like this!"
His floating upper body zipped forward and pushed down hard on your shoulders, forcing your plush body back onto his thrusting hips. At the same time, his detached hands floated around to your front, greedily grabbing your tits and roughly pinching and tugging at your sensitive nipples.
"Mmmph--fuck, you feel so good~♥" he whimpered. His head floated beside yours, capturing your lips in a sloppy, messy kiss, tongue pushing deep as he drooled into your mouth.
You tried to crawl away again, pushing forward with a broken sob, which Buggy matched.
"Nooo--come back!"
His cock suddenly detached completely, staying buried deep inside your dripping pussy and continued to thrust on its own with frantic energy.
His full body, save for his cock and hands, quickly reassembled behind you as sat back on his knees, eyes wide and glassy as he watched you.
His detached cock, now free from his hips, started ramming into you even harder and deeper than before, with no body to restrict the motion, allowing it to piston wildly and reach impossibly deep with every stroke.
"Fuuuck--look at you," Buggy moaned breathlessly, voice trembling as he watched your soft body writhe and jolt in pleasure. His floating hands continued twisting and pinching your nipples. "You're losing it... shit, you look so hot like this."
He stayed back and watched greedily, biting his lip as his detached cock slammed into you relentlessly, pushing more of your mixed releases out with every thrust. His hands kept tugging and rolling your nipples as he took in every tremble and broken moan you let you.
"J-just a little more, baby, please..." he begged, voice. "I can't stop yet... you look too perfect taking me like this ♥"
Even as his own body shook from overstimulation, Buggy remained fixated on the sight of you falling apart for him.
Smoker
Smoker had you bent over his wooden desk with your tits and stomach squished against scattered documents as he fucked you from behind.
His cock stretched you with every heavy stroke, the desk groaning under the intensity. Two cigars burned between his teeth, smoke lazily drifting through the room while the windows were already completely covered in a thick white haze for privacy.
"Always so damn needy," he grunted, one rough hand gripping your plush hip as he drove into you. "You're making a mess of my desk... again."
The relentless rhythm had quickly pushed you into overstimulation. Your pussy throbbed, hypersensitive and twitching around his girth with every deep drag.
"Nngh~♥ W-Wait--slow down, my body can't--eeii!--handle this--" you gasped in broken pieces.
You pushed your hands against the desk and tried to crawl forward, desperate to escape the intense pleasure flooding your body.
"You're not going anywhere," he grunted.
A single hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you back against his hips, burying his cock deep inside again in one motion.
That was the only warning you got before he started fucking you harder, hips snapping forward, making your body rippled wildly against the desk. Then he leaned over you, smoke curling from his mouth as he spoke against your ear.
"Keep trying to crawl away and I'll clear the smoke from that window, press you right up against the glass and fuck you there instead.--Let every marine outside see how well this slutty body takes my cock."
The threat made you clench hard around him.
Smoker let out a surprised, rough groan, his hips faltering for a moment.
"Shit... you just got tighter," he muttered, sounding both annoyed and smug. "You really like that idea? Heh, you filthy girl."
He immediately picked up the pace, pounding into you with deep, brutal strokes. Thick smoke tendrils slipped under your body, one pressing firmly against your swollen clit while another teased your nipples, adding sharp stimulation while he railed you.
"Making such a mess..." he grumbled, gripping your hip tighter. "and dripping all over my reports... yet still squeezing me like you want me to follow through on that threat."
You sobbed into the desk from the overwhelming sensation, his gruff words ringing in your ears. Your legs shook violently, but Smoker kept you pinned in place, refusing to let you escape even an inch.
"Stay right there," he ordered. "--Or I'll live up to my word, it's your decision."
TAG LIST: @matronofthevoid | @demodemigodness12
a/n. *throws another smut genade during lunch and flees to answer work emails* I rushed editing because this is well over a month late since I was practicing me smut writing, any mistakes are what they areeeeee
Author's note: Smut - fingering that leads to fucking. ~2.3k words. Ace fingers (afab) reader from behind and then they have sex. Pet names. (o˘◡˘o) (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ I hope you like it!!
Ace gets riled up when you wear skirts
“Hey gorgeous.” Ace leaned down from behind where you were sitting and hummed in your ear. His voice melted like honey and went straight to your heart. You were sitting on the couch scrolling on your phone, relaxing while you had a few free moments.
You smiled at him and gave him a quick kiss… but that wasn’t enough right now. Ace needed more than that. Seeing you sit so cutely on the couch, with your skirt thrown over your thighs, your pretty fingers scrolling through your phone… it awoke something in him.
Your presence could flip the switch in Ace’s mind immediately—he’d go from sweet and smiling to desperate for a crumb of your pleasure. You never knew what you were going to get with him, but recently it had been the latter. He hadn’t been able to keep his hands off you.
Every spare moment Ace would pull you into a bathroom and bend you over, pull you into a closet and fuck you standing up, drag you up to the crow’s nest and demand reverse cowgirl in the open air... Skirts made his fantasies more forceful.
You could say he had something of a skirt kink, or at least, seeing you in a skirt sent him over the edge. He would imagine pulling the skirt up around your waist and gripping it tight while he fucked you, using it for leverage. He would imagine flipping the skirt over so your ass was exposed to the bare air, pulling the skirt back and spanking your ass so hard it bruised. He would imagine fingering you under the skirt when no one was looking... he had any number of fantasies at one time about you in a skirt.
That's why the sight of you sitting on the couch in your skirt lit a fire in Ace’s core, one that he wouldn’t be able to shake until he had his fill of you.
Ace leaned over you from behind and kissed the top of your head. Surprisingly, he then wrapped his left hand lightly around your throat. You let out a yelp in response. “Ace, what are you doing?”
“I want you.” He rasped in your ear and his free hand crept down the couch, over your chest and stomach to rest on your crotch. His hand lingered on top of the fabric of your skirt. No matter how many times you and Ace were intimate, his closeness made your stomach twist with butterflies. His arms were toned, defined, hard, manly, and his hands, much the same. His thick fingers rested softly on your skirt, sending bolts of electricity straight to your core. His honeyed voice put you at ease, but you could hear the desire and need plainly when he spoke.
Ace palmed your crotch and grinded down through your skirt firmly. You whined and squirmed a bit as friction built on your clit. “Ace, everyone will see.”
“No they won’t, I promise,” Ace whispered sweetly back in your ear. His voice was dripping with desire, sugar-coated, but underlined with a note of desperation. You knew he was about to fuck you senseless.
“Okay, if you say so…” You agreed tentatively, trailing off.
“Put those legs up, honey.” He commanded you charmingly, and you lifted your legs up, propping them on the couch so they were spread wide and your knees were pulled up by your chest.
“Let’s get this out of the way,” Ace murmured in your ear again and picked up the hem of your skirt, pulling it back, exposing your panties. He shifted your skirt up, so it pooled around your waist. You felt exposed and embarrassed. Seeing you in this position, spread open for him, skirt pulled askew, panties uncovered... Ace felt feral.
When he had adjusted your skirt, his fingers came back to rest on your clit over your panties. He tightened the grip on your neck ever so slightly, eliciting a soft gasp from your lips. He was so sweet and yet he could be so rough on you—he’d do the nastiest things to you, all while calling you lovely names and petting your head. You loved how he doted on you and how he was obsessed with you—for Ace, it translated into a desire to make you feel good. He wanted you to be in ecstasy from his touch, wanted you to transcend to new levels of pleasure that you never knew, all because of him. Whenever your face twisted in pleasure it made him as hard as a rock, his cock pulsing in his shorts, pressing on his briefs trying to escape.
Your gasping as he tightened his grip was one of those moments. Even the most muted of sounds of pleasure coming from you made Ace feel like he was one step away from either cumming in his pants or ripping all your clothes off and fucking you. He had to use discipline though, to not get too worked up. Your pleasure was his first priority, of course.
Ace slowly started to rub his fingers in circles around your clit. The fabric of your panties rubbed roughly on your sensitive spot, his fingers dragging the material up and down through your lips. Your wetness started to seep out and saturate the fabric, helping his fingers glide over and work through the barrier to your bare pussy with ease.
“Getting excited already?” He purred into your ear and your stomach twisted again. You were, in fact, getting excited already. Your heartbeat was starting to raise, you were hyperaware of his every move, and you were braced for the pleasure you knew he was going to wrench from your core.
Ace’s fingers trailed upwards, and hooked your panties down. Meanwhile his left hand gave your throat one last squeeze and then wandered to your chest, massaging and kneading your breasts.
At the same time, Ace started kissing your neck, sucking on it lightly, then nibbling on it. You felt electric. He was everywhere at once—on your chest, on your neck, rumbling in your ears, you could smell his shampoo, feel the warmth from his skin as bent over the back of the couch to touch you.
His fingers crept into your panties and started toying with your sensitive folds that were becoming increasingly inflamed and red. Wetness oozed out of you, and Ace noticed as he leisurely passed his fingers up, over your clit, pausing and pressing there for a moment, then returning back to dance around your opening.
“Are you ready, princess?” He asked, and when you nodded timidly he inserted his middle finger, slowly pushing it into you as you shuddered around him. It felt amazing because he knew your body so well. Making you feel good was an art form to him. He spoke the language of your pleasure, knew your body inside and out, adjusted his movements to the neediness of your moans and gasps, played with you until you got to the precipice of climax.
As one finger ventured inside you, he could feel your walls constrict. You let out another sweet moan and Ace started to go feral; he could feel himself losing control. He sucked on your neck harshly, squeezed your breasts so hard it hurt, and started to move the finger inside of you up and down, inside and out.
He was reading your pleasure, calculating how to make you feel the best. His finger felt the ridges of your insides, the smooth slipperiness of your slick, your spasms of pleasure; he noticed when your thighs tensed up, when your breaths got shallower and quicker, and when your gasps got even the tiniest bit more needy.
When he saw it appropriate, Ace inserted his ring finger, drawing another groan from your lips. His fingers opened and closed like scissors inside of you, stretching you out for him, getting you ready. He curled his fingers and immediately located your sweet spot. Ace wasted no time pressing, pushing, circling, and bullying your g-spot until your wetness dripped out of your pussy, coating his fingers and hand, seeping down onto the couch and leaving a mess.
“Mmmmm,” Ace hummed as his fingers worked. “Does that feel good?”
Of course it did. Your legs were already trembling. He knew how to bring you to the brink of orgasm in minutes and had no trouble touching you until you were begging for more. His fingers felt magical.
“Ace,” you choked out. “Need you in me—please.”
“I’m sure you do, baby.” He sucked on your neck one more time and pulled his fingers out of you, soaked and slippery.
“Open up, pretty.” Ace politely waited a moment and then shoved his fingers unceremoniously into your mouth, making you suck your own slick off of him. He was so unbelievably turned on. His erection was painfully tight; he needed friction, wanted to fuck you so bad, to cum in you, cum on you, make you feel so good.
Ace needed you carnally, beyond imagination—he wanted to fuck you until you couldn’t speak anymore, until you couldn’t walk straight, he wanted to make you beg and moan until your voice went hoarse, he wanted to make you orgasm again and again and again.
When you had sucked his fingers dry, the sweet taste of yourself lingered in your mouth. Ace grabbed your face with his hand pulled it close to him, smashing his lips into yours. You let out a muffled moan as your lips met and Ace felt his dick twinge. He pulled out of the kiss after a minute and rounded the couch so he was now facing you.
He leaned down to grab ahold of your hips. “C’mere.”
Ace picked you up swiftly and effortlessly. It was amazing how strong he was and how much he liked to throw you around like a doll. He treated you delicately, but at the same time he would fuck you hard and carelessly. The dichotomy was perfect for you two—vicious and loving, naughty and nice, both options present at any given time and just as welcomed as the other.
Ace lifted you up and your legs wrapped around him on instinct. The skirt draped unevenly across your ass and bunched up in front of you. The messy look turned Ace on arduously. His strong hands were cupping your ass, and he lined up his cock with your dripping wet cunt. He was losing patience. He needed to be in you immediately, needed to fuck you as soon as possible.
“Ready sweetie?” He looked at your face and saw that it was already contorted in pleasure. He couldn’t wait to fuck you so hard you drooled. He couldn’t wait to hear you moan his name on repeat. He needed to be inside of you now.
You nodded in response, desperate for him.
He wasted no time. Ace pushed the tip of his huge cock into you slowly. It passed through your folds, slippery and red, filling you up centimeters at a time. It was an overwhelming feeling, so sensual and satisfying. You adjusted to his girth and length with each second, constricting around his cock, your body remembering the shape of it. When he bottomed out, he let out a low and long groan. “Fuuuuck, baby.”
Ace started bouncing you on his cock, languidly, steady, and deliberate at first. He wanted to tease you, wanted to see you writhe from it, wanted you to want him so bad you begged. Ace was in control now, just as he liked it. And you were along for the ride, which you knew would end in an orgasm so powerful that you would lose your mind.
As you took his cock, nasty, wet, and sloppy sounds started echoing in the room. The sound of his balls slapping onto your wet ass and pussy rang in your ears. He grunted, rumbled in pleasure, and you could feel it in his chest. Your tits were pressed on him, hands clasped behind his neck, legs wrapped around him, toes curling in pleasure. He had you right where he wanted you, and now he was going to ravage your body like a last meal.
Ace sped up his fucking at a measured pace. He started bouncing you quicker, deeper, thrusting his cock up into you as he bounced you. He was bullying your g-spot, you could feel his dick curve inside of you, painting your walls with precum, gliding in and out, leaving pleasure in its wake. He was stretching you and fucking you into oblivion already. Wetness seeped out of you, down onto his shaft, over his balls, dripping on the floor.
His measured pace was driving you crazy. It wasn’t merely enough. “Accceeeee,” you moaned out. “Harder.”
He complied. His cock hit deep and hard, fucking you senseless. Pleasure hit your g-spot spot in waves. His pace was becoming frenzied, unpredictable, driven on instinct alone.
“Do—you—like—that, princess?” Ace groaned, taking a breath between each furious thrust, pistoning up into your red and inflamed pussy. His cock needed more.
“More,” you meweled out in response. Your words sent his body into overdrive. His grip on your ass bruised, his grunts so loud they overpowered the sloppy wet sounds of him fucking you. His hips bucked and jerked up into you, dragging his cock everywhere inside of you, hitting your g-spot, brushing your cervix, sending pleasure to every nerve ending. You never felt so full before.
“Cum for me,” Ace groaned out, hips bucking, thighs shaking.
As he fucked you closer to orgasm his brow wrinkled and his head was thrown back. All he could focus on was how your body felt, what it needed, and how he could make you feel even better. He was assessing how each muscle moved, how you shifted and sighed into him, how wet you got every time he called you a sweet name. He could tell you were getting closer.
Ace lowered you onto your back on the couch, making sure his cock stayed buried inside of you. He pushed your knees up and held onto you, positioning you into a mating press. You looked up at him and your face was depraved, hungry for his cock, you locked eyes with him. The fucked-out look on your face drove him even crazier.
He was so gorgeous it took your breath away. He was sweaty, his black hair slightly ruffled and damp around the temples, his brows furrowed with focus and pleasure, his freckles just as sweet as ever. His nose crinkled a bit every time he thrusted or called you something sweet. And while he was undeniably fucking you senseless, roughly, and fiercely, his eyes still retained all the love he had for you.
Ace rolled his hips into your cunt, rutting his cock against your walls from a different angle this time. He could get deeper, harder, rougher now that he had the support of the couch under him. He grabbed your hips and pressed into you with such force it took your breath away. This was the deepest he had ever been.
“’M so close baby,” he rasped out and you whined in response.
“Me too,” you were breathless. He was making you feel so good it felt like you were melting. You were starting to lose touch with reality—he was the only thing on your mind, and you were completely present. You forgot about everything else in the world when Ace was fucking you.
“Wanna see you cum on my cock,” he grunted desperately as he thrusted into you again.
You whined as his hips crashed haphazardly into you. You finally started to reach your limit. With one more furious drag of his cock inside of you, Ace pushed you over the edge of climax and waves of pleasure washed over you, mindblowingly ecstatic. Your body convulsed.
You pulled him closer to you, moaning his name as your pussy clenched on his dick and you creamed on his cock. The pleasure he brought you with each orgasm was other-worldly. You never knew such a thing was possible until you met him, and every day that you spent near him you craved it more and more.
Ace could feel your walls pulsing and shuttering around his girth with your orgasm, and your pleasure drove him crazy. As you moaned his name again and again, Ace watched your face curl into an expression of bliss. You were doing precisely what he wanted—orgasming so hard and so sweetly that you felt like you left reality. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your panting drove him further into ferociously fucking you through your orgasm.
“’M cumming—” he groaned out, thrusting into you fitfully for one final moment, just barely overstimulating your sensitive insides. You shuddered and he groaned again, deeply and needily in response as he went over the edge. He shot sticky white ropes inside of you, so much that it started trickling out of you, a milky pool at the base of his cock. His orgasm was just as euphoric as yours.
After teasing himself and holding out for so long, when he let himself fuck you without regard for anything else he allowed himself to dissolve into pleasure completely. He felt like he was floating each time your velvet walls squeezed him, felt like he was going to levitate every time you moaned his name. Cumming so hard from your pleasure left him in the purest euphoria.
You went limp and Ace collapsed on your chest. After a moment of silence, after feeling the warmth and sweat of your bodies pressing on each other, Ace looked up at you. His cock was still inside.
“Fuck,” he panted out. You hummed in response, and he pulled you in for a clumsy kiss. He could feel your walls still shuddering from orgasm just slightly, returning back to normal, still accommodating his girth, leaking a mix of both of your cum from your pussy.
“That was so good, baby,” he said at the same time as pressing his lips onto yours, speaking into your mouth as your lips met. His tongue ventured into your mouth, barely swirling your own, as he sucked slightly and bit your lip. You let out one more moan for him, as you felt his cock twinge one last time.
He pulled out of the kiss at the same time as pulling out of you. You’d never get used to the feeling of emptiness after Ace had just filled you up and fucked you into oblivion. You pulled him into one last long kiss, staving off the moment when you would have to disentangle your bodies and put your clothes back on.
“Let’s go get you cleaned up, pretty girl.” Ace kissed your forehead again and scooped you up in his arms. He would deal with the noticeable stain on the couch later.
♡(>ᴗ•) (￣ω￣;) (っಠ‿ಠ)っ
That is all for now, I hope you liked it!! Thank u so much for reading and if you got this far i appreciate you so much (//▽//)
Ever since y/n joined the straw hats over 2 years ago, Luffy was attached to her hip. Luffy was always intrigued with y/n. The pair were always with one another, sharing secrets, getting a little too close, but they were just friends. Luffy was never sure why he was so infatuated with y/n. Maybe it was the fact that she smelled like sunflowers and vanilla, maybe it was her pretty plump lips, was it her curvy figure, or was it cause she was funny, caring, and sweet? He didn’t get it but y/n was always on his mind. He needed to focus on achieving his goal of becoming king of the pirates, he didn’t need to have most of his head filled with thought of y/n, but no matter how hard he tried his thoughts always circled back to her. He didn’t know why.
He was also very unsure why he felt like he could murder Zoro right now with his own swords, or the fact that he wanted to cut Sanji hands off with the kitchen knives he uses to cook his meals daily. The way Zoro wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer during the late night party the crew was having after leaving fishman island. Or the way Sanji has constantly been trying to get her attention. Granted that seems like basic Sanji behavior, something is just different after being separated for 2 years.
Luffys friendship with y/n wasn’t exactly classified as a friendship. Not with all the lingering touches, kisses on the cheeks, holding hands, even sneaking into each others beds at night just for cuddles. People didn’t just do these things with friends, they both knew that, but according to Luffy anytime he was asked, that’s all you were to him. A friend.
Luffy began to get frustrated with everyone asking what the relationship was between the pair. Luffy being asked the same question so many times made him feel like a bear being poked during hibernation. He wasn’t ready to accept any feelings he had for y/n himself, let alone admit it to the crew. Finally, Luffy snapped after Ussop asked for the last time what he thought about y/n. He looked down at the ground and said in a stern and serious tone, “She’s just another crew mate. You guys are annoying.” and walked away.
Y/n heard it. She never thought that words could hurt but it felt like her heart was ripped out and stomped on. She didn’t have the right to be upset though, they weren’t together, Y/n had said plenty times before that they were only friends. She didn’t know why her heart felt this way or why her face suddenly felt wet as she turned around to walk the other way. Maybe Luffy was having a bad day. Maybe y/n was overreacting, but the way her fists clenched until they turned white said everything she couldn’t say herself.
After a few days had passed since y/n heard how Luffy truly felt, and she began to distance herself from Luffy. She found things to do that weren’t next to or around him. She made sure she sat in at the opposite end of the dining table. She stopped sneaking into his bed and began locking her door at night. Was it petty? Yes. But she wasn’t ready to face him yet.
The day y/n was gonna confront Luffy on what he had said was the day that the crew first made it to Sabaody. There were immediately more important things to worry about. Ultimately the start of the adventure to the new world resulted in the separation of all the straw hats. Luffy could still remember the look in y/n’s eyes before she was sent to another island.
2 years passed at this point. The whole crew had changed with their looks, but nothing changed in anyone’s love and care for each other. Life basically just resumed for everyone. Aside from Luffy and y/n. Luffy and y/n were still lively but we’re doing some things together again. Laughing, doing stupid shit, and helping one another, but there was still unspoken tension from before they were separated. Luffy and y/n both looked more mature now but neither of them had the courage to talk about what was happening 2 years ago. The whole crew was so busy once finally getting on the sunny and making it to fishman island that there was no time for either of the two to speak their mind.
The crew had made it to Fishman island successfully and defeated Hody and his minions. On the voyage back up to the surface of the new world the crew decided to catch up, tell their stories, and drink in celebration of their victory. The night was lively and everyone was enjoying themselves, except Luffy. Sanji was overjoyed making y/n her drinks, giving her compliments, and basically just drooling over y/n and it was quite frankly, pissing Luffy off.
Y/n had a drink or two or three herself and felt pretty talkative. She made her rounds making an effort to talk to everyone about their own adventure and Luffy was happily waiting for y/n to notice him. Luffy had time to talk with everyone already but her. When she made it to Zoro, who had way too many drinks, the conversation was just too much for Luffys liking. Zoro was laughing too hard at her jokes, y/n was blushing too hard at some of his remarks, but the worst part was the “subtle” touches. Luffy watched as her hand found a spot on Zoros shoulder and Zoros arm snaked around her waist. Luffy was heated.
Luffy was reminded of all the times that those laughs and touches were for him. The times when story telling turned into cuddling, or the times the subtle touches turned into gentle kisses on the blush of cheeks or the tip of a nose. He was gonna go insane just thinking of y/n with anyone, let alone his best friend.. Luffy didn’t have the right to be mad though. You were just his friend, but Luffy thought you were acting like this on purpose, just to get under his skin. After slamming down his mug on the table, he stormed into the kitchen. Luffy didn’t even notice he caught the crews attention, not even y/n’s.
Luffy had been acting out of character ever since leaving Fishman island. The crew just assumed it was due to how much blood he lost from the fight and he was still trying to recoup from it. Y/n however, knew it had to be more than that. Without a second thought she removed Zoros arm and began to follow Luffy. She didn’t even look at Zoro much less give him an explanation, too focused on Luffy and making sure he was ok. Y/n was scared something had happened to Luffy, maybe he was still hurting, maybe someone upset him, but what about when he upset her? Mind filling up with tipsy thoughts, y/n’s anger from 2 years ago returned. Finally reaching the kitchen door she swung it open to look for Luffy.
Luffy was sitting at the bar in the kitchen, he looked up momentarily to meet y/n’s eyes before getting up and walking away without saying a word. Y/n couldn’t help but laugh. How stupid could he continue to make her feel? Why did she even come in this kitchen? Was it to comfort him or confront him? He wasn’t even trying to see what you wanted. Ever. Everything was always about Luffy. Y/n wasn’t about to let him just walk away. Not this time. Fuck that, he needed to know everything. And her liquor filled brain was going to make sure of it.
Y/n quickly followed Luffy. “Where ya headed captain? You didn’t miss your crew?…Aww big man can’t even talk to his crew mate?” Y/n continued on but Luffy was ignoring her. “Does your boo-boo hurt that much?… I just find it crazy that you can talk to everyone but me. Why is that cap?… Why is it just me you can’t talk to? You embarrassed of me Lu?” Luffy was walking away gritting his teeth and y/n was only getting angrier. “I’m sorry am I annoying you captain? I guess someone who’s just a crew mate should realize their place right?” Luffy had finally made it to his room without a word and opened his door. “Ya know maybe this was all a mistake. I should’ve just stayed on the deck with Zo-“ Y/n was immediately cut off by Luffy grabbing her arm, pulling her into his room, and slamming the door with her back pressed against it. She opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by her captain finally speaking.
“You talk a lot. Ya know that?” Luffy said pinning her against his door. His hands wrapped around her wrists to keep her in place while his knee made it between her separated legs. “I had peace and quiet for 2 whole years while we were separated..” Y/n felt herself heat up from embarrassment. She began to pull away before her tears could fall from her eyes. Luffy began to lean into her ear while still holding her in place “and I fuckin hated it…” her eyes widened as she released a tiny gasp while his body was pressed against hers in a sudden movement. “God I missed you so much y/n and you’ve been too busy with Zoro all night to even see me.” He began to muzzle his face if the crook of her neck. “Luffy I-“ y/n began but was cut off. “You’ve done enough talking don’t you think? Prancing around on the deck in those tight shorts, flirting with everyone like a slut, and you couldn’t even wave at your captain.” Slowly bringing his knee higher up to her clothed mound between her thighs. Y/n feels instantly sober at the touch. “You have no clue how long it took me to think about what I would say to you when I finally saw you again…” his lips began to leave light feathery kisses along y/n’s jaw, as his grip tightened “but I guess I can just show you what I feel.”
With those words Luffy pulled his face back and leaned his lips closer to y/n’s. Moving her head forward she closed the distance. It was sweet and slow. Lips slowly moving with one another finding a steady pace. His hands released their grip on her wrist and slowly slid to her waist, placing both hands on her hips. As y/n began to lean in farther, the kiss heats up. Tongues sliding along each other. Biting at each others lips. The kiss is becoming feverish as the pair are practically sucking faces at this point. Hands roaming each others bodies as y/n bends her knees slightly to rest her clothed pussy fully on Luffys knee. A shaky breath leaves her lips at the friction. Slowly grinding her hips down onto his knee as the kiss continues. Her arms are wrapped around his neck, bringing him impossibly closer as her breathing falters. Luffy pulls back, pressing his forehead to hers. “You gonna ride my leg to show me how much you missed me? Hehehe…Come on you can do better than that.” Luffys hands begin to guide her hips along his leg. “T-too many clothes” is all she could manage to say. Y/n couldn’t cum like this even though it felt nice, but Luffy was never a quitter.
“You’re right..” he said with a smirk. Luffy reached for the hem of y/n’s shirt, pulling it over her head and then doing the same with his. “That’s better.” He said with a chuckle. His hands came up to play with her hardened nipples. Gently coming to rub at them while she continued to dry hump his leg. Y/n leaned in for a kiss but Luffy pulled his face away. She whined in resilience. “Cum for me and I’ll give you what you want. Come on you missed your captain right?” He leaned in to lick and suck at her nipples. Y/n continued to drag herself on her captains leg and truthfully on the stimulation was getting her close. Her hands tugging at his hair while letting out breathy gasps and whines. Y/n could feel the heat building up in her stomach. Her movements began to stutter and Luffy took this as a sign. “Nobody can make you feel this good but me.” Moving his arms to wrap around her waist and lifting his knee higher, he began to suck on one nipple while tugging the other. Switching back and forth, Luffy began bounce her on his knee.
Eventually it all be came too much for y/n. The friction of Luffys knee, the bouncing, his hands on her, his mouth sucking at her nipples. The tight heat in her belly finally overflowed as she felt herself shaking on his knee. “Good job. I knew you could do it pretty girl.” He said picking her up and walking over to the bed gently laying her down. Luffy began removing the reminder of clothing y/n was wearing, leaving her bare in front of her captain. Blushing she moved her hand to slightly cover herself before Luffy moved her arms away. “Don’t get all shy on me now. I just wanna show you how much I missed you…” he’s on top of her spreading her legs again with hands folding her in half while moving his face closer to her wet pussy “this is what you wanted right? Some attention?”
He licks a fat stripe up y/ns pussy and she can no longer keep her voice down. Her whines and moans escaping without a second thought as Luffy continues to lap at her cunt. Flicking his tongue fast on her clit while taking two of his fingers and jamming them into her sipping wet hole. Y/n’s back arched off the bed as she gripped the sheets. “T-too much Luffy.” She said breathlessly. He ignored her keeping her folded in half with one hand on the back of her thigh, he sucked on her clit while his fingers pumped in and out. His fingers found a spongey spot inside her cunt and the cord in y/n’s belly snapped again as she spasmed on Luffys face.
He slurped up every single drop of her slick that leaked out until she was clean. Luffy slowed his pace a little bit but didn’t stop. Continually pumping his fingers in. Still lightly suckling at her clit. Y/n was breathless and twitching. The overstimulation was killing her but it felt too good to even stop him. Her hands slowly in gripping the sheets as she tried to move her hands to Luffys head that was still between her thighs. Once her hands made contact with his head he pulled away.
His face was covered in her wetness. His eyes were lidded and cock was begging to be released from his shorts. He looked just as pathetic as you. Luffy wanted her just as bad as she wanted him. Leaning up on her elbows Luffy met y/n halfway with his bare chest pressed against hers as their lips collided in a slow but needy kiss. Both parties releasing moans and groans from just how much they missed each other. They needed each other. Was this an extreme way of showing it? Yes but actions speak louder than words. “Captain?” Y/n finally pulled away to question the man she’s been after for 2 years. “Yea baby?” He responded breathlessly. “Please fuck me” she begged.
Tugging his shorts off, he laid on his back next to her. Her eyes wouldn’t leave his cock. It was so pretty. It was long with a dark pinkish brownish tip that was glistening with precum. “Why don’t you get on here and apologize instead?” he said with the biggest smirk, already pulling y/n up and hovering her pussy over his cock. Hands on her hips as he glides her soaking pussy over his aching cock. “F-fuck y/n, go ahead and say you’re sorry so I can fuck you how you want.” The pleasure was intense but y/n didn’t forget that Luffy started this. Grinding her hips down to meet his as his tip kisses her clit perfectly each time they meet one another’s movements. “I think you should apologize C-captain, fuck. You’re the one who said I’m only a crew mate to you.” They were both stupid and moaning in desperation but they were equal in stubbornness. “You know and I know that’s a lie y/n. I’m sorry I ain’t say it sooner ~fuck~ but you never told me you felt some type of way.” Luffy isn’t making this any easier for himself, he would cum right now if he didn’t wanna fuck y/n so bad. The lewd wet noises were getting to them both. “That’s all I needed to hear Lu~ I’m sorry for ignoring you earlier, I just wanted to-“ that’s all Luffy needed to hear before lifting y/n’s hips off of his to bring her back down, impaling her with his cock.
Both letting out a whine. The stretch was so good y/n couldn’t help but start to bounce immediately. “Fuck captain I’m so sorry” y/n was moaning like a whore. Having already cum three times, her g spot getting hit every time her hips met Luffys, and the pure emotion behind it all she was already close. Luffys feet found a firm spot on the mattress to lip his hips to y/n’s continuously. “I’m sorry too baby. Mmm please forgive me.” Luffy was thrusting up into y/n at an ungodly pace. His tip was hitting her g spot perfectly. “Gonna cum Lu~” she said breathlessly as she began to clench around his cock. Luffy let out the sluttiest moan, which half the crew could probably hear, as they both came with each other. Immediately y/n slumped forward with Luffy still inside, laying her head on his chest. Luffy wrapped his arms around her torso and placed a kiss on her forehead. “I love you Lu” y/n admitted softly closing her eyes. “I love you too y/n” Luffy said before drifting off.
The crew was very much still awake and awaiting the return of the pair. “Should we go check on them?” Chopper worried since the two had been gone for so long. After hearing the loud moan escape from Luffy, the rest of the crew decided to pretend that y/n pranked Luffy and they must have went to bed. Even though the tears from the chef and the scoff from the swordsman didn’t go unnoticed, the tension was finally at ease.
A/N: 2nd fic I’ve done!! I did this one a little differently so please let me know how you guys feel🖤 GO READ MY NEWEST FIC! Out now “angel in black”
it’s not exactly loving, but there’s no lack of warmth when luffy’s involved. everything he does is to protect, to save, to love. he’d never hurt you and you know that.
“hi, luffy..” you speak quietly, covering your hands with his own. his hands twitch against your face, he sighs out of his nose from the contact.
“hi,” luffy rasps out, he’s heaving but you don’t think he realises. “hi, Y/n.”
he always gets like this after using that other form—you don’t know what else to call it—it doesn’t matter how long it takes. he’ll come find you and just..sit. quietly to stabilise himself, until he suddenly returns back to normal without mentioning it. if he does, it’ll be too much, too many questions you both will have that both of you don’t know the answer to.
you feel like you should talk to him, because he looks worse than usual this time. his eyes dart across your face and he gulps when he swallows. there’s a slight damp shine on his collarbone—he’s sweating, from the exertion of the earlier brawl or from something else, you don’t know the answer.
“he wants to have you,” luffy suddenly says lowly. his voice dark and protective the more he recalls something. “wants to have you to himself, wants to take you from me..”
“who are you talking about ?” your voice trembles, but you try your best to keep a straight face. luffy’s eyes bore into yours and if you look hard enough you could see something swirl in them. he’s fighting with something. for dominance or power ? or—
you gasp in surprise when luffy pulls you closer by your cheeks, forehead pressing to yours.
“but he can’t have you,” luffy continues, there’s a light taunting snark in his tone, he’s fanning the flames “i won’t let ‘im. ‘cuz you’re mine.” he growls.
you place your hands to his chest and luffy’s eyes fly down like he thinks you’ll push him away. but you don’t.
“all yours.” you confirm. a happy sound rumbles out of his chest; possessive, so unlike him you don’t know if whatever he’s fighting with has managed to take over for a moment. but only for a moment. he sighs, nuzzling your nose, then tucking his head into your shoulder to nibble at your jaw, smiling at the way your breath hitches.
“yeah,” he whispers against your neck ”all mine.”
luffy’s hands still cover your cheeks, hiding you from something you don’t see. but he does, and he’s decided he won’t let it lay a finger on you.
luffy has started getting a lot of attention recently, though most wouldn't consider it a good thing...he's quickly become the new topic of discussion amongst your neighbours, guys at the corner store and strangers in street corners alike. but all that matters to him is tonight's gyoza dinner from his favourite takeout spot.
pairing. underground fighter!luffy x fem!reader
word count. 12.5K (jeez, i yap a lot!!)
content warning. violence, fighting, swearing, angst and comfort, kissing, sexual tension and eventual implied smut MDNI, food tw, luffy is a hardcore yearner and the most oblivious man on earth at the same time, bf-not-bf luffy, childhood friend/upstairs neighbour! luffy, ASL siblings, reader and luffy are about 18-19 currently, will add more tags as the story goes along.
A/N. AAAAH!! i absolutely love this concept with luffy and w the vision im having right now, so i hope you guys like it too, we'll see how far this thing goes ⸜(⸝⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝⸝)⸝ oh also reader is slightly poc coded but it's kept pretty neutral these are just lil self indulgences, enjoy! also this isn't a song fic i just really like this song lol
<Now, here you go again
You say you want your freedom
Well, who am I to keep you down?>
the rumbling of the moving truck that brought you here is loud.
your aunt drops another box by the doorway. this one marked “MY THINGS!!”. with a heavy sigh, she leans back to stretch her lower back, speaking to you without looking at you.
“ey, c’mon. help me with some of these boxes.” she groans.
your eyes stay fixed on your jelly sandals. you spot two ants walking in a single file line right next to your foot and scuff it to scare them as they scamper a little further away from you. you grip your knees tighter without a word, digging your chin into your skin harshly, making your bottom lip jut out. your aunt groans at your lack of response but doesn’t push and returns to the moving truck with a click of her tongue.
over all the noises of rumbling and occasional buzzing of insects you hear her exchange a casual lighthearted conversation with the driver. his engine—his loud engine—is still running. the roar and rumble of it permeates through the ground and you can feel it running through your bones loudly as he leans against his open door trying to look smooth. you don’t keep your eyes on them for long, looking back at your feet to avoid the glare of the sun ignoring the harsh beat of it on your nape. you’re hot and sweaty and prickly, despite wearing your favourite short overalls.
loud shrieks catch your attention and you look across the road to see a group of kids playing on the basketball court. you recall your aunt loudly pointing it out on the drive here. tapping her nail against the window.
“woow, look—there’s a basketball field here! you can play with the others kids there, too.” she hinted crudely, hoping you’d be more agreeable. you lazily looked in its direction, lip curling up in annoyance seeing kids your age having fun and cartwheeling. kicking balls and shoes and anything else they could find into basketball nets, all nicely contained around those big iron bars.
all you could think about was how much of a nuisance it was gonna be to live across that, it’d be so loud when you wanted to sleep in.
this brings you back to now, desperately trying to tune out the noises; the rumbling, the talking, the laughing and screeching—
a stray ball whacks against the bars of the steel fence of the court, and the sound doesn’t startle you as hard as it does your aunt. she lets out an unnecessarily loud yelp that causes her and the driver to share a laugh. you scowl, pulling your knees up further to your chest and groan.
this was your new home. your new life. your new noise. you’d have to get used to it all. except maybe the delivery driver. unless your aunt decided to date him or something…
“HEEEYY!”
the loud noise from above you manages to make you let out a yelp. your head whips around, looking for the unknown threat. you realise the voice is coming from above quickly and look up to see a black head of hair peeking at you from their balcony. although peeking was an understatement. the figure—who you could now faintly tell was a boy around your age—was standing just shadowed by sunlight. his head and upper body balancing on the railing of his balcony, his feet dangled limp in the air, one of his feet bare and the sandal abandoned on the floor.
“hey,” he calls again, pushing up dangerously close to the railing thinking maybe you hadn’t heard him. he’d managed to catch your aunt's attention as well, “be careful up there! that’s dangerous!” she cried but the boy payed her no mind, his bright smile solely on you.
“heeeey, hey—is all that stuff yours?!” he screamed. he points towards the box of your items next to you but quickly stumbles. he plops back down on his heels safely, but not without scaring the pants off you, your aunt and the delivery driver. he decides to crouch down instead, barely squeezing his big face and toothy smile through the bars.
everything about him is so loud. his legs hang through the gaps of the balcony and make the old bars rattle when he swings them. his voice is loud, his entire presence is.
you’d have to get used to the noise. but not right now, you decide.
you scowl up at him like he was at fault for the sun’s glare (and with the brightness in his smile he might as well have been) shoving your face back in between your knees. your aunt groans your name incredulously, before apologising to the loud boy for you. your nails dig into your skin in an effort to hold your tongue. she confirms that yes, these were all your things and the boy sounds happy about the prospects of new neighbours. but your aunt’s words do little to satisfy him. he calls for you again. you try your best to ignore his incessant ramblings. he loudly introduces himself to you as Luffy—hm. weird name—and patiently waits after he asks you yours. either he doesn’t get the hint or he’s just stupidly stubborn. either way, you want no part of this. of the sun, of the noises, of him.
“hey, can’t you hear me?! oh, wait! i’ll come down there!”
your head pops up in surprise. he was going to come down?
and surely enough, you hear the rattle of the iron floor when he shoots up with a start. and after a brief moment of silence he’s face to face—or well, feet to feet—with you.
“hi! i’m Luffy! what’s your name?”
(either he was plain stupid or just annoyingly stubborn. either way, he’s brighter up close and personal.)
when you look up at him you’re met with a clearer view of his previously light obstructed face. black hair sticking up wildly like he’d just climbed out of bed. a blue tank top and shorts, sandals on his feet and a big straw hat on his head. way too big for him.
lucky him, you think. he didn’t have to worry about the heat with that huge thing on.
he balances on his feet while he waits for your response. antsy, you frown.
when you do tell him your name your eyebrow raises when he tests it a few times like he wants to know what it sounds like in his mouth before he nods to himself satisfied. his eyes drift towards your box of items sitting next to you on the curb.
“s’this all yours?” he repeats.
you look back at your box. yup, still had the big, bold, black inked MY THINGS!! scratched on the front. your aunt had already confirmed it yet he still asked you.
“…yup.”
“cool! can i see it?” he asks excitedly. he’s already forcing himself in your space, crouching down at your level to look at the box more closely.
“hey!” you shriek, your arms aren’t strong enough to drag the heavy cardboard towards yourself, so you settle on flopping over and covering it from his grabby hands. “no touching!”
“why not?” the boy frowns at you. your eyes widen in disbelief.
“because these are my! things!” you slap a hand to the front of the box where the words are written to accentuate your point. the boy looks unfazed. it makes you angrier for some reason. screw the sun and the moving truck and him.
“didn’t your mommy teach you being nosy is bad?” you spit out.
“don’t got one.” Luffy responds swiftly. you startle, but he seems unfazed as he spoke the words naturally. like it wasn’t a big deal.
“…oh.” your voice dies in your throat. guilt creeping in your chest you feel your weight against your precious box of things. you pout, and look back up it him.
“sorry…” you mutter.
this time his eyebrows furrow in confusion “what for?”
you blink at him, puzzled “because…i was being mean.” you explain, why were you explaining why he should be upset with you?
“i don’t have a mom either, to be honest…” you mutter the last part quiet, bitter and cold. so unlike him and the sun beating on your back.
“i didn’t think you were being mean. i don’t really care if you were, i just wanted to see your stuff.”
you gape at him. half tempted to lecture him like the grown ups usually did. but you weren’t a grown up, you didn’t want to be.
“sooo,” he sings, kicking a small pebble “can i see?” he grins.
(you weren’t a grown up, but you definitely didn’t want to be like Luffy.)
you do end up letting him look through your box of toys. on the front porch and in the beating sun. it’ll be annoying to clean up but it wasn’t all bad playing with another person. even someone as strange as Luffy. you’d learned a little about him while he was rummaging through your items.
he lives with his grandpa and two brothers in the flat right above yours. (news he’d been very giddy about) him and his brothers apparently had a reputation for being troublemakers.
(you don’t doubt your auntie will also catch wind of it if you knew how much she loved gossip.)
he also liked to hang out with a grown up called Shanks who hangs around the local bar. he babbled about how he got his big straw hat from him as a keepsake. how cool he was even though he only had one arm and how he was kind of like a pirate but the only thought in your mind was what Luffy could possibly be doing hanging out at a bar with a bunch of old drunk guys at 8 years old. you also found out he shared the same age as you.
Luffy had asked you if you liked beetles because he loved beetles and playing, but nobody in the neighbourhood really liked to play with him. “i dunno why, beetles are super cool!” he’d complained with a pout. but you thought it was less about the beetles and more so about him. the old ladies around here liked him, though. he said he enjoyed spending time with them because they’d give him candy.
“isn’t spending all your time with old grandma’s kinda sad?”
“why? they give me food! and i don’t spend all my time with them! i spend time with Sabo and Ace, too!”
ah, right. how could you have forgotten to mention the legendary Ace and Sabo? in the short time you’d known Luffy you found out his brothers were like deities to him. whatever they did was “super cool” or “awesome” or “super duper funny”. it didn’t matter that they tricked him into staying alone in their apartment with the excuse of keeping watch for bad guys, (which is how he’d come to bother you) that just meant Luffy wasn’t strong enough to stick with them yet.
“that sounds kinda mean...” you say sympathetically. but Luffy doesn’t take your words as kindness. instead, he takes them as a challenge.
“they’re not mean!” he frowned, honour to his brothers over all.
you frowned back “they totally ditched you.” you say bluntly.
“yeah! but—“ he sputtered, fumbling with his words while his eyebrows strained in thought “next time they won’t! “cos i’ll be cool like them, you’ll see!”
you’d thought that would be the end of the conversation and he’d storm away. but Luffy was very…simple minded. the moment he saw something that caught his eye in your cardboard treasure trove he was right back to shuffling around in it with glittery eyes and a wide smile.
Luffy was kind of a dimwit. but he was a little funny. he’d made you laugh for the first time in a week when he’d randomly demonstrated his ability to do a hand stand only for him to fall flat on his back and the noise that punched out of his chest managed to make you grip your stomach with laughter. despite you clearly making fun of him he wasn’t the least bit embarrassed. instead he smiled, he laughed along with you laughing at him. everything seemed to pick up when he laughed, the wind warmed and the sun shone brightly. it was comfortable for a little bit.
it was when Luffy started complaining about being hungry that a loud voice bellowed his name. he stiffened, turning around stiff as an army cadet. when you were met with the stern face of his grandfather, you also instinctively straighten up, gulping.
Luffy’s grandpa scooped him up by the back of his top like a momma cat grabbing her kitten by its scruff. Luffy wiggled around helplessly while the older man questioned him incessantly.
“you’re here alone again, ain’t ya? where d’yer other rascal brothers run off to, huh?!”
“i-i dunno— i said i dunno, gramps—le’go o’ meee!!” he whined. shaking his little fists as he stuck his tongue out.
“stubborn little…” his grandpa gruffed. his eyes met yours and you almost squeaked before he did a complete 180. he greeted you with a warm smile, crouching down to hold out his hand and introduce himself— Monkey D. Garp.—huh. weird names.
“n-nice to meet you…” you said shakily. when his hand encased yours you yelped in surprise “OW—!”
he had the uncle grip.
“oh, sorry lil’ lady! can’t control m’strength with you younguns sometimes!” he said cheekily.
“grandpa’s handshakes hurt like hell!”
Garp looked as if he’d wrangle his grandson out of shock. he knocked his fist onto the little boy’s head “OI! who taught you that word, you brat?! i’ll bet it was Ace! or that no good drunk, Shanks!” he spit.
Luffy sputtered useless lies, lips forming to the side while he looked away from his grandfather.
Luffy also sucked at lying.
Garp quickly turned to greet your auntie before saying his goodbyes. still in his grandfather’s grip Luffy waved at you sneakily, although his voice projected so loudly the stealth was chucked out the window.
“see you tomorrow, Y/n!!” he smiled. bright. like the sun and the breeze.
“…okay.” you nodded, and his smiled widen even more somehow. even as his grandpa threatened him with a fistful of love—whatever that was, you didn’t want to find out.
yet when you looked back at him disappearing up the stairs, toys and school trinkets scattered around the front porch that you’d have to annoyingly clean up alone, everything else seemed quiet now thanks to the image the loud boy left in your mind, louder than anything else. like he planned to outshine the sun with only his smile.
and when you snapped out of your daze, you realised the delivery truck was long gone.
<It's only right that you should
Play the way you feel it
But listen carefully to the sound
Of your loneliness. . .>
Luffy was a boy built of big dreams.
every time you’d see Luffy, which was practically every day, he’d have something new he wanted to be or do.
he wanted to get taller “even taller than Ace! and gramps!” he’d say. so he wouldn’t get picked on by them all the time.
he wanted to grow strong like the hero’s in the cartoons, too. “i don’t wanna be a hero, though, just strong like one! or like those pro wrestlers that do crazy suplexes on tv!!”
he wanted to get a new bike for Christmas, he wanted to have the biggest plate of food during your neighbour’s annual barbecue (which he easily achieved on his own and it never failed to make the grown ups laugh). he wanted to be cool like Shanks and he wanted a super fast race car that could take him anywhere.
at first, you’d make fun of him for having so many ambitions “you say something new every day!” you’d laugh, and Luffy would laugh right along with you in agreement. yet when he spoke you noticed that there was never a hint of doubt in his voice. in fact, his fantasies where barely that, he spoke with so much certainty every time he spoke his beliefs it seemed like the universe would bend to his will. like if spoke loudly enough it would nod and bow and give him what he wants. you don’t know where he could’ve gotten this frankly spoiled mentality from, but maybe it was the way he carried himself; tall, even though he was the same height as you, and certain. confidence too big for someone your age but it fit him like a glove. he was unashamed and unrestrained no matter what came his way.
so every time he’d voice something new to you, you felt almost special. proud that he’d share his stupid little dreams with you even though you were convinced he only spoke to you because he needed someone that would listen. but you didn’t mind, because Luffy wasn’t entirely spoiled. and you knew because he’d share his dreams with you. not just in words but in thought.
when Luffy wanted to get taller and stronger and cooler he’d add “—that way, if anybody tries to hurt us i could beat ‘em up, like bam!!” he’d demonstrate a horrible jab and kick, and you’d laugh saying you didn’t need protecting. “especially not from a wimp like you!” you’d tease, and Luffy would jump on you and you’d wrestle until your bellies hurt from laughing.
when Luffy wanted his new bike he promised he’d let you ride on the back. and he did end up getting a new bike. and when he’d immediately clobbered on your door at the crack of dawn right after getting it he’d pushed and shoved your sleepy body onto the back of his bike. you’d lost your balance while zooming down a hill and both toppled off. your knees were bloody and your hands scratched from trying to break your fall but you’d both laughed loudly through it. even when his grandfather had scolded him so loudly he no doubt woke up everybody in the building. (he’d treated both of your injuries anyway. Luffy’s just a little too rough, but you could tell he was holding back, it was still Christmas after all.)
and when he got his big plate of food…well Luffy was a glutton and didn’t like to share, probably a byproduct of living with two older brothers you found out were just rowdy as him. but it was funny seeing him scarf down his food in record speed, choke on a chicken bone then go right back to eating. and he always faithfully sat swinging his legs right next to you. pouting when you wouldn’t share your food like you hadn’t caught him red handed trying to steal a bite from your plate.
and of course, he promised he’d take you anywhere you wanted with his super fast red race car. “we could go on a road trip!”
“wouldn’t you wanna go with Ace or something? why me?” you’d ask once. you were only his silence filler after all.
luffy looked at you like you grew a second head “‘cos your my friend and i wanna go with you.” he’d said, easy as that. “plus, Ace would’ve called my car a kiddie car just cos i’m smaller than him and i would’ve gotten mad anyway.”
and just like that, you’d been sucked into Luffy’s orbit as his one and only friend.
literally. tagging along with Luffy meant you were introduced to his entire life. your auntie never allowed you to spend the night at the boy's house but you’d spend every other day outside with him. sometimes going further than you were allowed to when you were sure those older aunties upstairs weren’t watching you both like hawks from their balconies. going to the nearby corner store to buy candy would get you joking scoldings from the store clerk while you giggled and ran like bats out of hell. and you’d run back to his apartment to avoid the summer heat. then usually Ace was home.
he’d lounge around the living room when he wasn’t out causing trouble with Sabo, who’d have summer classes at the library. (yes, he signed up willingly. nerd.) he was bossy just because he was three years older. he’d turn the tv on super loud to annoy you and ruffle your hair on purpose because you hated when he did it.
(Luffy didn’t see it the same way you had though. he was annoyed but only because Ace was apparently “hogging” you. gripping onto you tightly while he dragged you away from his brother who laughed loudly.)
but Ace was also kinda cool. he’d stand up for you when older kids on your block would try to scare you. he was scary when he was mad, and he’d often ask you if you had any trouble at school and to tell him if you did.
“boys your age are super dumb, so let me know when they bother ya! i’ll set em straight.” he’d said cooly, pointing to himself and everything with a proud shiny smirk.
“but you’re dumb too, Ace.”
“h-hey!! i’m being nice to you, brat!”
“you are dumb ace,” Luffy piped up as well, grinning “‘cos you got held back!”
“SHADDUP, YOU LITTLE—COME HERE!" he shot up from his seat and straight to his brother’s neck. they tumbled and tussled and you laughed, hooting and hollering.
despite it all, Ace was kind, too. he’d carry you on his back sometimes if he felt like it and he’d faithfully treat you with an ice pop from his freezer every time you left their flat. (he’d hold it to your arm to make you cry out in surprise, just because he could and with a mean little snicker. he was still older and older meant annoying in Ace's book.) despite how annoying he was sometimes, you liked Ace. he was definitely cool. kinda like those bad boys on tv. Luffy hadn’t agreed with you then because his brother wasn’t like in those “chick flics” he gagged, sticking his tongue out.
Sabo was also someone Luffy admired. he was to him “super smart—like genius level!” and at the time you’d thought so too, only some type of super genius would willingly do his summer worksheet.
Sabo was nicer to you and was more often than not the one who’d reign in Ace, “stop teasin’ her so much, Ace!” he’d laugh lightheartedly. and he’d always turn to you with a wink and promise he’d keep his brother in check.
“tch! as if you could.” Ace would mutter under his breath. they’d start squaring up immediately with Luffy itching to join in while you could only shake your head, disappointed.
Sabo would tease, but he’d usually slow down quicker when he saw you getting agitated. he talked like an old man sometimes, too. he’d say you got taller every time he saw you and when you’d mentioned it to him with a laugh he’d looked genuinely shocked. squeezing his chest and everything.
Luffy’s brothers were exactly what you’d expected from someone like him. he was constantly running after them. trying to act cool like them even if it meant causing trouble or getting hurt. the older you both got, the more you ended up becoming his makeshift nurse when he’d come back from causing mayhem with his brothers with minor injuries because he feared the wrath of his grandpa should he see him in this state. you were no lighter on him though, you never held back from scolding him for constantly being on his brother’s heels.
“but it was fun!” he’d say, lighthearted.
“i bet it’ll be real fun when you end up in jail.” you’d snark, digging your washcloth into his cheek.
he winced at the sting, tilting away from you and making you grab his shoulder to sit him still.
“i’m not gonna end up in jail. i’m faster now! cops won’t even be able to catch me.” he’d grin, problem solved for him apparently. but not for you; you frown. slapping his leg lightly.
“my auntie tells me never to deal with jailbirds. i don’t like criminals.”
Luffy had jumped back in shock at your words. granted, you didn’t really know what a jailbird was yourself, but your aunt always told you to stay away from trouble. and you didn’t want Luffy to be trouble, because then who would he tell his ridiculous dreams to?
(you didn’t want to admit you wanted it to be you forever.)
later on that week, you’d caught Ace by the elevator and while riding on with him he’d snickered. and when you raised a brow in question he teased you for managing to "reform" his brother.
“guess he doesn’t wanna be a—what was it? hoodlum? nah, nah—jailbird! that was it!” he guffawed. “guess he doesn’t wanna be like us after all.”
his words made your entire body warm.
he’d still stick to his brother’s heels, always. but by ten, Luffy would spend more time with you. annoyingly and embarrassingly, he had a habit of yelling loud enough for you to hear from your balcony if you were home “Ace an’ Sabo are out again, so let’s go play!!” he’d call out, hands cupped around his mouth.
he’d still sing their praises, talk about how cool they were. he'd told you once the last time they came home they almost got caught by the police and got dogs sicked out on them. he’d added that while he was asleep, Ace had snuck onto his bunk in the middle of the night and they told him he was glad he wasn’t there that time.
“i dunno if Ace thought i was asleep or if he knew i was awake the whole time..” Luffy hummed, deep in thought but expression serene.
“that’s sweet of him,” you said. but Luffy shook his head.
“nah,” Luffy smiled, continuing to balance along the curb “just means i gotta get stronger!” he’d spoken into the air, determined to have it hear his voice.
Luffy was a boy built of big dreams, all individual thoughts and desires that shaped him into who he was. but on the night of his 11th birthday, he’d told you his biggest one yet.
a loud rattle by your window had startled you awake. you looked to see feet dangling by the window and you were almost tempted to throw your window open and push the burglar. what you thought was a burglar ended up being Luffy. you could hear the sound of his struggle while he tried to climb down the fire escape as safely as he could. he kicked your window two times and stumbled on the third, his version of a knock since his hands were clearly busy holding him up for dear life. you quickly shot out of bed through your sleepy haze.
“LUFFY?! what the HELL are you doing, you psycho?!” you hissed through the night air.
“hiya, N/n,” he grunted, but still with that stupid grin. “your sleep hat’s leanin’.” he giggled.
“don’t—what the—get down from there!!” you sputtered, how could he try to have a conversation like this?!!
(but reflexively, you fixed your sleep bonnet.)
“i will, just move out the way!”
when you did, he swung in clumsily, rolling inside with the flair of a baby bird who’s wings were covered in sticky gum. “woah—!” he gasped. you shrieked, covering your eyes in disbelief.
“hehehe, what’re ya hidin’ for?” luffy spoke calmly after a moment, entirely too calm for somebody who’d climbed through your window and could’ve potentially died on the day of his birthday if things had gone differently. you don’t know how you’d explain this to his grandpa, to his brothers. but Luffy snaps you out of your thoughts by pulling your hands away from your eyes with a giggle and a closed eye smile. his cheeks slightly flushed from the adrenaline.
“ya scared of me or sum’?” he teased, your wrists in his grip.
you huffed, frowning. finally speaking when you managed to catch your breath (you wonder why his stunt took more out of you than him, he couldn’t be human. no way.)
“scared of how stupid you are, yeah…” you grumbled. Luffy giggled. leaning back on his heels. straw hat dangling on his back. he looked out of your still open window at the pitch black sky. from your window you couldn’t see the moon, it was blocked off by the apartment across the street, taller than yours. so you’d always watch new year’s eve fireworks from Luffy’s fire escape. but if you squinted and tilted your head hard enough you could catch a glimpse of its glow. yet it didn’t seem like what Luffy was looking for. you don’t know what it is he’s looking at exactly, but you adjust to sit next to him anyway.
“can i tell ya somethin’?”
his quiet question catches you off guard. he wasn’t one to be shy about sharing his thoughts, his mouth moved before his brain caught up most of the time. or it moved as if it had a will of it’s own.
“yeah, sure.”
Luffy leaned against the window sill. the light from the lamp posts illuminated his face, his smile, as he spoke;
“i’m gonna be the freest man in the world.”
for some reason, chills rucked up your spine.
Luffy always proclaimed everything he wanted to do, this wasn’t anything new. he wanted something, he’d get it; he wanted to do something, he’d do it.
“someday, i will be. i dunno when but i’ll do it. and i’ll know when i do.”
you could only sit quiet for a moment.
“so like…a bum?”
he laughed, nudging his shoulder to yours playfully “bums’re lazy! i’m not gonna be lazy! i’m gonna be free!”
“how free?” you asked, because you truly wondered what freedom was for luffy. was it freedom to do whatever he wants?
“that too, yeah.” he responded, you hadn’t realised you said that out loud. “i wanna be free to choose for myself what i wanna do. where i wanna go…” he hummed, scratching his hair in frustration “i don’t know how to explain it—i just want anything ever holdin’ me back.”
he turned to you then. his head dug inside his elbow hiding the lower part of his face from you, but you could still see the corners of his smile.
“i want that for you, too. want you to do whatever you wanna..” he mumbled, voice droopy. “you…and Ace…an’ Sabo..n’ gramps…”his eyes slowly shut “n’you..” he repeated, voice trailing off while he fell deeper and deeper into sleep.
Luffy was made of dreams. ones he held dear and ones he shared with you. ones he wanted for you and all of the people in his orbit. and even as his voice drooped and lowered and faded with sleep, he still spoke them firmly, determined. certain. speaking them loud enough wasn’t an issue anymore for his growing body—at 11 he was sure he could speak and it was bound to happen. he smiled even in his sleep and you wondered what he dreamed about until you forgot how long you’d been watching. until his mouth started falling open and drool trickled out of its corners.
“mmnghh, meaat…” he mumbled in his sleep.
you giggled, covering your mouth to hide the noise.
that was the first time a boy had slept in your room.
<Now, here I go again
I see the crystal visions
I keep my visions to myself
It's only me who wants to
Wrap around your dreams
And have you any dreams you'd like to sell?
Dreams of loneliness>
“yo, yn! come pick up table four!!”
you peek your head out from behind the beaded door curtain “dude, you’re already out there!”
“nah,” your coworker, Del smirks, leaning against the doorway “s’your regular~!” he sings.
you roll your eyes, spinning back inside the break room “..be right there.” you grumble.
unsurprisingly—Luffy’s the one at table four. blue baggy shorts and a red baseball tee on and of course, his iconic straw hat like a centre piece, poking out from behind the menu. his basketball shoes are untied as usual and wave from left to right.
he’s practically melting into the plush seats and you have half a mind to scold him but at that moment he looks up and sees you. his face brightens as always. the same happy, goofy boy, your Luffy with the faint scar under his eye. but there is something different you’ve recently gotten used to. the little bandaid over his eyebrows, the slight redness and chipping on his knuckles where he’s gripping laminated paper.
“Y/n!” he greets you with a bright smile. “you get off now, right?”
“i was supposed to, yeah.” you spit sarcastically, flashing him your fakest sweet smile. “‘till some big back barged in here and asked for me specifically even though he could’ve asked for anyone else.”
“i like when it’s you.” Luffy giggled unfazed, leaning back in his chair like he owned the place, the seats squeak from the strain of carrying his flopped form. “sides, i’m giving you overtime—means you get more money!” he teased.
Luffy was a frequent visitor of The Braised Lamb, so familiar that he knew everyone who worked there and everyone who worked there knew him. they always greeted him warmly and there wasn’t a moment Luffy was here where you couldn’t hear laughter from all the way in the break room, from staff and customers alike. out of all the regulars, Luffy was a fan favourite.
except all of your coworkers called him your regular. because every time he was there he would call for you to take his order without fail. even when you’d have them say you were on break he’d simply wait, only to complain about how he was starving when he’d finally see you. but he’d never stop doing it. fast forward a year of you working there, it had become an inside joke between the staff. one you hated with a passion.
“nice try, hooker.” you spit, ignoring his laughter at your petty insult. he’d received it because Luffy was always stomping out of his apartment in the middle of the night with “something to do.” the walls were old and thin, and it wasn't like he had a knack for being sneaky, so you'd question him often. that something? he wouldn’t tell you, always waving you off with a joke and very nervous laughter. all you knew was that he was out by the time you'd wake up and always there before your shift ended to order some food and walk you home. you started referring to him as such to tease him. you didn’t call him that often, only when he really managed to piss you off.
you pull out your writing pad and pen, scratching it down onto the paper to test the ink, screw your boss and his old fashioned ways, you think bitterly. “let’s speed it up so i can go home, yeah?”
Luffy nods, looking back at the menu and humming in thought “hmmmmm, ge’meeee…a big beef noodle bowl and a chicken one—with the runny egg on the beef one, that one’s for me!”
Luffy’s list of food progressively grows lengthier, and he seemed blind to the questioning looks you were sending him when he kept adding foods that could feed a family of six. he finally told you that it wasn’t only for him, pouting when you distrusted him, insistent that it was for his brothers and grandpa as well. and that was all nice and good but this was still a lot…he’d even ordered dessert for gods’ sake!
“okay…will that be all?” you say tentatively.
“oh, yeah—what’d you wanna eat, Y/n?”
you raise a brow. “me?”
Luffy nods with a smile, waiting for your answer.
“i dunno—i guess i’m feeling some gyoza right now…” you think. Luffy’s smile widens. "that it?" he asks. you nod warily, his eyebrows pull up and so does his bandaid and you almost ask him about it before he speaks again.
“kay, i’ll have that too, then!”
this time, your pen freezes. “Luffy…you know i’m not spotting you for this, right?”
his eyebrows furrow “course i do! i wasn’t gonna make you pay for all that.”
“then how are you paying for this?”
“..with money?” you hate how he frowns like you’re the stupid one. “you okay? you been workin’ all day, right? maybe you should go sit down.” he says, eyes searching for yours. your veins pull and your grip tightens on your pen, immediately forgetting about your concerns you scowl at him.
“i was sitting down! five minutes earlier! until you called for me, fuck-ass!” luffy hums an apologetic small “o-ooooh….right.” you roll your eyes with an exasperated sigh. you spin around towards the kitchen “big order for table four!” you call.
“don’t forget the gyoza!” luffy calls after you. you flip him off without looking back. you hear him laugh and shake your head.
. . .
“order up!”
. . .
after saying your goodbyes with the rest of the staff, you leave through the back with a sigh. looking up at the pitch black sky, you pull out your phone to check for the next train when you’re met with Luffy. holding three bags of food on one arm with his phone in hand and leaning against the wall. he looks up and smiles again like he hadn’t seen you in years. you wonder how he’s able to do that even after all these years. but your own mouth pulls up seeing him waiting for you.
“hey! was just about to call you!” he shoves his phone in his pocket and reaches for your free hand. he always ran warm, you had gotten used to the feel of it. reflexively your thumb runs over his knuckles. bruised, scuffed. unfamiliar. your lips twitch without your control.
“let’s go.” he smiles, you nod.
“next train's in fifteen.” Luffy hums in response, swinging your hands slightly.
“we’ll make it in time.” he reponds, and this time you hum.
you’d gotten used to these moments of calm silence with Luffy. he who was always so eager to move and do things also sometimes had moments when the quiet of the night called to him. where he simply wanted to feel the shadows of the street lights shine behind his eyelids and the puffs of cold air when he exhaled.
your thumb grazes his bruised knuckles again and they falter, but his hand squeezes yours.
“if we don’t hurry, your food will get cold.” you tease quietly.
“Ace an’ Sabo won’t mind reheatin’ it.” he says simply. “and i know you’re tired from being on your feet all day, so we don’t have to rush.”
your heart warms. a simple but sweet and considerate gesture, everything about it screamed Luffy.
“good. i really don’t even feel like walking right now,” you groan tiredly “i’d sleep right here on the sidewalk if i could..”
Luffy chuckles. “i could carry ya if you want.”
“think your hands are more than full right now, but i appreciate it, Lu.” you snort and squeeze his hand.
“s’no big.” he responds. strangely quiet, like he wants to say more. but he doesn’t. instead he sighs.
“maaaan, i’m hungry!”
you giggle “no whinin’!”
“you were just whinin’!”
“was not!”
“were too!”
you continue to laugh along the way, hand in his grip and the unfamiliar feel of his knuckles.
when Luffy rings your doorbell, two of his takeout bags are long gone and only one remains; his beef bowl and your gyoza.
“delivery!” he teases. you roll your eyes fondly, stepping back to let him in.
“your auntie ain’t home?” he asks, kicking his shoes off.
“nah, late shift at the hospital.” you respond, walking to the kitchen while luffy sets the bags down on your large coffee table “i already heated the food up for us!” Luffy calls loudly. “you sure you’re good with just this?!”
“yeah, i got left over rice!” your breath halts when you hear the shuffling of plastic bags, the overwhelming scent of ramen and Luffy’s greedy hum. “LUFFY! placemats, dammit! do you want my auntie to kill us both?!”
“oh—“ Luffy giggles “sorry!”
you groan, shaking your head; you come back with the mats and your rice, placing them on the table “fuckin’ big back..”
“i’m starving!” he whines, pouting at you. chin on the table. you pat his straw hat, digging it onto his head so he splutters.
“have some composure.” you laugh despite yourself, and seeing the smile on your face brings his back. Luffy excitedly tells you to eat up and starts without you, humming between gobbles and loud slurps. and you both enjoy some warm food by the tv.
but something surges back to you. a thought.
“where’d you get that from?”
Luffy’s slurps freeze. he looks at you wide eyed and cheeks full, a deer caught in headlights, it almost makes you laugh.
“get what?” he asks, but his hand flies over his bandaid to itch his temple.
your pointer digs into the bandaid and he winces lightly “that.”
“o-oh!! yeah…yeah, that!” he chokes out. his eyes dart around the room, anywhere but you, to look for anything to save him. then he shovels more food into his mouth. “this is really good, right?!”
in all the years since you’d been here and knew Luffy, he’d remained the shittiest liar you know.
“Luffy...” you warn. it hadn’t been a big deal before, but now that he was acting like this your eyebrows furrow in worry.
his expression flickers once he sees yours. he drops his chopsticks and reaches for you, his thumb landing on your lower lip.
“don’t look like that..” he mumbles.
“then don’t lie to me.” you said firmly. you’d meant for it to be firm, but your voice wavers just a bit.
“i—it’s nothin’. i just got into it with some guy..”
“what guy?” you insist.
“doesn’t matter,” he insists back but he frowns desperately “i don’t even remember his name, honest. we were just out, Ace and i, and he was talkin’ trash so we fucked him up.”
“what—“ Luffy hanging out causing trouble with his brothers wasn’t new, but had he been getting in trouble with neighbourhood gangs? your heart starts squeezing. “what’re you jumping people for?! what’d he say—how did he even know about you anyway?”
Luffy flinches like your questions hurt him “Ace is well known ‘round here, y’know? and he scolded me, too. said i ‘run my mouth too much for my own good’…” he grumbled, face pouty.
you’re slightly reassured to know he hadn’t gotten himself into anything serious, but you couldn’t go light on him. “you should be more careful, he might come back with more people next time.”
“then i’ll just kick all their asses!” he responded with his stupid grin, problem solved for him. you sigh.
“the hell you will.” you respond, punching his shoulder.
he whines, even though you're sure it did not hurt him “what? you don’t believe me?”
“i know you’re strong, Luff. but multiple people by yourself? i don’t know if that’s possible for anyone that’s not like…from Baki.” you joke.
“i’m stronger than Baki for sure.” Luffy says proudly, causing you to laugh.
Luffy had gotten stronger and taller like he assured you he would. he’d grown up a lot in the ten years you knew him but every year you’re glad to see he hadn’t changed at all. he’d stay the same, your very best friend and though he’d met new friends at his school like you’d expected him and his bright personality to attract; Zoro, Ussop, Sanji, to name a few…he was constantly tied to you. waiting for you by the gates of your school every day with that grin. even when his grandpa would meet him at your doorstep with a fistful of love for ditching class.
yeah, he’d gotten taller. stronger, handsome…but he was still just your friend Luffy!
you pick a bite of gyoza between your chopsticks, bringing it to his face without looking at him. “just quit getting yourself in trouble. i told you i don’t hang out with jailbirds.” you chide. Luffy freezes for only a moment, then that big goofy smile takes over his face once more. he leans forward and chomps down, munching away happily, and gathers a few scoops of the bites he had on the side to lead them to your mouth for an equal exchange. he’d gotten better at sharing, despite remaining just as hungry and just as greedy…
Luffy, always as impulsive and always having to keep you on your toes. leans until he’s in your face but even still grabs your cheeks. your eyes widen and he smiles wider. he presses a smooch to your nose—it’s unnecessarily long and unnecessarily wet, and you giggle. you grab his shoulders to push him but he leans closer, pressing more ramen flavoured kisses to both your cheeks “you’re the best, N/n.” he says, and he always says it like he wants to add more but like he himself doesn’t know what to say.
he presses one last kiss to your forehead, giggling when you complain about his “nasty grease mouth” on you and you two return to eating by the tv. when your bellies are fully and you sigh contently, luffy leans back against the couch and his bruise covered knuckles graze yours. you reach for him and he squeezes your hand tightly. no words need to be exchanged for now.
it doesn’t dawn on you until much later, around a month later maybe, or perhaps you’d just been silencing your own thoughts about the issue. nevertheless, it dawns on you that Luffy is actively lying to you.
he hasn’t been blowing you off and he’s not ignoring you. he comes to pick you up at work every day, with a few new colourful bruises each time or a singular bandaid covering his nose bridge if you’re really lucky. his new look had gotten him a few comments from the people around you; neighbours, your coworkers, even customers. he had always been a fan favourite, your Luffy. yet just like with you, he’d wave them off with a joke every time, but unlike them, it took much more than a joke to get you off his back.
at first, he claims it’s because he’s been working out with Zoro, you’d met him before. quiet guy with sharp eyes who always seemed too mysterious of a character type to be hanging out with Luffy. until he’d get roped into Luffy’s shenanigans and you realised one was just as dumb as the other. you were glad Luffy had been able to find a friend that matched him, it even seemed like they were long lost brothers at times.
“Zoro always wants to go to the gym, like, mega early. i swear, it’s unbearable! says it’s to clear his mind or whatever, but i just think he uses it as an excuse to get to kick my ass..” he rambled once, leaning against the railing of the creaky old stairs of your apartment. he reached for your hand then, pointing to his cheek “see! he did this, isn’t he the worst?! you’ll kiss it better fa’ me, yeah?” he pouted.
that might not have been a complete lie, but it was never the full truth and Luffy was actively lying to you. that was a fact nothing or no one could deny. not even his stupid jokes or his stupid crooked smile and the way he’d hightail it out of there when he knew you didn’t buy his shit. when he got caught in a lie and had no more excuses for himself.
it also didn’t help that the stomping down the stairs you’d be hearing a while ago through your thin walls started becoming more faint. quiet, slow ones, like the person climbing was trying to be sneaky. this was also around the time Luffy’s morning stomps for his workouts with Zoro became less frequent.
when you asked him about it, he stiffened. “aw, you been hearin’ me?” he laughed nervously.
“not like it’s hard. you stomp like a behemoth.”
he’d laughed, then. but he’d been strangely quick to end the conversation and run off. very, very unlike him.
his brothers where also no help at all. they always seemed like they were hiding something whenever you talked to them about Luffy’s odd behaviour. you don’t know if it was some kind of weird genetic defect or if they all inherited their inability be convincing liars from each other.
him suddenly not going to the gym as much?
“he’s not good with keeping routine, you know how he is..” Ace waved off.
always seeming like he was hiding something?
“he seems the same to me ! maybe you were imagining it?” Sabo said sweetly.
the bruises that kept appearing all over his body?
“..w-well, i mean, he’s—y’know—Luffy! he’s a klutz y’know? real moron that one…you know, i saw him trip over his own leg last week!” Sabo sputtered with a nervous laugh.
him always coming back at ungodly hours of the night?
“he’s Luffy! who knows what he’s doin’..probably hanging out with his other friends…what, don’t tell me you’re feelin’ jealous?” Ace teased.
(that remark had gotten him a gut punch.)
but the worst part of it all was that Luffy was, and has always been, a piece of shit liar. he couldn’t lie to save his, his brothers’ and his grandpa’s life combined, and it pissed you off that he at least couldn’t develop some decent lying skills when he did it straight to your face. he couldn’t at least spare you with some manufactured denial, the bastard was that bad at it!
that was because Luffy always wore his heart on his sleeve. if he felt something, he’d say it, and on the off chance he didn’t it would very clearly show on his face. like a few days before your birthday, every year without fail, he’d cover his mouth and sprint away from you, but you’d see the very giddy glint in his eyes and how he always seemed to hold back a grin around you. needless to say, you’d refined your acting skills every year when he’d pull out a present from behind his back with a loud “surprise!” at the crack of dawn because he simply couldn’t wait anymore.
and now he was lying to you. not only him, but Ace and Sabo too. ignoring the worry in your heart, that just hurt. a lot.
you feared what Luffy could’ve gotten himself into; had he gotten into drug dealing? was he getting extorted for money? luffy had never been the type to waver or be intimidated by anybody, but he wouldn’t tell you anything so your mind was doing it for you now. maybe him and his brothers had gotten into something shady? but they weren’t like that. trouble making idiots occasionally getting their asses kicked for a busted window? sure. but criminals? them?
you couldn’t imagine it. as stupid and preachy as it sounded, you wanted there to be better for them. that you’d all be able to do something with yourselves beyond the town where you’d gotten used to police sirens late at night, the loud pops of fireworks, or something else sometimes. the murmurs in the streets when last night’s ring fight went south. the nice and less nice people in your little neighbourhood.
you had no idea what to imagine or what to think. or what to do. who to talk to.
that was until one night. where you wake up with a startle and a knock on your window.
usually, you don’t gasp so hard your throat clogs, because there was only one person you knew would be crazy enough to do this. but your head had been so cluttered lately the culprit of your misery, Luffy himself knocking at your window, was the last thing you expected. even after all these years.
except this isn’t like before. because you've never seen him in the state he was in now. his shirt crumpled like he’d thrown it on without thinking. straw hat askew on his head and his face…oh, his face.. you don’t think your heart had ever dropped harder.
despite the black eye forming on his face and the red, tissue filled nose he was sporting, he was all fucking smiles. hand at your window just in case you hadn’t seen him like you could’ve missed him in the state he was in.
slowly, out of habit you unlock the window, but your heart is beating wildly. so hard you can hear it in your ears. Luffy’s saying something about how chilly it is, but you can’t even hear him close the window behind him. your gaze is fixed on him and slowly he comes to understand. his eyes soften. there’s understanding and sadness swimming in his eyes. even something akin to shame.
“…what the hell?” you start slowly.
“N/n…” Luffy starts, reaching for you. but you won’t let him finish or get any closer, you shuffle away from him, shaking your head.
“w-what the hell..? why’re you—Luffy, what the fuck is wrong with you?!” you gasp. it comes out harshly, so harsh he flinches like you’d hit him.
“it’s..not that bad, right?” he tries to smile, it pulls at the split in his lip and he licks over the wound with a careless “ouch…” that makes your blood run cold and boil at the same time.
“why—why are you here like this?!” you whisper shriek. you almost wish he hadn’t shown up despite you aching to just be able to talk to him.
“i..i can’t go upstairs like this, gramps’ll kill me..!” he whispers back loudly, gaze pleading. you could almost slap him, you should smack him!
“wh-and you think i won’t kill you?!”
“..i was hopin’ so..” he pouts, it tries to come out as a joke but his voice is too unsteady for it.
you slump in surrender, a tired sigh escaping your mouth as you cover your face in your hands. “what the hell is going on with you, Luffy..?” you plead. “please, just…” you can’t finish your sentence.
Luffy is quiet for a long while. the draft from outside the closed window drags against it. you hear him shuffling.
“i..” he starts, voice low “i didn’t want ya to find out like this. didn’t want ya t’find out at all..” he chuckles humourlessly. “i just—it wasn’t supposed ta go that far. this guy, i recognised ‘im cus i beat him up one time, he said that his big bro heard about him and wanted to see me or somethin’. i wasn’t gonna at first, but he said he knew Ace..and he said it’d make me good money..”
“so what, you went and got your face smashed in for money?” you scoff. you decide to ignore Luffy casually mentioning beating someone up.
he frowns “i didn’t. i—we were fightin’ and i won. f’you think i look bad you should see him..” he mumbles. “and they gave me the money—and i bought a bunch of food with it!” he says excitedly, pleading “for Ace, and Sabo. and gramps. Zoro and Ussop ate from my takeout. Sanji ate some too, and Nami and Robin.. and you,” he adds “i jus’ wanted us all to have a nice, greasy meal…it started like that, at least.”
“Luffy…” you whimper, running a hand over your face. you can’t compute, you understand, you think, but it just won’t stick. “i—what you’re doing could get you in trouble. you have to stop. now.”
Luffy looks down at his lap, looking torn. he can’t look at you, his straw hat slides over his eyes, covering them.
“i can’t..”
your eyebrows furrow, something in your chest sparks painfully “…they’re threatening you, aren’t they? we can sort it out if—“
“it’s not that!” Luffy’s voice rings out. you startle, eyebrows furrowing harder in confusion.
“what are you talking about?”
“i-i can’t ‘cos..i’ve got a match next week, so..”
your chest flames, your heart throbs. your eyes sting with tears you won’t let spill and you are so unbelievably angry.
“what the fuck are you talking about, you moron?!” you spit out. Luffy’s lip trembles “i—so what, you’re some type of gangster now?! what is it? the thrill or some bullshit you heard in a boxing movie?”
“it’s not that simple, Y/n,” he mutters lowly “it’s..when i’m there, i don’t wanna stop. makes me feel..good. strong.” he breathes. and oh, the way he says it; airy, entranced. his eyes peak from under his hat and you seem them; wide and shining with the thrill of adventure like when he convinced you he could totally bike down the street with you on the back. he looks happy, like he always does. dumb and goofy, your Luffy.
“i know you think it’s about Ace or Sabo, but it’s not about them anymore, i don’t wanna drag them down but…this is—it’s like—“ he looks up like he forgot he was even talking to you, and when he sees you he frowns. you don’t understand, he can see it in your eyes. and the way his expression crumples makes your heart squeeze despite yourself.
“i—you can’t. you can’t,” you insist, strain in your voice as you lean closer to him now “Luffy—those places are bad. they’re dangerous—you could die out there!”
“i know that. just means i was too weak, then.” Luffy cuts in sharply, he continues before you can speak sense into him. “i know you and the others are worried about me. you talk to me like i’m stupid, but i’m not. i know what i’m doing. m’not a kid anymore, Y/n.” he says, voice rising with his own emotions.
“well, clearly, you don’t know what you’re doing considering you’re letting other guys beat on you for cash!!”
“i told you it’s not like that! i—i didn’t want you to find out like…this! ”
“oh, should i thank you, then?! for using my place as a shelter so you don’t get your ass whooped? i mean—fuck, Luffy! you—you dodge me for weeks—“
Luffy’s eyes widen, he splutters “i wasn’t dodgin’!”
“you were!! you were and you were lying and i was worried, you jerk! and the entire time you’re doing something like this! i—“ you cut yourself off to take a sharp, deep, breath. you feel like you’re underwater. “i thought you wanted to be free..”
Luffy’s eyes bulge, it’s almost funny how viscerally he reacts to that “..i am! it feels like i am, out there! i hate when i feel stuck sometimes but when i’m in the ring it’s like…nothing but that matters anymore!”
“what about when the cops catch you? or when you get shanked in some fuckin’ alleway—how free are you gonna be then?!”
“that’s not gonna happen.”
“and how would you know—do you hear yourself right now?!”
you’re heaving, you’re both heaving despite not having moved an inch from your bed. this for some reason brings you back to Luffy’s 11th birthday. a memory you hold dearly in your heart, that you think back on fondly. as hard as you tried, you couldn’t stay mad at Luffy. so you had to pretend to, you lie as well.
Luffy suddenly shoots up, he stumbles a bit with a wince and you’re already moving to tend to him before you can control your body, but he’s up before you can.
“you don’t get it.”
“i don’t get it?” you scoff.
“no. you don’t.” he whips around to glare at you, and it freezes you both in your tracks. Luffy moves before you, he grips his hat, and walks out of your room. you want to chase after him, to explain because he doesn’t get it, he really doesn’t. to yell, to punch and kick, you want to break something.
“when you end up dead in a ditch, don’t come crying to me!!” you yell instead, voice cracking.
you heave and keep heaving even after your door slams. and through your paper thin walls you hear the sound of his shoes descending lower and lower and out of the building to who knows where. you don’t look out of your window to know. you shove your head into your pillow and groan, before collapsing into it with a weak cry.
that was the first time Luffy had left your house without wishing you goodnight.
<Like a heartbeat, drives you mad
In the stillness of remembering
What you had and what you lost
And what you had, and what you lost. . .>
it’s a week later, the day of Luffy’s big match. and you and him haven’t talked since the fight.
you’ve been working, taking on more shifts to distract yourself. you were somewhat thankful that Luffy would fuck off to wherever he went to early so you rarely crossed him when you got back home, because when you did, it always felt like a stab to your heart.
you remember one time when you were 9, when you and Luffy had an argument. something stupid you can’t recall, but you were ignoring him. Ace and Sabo would show up to your doorstep begging you for help as Luffy had refused to leave his room until you wanted to see him again. and knowing Luffy, you knew he would hold true to that vow no matter what. you hated it, it made you feel horrible. you hated that you always had to be responsible for him because you were his one friend.
“s’not about you bein’ his friend, dummy,” Ace said, ruffling your hair “s’cos you’re you. you should see how he talks about you, it’s like…” he’d cut himself off with a laugh and didn’t continue no matter how much you pestered him. “not for me to say!” he’d say, arms raised in surrender.
fighting with Luffy never felt good, not only because you were mad. but because he’d never hide how much he missed you, he didn’t want to stay angry for long and got tired of it pretty quickly. but he knew you didn’t, so he’d let you be until you were ready to play again.
now, you haven’t spoken in days. he still stopped by the restaurant from time to time when he knew you were supposed to be on break, you guessed he couldn’t fully stay away—from the food or you, that you didn’t know. he chatted amicably with one of your coworkers, who commented about his beat up face while Luffy laughed it off.
“ you better not be gettin’ yourself in trouble. anyway, you want me to bring your favourite waiter over?” he teased.
“oh, nah—i’m good! m’sure she’s tired and i got..somewhere to be later...” he responded, then he’d ordered, grabbed his food and left. you ignored the questioning look your coworker shot you.
you’ve been hearing about the infamous fight night. the younger cooks and waiters around your age seemed to know a lot about it. placing their bets because it was apparently a big event. the new guy as, they’d dubbed him, had been pit against an “actual monster”in their words. it didn’t take much for you to put two and two together.
“i swear the guy’s insane. had to be pulled off dudes, some real bane shit.” Del joked, ignoring one of the cooks in the kitchen scolding him for slacking off “i feel bad for the new guy, he doesn’t know what he’s up against. unless he’s trynna get some clout from it, but i don’t know it that’s worth it.” he snickered, sticking his tongue out and pretend playing dead. you laughed awkwardly and swallowed hard through the lump in your throat.
The square, as most called it, was infamous and elusive at the same time. everyone around the corner knew about it, but never first hand, always word of mouth or people straight up lying. nobody knew what it looked like inside and it was rare to meet people who were actually involved in the scheme, they were very secretive—apparently, you had to be invited to these types of events or be a big deal investor. this just made you even more confused as to how Luffy had managed to get roped into something like this.
you couldn’t imagine anybody that was loaded ending up on this side of town to come looking for new talent. but Del, ever the connoisseur, had explained that that was exactly why they came over here in the first place.
“they look for dude’s that are starved for cash or thrills or who just wanna make it outta here. deal they can’t refuse type shit.” he’d said easily while you were on break together, sitting outside. “speakin’ of, i didn’t know you were into this kinda stuff, Y/n.”
“oh, yeah,” you chuckled shyly “guess i’m just getting curious, everyone’s talkin’ about it after all.”
“don’t get too curious, now.” he teased and laughed when you shoved his shoulder.
it’s friday night, night of the big fight, it had been the buzz in the restaurant the entire evening like it was a game of football. boys excitedly talking and placing bets, some you thought were way to young to be knowing about this topic but joined in to seem cool. by closing time, you were bussing tables with a hole in your chest. fingers tight around the cloth to keep them from shaking with nerves. you clock out early with the knot in your throat that had been building since last week threatening to close off all air flow as you walked home, alone. fifteen minutes before your next train.
you get home without a hitch, or any sign of Luffy. you freeze on your way up the stairs to listen for any sign of your upstairs neighbours. it’s quiet and you’re tempted to go check in with them, to ask Ace and Sabo if they knew. Luffy had mentioned that his grandfather would kill him if he found out that he fought, but what of his brothers?
you decide to head home.
later on, you awaken with a jolt. but maybe it’s a reflex because when your head whips to your bedroom window, there’s nothing. no one. you glance at your phone, a thousand thoughts racing through you.
fuck it, you decide, snatching your phone from the table. but you can’t even look for his contact because there’s a knock at your door.
well not a knock, a pounding at your door followed by softer knocks like the person behind the door just realised that you might be asleep. but then there’s an incessant ringing on your doorbell. you shoot up, because you at least know what time it is, and only one person in the world could be this ignorant.
you swing the door open and there he stands—Luffy. just slightly bruised, clothes crumpled and heaving like he ran here. his hands are wrapped up to his knuckles and in his hand—a bag of steaming hot takeout.
“i…i didn’t know if you were awake still,” Luffy heaves, his nose is red and eyes a bit puffy. he wipes his nose with a sniffle, there’s red on the sleeve of his bomber jacket.
“i—i came here as fast as i could after i was done. i couldn’t think about nothin’ else. but i had to come with something so i went to your job and you weren’t there but the owner let me order even though they were already closing.”
Luffy was rambling at the speed of sound, so fast you could barely catch up, but just barely, being used to years of his fast pace. his eyes darted and his fingers twitched with adrenaline.
“Luffy—“
“i—!” Luffy cuts you off because he can’t stop talking, a weeks worth of what he couldn’t say flying out of his mouth “usually…when i win i feel…unstoppable. i feel strong and it feels good. but tonight i didn’t care. it was a big fight, too. but it was easy but—i—it didn’t feel good. i felt gross. and my hands hurt.” Luffy pleads for you without saying it, eyes swimming with sadness when his sweet brown eyes finally connect with yours “it doesn’t feel good when you’re mad at me, Y/n..” his voice cracks. his fingers itch for you but he stops himself, taking a deep breath.
“s-so i brought you food! it’s what you like. promise i didn’t eat from it. it smells super good and i almost took a fry but i didn’t cus i-i wanted—“
Luffy freezes when you grab his bandaged hand. the words stay trapped in his throat.
“Luffy.” you repeat firmly. you don’t know what to say yet, but you just had to stop him, even just for a little while.
your hand tangles with his because as soon as he registers you’re touching him again he won’t let go, his body won’t let him. so your other hand reaches up to run through his hair, and down to his cheek. the exhale he lets out is akin to a sigh of relief. he melts completely, leaning into your palm and turning to press his mouth to it. he closes his eyes and inhales in pure bliss, still in your doorway.
“i was careful, and i went super quick. i didn’t wanna get hurt again and worry ya..” he drops the takeout bag to the floor softly but quickly and brings his hand up to cover yours, pressing it harder into his skin like he could fuse with you. his lips press to your skin softly after each word.
“m’sorry for lyin’ to ya,” kiss “and hidin’ from ya,” two kisses “and worryin’ ya.” three kisses. it makes you huff out a laugh and a smile pull to his lips, he teethes just lightly at your skin to make you squeeze his hand in reprimand.
“i don’t want you to hate me, Y/n. hate it more than anythin’. even more than losin’ or when ace eats my food.” you giggle at his words, shaking your head.
“i don’t hate you, Lu..i never could..” you admit softly, tears already burning behind your eyes. “what i said to you—it was..horrible. i shouldn’t have—i never should’ve, i was just so..angry. i couldn’t understand why you’d throw away your life like this, i still don’t.” you admit to him, Luffy’s gaze stays faithfully on yours and he listens. his eyes follow along with your words, his hand squeezes yours.
your hand, still on his face, brushes over his features. soft scars and soft skin, the raised skin of his scar and the place where the bandaid over his eyebrow had been just a few days earlier. replaced by a small cut under his bottom lip.
“s’alright, i’m not mad,” he reassures sincerely, nuzzling into your touch whenever he could. finally he grabs your wrist to still you so he could look at you firmly “we can forget about it, yeah?” he pleads.
you swallow hard “i don’t think i can just forget this, Luffy.”
Luffy swallows harshly , but he forces a nod that looks more like a jerk, that was how hard he forced it. “yeah…i figured.” Luffy leans until he’s close enough to press his forehead to yours. “i promise i’ll be super careful. i promise i’ll do my best so you won’t have to see me beat up anymore—i’ll get better! i’ll get stronger! i just…”
Luffy had proclaimed so many years ago he’d be the freest man in the world. and if this was freedom for him, who were you to stop him? bitterly, you swallow back the lump in your throat, your arms falling limp next to you. slowly, they press to his chest, not to push, but to steady. you press harder to feel the warmth of his chest. Luffy winces lightly, so light you almost wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t so close.
you sigh, resigned. “if you’re gonna get beat up anyway, i’d much rather you tell me. and let me do something about this—“ you scoff a humourless laugh, looking up at him “mess.”
Luffy deflates and re-inflates so quickly you almost don’t see the shift before he’s grabbing your shoulders and squeezing—tight, so tight there was nowhere for you to slip away to. he wraps his arms around your back, tucking his head into your shoulder and pressing his mouth there.
“i’ll come to you,” he mumbles against your clothes “i promise.”
your arms wrap around his by instinct, and you finally allow yourself to sigh in relief, the lump in your throat melts like honey. you both sit there, in the doorway of your crummy apartment full of memories; moving vans and balconies. bike rides and barbecues. your Luffy with his bandaged fists and the smell of antiseptic somewhere on him.
finally, you pull away when your senses return—smelling the bag of takeout still sitting there. “the food’ll get cold.” you warn quietly, joking. making no move to let him go.
with a light chuckle, Luffy responds “i don’t mind reheatin’ it.” you both giggle.
you slowly separate and it’s like the world takes its course again. Luffy brings the bag inside, kicks the door closed behind him and kicks off his shoes diligently at the doorstep. he freezes before remembering to get the placemats before placing any food on the coffee table—and you both sit in front of the tv, playing some late night show you both tune out.
Luffy’s hand reaches for and intertwine with yours. it’s a bit hard to eat with one hand but you make do. Luffy turns to look at you, “yours looks good.” he says uselessly. you roll your eyes, squeezing his hand.
“you’re not getting my food.”
you get a whine in response. he perches his chin onto your shoulder; because he knows how this goes anyway—you feed him a bite anyway. Luffy moans as soon as the food lands in his mouth.
“mmm—sho good,” he groans “i totally knew it.”
“no talking with your mouth full.” you chide. the boy next to you giggles, pressing a kiss to his cheek—you complain about his grease mouth, and the world takes it’s course again.
you rub at his bandaged and bruised knuckles; and trust that next time, he’ll come to you. like he always does. no more words need to be exchanged.
a/n.: aaaaand that's part one!!! we'll see where this goes from here. i really like this and this is the first time ive written this much in a while, i hope you'll all enjoy it too!! underground fighter luffy...oh, how i crave you..</3
puru, puru, puru—anon's callin'! ─=≡Σ((( つ＞＜)つ (this was an anon requested fic! thank you for sending me my first request!) this takes place during episode 1100! use of y/n, neutral reader, kissing
the ground is trembling under you. or maybe it’s some sort of drum, a faint beat catches your ears. either way, you’re too distracted by the sight in front of you to focus on it for more than a few seconds.
amongst it all—all the chaos, the collapsing buildings, the rubble and smoke, he is there. luffy. in all his glory, literally. striking white hair, glowing tan skin and that impossibly bright smile. his entire being threatens to blind you. earlier, he'd been preparing to battle with lucci, then he'd started to change. clothes and hair transforming into a shiny, milky white.
it’s the first time you’d seen him, like this, so up close…besides of course, the time you’d seen his gigantic face burst through the ceiling of kaido’s fortress, but you’re half convinced maybe you were delirious and that hadn’t happened.
(you refuse to believe that actually happened.)
you don’t know if luffy has any recollection of those events. hell, you don’t even know if he’s luffy right now. the way he moves—that uncontrollable laughter despite the chaos surrounding him—he looks out of place and fits right into the chaos in a way you can’t describe. maybe he’s forcing it to be this way, the buildings and ground are fluid and in constant motion to move just like he does. the ground bounces and jumps every time he springs down on it like some kind of trampoline; forming to fit him in.
you look down at your feet. that’s the trembling, you realise for a moment, before your attention returns to luffy. pulled to him like the entire world seemed to be.
but it only takes those few seconds of your eyes away from him for luffy to notice you. he already knew you were here, maybe he thought you'd already gone. but he notices you—and gods, he makes it known.
“AH—Y/N!!” luffy calls loudly, so loudly you feel like you’re hearing it echo into the air. it startles you, you freeze in place like that call had told you to stop right at that moment and your body obeyed. he’s not using haki, at least you don’t think, so you don’t know what this could possibly be.
luffy doesn’t give you time to think about it though as he completely forgets the leopard in front of him oozing with blood lust, easily shooting away from him and higher in the air. his tongue lolls out, so unnaturally long it could drop to the floor—eyes popping out of his sockets and forming into hearts. even little hearts form into the air around him. you’re about to call out to him, to be careful as lucci looks like he’s about to attack again, charging up for a downright feral strike, but scarily, luffy dodges the swing without even looking away—now that luffy’s seen you, he’s seen you.
lucci is yelling, something about him getting distracted—but in that moment, luffy is pulled to you.
he charges up, literally, arms to his sides as his legs spin so fast they blur, unintentionally blowing the large man away and he’s rushing towards you with an uncontrollable laugh.
he graces you with the split second warning—then he’s in front of you before you can blink, before you can scream or even gasp out his name.
he catches up before your bain can and wraps his arms around you—two, three, six times ? you can’t tell. you can’t tell where he starts or ends, he’s wrapped around you with arms and legs, humming happily as literal hearts surround you both.
your brain catches up right then, and a scream stays clogged in your throat, there are more pressing matters. “lu—“ you start, but luffy cuts you off.
“y/n!! y/n, y/n , y/n!” luffy cheers, rubbing his cheek against yours affectionately. he presses a wet kiss to your cheek and the loud cartoony “SMOOOOOOOCH!!” sound makes your head spin. you feel you’re body is being dragged along into luffy like everything else is, you feel light on your feet—pliant like you could do anything and even yet you’d want to be nowhere else but by his side.
“y/n—i missed ya!!” he giggles, taking a bite of your cheek. just as quickly as he was tangled around you he detaches himself and springs back up—the force causing you to twirl uncontrollably, threatening to make you sick. you hear luffy laugh, his arms snatch your shoulders to brace you. you don’t know how your neck didn’t snap from the force of it but you can’t focus on anything else with him in literally your face. he presses his forehead to yours, hands cupped around your face so all you could see was him him him, just like he sees you you and only you. he’s floating a bit off the ground.
“didja see me?! i looked cool right? ya thought i looked cool, yeah?!”
this is the first time you’ve ever been this close to him in this form. you feel his flowy hair tickle between your eyebrows, his hands warm like the sun around your face, his big cheeky smile almost pressed to your mouth. and his striking bright shell-pink eyes fixed you in place. you couldn’t look away even if you wanted to.
(not like you wanted to.)
reflexively, still trying to catch your breath, you lick your lips to respond (luffy’s eyes immediately flick towards the motion).
“i—yeah, i saw you, lu..” you heave.
he grins “and i looked cool!”
“super cool..” you whisper back.
again, luffy wraps himself around you happily, so happy you think you might float off with him.
"l-luffy—! lucci’s still—“you gasp to remind him, but cut off by luffy’s gasp of realisation. his arms tighten around your neck unconsciously and you squeak.
“ah—yeah right, that guy!” luffy looks back to the rubble and smoke, his hand in front of his eyes as he hums thoughtfully. he cups his hands around his eyes to act is binoculars “eh? ehhhhh? where’d he go?!”
you’re about to tell him he should go back to him, to take this even a little serious at least until a form appears from the smoke—the leopard runs straight towards you. he’s fast, different than you remember from what seems like so long ago.
but luffy isn’t worried. he laughs like it’s all he knows and grabs your face yet again.
“wait for me, kay? i’ll go finish this real quick! promise! won’t even notice i’m gone!” he says between smooches, the words “smooch!” “kiss!”, “muah!” dance around your eyes with every press of his lips to yours. he shoots off just as quickly as he’d gotten here. leaving you completely stunned. a warm hand lands on your shoulder, jimbei, telling you you should all hurry back and bring bonney back to safety now. the knowing smile on his face is hard to hide and you swallow back your embarrassment with a nod, taking off again.
you look back. further away, luffy keeps laughing, easily sending the older man flying yet again, his eyes don’t meet yours during it all but you know he’ll be done soon.
you stumble a few times due to the unbalanced, bouncy terrain, stumbling but clumsily landing back on your feet with a bounce, and a sharp laugh despite yourself. just like he said, you don’t even notice he’s gone when the entire world bends to pull you towards him.
Capnolagnia MDNI 18+
Sir Crocodile x reader
wc: 4,632
a/n: if there're typos i'm okay with that rn as i was up all night listening to off to the races by lana del rey to get this out of my system. bone apple titteh
Capnolagnia is a sexual fetish based on the pulmonary consumption of tobacco, most often via cigarettes, cigars
It had taken weeks to get the motion right, to earn the privilege to sit perched on his desk with his hook resting on your lap. Carefully running the whetstone along the metal you tried to ignore the weight of his gaze while you worked. It wasn’t a new position by any means, ignoring the reports spilling from the den den mushi at your hip as well. You couldn’t help but think it would be easier if he detached it and let you work on it elsewhere.
But you also knew that he preferred this, feeling the metal on your lap shift as he reached for the cigar that had been smoldering in the ashtray. If he noticed that the whetstone paused as he lifted the cigar to his mouth he didn’t show it. But you were unable to focus, the flow state disrupted as the hand steadying the hook tightened, watching as best you could as he tucked it between his lips.
Watched as his chest rose slowly, fabric shifting, stretching, as he pulled the smoke into his mouth. It wasn’t until the merigold irises shifted beneath the hooded gaze to meet yours that you realized you’d been staring outright. Blatantly locked on the small gap between his lips showing the smoke curled on his tongue. It could only be more embarrassing if you’d leaned forward for a closer look, or to try and steal a taste for yourself.
In an attempt to avoid being disciplined, you focused on the task at hand, hunching over your lap in an attempt to look even more invested. Smoke eddied just at the edge of your vision, looking almost alive as it crept out of his mouth as he exhaled slowly. And if the breath you took though your nose was deeper than the previous ones, that was only because you’d been holding it to really lock in. It itched, settling in your sinuses, acrid and bitter at the back of your throat with an underscore of spice you couldn’t place.
“Bothered?’
Had you made a face? Pretty sure you hadn’t, attention flicking briefly towards his face to try and read his expression before looking back down. But you had to answer, didn’t you? Not answering could be seen as disrespectful, struggling to find an answer that could get you out of the conversation looming in your near future. You could say no, which was true in a way but he’d know you were holding back. And if you said yes he might take that as uppity. Which you could not afford. The last staff member who’d gotten uppity and found themselves falling down the hatch to feed the bananawani.
“Not much.’
As close to the truth as you could get, without making a fool of yourself. How were you supposed to explain you weren’t bothered, but bothered as he sucked on the end of the cigar? That it did things watching him gently coax the ember down the paper wrapped tobacco with short tugs as tendrils of smoke seeped from the corner of his mouth? That your hands were losing coordination with every passing moment because you were fighting the urge to shove the hook off your lap to crawl into his?
You fucking didn’t, because that would be a stupid thing to do. Which part? All of them, any of them, forcing yourself not to watch as he teased another mouthful of smoke. Or the way his jaw shifted as rolled it around, as if it was a sweet he was savoring. He’d taste bitter, from the smoke, but underneath that would be something else. Was it terrible that you could feel yourself salivating at the thought of that particular bit of exploration?
Probably.
Your finger itched, and you frowned realizing you’d been watching the way his lips had lightly pursed. The way the wrinkles deepened slightly before fading away. Looking at it confirmed the cut, that went from itchy to painful once you saw it, blood seeping from the slit made by the edge you’d sharpened yourself. Had he noticed? Grabbing the rag you used to smear oil along the metal, you gave it a quick buff to apply a coat and wipe away the hint of blood before using it to try and hide the wound.
Terrible idea, your breath catching at the sharp pang that rattled your nerves, trying to cover it with a cough. Which was almost as terrible an idea, hand lifting to place the back of your hand in front of your mouth. The smoke that brushed over your skin should have been expected, eyes stinging as you took a breath tasting the secondhand smoke. The errant thought that it was like drinking from the same spot on a cup crossed your mind. Knowing the smoke had been allowed to settle on the tongue for the flavor before being blown in your direction.
You were going to blame the heat, only someone bordering on delirium would be thinking about indirect kisses right now. Or maybe the smoke was making you light headed, that could be an issue for sure. Not the fact that you could feel your pulse pounding in places it shouldn’t, blood rushing south like a pirate chasing after the One Piece. Definitely needed to get out of here, offering what you hoped looked like an apologetic smile.
“How bad is it?’
Bad, very bad, it would only take an implication that he wanted you off the desk and on your knees to- The cut, he’d noticed the cut and was asking about it, though he was staring intently at your face. Not concern then, probably thought you were going to use it as an excuse for shoddy work. Not true, your work hadn’t suffered, you could have called it quits ten minutes ago. Your underwear however was another thing entirely.
“I finished.’ You wished you had, might be able to stop imagining pulling that stupid scarf from his neck with your teeth. “Just needed a bit of oil for shine. So it’s, um, I’ve finished.’
It took everything not to hop off the desk and make a run for it as he lifted his hook from your lap. Watching as he twisted it to inspect it, the ember of his cigar lighting the curve as it glowed while he took a long slow draw of smoke. If there was a god watching over you it was a malicious and cruel thing, probably giggling and kicking its feet in absolute delight as you watched Sir Crocodile slowly expel the smoke from his nose. Spilling across his mouth, to trickle over that damn scarf.
You were not okay. What you needed was to leave before he figured out… Any of it to be honest, having him aware of your fascination could not possibly be good for your health. But then he was settling back in his chair, the frame creaking as it accommodated the shifting mass. He could make you creak, watching as he continued to inspect your work, taking another long slow drag.
Did he know?
That seemed like a jump, and a distressingly hopeful one at that. How could he have leapt to that conclusion given the fact you’d been very still damn near the entire time. Had to be, any relent could have led to disaster. You ached in a way that didn’t belong in this place or time. It wasn’t as if he’d said anything, touched anywhere, done anything that had you down so bad to fuck you were prepared to beg. He’d just sat there, smoking his cigar, ignoring your existence for damn near the entire time.
“Looks good.’
There’s a flicker of something in his tone, as if disappointed that you did a good job. Like he’d been hoping for you to fuck it up, to give him a reason. To do what you really didn’t want to know, trying to gauge if you had enough room to get off the desk and the hell out of the room. But even as your hips slid, body leaning forward, he came back in, and you froze. He was closer now, the hook suddenly looking in your vision.
And that should have managed what your mental flogging had not. Should have managed to quench the lust that had your thoughts tumbling like acrobats. Making leaps that would have required some kind of stretch, leaving you clumsy handed enough to be injured. But it didn’t, taking slow, selfish breaths through your nose trying to puzzle out what he wanted. When it lowered your gaze followed, as if attached by a wire you couldn’t see.
Feeling the warm metal tap your chin surprised you, head tilting as he applied pressure before hearing a small negative hum. Your toes should not have curled as you lifted your head to meet his gaze, slowly opening your mouth. This close you could see his pupils narrowed at the bottom. Subtle but there, making you wish he’d open his eyes properly so you could see them properly.
The air he blew into your mouth felt cool, though that could just be the passing of it over your too wet mouth. You should have swallowed first, and God help you but you would if he gave you half a chance. The shameless thought was probably what did you in, your empty hand reaching out for that damned scarf and crushing the fabric. Had to be the precursor to chasing the smoke to the source so to speak, using the fabric fact as a handle to try and pull him closer.
It was like trying to move stone, he didn’t so much as shift, watching as you placed your bets on a rigged table. Dumb, very dumb, his lips unresponsive under yours, focusing on the skin that was lightly stained. Possibly suicidal, some residual remains of your self preservation leaving your body tense as it waited for the hook you’d just cared for to pierce. But then he moved, a flare of panic making you jerk as leaned forward, invaded what little space had separated you. It had looked painful, frozen for a brief instant before feeling the tension melt and puddle as his lips parted.
Still watching, the movement almost too subtle if not for the fact you were hyper aware of everything. When you pulled on the scarf again he shifted, head leaning to the side slightly as you deepened the kiss. Chased the taste of smoke only to get lost in the mix of bitter and dark mingling with a sour sweet taste that pulled a moan from you. This was bad, you needed to pull back, forcing your eyes to open just realize his had probably never closed. Breaking the kiss far too late by any stretch of the imagination, you hiccuped once before gulping in air.
There wasn’t enough in the room, the insistent thrum in your veins as your blood continued racing south was making it hard to think. Hard to regret what you’d done as that taste settled in the back of your throat, much like he could let his co- Movement stilled your thoughts, shameless as they were, watching as he lifted his hand and tucked the cigar into his mouth. His eyes never left you as he teased a mouthful of smoke from it. Yours however couldn’t rest, caught only briefly by his, before lowering to his barely parted lips as he pulled the cigar away.
You hadn’t realized that he’d leaned back, or that you’d followed, until you fell forward off the desk, free hand landing on his vest. The other? Still gripping the scarf as though it were some sort of anchor, gaze moving from his mouth back up to meet his. There was a challenge there, daring you to keep pushing your luck. But you were too deep to fold now, tightening your grip on the fine fabric and pulling. A slow, inexorable pressure that either he gave in to, or you used to pull yourself into his lap.
The slow curl of his lips was a violent assault against the gossamer threads left of your self control, feeling them snap one by one as you pulled him back in. Warmth against your lips as he slowly exhaled, taking in a slow careful breath that left your mouth tingling and the back of your throat ticklish. The ink well clattered when you bumped into the desk, his mouth crashing against yours as he tucked his left arm behind you.
Feet briefly dangling, you landed with a thump that set your teeth into his tongue, pulling a groan from his chest. Sucking on the invading muscle, still tugging as if it were possible for him to get closer, you were vaguely aware of the sound of items clattering as he shoved them out of the way. Back arching when some part of you noticed that he’d not followed as quickly as you’d gone, you were rewarded with a low chuckle.
Had to be a little dissociative fantasy, probably brought on by heat and those damn cigars. You’d been stifled and it led to this. He was probably glaring at you right now, impatient to have you out of his office so he could work in peace. Without some low level staff taking up space on his desk when there were more important things to do.
Well Sir Crocodile could wait, watching him put that forsaken cigar in his mouth and pull, eyes closing briefly as a few flakes of ash broke free. The angry hiss as it was ground out in the ashtray made them fly back open, brain insisting for a deranged moment that it wouldn’t sizzle that way against ceramic. You tugged, yanked really, and he obeyed which made you almost as light headed as the smoke he coaxed into your mouth. That moment of power, commanding and being obeyed shredded the last bit of inhibition that was begging for caution.
Not that he seemed interested in caution, beringed hand cupping your hip and squeezing. Hard enough to bruise, struggling to breathe between the weight of him slowly settling on you as you chased that smoke flavor past teeth exposed by smile and dark laughter. You really didn’t care what he was thinking, as long as he kept doing. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that this could end abruptly, with him bored of playing with you, staring down at you sprawled on his desk.
So you were going to take, yanking at the scarf, sliding the hand that had been pressed to his vest upwards. His hair was slick as you tangled your fingers in it, fine and oiled well past decency. Did it absorb it as the day passed? Shivering as you tightened your grip and felt it drip down your wrist. Probably, but that wasn’t your problem, squirming as you tried to work your trapped leg loose so you could wrap them.
The rock of his body flooded the cellar, a rush of arousal rocking through you like a tidal wave. The position was all wrong, but that little desperate move almost sent you tumbling toe over temple into the pleasure that was mind numbing. He didn’t seem to care, or notice he’d done it, that hand on your hip pinning you against the desk. As if you had anywhere else you were trying to be, like your fingers tangled in silk weren’t half numb from clenching too hard for way too long.
“Strip.’
That one word should have been what woke you. Should have snapped you out of it and plopped you rudely back into reality. But it didn’t, swiping your oily hand on your front before working on access to the only important part of your anatomy. The part that was screaming for more attention than the brief moments of pressure and friction of your own clothing. That was so very certain it was ready, sight unseen, depths untouched, to take what was clearly out of its league inside the tailored slacks.
Your hip throbbed where the heel of his hand had been pressing, squirming at the mingled relief and discomfort as you realized he was digging through a drawer. Did he- Nevermind, didn’t care why it was there, just grateful it was. Now that you weren’t smothered and able to take in full breaths of air your brain was able to get much needed oxygen. Enough to actually look, to take in the situation and rationally understand what your body very much didn’t give a tinker’s damn about.
At over eight foot tall you hadn’t expected him to be an expected average, but now you were thinking maybe a thigh job would be the smarter idea. Your body, however, was quick to shove that useless bit of self preservation aside as those sunset eyes shifted back to you and the hand that had been flicking open the container froze.
…
…..
You could definitely take it, not sure what you’d been worried about, listening to the low murmur of his voice as the curved side of his hook trailed from hip to knee. Too fucking drunk on lust to bother actually hear what he was saying, just basking in the tone of it, and shamelessly rolling over when his fingers pushed. Honestly you weren’t sure it was completely English, it seemed to be some bastard mix of his own. Working your lower body upwards slowly, taking care to make sure your forearms were on the desk itself and none of the papers, you almost lost progress feeling a slick finger lightly trace before slowly pressing in.
Pressing back, you clenched hearing the low amused rumble, well and truly past shame. You could still taste the cigar, though you’d only gotten its flavor secondhand, trying to urge him to the next step with every rock of your body. The stretch as he added a second finger curved your spine, panting against the wood as he worked them in and out. Too slow for what you wanted, gasping as he finger fucked you until your body shook. A sip, if that, of the roiling depths that threatened to take you under, begging him to just fuck you. You could take it, would take it, just let you show him, please, please, please-
“Keep that up and I’ll forget to take my time.’
If that’s meant to be a threat it fails, miserably, promising anything that comes to mind. Your breath catching in your throat as he pulled his hand away, only to be viscerally disappointed when he added a third finger with a new application of the lubricant. Not that your mind wasn’t immediately pointing out how your body was clenching around the intrusion, the lubricant only able to do so much. And if he seemed to be determined to finger fuck you through a proper orgasm, that should absolutely be concerning.
No, brain, that was thoughtful. You were a sobbing mess on the desk, fingers uselessly attempting to grab a flat surface as his rammed into you. The tips dragged over the nerve center inside until you were shaking, whole body rocking back as his touch retreated. And you probably amused him again as you scrambled to get away, feeling the bracer section of his hook pin you in place as his fingers ground down as you orgasmed.
It was mean, feeling your fluids all the way to your chest as he kept going until your leg gave out. Couldn’t tell which one, left and right were hazy on a good day. This was a great day and you were honestly questioning if those were in fact your legs. Nodding even though you didn’t remember hearing him ask anything, you managed to lever your body off the desk slightly. Worth the effort, draping yourself gratefully over the round section, feeling his fingers attempt to spread apart a few times before pulling free.
You ten minutes ago would have understood the warning sign. But not you leaking fluids on the desk, including, you were pretty sure, what brain cells you’d had available at the beginning of the day. Because if you’d had any you might have thought to protest the slick back and forth motion of what you were too slow to realize was not a tongue. Weren’t even sure why you’d assumed such an idiotic thing as he rested his glans against your entrance for a moment.
As if he was the one who needed to prepare himself, everything clicking into place when his thumb helped force it in. You forgot what breathing was, slack with shock as he pressed forward, pulling back only a centimeter before bullying the next bit in. He had to fight for each inch, your body refusing to allow for the slick glide promised by the added lubricant. When he pulled back halfway in, you were caught between begging him not to, and relieved he was giving up. It was a lot, brain smart, body dumb, maybe some more of whatever was in the not snuff b-
The thrust forward derailed. Thought, breath, heartbeat, your body felt like it forgot how to function. All it knew was that he’d just decided physics didn’t matter so neither did it. The veins felt like they were attempting to imprint on your insides, force your body to make room. Dragging your body backwards before pulling out an inch or so before slamming back in again. Denial of entry wasn’t an option apparently, feeling the way his cock pulsed with an influx of blood as your body gripped it.
You were attempting to brace for him to do it again, unable to keep from bearing down on him. He shouldn’t be touching the back of your throat, there was too much in the way, but it felt like it as you squirmed, body clenching against the too much. His hand cupping your shoulder felt nice, you deserved the comforting clasp for this. There was no way to have actually prepared for this, pressing your shoulder into the grip.
Never felt quite so dumb in your life, actually, sobbing brokenly as his hips snapped, using his grip on your shoulder to force you back into each one. As if you had the sort of coordination to scramble over his hook when you couldn’t prove sight unseen that you had legs at all. Realized as he crooned down at you that he’d taken that moment of appreciation for acceptance, that you’d had enough time to acclimate.
It hadn’t not been enough time, though you were in fact sure he’d managed to fuck his way past organs that had been as deterrent as tissue paper right up your throat from the wrong side. You certainly were struggling to breathe, managing to do so in the desperate way someone drowning does breaking the surface. Except you were being smothered, his body dragging against your back, shirt clinging to your sweat damp skin. His weight forcing your body to conform to the round side of the wrist section which made less room inside you were sure of it.
The brief stroking of his thumb had been the sign the end was near, though it hadn’t translated that way in the moment. You’d thought his hand was slipping, because his grip tightened before this hips performed war crimes that left you breathless and blind as the overstimulation of being overstretched sent you tumbling into an orgasm that took away your ability to think, breathe, your raw throat raspy as you suppressed a scream unwillingly.
Your insides were hot, which could have been from the abuse, or from the semen that he rutted into you, fingertips digging into your collarbone as if you required a painful warning not to move. You couldn’t move if his precious Nona came through the door, feeling the way the semen trickled out of you to your thighs as he finally pulled out with a few final thrusts near the entrance.
The chair creaks as he works his left arm from beneath you and falls into it. You slowly slide from the desk to the floor at his feet, body twisting after you land and your lower body screams a protest. But the marble is cold, if a bit sticky, leaning against his shin as your body struggles to remember how to do mundane tasks. Like regulate your heartbeat, which you feel every thump of in places you’d only know blood travelled in theory. Collect oxygen, which you needed more of, your vision blurry around the edges.
As if to add insult to injury, you can hear him lighting a cigar above you. Like that hadn’t been the whole stimulus that started this. Can feel your body give the most pathetic attempt at interest before giving up the effort leaving you slumped and wheezing. Maybe they should actually look into rights for sex dolls, it had seemed funny at the tavern that one time. But now you kind of understood.
The foot under your thigh shifted, and then you were moving, slid out of the way as a pitcher and handkerchief were held in your line of sight. You were barely swallowing what little saliva your body was capable of producing, sucking on a damp cloth would only so do mu- A flex of abused flesh sent a trickle of… something out of you.
Oh…
Pouring some water went embarrassingly bad, your hands shaking so much you splashed more on you than the cloth. Which you attempted to reason all came out right in the end pulling your top down and refusing to inspect it too closely. What you didn’t have was the other half of your clothing, slowly turning to rest against the desk, head tilting back to ask even if just with a tired the fuck man kind of expression.
Only to be met with an expression that seemed to be battling with amusement and exasperation, having apparently watched you clean yourself up and unsure as to why. You weren’t sure why that was a question, looking at the second cloth he held out, which was not yours either, and glancing down pointedly. So you followed suit, and saw the smear of… things on his shoe where you’d landed, feeling the hollow echo of shock attempt to coax outrage into the fore.
It tried, really it did, but even as you leaned forward, with some misguided thought as to using the arm of his chair to stand, your middle cramped. Just a twinge, a taste, definitely a warning, hand hovering just over your lap letting you know you’d managed to maybe rock slightly forward not even a full attempt to rise. Gaze flicking from the cloth on his hook, to the cigar he was holding to his mouth with fingers that were still glistening, you decided it wasn’t worth fighting over. Not at this angle, giving a brief jerk of your head that could generously be called a yes, and catching the cloth before it landed on your lap.
Dunking it into the pitcher, refusing to look up, you wiped at the mess on his shoe trying really hard not to note how much there was. Which meant you absolutely had to turn a blind eye to the floor, could not think about the fact that there was a literal puddle. Or that there was something still dripping down into it, barely resisting the urge to dump the water left in the pitcher on the shoe you’d just finished cleaning.
A soft noise made you pause in putting the cloth down, and your eyelid twitched as his chair spun slightly bringing the toe of his other shoe into range.
content ⋆ MDNI. unprotected sex, rough sex, hook play, edging, smoking, dacryphilia, overstimulation, subspace if you squint, creampie, aftercare, crocodile calls you little bird, little one, and uses ‘atta girl.’ — WC : 2.4k
The sun sets in Alabasta, the last of it’s radiant light filters through the windows of your room. It’s been weeks since you’ve last been here, tasked with gathering information out on the Grand Line for your employer, Mr. Zero.
You’re one of his best spies, but when you’re back here, the closest thing you’ll ever have of home, a new role takes place. One that remains by his side. It never starts with any false grandeur tales of romance or wooing, no, the precedent has always been set — it’s purely transactional.
Yet you give yourself to him every time.
Somewhere along the way, gravity shifts in the way it does with all powerful men. Gone are the layers you cling onto, shed by a single look of unchallenged authority that leaves you at the mercy of his orbit.
The nature of your relationship thrives in the world of discretion – sounds of sin muffled in the sheets of half-lit rooms, slinking away at the cusp of dawn when the last kiss of night trickles down your spine, and stolen glances throughout the day that make your heart sing.
But tonight, he’s impatient.
A flash of gold metal catches your eyes before it rests against your chest with incredible speed. The precision never fails to take your breath away, winded within the first few minutes of being in his grasp.
Sir Crocodile looks down at you, seemingly unimpressed, but the glint of mischief in his heated eyes exposes the truth he could never hide from. He enjoys reducing you to ruin.
“Easy, little bird.” He rumbles, his voice as coarse and rough as sand. “No sudden movements.”
It’s not like you’re itching to go anywhere, you’re exactly where you want to be.
The unforgiving tip of his hook catches on the flimsy fabric that drapes over your body before sharply flicking his wrist. It tears at his command, the threads ripping one by one as he moves downward until the kiss of metal pinches your skin.
Your lips part at the beginnings of a gasp but the look he gives you makes you swallow down the rest of the feeble noise.
The only way to be rewarded is to listen when it comes to Sir Crocodile — failure and disappointment is never an option. He’s not above leaving you unsatisfied and he will do it if you test his patience too much. The phantom ache between your thighs becomes a quiet, gnawing pain at the memory.
“You’ve been gone for quite some time, I'll be expecting a full report. Just tell me one thing,” His hook trails down the lace of your underwear and rips it all away in a single, precise swipe. You're left breathless and bare underneath him, at his mercy. “Were you successful?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, sir.” His ringed fingers dance along your mound before gripping your inner thigh to pry it open. His gaze lingers, inspecting your glistening folds. Another one of his tests.
Need presses in from all sides, suffocating you with what you want so dearly. To be touched, consumed, devoured by the man that takes everything he wants without remorse. A dangerous drip of desire ripples down your spine, waiting for him to do something, anything.
“Good.” His digit nudges along the slick of your entrance, teasing but not giving you nearly enough. "Don't forget your place.”
His gilded hook splays across your stomach, the heavy weight serving as a reminder to heed his warning. It shackles you in place, leaving you no choice but to look at him as his thick digits enter you.
Your moan is the only chance of escape you’ll ever have, the sound of freedom tumbles past your lips without permission as he stretches you open.
Sir Crocodile watches you, seemingly bored, pumping his finger until you’re close enough to crumble.
If only it were that easy.
Tension builds, your clit pulses and the sweet kiss of release is but a breaths away. Pleasure has never come so deceptively easily, restraint teetering along the edge of surrender. Your body hums with ecstasy, thighs trembling in its wake and as soon at you begin to fall into bliss — it’s all taken away, leaving you empty.
Sir Crocodile is an evil man. You know this, it’s never been a secret, but right now you fall victim to the extent of his viciousness. He can see it in your eyes, the plump pout of your lips and he only chuckles, bringing his finger to his mouth.
You’re sweet — sinfully so. It makes his skin crawl as his tongue tries to memorize the taste of redemption he’ll never earn. He grunts around his own fingers, lapping around the jeweled rings that remind him of the height of his power while he savors your essence to the last drop.
But Sir Crocodile is a greedy man, he will take and take and take until his appetite is satiated.
“You want to come? Then work for it.” He orders.
The self appointed desert king lights his cigar until the end burns a ruby red. It dangles from his mouth as he indulges in a few unhurried puffs. The rich, earthy smoke lazily flumes past his lips before he directs it to you, the second hand buzz dizzying your mind.
You eagerly sit up, reaching for the zipper of his trousers and slide it down with practiced ease. His jeweled hand rests atop your head while his hook presses against the curve of your spine, the thrill of danger seeping through your skin.
The pads of your finger tips run over his sizable bulge that pulses against his briefs. He's no patient man when it comes to what he wants, so you know better than to tease right now no matter how much you’d like to.
You free his cock and he lets out a small hiss as you try to wrap your hand around it. He's huge, hard and unforgiving. Every time you hold the weight of his length in your palm, you wonder how it’ll fit, but he always quenches your curiosity, showing you just how well you can take all of him.
“Lay back.” He gruffs out, another puff of smoke curls into the air. You obey, the ache between your legs too much to resist right now. Pleasure awaits for those who are good — a philosophy he’s never taken on for himself but forcefully instills into those around him.
Obedience will always be rewarded.
The tip of his cock presses against your clit, both pulsing in need. You can feel how much he desires you, the lust that swims in his eyes dominates his disciplined power for a stolen moment gone in a blink.
Inch by inch, Sir Crocodile sinks in. One of the small mercies he grants you is the slow crawl of invasion. He knows how easily he could thrust into you, take everything he wants without a damn.
Yet, there’s something about you he doesn’t wish cruelty upon. Maybe it’s because of how good you are at your job or the beauty that radiates from within — an untouchable light he craves to keep for himself.
The stretch is a sinful bliss. Your walls accommodate his length with little protest, almost sucking him in deeper as if your body craves a hint of pain with its pleasure. Perhaps another reason why he’s so enthralled by you.
“There we are, little one.” His voice is nothing but a low rumble, a smoking gun that’s been fired off in the distance yet holds your attention all the same. He knows your mind is swimming at the pressure and the fullness only he can grant you, so he gives you a brief moment to adjust.
“Go ahead.” You call out after a few seconds, your soft hands gliding up his biceps. It's almost sweet the way you cling onto him like he's a good man and not a monster ready to unleash his true might upon your body for his own selfish pleasure.
Sir Crocodile begins to steadily rock into you. This part is always the part you forget and the one he savors, the richness of your heat surmounting any wealth he’s accumlated. Your mind is still trying to catch up with its body, the little twitches sending signals to the brain for help against the overwhelming sensations.
But he never forgets this. It's the only time he can get away with letting his guard down, become a simple man lost in the pleasure of a woman — even just for a little bit.
As soon as your hips move in tune with his, he knows it’s over and he goes back to the reality of the situation. Just another business deal with one of his associates, pleasure for pleasure in a world that gets off on pain.
His hand roughly grips your waist and flips you onto your stomach with ease. You let out a faint squeak before it bleeds into a squealed cry when he thrusts himself back into you without remorse.
Sir Crocodile is relentless. Every snap of his hips pistons him further into you until you swear he’s knocking against your lungs.
“Oh-!” Your fingers clutch the silken sheets as your body rubs against it, clit catching on the bunched fabric. His iron grip on your hip keeps you in place, delivering blow after blow into the warmth of your heat.
“That’s it.” He growls, watching you present yourself in front of him, taking everything he has to offer. His cock twitches and pulses, screaming for reprieve he won’t allow himself yet.
This is the closest thing he’ll have ever to heaven and he plans on exploiting it to the fullest.
Your cries of pleasure grow louder, unable to speak from the intensity. It’s overwhelming, he’s sure, but he doesn’t care. In fact, he wants more.
His golden hook presses against the column of your throat, relishing in the way you tighten around him. The sense of danger washes over you both as you slip into your most primal forms — a crocodile snatching up his pretty little bird.
“I’m-“ you try to cry out that you’re close but he feels it in the way your body trembles, ascending into a state of bliss he knows you’ll keep coming back for.
“Not yet.” Sir Crocodile isn’t done with you and you know better than to finish without him.
“Yes, sir.” You whimper, burying your face into the pillow.
“Tch.” He tuts, using the curve of his hook to bring you closer to him until your slick back presses against his sculpted, heaving chest. “You know better than to hide from me, don’t you?”
Your eyes fill with unshed tears as you gasp out in restrained pleasure. Sir Crocodile pounds into you harder, determined to watch the tears spill over and drown your cheeks in pretty streaks.
“Yes, sir.”
And then you cry so beautifully for him he can’t help but lick up the tears as they fall.
“Atta girl.” He encourages, finally relinquishing his hold to move his hook down your body until it presses against your throbbing clit. You pulse against the metal, squeezing every muscle in your body to keep from coming. He can’t help but chuckle. “Come.”
It’s a sight that never dulls. You paint a vision of erotic bliss that he wishes he could hire an artist to replicate but he’d be damned to ever let anyone but him see you in such a state.
Lost in the way your legs give out first, trembling and twitching under the intensity that overtakes your body. Your hips can’t help but stutter against him while your nails try to claw anything it can get its hands on — always a feisty little thing even when you’re being so docile for him.
He fucks you through your downfall, watching you unravel into pretty ribbons he can toy with whenever he wishes. The kiss of overstimulation drapes over you as you whine and whimper what’s meant to be his name but comes out in meek little mewls.
“What's that, little bird?” His pace never relents even as he approaches his own release. You quiet down and accept what he gives you, the submission driving him over the edge. “That’s what I thought.”
He fills you with hefty ropes of cum, letting your overused pussy milk him for all he’s worth. All the riches in the world couldn’t compare to the high you give him, such a formidable woman reduced to mindless tears.
Sir Crocodile lays you down, still nestled deep inside of you. This is the part he loathes, the one that tests against his own cruel nature and demands sacrifice. You mindlessly reach out and his core shakes, fragments of his most hidden depths try to resurface from a place he swore of long ago. Pieces that he can’t help but leave with you once he knows you’re out of it.
“Shhh.” His voice is quieter but still holds the rough timber that never falters. It's as close as softening as you’ll ever get but it’s enough to soothe your fractured mind.
The man who swears he doesn’t have a heart leans down to brush his lips against your sweaty temple, lingering just enough so you know it wasn’t a lofty dream.
“Sir?” You mumble, but sleep is quickly claiming you. “The report?”
“Later, little one.” He pulls away, watching you freely as your eyes are shut. The corner of his lips twitch upward as you snuggle deeper into the plushness of the bed. “Just rest now, you’ve done good.”
The praise feels foreign coming from him but he knows you’re deserving of it. He gets up, cleaning himself off before he takes a towel between your thighs with a carefulness no one would ever believe.
Sir Crocodile stares at you for a moment, lingering in the room you’ve claimed as your own space before he zips his trousers back up and throws his signature coat over his shoulders.
With one final glance, he exits the room and slips back into the mindset of the king he’s built himself to be. Although this time, he carries a bit of your light in his eyes, remnants of a man who cannot deny he’s entirely untouchable.
Could you make an alternate pt 2 or a pt 3 of play stupid games get stupid prizes where reader just decides that crocodile is more fun? Fucks around with him more than doflamingo? And when I say fuck I mean... 😏
Notes: I hope you enjoy this short and not sweet alternate ending to Play Stupid Games, Win Stupid Prizes. It's very short, not so sweet at all, and simply devastating.
Ask Stupid Questions, Get Stupid Answers
Play Stupid Games, Win Stupid Prizes Alternate Ending.
Masterlist Here, Pollen Masterlist Here
Part 1 Here, Part 2 Here
Word count: 1,500+
Synopsis: Upon the question hanging in the air from the king of Dressrosa, sitting in his soiled brief on the bathroom floor, the only answer that you could find is a simple single syllable: "No". The repercussions and an old acquaintance both find you while you retreat from the bathroom and back into the marine soiree.
Warnings: Doflamingo x f!reader, Sir Crocodile x f!reader, alternate ending, flirting, NSFW mentioned but not explicit, drinking, we reject doflamingo and choose crocodile ending, aftermath of smut.
Notes: This fic was a long time coming, and I hope you enjoy reading what would happen if we abandoned the flamingo!
“Will you marry me?”
The question echoes in a lingering whisper in your mind the longer Doflamingo lay kneeling on the tiled bathroom floor at the marine gala. Cum still flooding his pants from the former touch you pressed into him with your foot, he asked you to marry him with all the genuinity and sincerity he could muster at the worst possible time.
Holding up his hand with the small, mahogany box, your eyes focussed on the circular band and the warlord that was bound to it. Flashes of what your life could look like while being bound to his side as his wife. What consequences should you endure if you answered him incorrectly? Where would you find yourself if he decided to don his arms in a variety of concubines? What should occur if you found yourself on the receiving end of further cruelty, such as the initial occurrence that drew you to take him inside you for the first time?
Before you could halt the single word from fleeing with absolution, it tumbled over your lips and slapped the warlord across the face with the cruel sting of your answer.
“No.”
“What did you say to me?” Doflamingo gasped, his rubied eyes fluttering behind his lengthy, blonde eyelashes, “You… mi Reina, you… Would you mind answering me again-?”
“-I said,” you reached down and took his larger cheek in your hand, stooping to tilt your head low enough to almost brush your nose with his own, yet withholding it far enough away to maintain absolute control, “No.”
A beat, a thumping pain ricocheting deep within the reserves of his ribcage, caused the king of Dressrosa to shudder his lip and gawk up at you as if you'd slapped him. He searched your eyes with your own before you completely retracted your hand from his skin and swiped your shoe along the base of his thigh to rid it of the warmth he left there while painting the inside of his pants with his viscose ecstasy.
“Mi Reina-?”
“-Goodbye, Doflamingo.”
There, on his knees and feeling the shame seep into his body through the cool marble of the bathroom floor, sat Donquixote Doflamingo: the king of Dressrosa and warlord to the marine, watching your silhouette slowly leave the room and hold him captive to his own spooling thoughts. Every moment replayed within his mind: his treatment of you with the aphrodisiatic toxins, the serenity he found between your thighs, and his yearning every day since that single moment, all ending with his confession and proposal.
And you had said… No.
Doflamingo felt his heart simultaneously shatter and harden while vindicated rage consumed his every pore. A roar withheld itself within his throat as he rose to his feet and began to take the plunge of cleaning up his pants of the moment you had shared together moments prior. He slammed the booth door behind him while he gathered tissue paper and cleaned out his briefs, all the while uttering curses of your name in his every breath.
After exiting the bathroom, you exhaled a breath you didn't realise you were holding while shaking away that shuddering thought that the man who toyed so easily with your heart and your emotions asked you to become his queen. Donquixote Doflamingo, after all his shortcomings and horrific brilliance, was still simply a man: a man you could say ‘no’ to.
“Something upsetting you, my little co-conspiritor?” The purring voice of your former drinking partner purred down at you. His presence was followed by a cloak of thick tobacco smoke and that Cologne that held you hypnotised moments prior, “You seemed in such high spirits moments ago. What changed?”
A huffing sigh of frustration departed your lips while you shook off the final feeling of both loathing Doflamingo and loathing yourself for succumbing to his will once more. You found your professional smile once more plaster on your lips while you turned to face Sir Crocodile.
“The king of Dressrosa expressed an interest in tying a noose around my neck in the form of an ornate betrothal ring,” you nodded to him politely while your eyes darted between his dangerous lenses, “And I was disinclined to pursue that future with a man I loathe with my entire soul, my lord.” You curtseyed sweetly while allowing your eyes to fall to the floor.
Where you assumed there would be a few moments of silence between you and a polite nod before he dismissed you completely, you found in its place a large uproar of laughter from Sir Crocodile’s belly through his diaphragm up and spurting from his lips as if he was choking on the air he breathed. His eyes watered, his smile broadened, and his frame shook with every reverberation coasting through his body and sprayed into the atmosphere to draw the eye of every admiral and officer within the space below the balcony.
Shielding your face from view, you attempted to hide yourself behind your hand to no avail. Crocodile’s laughter finally concluded with his hand coming up and slowly swiping at his lashes with a gentle cough to follow.
“Oh, my sweet,” Crocodile whimpered softly with his laugh still on his tongue, “I have not laughed like that in some time. Thank you for warming this old man’s reptilian heart.” His hook came to touch the place on his chest above his buttoned breastpocket while he gave a bow far more polite than you would find within him.
“I am overwhelmed with joy to be at the forefront of your entertainment,” you snarled with sarcasm dripping from every word. Sir Crocodile shook his head and extended his flesh hand out to take your own within his large palm, an action you begrudgingly offered out to him with a roll of your eyes and bat of your lashes.
“You are an absolute diamond amongst the coal within this soiree,” he purred lovingly down at you, elevating your hand and pressing a kiss to the tip of your knuckles, “I feel as if I should return the favor for your purchasing of the earlier bottle, darling.” He released your hand from his lips while still maintaining contact with your fingers within two of his own to compensate for the pure difference between your sizes, “If you would care to join me.”
“The bottle ran out already, Sir Crocodile?” you offered him with a smirk, rolling your shoulders back to fix your posture while maintaining contact between your hand and his own, “I would have thought you would savour the flavour just a little.”
“Without my little plover on my lap to sharpen my smile?” Sir Crocodile narrowed his eyes while smirking in the corner of his lips, “I could hardly bear the thought of finishing that bottle. However, after the disappearance of your sweetness followed by the feather-donned flamingo, I resigned myself to using it as a balm to my loneliness.”
“You are far too sharp with your words, my lord,” you slowly move your hand down his hand and over his wrist before drawing yourself to his side with your arm tucked within the crook of his elbow, “A wit I would enjoy finding my own entertainment within for the remainder of the night.” Sir Crocodile’s stature reverberated with power in every movement as he escorted you to the bar and aided you onto the stool by the countertop.
“I would be delighted to share some more of my wit here this night,” Sir Crocodile repeated your words back to you, “Albeit, I would not be remaining here until the soiree concludes.” His golden hook was found beneath your chin, tilting your face towards him and finding your gaze within his own, “Tell me, my sweet: if I was to suggest further entertainment were to be found between us in a more intimate setting after another glass, would you be agreeable to such a notion?”
The steel of the gold hook was not as intimidating as you thought it would be. It was almost warm, the same warmth found in Sir Crocodile’s eyes and upon his scarred cheeks as his lips curled up to reveal his charming smile. You took your time in pondering your answer, knowing full well the man who haunted you was exiting the bathroom and searching for you at this very moment. You could see the pink feathers in your peripherals, an aura of completely controlled rage following his intentional footfalls as you leaned in closer to Sir Crocodile.
A moment was spared while both yourself and Sir Crocodile chose the other to gaze at while your attention was drawn to Donquixote Doflamingo. The light ricocheted from his rubied lenses onto the ballroom floor, which then flickered onto the hook at your chin. Your lips curved into a smile while you took your time to annunciate your words in a way he could read from across the room should his attention be drawn to you.
“Yes,” you whispered softly, “I’m yours to play with.”
Thank you for reading! If you would like to leave a tip for busking with my words, my Ko-fi is here! If you enjoyed this, please check out my masterlist for other One Piece fics, my monsterlist pinned at @sultrysnail for original content, or my JJK masterlist pinned at @heavenlysnail.
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