These works are intended for Mature Audiences Only and unruly brats will be thrown off the island.
This is a sideblog to @quinloki - and includes my Donquixote Pirate stories and One Shots. Currently this blog doesn't interact except to reblog/post Donquixote Pirate items. If you want interactive following please follow the main blog listed earlier <3
You can also find them other places - Ao3 - Wattpad
Active WIPs:
Family Ties 2 (Coming soon!)
Completed Titles and one-shots: (All currently pending queue)
You're gonna have to be more specific, anon đ . Do you want Reader fic recs, or non Reader fic recs such as DQ Brothers focused fics or Rosinante Lives fics? These are my fav "tropes" so I'll do some of each!
Doflamingo x Reader
Doflamingo's Marine by @moonbaby26
You were an overly ambitious young marine under Tsuruâs command. Without knowing, you had also caught the Heavenly Demonâs eye for quite a while before he finally made his move on you.
Doflamingoâs fascination with you borders on obsession, wanting your mind, body, and future as his own to control. Which makes for new enemies and allies alike who may try to either help or hinder in his plans for you.
(Main pairing will be Doflamingo and reader, but Crocodile and Aokiji are the respective exes that heavily remain to further complicate things. Smut heavy story, but with plot. Story begins eight years before Doflamingoâs defeat by Luffy.)
Having Doflamingo as a soulmate is like being stuck with a narcissistic puppet master who thinks every thread in your life should be his personal chew toy. His thoughts are loud, twisted, and have more flair than a peacock on a caffeine binge. All while wearing designer sunglasses, of course. Heâs been rambling in your head since the moment your souls collided, and letâs just say your childhood is now a weird, glittery horror show.
âIf my soulmateâs a gremlin, Iâll just tie them up. Easier than killing.â
Play Stupid Games, Win Stupid Prizes by @fanaticsnail
Doflamingo is attempting to gain the upper hand against you. He's longed for you, yearned for you - in his own unique way. Considering you never give in to his flirtatious advances, he takes matters into his own hands and attempts to spike your drink. The problem? Your quick wit and nimble fingers switch whisky glasses with him, causing unforeseen problems that he has no cure forâŠ
In chess, a player commits âqueen sacrificeâ by intentionally giving up their queen to gain a significant strategic or material advantage upon the board.
But life is not a game of chess, and such strategies are easier prescribed than practiced â a lesson the princess of Mary Geoise will personally learn when she offers her hand in marriage to the infamous Pirate Warlord Doflamingo in a desperate bid to spare her beloved kingdom from his wrath.
You are Doflamingo's new secretary and he develops a strange obsession over the slight flickers of your pulse. Little does he know that you have ulterior motives for taking on this job. Little do you know that he'll ruin you without ever looking back.
Your life is perfect. Doflamingo has made it that way. But a small slip of the tongue makes you think maybe your husband had more of a hand in the events that lead you to him that you initially thought.
All of Yourself (Doflamingo x Reader, Cora x Reader, Law x Reader) by @pandora-writes-one-piece
You're on the run. The Donquixote Family is your only chance of protection, but that comes with a cost: you. All of you. Law demands control. Doflamingo claims ownership. Cora offers love. Trapped between their wants and your needs, where do you draw the line between captivity and surrender?
When the Straw Hat crew got separated, Kuma sent her to the kingdom of Dressrosa. Unfortunately for her, she caught the eye of none other than the king himself. Donquixote Doflamingo.
"It is in love, and murder, that we are sincere." He stated, breath tickling your lips as he leaned closer. "And I adore your sincerity, (y/n)."
Corazon x Reader
I only read a few Cora/Reader fics so here are the ones I read.
"Mine" by @fanaticsnail
Upon viewing you and your boss, Doflamingo, get a little too close to one another, Corazon feels the urge to finally state a claim over you. He loves you, and now wants you to understand one thing and one thing only: you belong to him. You are his, completely.
â€ïžâđ„: Jealous Cora is yummy Cora. Also, Doffy being the best wingman for his little brother is the best thing ever and he WOULD.
Corazonâs Cosmic Joke by @gav-san
Having Rosinante as a soulmate is like being lovingly haunted by a very tall, very flammable guardian angel in a tattered coat. Heâs chaos wrapped in kindness, a walking disaster with a laugh like sunlight who accidentally sets things on fire, names every pigeon he meets, and leaves you little whispers of warmth in the quiet.
âIf my soulmateâs hurt, Iâll do everything I can to make the world gentle for them first.â
â€ïžâđ„: It has a happy ending. I bawled from too many emotions. This fic feels like a love letter to Cora, it is so heartfelt and loving and beautiful.
Donquixote Brothers (not Reader)
Corazon's Flower Shop by @allmightskitten
Rosinante is happy to finally be able to live a life he would've wanted. It's a totally different world with no pirates or Marines; no World Government or Celestial Dragons; only its own share of simple day-by-day challenges. Best of all, he has Lawâ the kid is all grown up now, with a loud gaggle of good friends who stop by his flower shop to say hiâ life is good.
At least it seems to be that way, until a familiar demon from their past makes itself known.
The even bigger problem? Rosinanteâs heart wants what it wants.
"Rosi?" Doffy murmured. "Did you say something?"
That was impossible, after all. Even since he'd come back, Rosi had been mute. Not a single sound had passed through his lips. The voice Doflamingo had heard must have been the fading end of a dream.
Rosi turned to him, cigarette hanging from his lips. There was a sad look in his eyes that Doffy could see even in the darkness. He took the cigarette between his fingers, and blew a puff of smoke.
"I said, 'You're going to have to kill me, Doffy'."
Summary: Everyone who works at the castle knows about The Wall - a luxury glory hole used by the king as he pleases. Some people on the wall are volunteers, some are criminals, some - like you - are sentenced to time on the wall based on the whims of The Family.
You might not want to be on the wall, but you knew it was a possibility when you took a job at the castle.
CW: DARK CONTENT - Doflamingo is his own content warning, implications of murder, corporal punishment, Non con, whipping, oral sex, vaginal sex, forced orgasm, creampie, yandere, minors dni 18+ only
Thanks to the discord peeps for chatting about evil awful Doffy with me.
The Setup
Just another cunt in the wall.
The thought was oddly comforting, but it didnât change your situation. If nothing else you were glad that the mount you were in was comfortable, because the position and the amount of time you were going to be like this wasnât. Six hours was the minimum time someone would spend on the wall, but you were going to be here for at least twelve.
You had made a small error, or maybe it was worth it, but Trebol had taken an interest in you. Youâd rather eat literal shit than fuck Trebol and his snot, but you were polite to the extreme when you turned him down the other day. It might have only been an offer for coffee, but you werenât a fool.
You shouldâve quit your job the second he looked at you with that awful grin. In that sense, maybe you were at least a little bit of a fool.
Trebol insists you insulted him, but even Monet, and thank the gods she had been there, said that you hadnât been insulting at all. Instead of death, Trebol decided to put you on the Wall for 12 hours. Which was almost kind of him. The longest you had heard of someone being sentenced to time on the wall was 48 hours and that body was cold when they finally removed it.
Everyone knew what The Wall was, the eastern wall in the young masterâs room had holes in it. The room on the other side of the wall had mounts in it. People - some volunteers, but most âcriminalsâ - were assigned shifts and hours to the wall.Â
You presented your holes to the young master to use as he pleased.
Some saw it as a great privilege, and others died because of it. The young master took his pleasure has he pleased and was rightfully due, without care for whatever he was taking. If you were there for a crime then no one cared about your pleasure or survival. It was effectively being presented as a sacrifice, and the young master could be just as finicky as a primordial beast.
If you were there willingly, you were tested beforehand. If you canât take the young masterâs length in polished wood, you werenât going to get your turn on the wall. Some volunteers were so desperate theyâd spend months stretching their own bodies, working up to the behemoth of a cock. Desperate for the real thing.
Since you meant to keep your head down and take you pay, you hadnât tested the facsimile of his cock. You didnât even think you deserved to be on the wall in the first place. Trebol was being unreasonable because of his pride, and if you survived this, the next thing you were going to do was turn in your resignation and leave Dressrosa.
Either Monet spoke up for you, or the Overseer took pity on you, because you were lubed and stretched a little before mounted into the wall. It was a little embarrassing to be worked over so clinically, but youâd take what you could get.Â
âDonât clench, donât orgasm.â The words had been the overseerâs only warnings before you secured and left to your fate.
The mount hugged your body, keeping you in place with surprising comfort. Your ass and vagina were through the hole, your calves and ankles strapped to the wall on your side of it. Your wrists were held against the mount, and three straps kept your torso in place, with one final set going over your shoulders.
You werenât going anywhere. Snug as a bug in a rug. Or a whore in the wall.Â
It was possible youâd get through your sentence without incident. There was an actual volunteer in here with you, and another, unlubed, criminal. Despite Doflamingoâs reputation, he wasnât someone who fucked twenty times a day, and he didnât always get his jollies from The Wall either. Plenty of little favored Pool Jewels would bounce on the king with the barest of invitations.
The criminal looked really nervous, but he was also the only one who was gagged and blindfolded. You wouldâve been nervous too. He was the only guy right now, and the only one who wasnât lubed, so it was obvious from the other side of the wall who the ânaughtyâ one was.Â
It wasnât the fear that made your time on the wall awful, it was the anticipation. It was hearing him finally come into his room after a couple hours, walking around and speaking to himself or others. Knowing anyone else could be in there with him, staring at the wall.
Knowing the King of Dressrosa had the right to offer his wall to whom ever he wanted. Knowing he wasnât so shy as to not use it while there was company. There was just no relief to be had, even in the silence, when he could be drunkenly staring at the wall deciding who to impale.
You hear something in his tone that turns your stomach and then you hear a loud slap. The blindfolded man flinches, whimpering as another loud crack causes him to start sobbing. You have no idea what is happening in the room, but you hope heâs just getting spanked or something.
The loud cracks continue and the man groans and shivers through the entire ordeal. Youâre impressed heâs managing to be so quiet, it sounds like theyâre whipping him, and you canât imagine theyâre taking care to just hit his butt. Either he was used to what was happening, or he knows there is worse yet to come.
When the loud slapping sound stops you donât need to see into the other room to know what was happening. He screamed despite his efforts, and his body began shifting rhythmically. He hadnât been prepped, that first thrust had to have hurt, but he quieted down as the punishment continued.
It wasnât more than ten minutes at most, even though it seemed much longer. You couldnât imagine how long it felt for the poor bastard. He couldâve done anything from petty theft to trying to kill someone - there was no telling what put someone on the wall, save the whims of the Family.
You had braced yourself once the man calmed down, expecting the young master to move to you or the volunteer. But you felt nothing, and the sounds of conversation faded.
Hours crawled by, and despite the tension of being stuck in the wall, boredom combined with exhaustion and you fell into a fitful rest. You have no idea how long you rolled in and out of rest, the mounting room had no windows, and you couldnât see if, or when, the overseer changed.
At some point the man was removed, and you had slept through that. There was a small knot in your stomach, because you didnât know if he had survived or not. Only that he appeared to be alive at the end of things, but no one was going to take him down until his shift was done, no matter the damage he might have endured.Â
The volunteer girl was different, and you thought you had to be coming up on the end of your penance. There was a sense of relief that this ordeal was nearly over, but a terrible fear threaded through your body at the same time. Coming so close to the end was terrifying because you didnât want to cling onto any false hope. It would be better if he just took you, that way youâd know, and itâd be done.
Then you felt it.
The finger that presses against your asshole softly. You let out a slow, shivering breath, desperately trying not to flinch or tense. Internally screaming at yourself to relax.
Relax.
Relax.
The finger doesnât push in, but his thumb presses against the bottom of your labia, swiping up the lips slowly. You didnât flinch from fear, but the sensation made your cunt clench involuntarily.
Thereâs a shift and your lips are spread wide. Youâre just grateful you canât see whoever it is. Whether itâs Doflamingo or someone else doesnât matter. Youâd never know. You just want them to do whatever theyâre going to do and go away.
A warm, wet rag, cleans you, and you try not to sob at the fact that whoever it is, is cleaning the last bits of jelly-like lubricant from you. The overseerâs kindness was probably worthless this many hours into your sentence, but it didnât matter.
It takes a moment for you to realize thereâs a wet tongue licking against your folds, you bite your lip to keep quiet. You needed to stay still and quiet. To be nothing but a relief point, nearly lifeless and uninteresting. Something to be used and then swiftly forgotten.
The volunteers can enjoy themselves, but youâre not trying to become the young masterâs favorite.Â
Wet, and wriggling, the muscular appendage licks your folds like candy for a few long moments, making your body warm. His hands are on the backs of your thighs, for his leverage, not to hold you in place as his tongue pushes into your vagina.
âFuckâ, the way it slips right in has shivers skittering up your spine. You barely breathe the word as he pushes in deeper and deeper until his nose nestles against your clit. You had been braced for the searing pain of his cock hilting into you without care or mercy, this was almost tender.
Biting your lips again the pleasure forces an odd moan to roll around in your chest. Itâs like someone turned a wild ferret into a tongue and then shoved it into you. The motion and thickness were stirring you up and soon you were dripping and gasping, heat in your face as your body roils with pleasure you cannot afford to indulge.
As much as you canât afford to indulge it, youâre not winning the battle of wills. He wants you to enjoy whatâs happening and you donât have the strength to even feign neutrality.Â
You start to hope he sates himself this way, but as you feel yourself getting worked he pulls back, leaving you wet and cold for a moment before his cock head lines up with your entrance. Your breath comes out in swallow, short huffs, hoping you can survive the initial thrust, and trying to stay as relaxed as you can hope to manage.
A different kind of fear grips you when he sinks in slowly. Pushing in and stretching you so much your stomach knots from the intense intrusion. Just as you think the dull ache will finally tear he pulls back, adds more lube, and pushes in a little deeper. The idea that he doesnât seem to want to accidentally kill you should be a relief but the young master is not known for his compassion.
Even with the volunteers, pleasure is not a promise. You know quite a few who end up on cleaning duty for a couple weeks while abrasions and tears are given time to heal.
âHoooooooly-oh-god,â you husk the words as he pushes in so much you expect him to just force your womb open. But he doesnât hit up against your cervix. Thereâs no blinding hot pain, just the feeling of his hips against your ass, and a sense of being so full you canât risk breathing in too deep.
Holy shit you can accommodate the young master.
Thereâs a beat, a moment of complete stillness, before he pulls back almost to the tip and pushes back in.
Slowly.
The sensation of his exit and return have you wriggling from the strangely intense sensation. It doesnât hurt, it doesnât feel good, but it Feels Very Distinctly, and you donât know how to handle it. It seems far too long, as though nothing of that length should be physically possible for you to take, and the lack of pain has your mind reeling.
He repeats it again, and again, and once more. You can feel slick dribbling down to your asshole. Youâre plenty wet inside and the next thrust is much faster, with no pause after it. Youâre literally dripping wet, and now heâs going to fuck you.
Each slap of his hips against your ass is pushing air from your lungs. The long motion is setting every part of your insides on fire with pleasurable sensations and you can feel the sweet knot of tension forming in your gut.
You cannot cum. The overseer only warned you against two things and you had successfully managed to not clench, you think, but you arenât sure you can obey the other piece of advice.
âNo,â you whisper softly, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. âNo, no, no, no.â Your knuckles are white, your fingernails biting into the soft skin of your palms. A desperate hope to harm yourself away from the impending pleasure.
Itâs not enough, you canât stop the build of pleasure, and Doflamingoâs pace and motion are hitting all the best spots in the best ways, over and over. It was like he had taken you before and knew exactly what to do to make you orgasm, but this was definitely your first time on The Wall.
Tears slip down your cheeks. âFuck, fuck, fffuuuunnnnnngh!!â Your body tenses rock hard, throbbing and trembling as the powerful orgasm tries to move you despite the mount holding you in place. Your head swims from the sudden rush, the dizzying sensation heightening the pleasure that makes you practically convulse while he rails your sensitive body through the orgasm.
He slams into you harshly, erratic and deep thrusts as he floods your pussy with his cum. You can hear him grunt, maybe even swear, from the other side of the wall, but youâre too hazy in your own powerful orgasm to know for sure.
âNo,â you whine to yourself, terrified to know what the punishment is for orgasming after being told not to was going to be.
He pulls out, and you can feel his seed leak out of you. The finger that swipes up the line of spend and pushes it back into your cunt sends a cold chill down your spine, the warm thumb that teases your clit makes you sob quietly from the overstimulation.
It takes Doflamingo two minutes to tuck his cock back into his pants, mostly because heâs watching the quivering pussy in front of him drip and throb from the after glow of an incredible orgasm. Heâd gotten the whole story from Monet, and had initially considered leaving you alone because of it. The old man had been getting on his nerves lately and he wasnât interested in going out of his way to placate him.
But curiosity had compelled him. You werenât Trebolâs usual type, so what was it that caught his attention?Â
Trebol may have drugged you at some point and took you himself. It wasnât like Doffy gave a shit about what his family did to the staff, but maybe he knew how hard your body orgasmed and wanted you while you were awake.
Or maybe the old dog just knew a good bone when he saw one.
Stepping into the mount room, he points to you, not that you can see him, and the overseer moves without a word from him. Your legs nearly buckle when youâre removed from the mount, either because you were up there for hours, or because of that incredible orgasm, it didnât matter.
You look delicious, shivering and naked, barely standing in the room as his cum continues to leak down your thighs. The overseer tells you to kneel before the king, and you do so without so much as a twitch of emotion on your face.
Doffy crouches down to be closer to your eye level, delighting in how sexy you look on your knees, face stained with tears, looking up at him only because heâs tilted your gaze up with a firm hand.
âYouâre going to lay on my bed and depending on how you do, Iâll either reward you, or hand you over to Trebol to do all the things he wants to do to you.â He says, a twisted smile on his face the entire time, his thumb pressing your soft lips into your teeth.
âYouâre going to do your best, isnât that right?â He prompts, squeezing your jaw painfully.
You nod, youâre cold and sore and exhausted and hungry, and you have no idea if you could even climb into the bed of someone so tall. âYes, young master.â
Youâre going to have to try, however. Better to die trying to please Doflamingo, than failing and ending up in Trebolâs bed.
Any thoughts on Mafia AU of the Whitebeard pirates?
Well.
The WBP donât inspire thoughts of a Mafia AU for me but Doffy sure does. I know this is actually not what you asked at all but Iâm gonna drop it below becauseâŠâŠâŠâŠI wanna. It's that red suit - it does things to me.
WC: ~3k
TW: dub con, Doffy, forced exhibitionism, dark
The chain connecting your collar to the table above your head jingled as you moved backwards slightly in anticipation of Master sitting down for his meal. As for every dinner, you were nude and chained under the table as you awaited the arrival of the mafia Don who owned you, Donquixote Doflamingo. The thin golden chain did little to actually keep you from escaping; you could probably break the malleable metal if you really tried. It wasnât the chain or collar that kept you in your place - it was the man whoâd put them on you.
Who owned you completely, from your perfectly styled hair down to the expertly manicured nails of your feet.Â
Donquixote Doflamingo.
âWhereâs my money?â Donquixote Dolfamingo said as he sat in your brotherâs gaming chair. His legs were crossed and his hands steepled as he considered you and your brother with an easy grin. It was almost laughable to see such a powerful, strong, large man in the cheap rolling chair but you didnât dare move, much less smile. He strode into your shitty apartment minutes before, his minions busting the door wide open and pulling the two of you out of your beds to bring you in front of the mafia Don. You inhaled sharply through your nose as the Don asked for his money, making him turn to you.
Now you were kneeling at his feet in only your pajamas, your hands behind your head and wishing youâd worn something with a little more coverage as you shivered in the cold night air. Your spaghetti strap top provided no protection against the chilly wind coming through the cracked window and your nipples pebbled in the cold air. Youâd never met Doflamingo before, never even laid eyes on him, but by the way your brotherâs face drained of color it was evident he knew why the Don was in your apartment. You didnât scream as you were dragged from your room, too in shock to process what was happening.
âOh? She doesnât know, Bobby? Your sweet sister doesnât know what you get up to at night?â Doflamingo asked with a cruel smile. Turning to you, his smile widened as he continued speaking. âYour brother here likes to borrow money and spend it on gambling and drugs,â he said as your brother steadfastly avoided looking at you. Your stomach sank - it was drugs again. âBut this time he borrowed more than he could handle, isnât that right Bobby? And ran off to hide behind his sister. And look where that got you, your sister kneeling before the Don himself,â he said as he leaned forward to pinch your cheek between two large fingers. You knew better than to lean back from the Donâs cruel fingers as the pinch made your face ache.Â
You thought about the Donâs words - Bobby had begged you a few weeks prior to let him sleep on your couch. He had looked worse for the wear, his eyebags dark and his face sunken in, but heâd sworn he wasnât on drugs again. The city had been polluted by a new dealer named Joker, whoâd brought in newer, more addicting drugs. They were said to be 10 times more potent but 100 times more addicting.
âBobby, baby, Iâm not gonna ask you again. Whereâs my money?â Doflamingo said with a smile as he gestured to your brother with the gun. The Don had a glock in his hand that he was waving as he gesticulated, almost casual in his movements. You winced, hoping the Don wasnât careless with his aim. Up until this night, youâd never even seen a gun in real life.Â
âD-Donquixote, I - I can explain, I can get-â your brother's words were cut off as the Don pistol whipped him across the face, blood spattering on your pajamas as you whimpered and closed your eyes. Bobby spit on the thin carpet and a bloody tooth fell out of his mouth.Â
âI didnât ask for an explanation or for you to get the money. I asked you where it is,â Doflamingo stated, once again leaning back in the gaming chair. He was wearing reflective sunglasses so you were unsure if he was looking at you, if at all. A shiver went down your spine as some creep who looked like he needed to blow his nose leered at you.
âItâs g-gone, please Doflamingo, you - you have to understand -â Your brother stopped speaking as Doflamingo frowned and stood up, putting the barrel of the gun against your brotherâs forehead.
âThere is nothing I have to do,â he spat, pushing the gun harder into the side of your brotherâs head. Bobby closed his eyes and whimpered as you pressed your lips together. âMy moneyâs gone, and where does that leave me, Bobby? What am I gonna do now? You owe a lot and unless you can pay me back tonight, thereâs not gonna be much left of your family,â the Don said, his grin growing even wider as he made a forward motion with his index finger. A young man in a horned baseball cap viciously kicked your brother in the stomach, making him double over in pain.Â
Holding back your tears as the boy continued kicking your brother, you cast your eyes downward. You desperately wanted to yell at the Don to stop, throw yourself over your baby brother to protect him from the beating, to do anything to prevent what was about to happen.Â
Youâd bailed out Bobby so many times before, since childhood really. It felt like every time you got some money saved or something went your way, Bobby showed up on your step with his hand out and a sob story to match. You always helped him, he was your little brother, but Bobby had finally gotten himself in so deep he couldnât get out, and it looked like you wouldnât either. This was it, the end of the line, youâd die and never even gotten to go to Bali like youâd always wanted - you gathered your courage to speak to the Don, an idea in your mind.
âHow much does he owe?â you asked in a small voice, still looking at the Donâs polished leather shoes.
âOver 5 million beri. Are you going to pay for dear little brother?â he asked, putting the barrel of his gun under your chin and pushing your face upward. Donquixoteâs thin eyebrow was raised over his glasses.
âN-not all tonight, but I have some savings. And I can-â you took a deep breath before you continued, âI can work for you to pay off the debt. Iâm good at-â
âI donât need any more workers,â Donquixote replied, as his face turned impassive, the maniacal grin drooping slightly. You closed your eyes as the barrel pushed further into the soft skin under your chin and awaited your fate. Everything was quiet for a few moments as a tear tracked down your cheek, the only sound your brothers soft groans.
âI donât need workers but I do want a new pet,â the Don stated, your eyes snapping to his gleaming sunglasses. The unnerving smile had returned to his face but the gun didnât move as you tried to swallow. Your face must have showed the confusion you felt because Donquixote continued speaking.
âSell yourself to me for the cost of your brotherâs debt. Not forever of course,â the Don purred, removing the barrel from your face as his fingers now stroked your cheek. âIt would only be for a few years, or until I release you, whichever comes first. We can hammer out the contract at my penthouse.â Your eyes traveled to look at your brother as the boy ground his hand onto the floor under his shoe, but Doflamingo captured your jaw in his hand, squeezing it harshly. You tried not to whine but the pain was growing by the moment. âPay attention. Do you accept?â
âWh- what would I have to do?â you asked, keeping your eyes on the Don. He licked his lips as he released your jaw.
âDoes it matter? Either you become my pet or you and Bobby, well, whatâs left of you can be buried next to your parents,â he said with a laugh. This time you were able to catch Bobbyâs eyes - youâd seen that look so many times before. He was pleading with you to take the offer, to take on his debt at the cost of your own freedom. You didnât want to be in the service of the Don, but you were the older sister and your parents had made you promise to always take care of your trouble prone younger brother.
âAnd his debt will be gone? He wonât owe anything?â you asked, biting your lip.
âFree as a bird, no money owed,â he said, spreading his hands as if in a gesture of goodwill. You took one last glance at your brother before taking a deep breath.
âI accept.â
Since that fateful night, youâd become pet to one of the most powerful men in the world. Youâd been so anxious that night, you hadnât read through the contract fully, just signed away your body and soul to Donquixote Doflamingo for an indeterminate amount of time. Just like you agreed, youâd do whatever Master told you to. Including the dinner time ritual.Â
Every night, you were primped by attendants for dinner, your gold collar polished to shining. The thin metal leash attached to an eye hook under the table and you awaited the arrival of Master. Youâd long since learned what the Don wanted you to call him by means of a wicked spanking the first time youâd used his name.
âPets donât call their owners by their names, do they?â Donquixote had crooned as his large palm caressed your deep red ass. You were splayed over his lap, one of his hands pinning your wrists behind your back. Ass high in the air, Donquixote rubbed your tender skin almost soothingly, as if he hadnât been the one to cause the injury.Â
âN-no, Master,â you hiccuped as your tears and snot mixed on his thigh, your face buried into his expansive lap. You were ruining one of his expensive red suits but there wasnât much you could do in your current position.
âNo, they donât. Now apologize,â he said softly, gripping one cheek in his fingers.
âIâm s-sorry, Master,â you said, hoping the spanking was over but not daring to move.Â
âYouâre nearly forgiven, Pet,â heâd said, pulling his belt out of the loops of his pants.Â
But that was months prior, things were much smoother now for Master. Heâd brought you to heel, even if you did need occasional reminders. Now you knew what was expected of you most of the time and acted as he had taught you. Like at dinner, where youâd wait underneath the table until Master gave you the signal. You sat back on your heels as far as you could to allow his long legs as much room as he liked. If you didnât allow Master enough space he might make you lick his shoes clean again and that hadnât been an experience you wanted to replicate.
Master arrived shortly thereafter, sitting down at the head of the table. You heard the scraping of chairs against the wooden floor but kept your gaze trained on Master. You had to be ready for his signal otherwise heâd be displeased. Even though you couldnât see above the table, youâd been at enough dinners to know what was happening. Sr. Pink was engaging with Baby 5 about her day, Buffalo was arguing with Dellinger, Diamante was laughing at something Vergo said, and Master was ruminating. If he had been in a pleasant mood, he would have been talking to Vergo, you thought.Â
You waited to determine if the food helped soothe his ire but Master barely spoke at dinner. You heard a bottle of wine being uncorked so Master was likely drinking. You braced yourself for the night to come, hoping that dessert would sway Master away from his bad mood. After a while, another wine bottle was uncorked and you felt his index finger tap your jaw twice as his legs widened their stance. You licked your lips and crawled between Masterâs legs, reaching for his belt buckle. With practiced movement, you were able to undo his belt and unzip his pants with little noise; Master didnât like for you to make sounds until he was ready.
His cock was hardening under your fingertips as you guided his cock out of his suit pants. Even though you sucked him off at least once a day, his size always intimidated you when you began. Master tapped your jaw again once and settled his hand at the base of your neck, his fingers curling into the golden collar. It gave you even less room to breathe but you werenât going to dislodge his hand.
He was fucking pissed you thought. You sent one final prayer to whoever would listen that heâd calm down with head and wine before you began licking up his shaft with your tongue. Making your way to the head of his cock, you gently took him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks with the effort to suck. Master liked high pressure on his cock, which was hard to maintain, but you always tried your best.Â
You bobbed your head, taking care that none of your teeth scraped his shaft as the tip began hitting the back of your throat. Master had rid you of your gag reflex as one of the first trainings youâd endured so that youâd be able to suck him the way he enjoyed. The chain jangled as you worked but the tinny sound only made Master harder as he toyed with the chain with his second hand. He soon moved it to one of your breasts, toying now with your nipple in lieu of the chain.
His fingers uncurled from the collar but you had no time to enjoy the relief as he put his palm on the back of your head and pushed you forward. You inhaled through your nose and tried your best to relax your muscles as Masterâs cock pushed further and further down your throat. Masterâs fingers gripped your hair as you tried to maintain momentum for him. He pulled out his cock to slap your cheek gently a few times but the respite was brief as he pulled you back onto him quickly.Â
Your jaw ached and drool was running down your chin by the time he was close. Masterâs cock began twitching so you took a gamble and placed your hands on his inner thighs. Youâd done it once and been rewarded with a private stroll in the gardens so perhaps it would please him again. Master grunted and his fingertips rubbed your scalp. You could have cried from relief - Master liked the gesture and was now bucking his hips slightly into your mouth.
Moving as fast as your neck allowed, you pushed yourself all the way to the base of his shaft and tried tightening your throat. You maintained momentum, deep throating Masterâs cock as a tremor in his leg warned you of his upcoming orgasm. Masterâs legs shifted and you were rewarded with a small grunt as his hot come spurted down your throat. His grip was tight on your nipple, it was going to hurt the next day, but you didnât dare stop. Letting up on the suction, you pulled yourself off him and made sure to lick any remaining come off of him. You removed your hands from his thighs and went back down on all fours, your tits swaying with your movement.Â
A few moments later, one of his hands appeared below the table with a piece of chocolate held in his palm. You nuzzled into his hand and began eating, savoring the rare treat at the dinner table. The tips of his fingers curled up to cradle your jaw as you ate the last few remaining bites. Suddenly the grasp tightened as you heard familiar laughter ring out. Instinct had you wanting to shrink back but the chain and hand kept you in place.
âUp now, Pet. Time for my dessert.â Master disconnected the end of the chain from the hook with practiced ease and tugged once. The sweet dessert in your mouth turned sour as you brought yourself up from under the table, crawling between Masterâs legs to perch on his lap. He kept the end of your chain in his hand while the other came to squeeze your thigh. His large hands were able to encompass your entire upper thigh, his fingertips close to your center. You only had a few moments before his cock would harden again and heâd take you in any way that struck his fancy.Â
Heâd bent you over the table, over his chair, had you ride him, had you on your back on the dining table, fingered you, ate you out, and so much more - all in front of the Family. Youâd long since become adept at avoiding their gazes and focusing on Master as if he was the only person in the room. Some members of the family liked to watch, some would leave, and some would continue eating as if nothing was happening.Â
Apparently heâd had a few pets before you, but none had lasted as long or had been as favored. Masterâs fingers crawled forward and you parted your thighs, not wanting to show any hesitance or defiance. Your body had become inured to the nightly routine, preparing itself for what was guaranteed to happen.
âSo wet already, Pet. Youâre being a good girl for me tonight,â Master said in a low voice into your ear. You shivered from his nearness, but leaned back into his chest, his pink feathery coat tickling the back of your arms. Youâd take whatever false comfort you could find, even if it was in the arms of the Don.Â
âIâll make sure you enjoy dessert too,â he said with a laugh, the fingers gripping your thigh bruising the delicate skin.Â
Dating advice with Doffy. Something I wrote in the style of a magazine column for Blonde Bombshells.
Citizens of Dressrosa! I, your handsome and wonderful ruler have once again decided to bless you all with my worldly knowledge and ever-flowing compassion and grace in the form of an advice column. I see many of you have taken the time out of your mundane lives to write me already!Â
â
Q: Doffy! Noticed you always have so many pretty ladies, whatâs your secret? Iâve been single for years and I just need to know how you do it?
A: Have you tried not to be ugly and boring? If you are less than a 4 Iâm afraid your beyond help. If your at say, a 6 then a big bank account can do wonders for how women view you. Buy them something shiny, it will help distract them from your obvious flaws.Â
Q: Young master, so I went on a date the other night and he never called me again. We got on really well, Iâm even a model. I donât want to brag but Iâm a catch and this guy just doesnât return my calls? How do you get over these sorts of problems?
A: Well, for starters, no one ever leaves me waiting, and what sort of model? Are we talking about hand modeling or underwear? At the bottom of this article is my number and I would be delighted to be the one to ghost you <3
Q: How do I get this guy to go out with me? Iâve asked a few times and he always tells me maybe!Â
A: Have you considered armed henchmen to scare him a little? Thought about burning his house down? You have so many options if you just get a little creative.
Q: I wish people took more notice of me, I want to turn heads and have people fawning all over me! What do you suggest?
A: Wear bright colours, and big coats, the more feathers the better! If your outfit doesnât leave a mess for the cleaner and his children's children to clean up, whatâs the point? Also remember my golden rule. Tits and teeth! The bigger the better. Also, the tightest pants you can find is never a bad idea.
Q: Is a first date too early to sleep with someone?
A: Not at all! Sometimes I donât even get past dinner.
Q: My partner doesnât like that I have such a high body count, what do I do?
A: Double your number just to spite them. Iâm free Friday~
Q: I keep asking this guy to team up with me and he keeps saying no! What do I do?
A: If anyone has the answer to this Iâd also like to know.
cw: gn!reader. angst. light physical roughness towards reader. mention of sex but nothing explicit. alcohol use [reader]. dressrosa spoilers.
wc: 1.3k
The sun set over Dressrosa, just like it did the day before, and the day before that. You stood on the balcony overlooking gardens and stared out across the island, watching the sky turn technicolor, a nightly performance that somehow felt like it was just for you.
A door closed softly behind you; Doflamingo strode across the bedroom and ducked out onto the balcony, placing a hand on your upper back and giving your neck a quick squeeze.
âEnjoying your show, darling?â he grinned, leaning down to kiss along your earlobe and down your jaw.
You nodded and forced a smile, gripping the railing a little tighter, trying to keep your anxious thoughts at bay. Youâd heard the phone calls, seen his barely-suppressed anger that only seemed to grow after heâd left for Punk Hazard and returned. Doflamingo tried to keep things from you when he could, but this was unavoidableâthis was impending war, at least in your estimation.
He clucked his tongue and sat upon the stone bench beside you, pulling you in to stand between his legs. âWhatâs wrong, sweet bird? You seem upset.â
âWhat will happen to me, love?â The question came barreling out faster than you anticipated, unable to stop it as it landed with a thud. The years had taught you never to question him on certain thingsâhis strength was chief among them.
âWhat do you mean?â His eyebrows furrowed behind his sunglasses, his grip on your shoulders tightening.
âI mean what will happen ifâwellââ
âThatâs nothing you need to be concerned about, little bird,â Doflamingo spat, cutting you off, knowing precisely what it is youâre implying. âThis situation we find ourselves in is merely a momentary inconvenience.â
The phone calls youâd overheard, the conversations on which youâd eavesdropped, the information youâd begged and bribed out of his guardsânothing seemed to indicate it would be a mild âinconvenience;â Doflamingo had a temper, but mundane troubles didnât seem to rattle him the way this had. You steadied yourself and breathed in deep before adding, âYouâre not answering my question.â
He took your chin and held it between his thumb and forefingers, his massive hand engulfing your face. âAre you doubting my ability to keep you safe? Hm?â
âNo, of course not, Iâm justââ
He squeezed your jaw, his hand almost shaking as he leaned forward, the tip of his aquiline nose touching yours, his hot breath spreading across your face as he spoke, bits of spittle landing on you with every enunciated word. âAre you suggesting that one little brat and some upstart pirate crew pose any threat to me? To us?â
You shook your head, a whimper clawing its way up your throat, as you grasped at his wrist, trying to wrest yourself from his painful grasp.
âGood.â He released his hold on your chin and leaned forward to place a gentle kiss where his thumb left an indent in your flesh. âYou know I would never let anything happen to my little bird."
That night, Doflamingo made love to you as he did most nights, but something felt changed. He pulled you closer, he kissed you harder, and as you laid there afterwards, your cheek pressed to his chest, listening to his heartbeat as his long fingers danced over your sweat-dappled skin, you would swear you sensed something in him you didnât think youâd ever truly felt before.
Fear.
----------
The sun sets again, just like it did the day before, and the day before that. Brilliant hues of gold and lavender spread through the sky and the ocean reflects them back, soft waves beating upon the shore. You sit curled up on your porch, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders, a glass of wine on the table beside you, wondering if that day was the last time you would ever see a sunset with Doflamingo again. Itâs a thought that haunts your waking hours and invades your dreams.
Itâs quiet here, far removed from the buzz and busyness of Dressrosa. You still arenât quite sure where here is exactly; you werenât allowed onto the deck of the ship for your journey, nor were you ever shown where this little slice of idleness lies on a map. The journey could have been a day or a week or a year for all you had known; as soon as you were hurriedly smuggled on board, a man had jabbed your upper arm with something that made your blood burn before it gripped you by the shoulders and pulled you under into a deep and dreamless sleep. At night, when visions of Doflamingo, bloodied and beaten and restrained with seastone, flash in your mind again and again as you writhe in sweat-soaked linens, you wish that man had left you with a supply of your own injectables.
A soft breeze picks up and carries upon it the scent of citrus trees, the ones belonging to your neighbor down the road that youâd only waved to a few times. It was still unclear to you just how approachable you were allowed to be under the circumstances. You occasionally walked into town, covered in scarves and layers of fabric to hide your form, just to bask in the warmth of other living beings, and inhale the scent of fresh-baked bread at the market, and take home a few homemade goods to carry you through the week. Men who never spoke to you dropped off supplies now and again, more than enough to sustain you and you alone, but nothing could compare to the sound of friendly voices and the feeling of carrying home a loaf of crusty bread knowing it would soon be slathered in butter and jam and inhaled within minutes, just like you used to insist upon doing back on Dressrosa, even when the castle was fully-stocked with anything your heart desired.
The sun dips below the horizon, and a chill settles in the night air. Itâs time to head inside, time to make yourself dinner and read one of the countless books that were packed inside this house, or perhaps drink yourself into a stupor so you could skip wallowing in melancholy and time-travel to morning, when the sun could keep you company. And then you can do it all over againâwake, and sob until your lungs hurt and your core aches, until youâre so full of yearning and wanting that youâre numb inside. And youâll think of him, think of him in better times, think of him wrapping you in pink feathers and grazing your skin with long fingers and kissing you, kissing you with desire and longing, and a softness that took you by surprise every single time.
Youâll think of him and youâll hold hope within your aching heart that youâll see him againâsee him walking up the sand, a grin stretched across his lips, tanned arms outstretched to welcome you home to him. And youâll hold onto that image, hold it so tightly inside you, hoping that it will keep the grief from spreading like poison and killing you before you can ever feel his touch upon your skin once more.
Synopsis: Doflamingo has missed another Valentine's Day alongside anniversaries, holidays, and birthdays. He decides to make it up to you by gifting a variety of presents and indulges in watching you attempt to open it while his hands become a welcome distraction.
Themes: Doflamingo x afab!reader, MDNI, NSFW, 18+, smut, cockwarming, domflamingo, established relationship, overstimulation, love, kisses, lots of pet-names.
Notes: Massive shout out to @loganwritesprobably, @mermaniaa, @queenmimi2817, @thietanavenus and @vaadalt for keeping me company and giving me ideas for this one last night đ€. Happy belated Valentine's!
The vast array of gifts littering the ensuite table was in hues of deep red up to pastel pinks. Crete paper and ruby-stained tissue was thrust amongst the peonies, roses and tulips: all a healthy dedication depicting the love from your partner sitting beneath your lap. Reaching towards the velveteen box clad in ribbons and tulle, your breath caught in your throat and a shocked moan tugged its way from your chest to your lips.
âEyes on the gifts now, my sweet,â Donquixote Doflamingoâs voice poured like molasses down at you, âOpen the next one of your many trinkets from me.â Your hands shuddered as they lingered over the fabric, your entire body being struck alight and unravelling beneath the skilled hands of Doflamingo while you shifted through your gifts.
Valentineâs Day had come and gone, birthdays were of a similar regard. Doflamingo was a busy man: king, warlord, and pirate captain all in one, giant, feather-clad form. As his spouse, you were accustomed to being left to your own devices while he sought out his orders and took to his mighty kingdom.
However, he regretted not spending every waking moment serenaded by your smile and illuminated with your laughter - which was why he spent so much time purchasing thoughtful items and an amassment of flowers for your enjoyment.
As you made to unravel the ribbon, a whine spilled from your lips as your hips rolled against your will, relishing in the contact of his hand against your bare cunt. Doflamingoâs cock pulsed deep within your abdomen, impaling you and holding you hostage to your whims while keeping him warm and secure inside of you.
âThe next one. Please, mi amor,â he whispered softly while using his index finger to swirl against your clit. âTug the ribbon and tell me what you think of it.â He rocked his hips against yours, allowing a small groan of his own to join with yours before remaining completely stationary seated within your pussy.
Slowly withdrawing the ribbon, you tugged at the cloth and reached for the fastening holding the box closed. While you opened the velveteen surface, your fingers halted while you attempted to ignore the call into bliss founded by the skilled fingers of Doflamingo. The pad of his index finger continued to drive you to the brink of insanity the longer he held you hostage on his cock, but the smooth pour of his voice lingering in your ear from behind kept you grounded.
âWhat is it, little dove?â his voice caressed the shell of your ear, âWhat can you see, hm? Talk me through it.â As his warmth spread from the nape of your neck down, igniting pebbled goose-flesh along your spine, you clenched hard around his shaft and arched your back while rolling over the box between your thumb and forefingers.
âI-I see,â you stumble over your tone while you open the box. The rolling of his fingers grinds to a halt, holding you stationary within the cusps of falling over the edge of ecstasy.
âWords, dove. You have them, you can use your pretty little tongue to draw them up and over your palate,â he whispered down into your scalp, flicking his lengthy tongue against your earlobe, âTry for me.â His fingers once again moved against that pebbled pearl at the top of your glistening cunt. His own voice constricted around his shuddering groan as he gazed over his rose-tinted glasses down towards the box in your hands.
âItâs-Itâs-,â you again tried to elicit sounds to depict your insight, opening the box and peering down within its plush surface. Your fingers reached forward, caressing the interior of the silken padding of the gift as a cool metal caressed your skin. Each small divot was both smooth and rough within your hands, a ribbon of gold with a small, balled, spherical object at the base of the box.
Doflamingo purred through his soft mewl, his quivering cock pulsating thickly inside your cunt while he listened to you struggle to get the words out. He revelled in the flutter of your walls sucking in his length, gasping out at every soft quiver while he held you on that edge without ever letting you fall.
âI-It's a necklace with a b-ball on the end,â you whimper, brows furrowing in the centre of your forehead while you struggle to contain yourself. Doflamingoâs hand momentarily left your pussy as he reached up with the other to collect the charm from your hand. He rocked his hips to and fro to keep you right on the cusps of your release, biting back his own needs in order to tease you further.
Gently raising the chain, he draws it around your neck while he continues to gently rock his hips. His cock pinpoints your g-spot, dragging against it and forcing your jaw to draw slack at the intensity. He placed the necklace around you and joined the clasp at the nape above your spine. The large hands then resumed their position: one against your clit and rolling the pert bud in time with his gentle rocking, the other drawn over your chest and bracing your shoulders into his chest.
âThe ball has a small port you can see into,â he hummed down against your smaller frame, âI had an image placed within of when we first began seeing one another.â He picked up his pace, finally bouncing you atop his lap and seeking out that familiar grip and contraction of your pussy sucking greedily on his thick cock. He grunted while listening to your gasps and mewls spill from your lips, holding you firmly against him while the crude âplap, plap, plap,â of his hips meeting yours grew in relentless intensity.
There were no thoughts behind your eyes while your spouse continued to tug you towards that edge he had held you hostage to from the moment you first started this small gift exchange. Only pleasure seeped into your veins and ignited your blood with sharp and unyielding euphoria. Your abdomen pulsed and began to simmer with popping flashes, like water in hot oil fizzing on a cast iron surface. The gateway into bliss had parted, and that familiar desperation had reared its face in the tingles expanding from your cunt to your toes.
âSay: âThank You, Doffyâ, little dove,â he moaned down onto the crown of your head at every bobbing pass, ââThank you for your giftâ.â
âThank you, Doffy!â you cried out, lips parting as your pussy gushed over his cock. The pulses of your ring of muscle sucking on him was enough to push the king behind you over his edge, flooding your cunt to the brim with heavy bursts of his thick and pent-up ecstasy.
He groaned your name, revelling in the small world the two of you had set aside with one another as he drove your body hard to ride the waves of bliss together. Your body desperately convulsed in a bid to curl inwards, legs shuddering to winch themselves closed. Doflamingo angled his legs to hold yours open, shepherding you both through overstimulation while you churned through babbles of incohesive pleas.
Doflamingo finally relinquished his assault in holding you hostage to your pleasure as you both slumped forward against the pink-shrouded table. He chuckled deeply against your neck as he pressed his lips in a lengthy line of kisses from your spine up to your temple. Each kiss depicted his apologies, his gratitude, his lust, and his pure, unbridled devotion to you and you alone, all while dwelling in the afterglow of your accumulated passion.
âOkay, little dove,â he whispered softly, âOnly five more gifts to open. Go on, my darling. Slowly use those little fingers to open the packages, and I expect a âthank you, Doffyâ, after each one.â
You panted and heaved, sweat beginning to drop from your forehead as your glossy skin recuperated from a glimpse of the heavens by his skilled hands. In lieu of reaching for another gift, you tilted your head and drew your hand to his cheek from behind you.
Slowly drawing his face closer to yours, you joined your lips against his and slowly bled your emotional outpour in a timid and intentional kiss. Tongues only floating together momentarily, you focussed on depicting your love and gratitude that he spared a moment of his busy schedule to do this with you. Your breaths became one while your bodies were still joined at the hips, your kiss lingering on his skin as you pulled away from his face. Darting your eyes between his own, your lips shared an outpour of soft and pure love in the formation of three words.
