#In alabasta when he took back his glasses for him

[sancastarcs]

sanji thinking about how usopp will feel when he hears about merry this is my sanuso piece

[haveatthee83]

Under My Skin (Monkey D. Luffy/Reader) 1/7

Inspo: Under My Skin by Jukebox the Ghost

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Word Count: ~8.5k

Warnings: Angst, arguing, cursing, angry Luffy, discussion of death and dead relatives, brief descriptions of violence.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Luffy was a very happy person. Plenty of people thought he might not even be capable of feeling negative emotions sometimes. All of that theorizing got swept away with the tide the day Ace had died. The heart wrenching wails of the young captain were enough to make the sea herself weep. Luffy was a real person who felt things like loss, sorrow, rage, and hate. That last one wasn’t one he felt very often if at all until years later when you came along.

You had guided his crew through your island, a large sprawling summer island with rolling sands and sunbaked stones. It constantly sent shivers of familiarity through Luffy and the crew, thinking back to Alabasta. All the Straw-Hats had their eyes glued to Luffy, making sure he was okay, but there was apparently no need, his large smile never leaving his face as he asked question after question about the area, what foods you had there, if it ever snowed, or where did you live on this massive island. You would answer as best you could, curt, little responses between small smiles. “We have all kinds of different fruits, vegetables, and fish, but we’re known for raising boar for meat.” “It only snowed once, and it practically shut down the whole island. No one knew what to do!” “I live somewhere close by; I’ll show you and make you all dinner! Make sure you have shelter for the night.”

At first, all seemed well, Luffy was constantly engaged by the land around him, taking in the sights as you brought them toward your home, but then-

“SANDSTORM!” Your voice pierced through the air as you hurriedly corralled the pirate crew into your home, slamming the door shut and grabbing a large robe of sorts, throwing it over your shoulders, “Feel free to make yourselves comfy, eat or whatever you need.” You assured, slamming the door shut, shoving a large plank of wood through the handle to keep and wind from blowing it open or off its hinges. “I’ll be right back!” You called over the wind.

The crew watched through scratched and dirty windows as you shoved a bandana over your nose and slapped a hat onto your head. An orange cowboy hat. You took it off of a hook on your porch, tightening its drawstring under your chin. The hat wasn’t particularly offensive in and of itself, of course. It was a simple, bright orange with a red banded set of goggles on the brim, which you promptly slipped off of the hat and over your eyes, their blue tinted glass glinting in the slowly suffocating sunlight. You gave the pirates a two fingered salute through your windows before sprinting toward your dune buggy right by your house, speeding off in a cloud of sand to help your town hunker down for the storm.

Logically, such a fashion choice would mean very little to someone. Logically, it might even make one laugh at the similarity, the irony. Logically, it was just a hat. But the way it was the exact shade, exact cut. The way your goggles mirrored the smiley tokens. The way your own freckles sprawled over your cheeks…there was nothing logical about it. Who the fuck did you think you were?

The Straw-Hat crew collectively held their breath, all eyes on their captain. Luffy’s smile finally cracked.

“Hey! What’s she got that for?” He exclaimed, rattling the front door’s handle, making its old hinges groan and creak.

Nami and Usopp both grabbed their captain by the shoulders, trying to pry him away from the door, “It’s just a coincidence!” Nami insisted, tugging harder,

“Nuh-uh!” Luffy called out, kicking wildly at his crew mates. “That’s Ace’s hat!”

Nami whined, “Sanji! Make some food or something and make him relax! Or else I’m knocking him out!”

Sanji didn’t even take time to swoon, getting right to work, raiding your fridge and pantry, looking mostly for some type of meat for the ravenous man who was rapidly trying to tear down your door. The cook practically chittered with glee as he found your store of the famed Boar meat, quickly making a plan in his mind as to best prepare it in such a quick fashion.

“Calm down!” Zoro chimed in trying to help calm down the out of character behavior. The swordsman whacked Luffy on the head, “You can’t do shit till she’s back, dipshit!” He hissed, palming the captain’s head like a basketball.

Luffy let out a strangled cry of anguish, flopping onto the ground, “Stupid hat.” He muttered.

Nami, Usopp, and Zoro let him fall, jumping back, the crew all looking between each other. They had left Brook and Franky on the ship, Robin was holding Chopper to her side, running a hand along his fur, trying to soothe him, Sanji was whirling away in the kitchen, and the other three were sat clueless as to what to do. How do you make someone feel better when you’ve never seen them like this?

Luffy scowled, scrambling to his feet and rushed to your living room, sticking his face against the glass of a window, leaning against the beat-up mint green couch under it. ‘Ugly couch.’ Luffy thought bitterly.

Luffy wasn’t wrong. Your furniture was a true-blue hodgepodge of different pieces you’d picked up doing odd jobs or found on the side of the road and fixed up. Nothing went together and it all had patches and noticeably repaired wooden pieces.

Luffy’s eyes drove over the sandy landscape, peeled for your shadow coming up the drive, but it wasn’t there, not yet.

The Straw-Hats all gathered in the living room minus Sanji and settled around their frowning captain.

“What should we do?” Usopp whispered to the group, sitting on an obnoxious, yellow velvet ottoman. “I haven’t seen Luffy like this in ages.” He muttered, thrusting a thumb over his shoulder to where the man sat.

Robin sighed, holding Chopper in her lap, sat on a purple, floral print wingback chair. “I don’t think there’s anything we can do.” She started, “He needs to talk to her.”

“It’s not his hat though,” Zoro mumbled, leaning next to your mud brick fireplace, “it’s just another orange cowboy hat.”

Nami nodded, legs swung over an emerald, green love seat, “Surely, he knows that?”

Robin shrugged and shook her head, “It’s just his poor mind dealing with the grief.” She suggested.

“What if she knew Ace?” Chopper whispered into the still air of the room, running everyone’s breath stale.

“We won’t know anything until she comes back.” Robin chastised the small reindeer, “Don’t go and put ideas like that out into the universe. It might make things worse.”

Luffy could hear them talking but chose to ignore it, opting to keep his gaze glued on the sand whipping past the window, fixated on a wind chime you had on your porch that slanted with the wind, a wind chime with large, round, red beads hanging from it. Luffy felt his eye twitch as he set his jaw, teeth grinding a bit.

Robin rose from her seat and set Chopper down in her place, opting to walk around your space and see what you were all about. See if you had any good books or any clues as to why you and Ace shared so many similarities.

She travelled over to a small bookcase you had. One can tell a lot about someone based on their bookshelves. The types of readings they kept, the organization, the Knick knacks shoved between hard covers. Her sharp eyes drove over the disorganized covers and broken spines, her hands tucked neatly behind her. There were all kinds of books, with many glass vases and figurines all throughout. She paused, blinking back her shock a bit when she noticed a picture in a frame on the eye level shelf. It was of you, flames wrapped around your skin, a crooked grin on your face, your head topped by that same hat. Your flames burned bright yellow, a long pole in your hand. You had soot and sweat caked to your skin. You were a glass blower. And a Devil Fruit user. With flames.

‘Oh no,’ she thought, quickly looking over her shoulder to make sure Luffy was still preoccupied. Robin looked back at your photo and sighed, acknowledging the inevitable, and left it in place, looking further. You had books of all kinds, books about navigation, astronomy, anatomy, and sailing. You had thick novels about fantasy realms and thin manuals about forges and various vehicles.

Robin’s hands instinctively reached to grab a book from the third shelf. It was worn, with cracked leather binding. The front of it was rather unassuming, bare other than a small engraving of your name at the top. Robin tentatively opened the book, the insides held together with rings, the pages strung in by hand. The first few pages held photos of you as a child, a clipping of your first haircut, your first tooth that you lost, and Robin found a soft smile spreading across her face at the sight of your young, happy face.

The next section held pictures of you as a teenager, one labeled as your first time using your flames, and you held a terrified expression as the yellow flames licked up your arms. The next page showed you glass blowing alongside an old man, the hat now sported proudly on your head, all smiles all around.

The next page made Robin pause. It was a wanted poster. Your wanted poster. Robin quirked a brow at the bounty and the photo. You were worth a cool billion, and the photo of you looked terrifying, your eye glinting through a gap of your flames, your whole body in shadow, and still you had that hat on your head. Robin didn’t have to wonder long about what you had done, the next set of pages were full of clippings from newspapers from all around the world, detailing the adventures of the formidable “Glass Dragon”. You could allegedly form your body into the components for glass and summon flames all around you, namely your breath, to melt them together and form massive glass structures, and tempered glass armor or shields around yourself.

You were in story after story for different raids on the Marines, amassing a body count, encasing entire ships in bubbles of glass, sinking others with glass cannonballs flung through their hulls. The most recent of these adventures is what raised you past the millions. You had killed a high-ranking Marine. An Admiral.

The newspapers didn’t know why you had done it, what your motives were for targeting the marines with such ferocity, but the following page cleared things up. It was a single, small clipping in the middle of the page. It was just text, didn’t even have a picture. It was a simple story about Marines taking out a small fry pirate ship. On it a crew of thirty-nine were all slaughtered. It was thought that no one survived. The article had a simple quote from the now passed Admiral, “Those animals had it coming! Any who oppose the government and turn to piracy deserve to burn.” The statement made Robin clench her teeth, but she couldn’t help but notice, right under the snippet was a handwritten note. A promise. “One survived. And you’ll all burn for it.” It said with a set of tally marks underneath, twenty-five.

Robin pursed her lips, feeling invasive, but pressed on, flipping the page again, finding a large group photo, the crew who was killed. Right front and center was you, beaming with your arms around the two people at your side. Under the photo it was simply labeled “Last family photo” with a date, only days before the date of the slaughter. Robin’s eyebrows pinched in worry, turning the page. What followed were pages and pages of pictures of the passed crew and you, all singed on the edges, but intact. “The Spotted-Salamander Crew” was what you were called, your Jolly Roger sporting freckles and wrapped in green flames.

One photo that caught the woman’s eye was one labeled ‘Captain’ with birth and death dates under it. In the photo was a young man, no more than twenty, posing for a photo with you wrapped in his arms, more like a headlock, holding the camera high above you two, tipping your hat off of your head. He looked so much like you, with many dark freckles over his cheeks. He had bright green flames licking over his shoulders. ‘Another flame user?’

“Robin!” Came a call from Nami in the living room. Finally, Robin closed the book and set it back in place, striding over to the younger woman. Nami waved Robin closer over the back of the loveseat, “Find anything?”

Robin winced, “It’s worse than we thought.”

“How?!”

“She’s a Fire Devil Fruit user.” She whispered to Nami.

Nami paled, slapping her hand against her forehead, “Please tell me Sanji’s almost done cooking!” She whined.

Sure enough, the blond cook had just finished, placing platters of pork and toppings up onto the counter along with warm corn tortillas. He had made tacos.

“Food’s ready!” he shouted, the crew quickly rushing the counter, “She had a ton of tortillas on hand, so I thought I’d roll with it.” Sanji muttered, wiping the counters down.

The cook’s eyes scanned the crew who were up and getting the food. Luffy wasn’t there. Sanji gasped, hand slapping over his mouth. The other crew members looked at him, confused until he pointed over their heads, frantically gesturing to the preoccupied pirate. “He isn’t getting food!” Sanji hissed, threading his fingers into his hair and pulled. “This isn’t good.”

All six of them shared a look, Nami urging Zoro to say something, anything to their captain. Zoro’s eyes widened and he shook his head, “I don’t know what the fuck to do!” he whispered through gritted teeth. Still, Nami insisted, gesturing again toward the stewing man. Zoro sighed, but turned around, “Luffy!” he exclaimed. Luffy didn’t even twitch, “Food’s ready. There’s meat!”

Luffy didn’t care. He felt his stomach growl and he thought the smell was amazing, but he couldn’t find it in him to get up. He felt in every fiber of his being that he needed to stay put, ready to see what your problem was when you came back.

The Straw-Hats all shook their heads and shrugged, “Let’s just eat, I’ll bring him a plate.” Robin insisted, grabbing a plate. They all did the same, with grumbles of worry and agreement. You didn’t have a dining room, so the pirate crew went back to their spots in your living room, Sanji and Zoro joining Luffy on the couch, the stretchy captain between them.

Luffy didn’t even touch the plate next to him, ignoring the soft conversation around him, barely even blinking.

Usopp scanned the room, noticing a record player next to your fireplace, a box full of vinyl records under its little table. The sniper thought, surely this might help. Luffy loved music and dancing. So, he set his food aside, finishing a bite of the juicy taco before wiping his hands on his pants and getting up, quietly stepping over to the player. He just grabbed one from the top of the pile, sliding it out of its sleeve and setting it up, gently resting the needle on its grooved surface.

Fun, rhythmic music with lots of wild drum and guitar came from the record, Usopp bouncing his head to the beat.

Luffy, on the other hand, tensed, head whipping over to stare daggers at the music player, frown deepening.

“What now?” Zoro groaned through a bite of his taco.

Luffy grit his teeth as he spoke, eyes fiery with rage, “Ace liked that song. Danced to it all the time.” He hissed. The whole room seemed to freeze, Sanji choked on a bite of his food, and Usopp frantically moved to take the needle off of the record. Luffy flopped onto the couch, sitting properly, but with crossed arms and slumped posture. “Who does she think she is? Is she trying to copy Ace or something?” Luffy grumbled, “Thinks she’s so great…”

The room dissolved into silence, the only sound was the occasional rustle of fabric when someone readjusted their posture and the whistling of the whipping wind. And that’s how the Straw-Hats sat for another twenty minutes, Luffy never once even looking at the plate of food.

Everyone flinched, Chopper shrieking as the scrape of wood on wood rang through the room. You were back. Luffy shot up, stomping over to wait for you to force your way through. When the door cracked open, you had to fight to not let it swing wildly, forcing it shut behind you. When you managed to get inside, you unraveled your robe from your body, shaking sand all over the floor before taking off your goggles and hat, shaking them out before shaking out your hair. All the while, Luffy sat patiently, an intense glare piercing through you. You, however, didn’t notice. Giggling as you let the sand fall all around you.

“Woo-ee!” you exclaimed, “Wasn’t expecting another storm like this for another month! Sorry it’s interrupting your visit!” you apologized, kicking off your boots, turning them upside down, letting a comical amount of sand accumulate under you. You noticed the uncharacteristic silence and finally looked up, eyes locking with Luffy’s enraged gaze, flinching back in response.

You eyed the pirate, brows pinched together, but continued hanging up your gear by the door, finally hanging your hat on a hook. “Can I help you?” you huffed, trying to keep it light.

Now, people also thought Luffy was a lot more innocent than he really was. He hung around Shanks, Ace was his brother, he’s a damned pirate. All of which became very clear when he opened his mouth, spitting out, “Where the fuck do you get off, lady?”

You blinked, trying to process the out of character attitude, raising your hands up, “I can’t control the weather, dude.”

Luffy shook his head and stomped up to you, reaching over your shoulder and snatching your hat off its hook, shaking it in your face, “This.” Luffy hissed, “Is my brother’s hat. You have his favorite music; you have a damned wind chime with beads just like his necklace. What’s the fuckin deal.”

You scowled, snatching your hat from Luffy’s hands, “It’s not his fucking hat! I’ve had this thing since I was twelve. My uncle gave it to me!” you snapped back holding Luffy back with your foot, keeping him from grabbing it back from you. You huffed and threw it over your neck, letting it hang behind you, “This whole island is covered in those beads, and it’s not my fault your brother has good taste!”

“Had.” Luffy grumbled, clenching his jaw.

You sighed, running your hand down your face, “Sorry, dude.” You muttered, holding your thumb and forefinger over your eyes, “What was his name?” you asked, not moving your hand.

Luffy narrowed his eyes, a fire burning in his belly, “Ace.”

You shook your head, “Don’t know him.” You insisted, dropping your hand to your side, setting your other on your hip.

“Portgas D. Ace. Firefist Ace.” Offered Nami from the living room, a mere four feet away, the whole crew watching you closely.

You blinked a few times, your mouth running dry, “Portgas is dead?” you whispered, your whole body language dropping immediately. You could almost hear a ringing in your ears, a whisper of his laughter. “You’re…Luffy, his Luffy?”

Luffy nodded, jamming a finger into your sternum, leaning in close, “How do you know him?”

You smacked his hand away, snarling out, “We were friends while I was a pirate. Got along cause of our Devil Fruits.” You stated, holding Luffy’s glare, a few of your yellow flames licking at your shoulders, “He got that necklace from me. All that music from over there is from here, my home island. He was friends with my brother too.” Luffy opened his mouth to lash out another question or accusation, he didn’t know yet, but you cut him off, “He got that hat here. From my uncle.” You insisted, getting in Luffy’s space, almost nose to nose.

“Funny, he never mentioned you.” Luffy taunted, lip curled, and fists clenched at his side.

Your eyes ran cold and Luffy saw your chin quiver, your flames all extinguishing at once, “He talked about you all the time.” You whispered, shoving past Luffy, heading toward your bookcase.

Luffy stuttered for a moment, but shook it off and followed you closely, “Why wouldn’t Ace have mentioned you?”

But you just shoved past him again, an aged leather book in your hands. “Sit.” You hissed, dragging Luffy by his ear to sit on the floor in your living room, plopping next to him in front of your coffee table, slapping the large book onto the banged up, glossy wooden surface.

Robin’s eyes widened as she recognized the book, and all of the other Straw-Hats leaned in close to get a look at what you were trying to show Luffy.

You flipped through the pages, ignoring Luffy’s gripes from beside you, slamming a hand down onto the page you were looking for. “Look.”

It was a set of pages labeled “Portgas” with multiple pictures of you, Ace, and your captain, all laughing, in multiple you three were all covered in flames. Each photo was dated and had little details in the margins like, “tried making s’mores with all of our flames, only Portgas’s tasted good.” “dork” and “always stole my hat”. There were pictures of you three on your ship, on the island, at parties, dancing. Many didn’t have you at all, just your captain and Ace.

“Portgas was older than me, so he hung out with my brother most of the time. He was like a second brother to me.” You started, a sad, faraway look in your eyes.

Robin gasped silently, a hand covering her mouth, ‘Her brother was her captain.’ She realized, flashes of words running past her eyes, namely “No survivors” and “One survived.” Luffy was about to hit a sore spot, but Robin could only look on in horror, unable to stop him.

“We all practiced using our Devil Fruits together and hung out anytime he was able to swing by the ship or by here.” You went on, ignoring Luffy’s brewing emotions next to you, “He was my brother’s best friend.”

“Not my fault your brother has good taste.” Luffy mocked, rolling his eyes. It irritated him how you acted like you had a right to mourn Ace like he did. He wasn’t your brother. He was Luffy’s brother.

“Had.” You whispered; jaw clenched.

The crew around you actively flinched, all looking at each other in a panic. All eyes on you as you rushed to your feet, mumbling about taking a shower. Robin quietly slipped away to check on you, following you down a hallway off the kitchen.

Luffy felt a white-hot shock run through him, making his heart skip a beat. He felt like he should feel bad for making you upset, for reminding you of your dead brother like you had reminded him of his, but he didn’t. He couldn’t find it in him. So, he still stewed, greedily taking in the photos in the book in front of him. Luffy couldn’t help the sting in his eyes as he stared at one particular photo. It was of Ace getting his ASCE tattoo. You were there holding his hand as your brother ran the tattoo needle over Ace’s skin, Ace had a dramatic grimace on his face, and you were right there laughing at him. All three of you were wearing matching orange hats.

“Why wouldn’t he have told me about them?” Luffy muttered, fighting back tears.

His crew all panicked again, unsure of how to continue. “Maybe it just didn’t come up?” Chopper offered, tilting his head to try and meet Luffy’s eye.

“I asked him about the hat. I asked him about all kinds of stuff that’s in this stupid book. He didn’t tell me about it.” Luffy felt the fiery pit of anger and grief bubbling inside him again, “Ace hid this stuff from me.”

Nami slid off of the loveseat she sat on and crouched down to Luffy’s level. “I’m sure he had a good reason.” She said trying to lay a comforting hand on Luffy’s arm. He snatched the limb away, making Nami startle.

“Stop being a brat.” Zoro barked, “You’re being mean.”

Luffy just set his jaw again, tapping his finger on the coffee table, “I’m fine.” He insisted, whirling away to a hallway off of the front door, trying to find somewhere to be alone.

“Let him go, marimo.” Sanji insisted, jutting an arm out to stop Zoro from rushing after him, “I think he needs to cool off.” Zoro just grumbled, settling deeper into the ugly, comfortable couch.

“I don’t know why he’s acting like this.” Robin said apologetically as you rushed around your bedroom, grabbing out clothes and a towel for your shower. “He’s never like this. I’m actually quite worried.”

You shrugged, a wry chuckle slipping from your lips. “I’m sorry I brought it out of him.”

Robin worried her bottom lip between her teeth, “I’m serious, he’s always a bouncy little ball of sunshine.”

“Grief does weird shit.” You reasoned, suddenly freezing your movements, looking far off somewhere, somewhere nowhere near the island, “Is Portgas really dead?” you whispered, clutching the shirt in your hand with a white-knuckle grip.

Robin nodded sadly, “I’m afraid so. He died protecting Luffy.”

Your knees buckled a bit, Robin rushing to catch you. You finally let the tears fall, “Did you see it?” you asked lowly, holding tight to Robin’s arm. Robin simply nodded, running a hand up and down your arm.

“Did he die smiling?” you whispered. Robin flinched back, confused, “All three of us said we’d go down in a fight, and we’d be happy about it, a no regrets kinda thing. That we’d all die with a smile.” You explained, face running wet as you let out shuddered breaths, “My brother did. I’m only alive because he protected me. He died in my arms and was smiling, trying to make me laugh before he died.”

Robin swallowed the lump in her throat, taken aback by the similarities between you and Luffy and Ace. “He did. He passed away with a smile on his face in Luffy’s arms.” She muttered back.

You sobbed, burying your face in your hands, “I’m all alone.” Robin tried to reassure you otherwise, sure you had more people in the town, but you shook your head, “I was about to go looking for Portgas because there’s no one left. I’m an orphan, my uncle raised me and my brother. He’s dead. My whole-“ you choked up, “my whole crew was killed, all I had left was hoping to find Portgas and join whatever crew he was in. Now, he’s gone too. Now I’m being hunted by the Marines and all I have is my house.” You practically spilled your guts to the older woman, leaning into her warm embrace. “I don’t want to die.”

Robin knew what it felt like to be alone, to be an enemy of the World Government, she knew what it was like to be the sole survivor of a massacre even. So, as she looked at the shaking young woman in her arms, flashes of a certain captain’s smile, echoes of her own screams rattled through her mind.

“I WANT TO LIVE!”

Her eyes stung with the threat of tears as she shushed you gently, running her fingers along your spine. Should she have asked first? Yes. Did she? No. Did she regret it? Never.

“Come with us.”

You gasped in a breath, ripping your face from your hands, “But-but your captain-!”

“Will come to his senses.” Robin hummed gently.

You wiped your face and analyzed Robin’s features, looking for any dishonesty and you found none, only gentle eyes and a soft smile. A whole new wave of emotions washed over you, new tears welling over your waterline, and you threw yourself into the woman, wrapping your arms around her neck, sobbing into the high collar of her shirt. Robin just smiled, rocking you in the embrace, gently rubbing your back.

“Thank you.” You whispered through shuttered breath, pulling away and wiping your eyes, “I would love to sail with all of you, if you’ll have me.”

Robin grinned, ushering you to your feet and guiding you toward your bathroom, whispering little bits of encouragement into your ear before leaving you alone in the room, heading back to the living room, still smiling.

You took off your hat from around your neck and set it on the counter, looking at your haggard reflection, no sound but the whistling wind and the scratch of sand against the window. Your eyes were red, face puffy. You stared for a moment at your freckles, hating how much they reminded you of your lost loved ones. You took in the dirt and soot around your face, interrupted by your tear streaks and the pattern of your goggles.

You sighed and turned on the water, letting it heat up and took off your t-shirt, looking at your shoulder in the mirror, namely your tattoo you had there. It circled the muscle of your shoulder, a simple black image of a spotted salamander with fire framing its sides. You had gotten it right after Ace had gotten his, your brother doing the inking, and you had sat much more stable than Ace did.

Swallowing a lump in your throat, you began to strip the rest of the way, walking under the rushing warm water.

“She’s coming with us.” Robin said simply, taking a seat back on the purple chair she had claimed, Chopper coming up and sitting in her lap. The other pirates all winced and voiced their confusion and disagreement, silenced by Robin raising a hand, a fierce look of command shining in her eye. “I’m not asking. I’m telling. She’s all alone with a massive bounty. Besides, she’s a glass blower, and she doesn’t even need a forge to do it. You don’t think that would ever come in handy?” she insisted, not allowing any argument. “If you don’t believe me, I’ll show you.”

Robin used her Devil Fruit abilities to summon a hand on the coffee table, flipping to the pages with your bounty poster, the newspaper clippings of your antics with the Marines, and finally the single clipping that told the story of your passed crew, all the while verbalizing what the group was reading.

The group had gasped at your bounty, Sanji even questioning if the picture was really you, a shiver running up his spine. They marveled at your various escapades, all falling silent when they heard about the dead Admiral, Nami asking what he did to piss you off. The little clipping with your promise and tally made them fall silent, all of them understanding. Zoro saying he’d do the same and more if anything like that happened to the Straw-Hats.

“She’s one of us, whether Luffy realizes it or not.” Robin finished, closing the book. “Now, without Ace, she’s completely alone. No family, all her friends were on that crew, and frankly she’s in danger if she stays here.” She said resolutely, holding Chopper a little tighter in her hands. “I asked, she agreed, she’s coming.”

The crew all sat back and nodded, silently running the idea through their heads. “What about Luffy?” Usopp finally asked. “He’s having problems breathing the same air as her.”

Robin shook her head, “He’s grown. He can cope.”

The other pirates all huffed out laughs, a few rolled eyes here and there. “How do we tell him?” Sanji asked.

Nami waved him off, “Let’s wait until tomorrow. Maybe we should wait until we’re like a day away from leaving.” She suggested, “But we shouldn’t tonight. We need to get Luffy to bed and reassess in the morning.”

Little verbalized agreements sounded out from the group.

Luffy found his way into a large, dark room. He groped around the wall to find a light switch, flipping it quickly when he found it. The space lit up and he saw he was in a room with a metal roof and walls. The windows were all fogged from the abuse of years of sandstorms just like this one. The room was full of colorful glass sculptures, they seemed to cover every surface, a rainbow of fragile art in all different shapes and sizes. Luffy walked up to a particular table full of clear glass bottles, a bucket of corks next to them. Each bottle was perfectly uniform, the only reason he could tell them apart was some of them had small bubbles in their surfaces.

He picked one up and looked at it closely, noting some words on the bottom of it. Luffy flipped it over and read it. “Dragon Glass Co.” Luffy glowered at the name, setting it back onto the table and continued exploring. In one area there was a table full of tools, all different types of hammers, pliers, and wrenches scattered all around. In the middle of the table was a wooden box, holes predrilled into the lid, ready for hinges. The box’s lid had a window of green glass, flame etchings on the surface.

Over the workbench sat pictures all over the wall. Pictures of you with an old man, here in this room. Pictures of you and the guy Luffy assumed was your brother goofing off and having fun. There was even a picture of Ace, an embarrassed blush all across his face as he held up a measly glass sculpture, a little orange…blob. The frame had a little plaque, “Portgas’s first time.” Luffy frowned at the double entendre, not appreciating the joke. Luffy turned away from the wall of photos and sighed, sliding down against the wall, curling up his knees into his chest.

Luffy loved his friends, loved his crew with his whole heart, but it wasn’t the same. First, he lost Sabo, then Ace, and it bored a hole into Luffy’s heart, his soul, his very being. He thought he had dealt with it well, thought he had coped like he was supposed to, but there he was, hopelessly and irrationally angry at a woman for just…being friends with his brother. Well, it was more than that to him. It ran way deeper than just that, and Luffy just couldn’t shake the thought, ‘Why didn’t Ace tell me about her? About her brother? Any of it?’ Ace told him everything, or so he thought. Ace would even tell him all kinds of little things like how he liked his eggs, how he hated wearing shirts most of the time because the seams irritated his skin and overheated him with his Devil Fruit. He’d sit and tell Luffy about girls, about his day, about life and love and death and everything in between. But he never mentioned you and it ate at Luffy, like a termite biting at a house’s foundation. ‘Why?’

You padded into the living room, hair still dripping a bit onto your bare shoulders. You had changed into a simple cropped tank top and soft, flowy pants, and still you had your hat hanging from your neck. You didn’t usually wear it around the house, but Luffy’s ranting and snatching made you protective, so it never strayed far from you. “Hey, guys.” You said, sitting next to Nami on the loveseat. “Let me know when you’re ready to turn in for the night and I’ll show you to your rooms.”

“How big is this house?” Usopp asked incredulously, “It looked kinda small from outside other than the big metal garage.”

You shrugged with a smile, “It’s compact, but there isn’t any space wasted.” You said, smile dropping a bit as you continued, “Used to have a lot more people in it.”

Zoro reached over and kicked Usopp in the knee, “Nice going.” He chided.

“It’s okay.” You assured the guilty looking sniper, “It’s just a little raw today.”

Robin’s eyes shot wide, one twitching slightly as she remembered the dates. It was the day before the three-year anniversary of the slaughter of the Spotted-Salamanders. ‘Could any of this get any worse?’

“It’s my brother’s birthday tomorrow.” You muttered, curling your knees up to your chest.

Robin almost choked, ‘I should have read those dates more carefully!’

“It’s also the day he died.” You went on. The Straw-Hats tensed in sympathetic winces, “Marines got a jump on us cause we were all celebrating on the ship. I’m sure you read the articles,” you said, gesturing to the book still on the coffee table. “Made me think twice about being your tour guide, but I thought it’d be a nice distraction.” You said with a light giggle, drawing a snort of a laugh from Zoro and making Robing bite back a chuckle.

“A beautiful woman such as yourself shouldn’t have to go through such suffering.” Sanji said, ever the flirt, eyes practically heart shaped as he stared at you.

You blinked at the man, confused, “Aren’t you like 30?” you asked flatly.

Sanji practically collapsed, “I’m twenty-one!” he whined.

You shrugged, “The facial hair threw me off, sorry.”

“Don’t worry-“ Zoro cut him off with a harsh smack to the back of the head, stopping him from continuing his flirting.

“Shup up, you perv.” He hissed, “She’s not interested.”

Sanji flung himself back up, “Like she’d be interested in you, moss head!”

“I never said that!” Zoro growled, clenching his hand into a fist.

“Cause it wouldn’t happen!” Sanji exclaimed, sticking out his tongue in mockery.

You frowned, “No fighting under my roof, or I’ll make you help me sweep out my house from the dunes when the storm stops.”

“We’ll help you do that anyhow, sweetheart.” Robin assured you, Chopper agreeing in her lap.

You bobbed your head, mulling something over, “Then I’ll make them do it with their hands.” You chided, wiggling your brows at the blanching boys. “In wet bathing suits, then you’ll really feel that sand where you don’t want to.” Making the cook and swordsman fling apart, facing away from each other on their respective ends of the couch.

Nami and Usopp spluttered out laughs, Robin only chuckling quietly.

“You two aren’t my type anyway.” You teased.

Nami perked up, “Who is?”

You kinda shrugged, “I always go for brunettes who make me laugh,” you chuckled.

Usopp’s mouth worked faster than his brain sometimes, “Did you date Ace?” his crew members immediately sending Usopp glares.

Your face dropped in pure mortification, “Portgas was older than my brother! And was gross! Do you have any idea how rank his pits could get? And he practically was my brother after a while.” You explained, nose scrunched in disgust, “I’ve seen that man make out with a fish when he got drunk,” You started, numbering out the reasons as you spoke, “I’ve had to help him run away from his angry exes on multiple occasions, cause he always was an ass boyfriend to them cause he only existed as a goofy noncommittal flirt when he got around anything with lip-gloss and boobs,” you started to laugh as you went on, enjoying the smiles all around you, “I mean, the longest relationship I saw him have was his friendship with my brother! One time my whole crew had to bail him out because he was being chased off an island because he hooked up with a mafia boss’s daughter the day of her wedding. In the church!” you exclaimed. “I’d have a better time looking for a boyfriend in Impel Down!” The room erupted into laughter; deep belly laughs as you told your stories.

“So Luffy’d be more your type?” Nami teased without thinking. Her eyes shot wide when she realized what she’d said, trying to take it back.

You grabbed her waving hands and told her it was okay, a soft chuckle rumbling through you. “I don’t really know what he’s normally like,” you started, letting Nami’s hands go, noting the heavy tension in the air, “but from what you guys keep saying, yeah, honestly.”

The Straw-Hats let out a collective sigh and relaxed back into their plush seats. “He really isn’t like this.” Chopper chimed, “He’s normally super nice and funny.”

You nodded and shrugged, “Maybe he’ll warm up to me.”

“I’m sure he will.” Chopper insisted with a yawn.

Robin smiled down at the young reindeer, “Sleepy, Little One?” Chopper tried to say no, but a big yawn interrupted him. “Mind showing us where we can get some sleep?”

You nodded and popped up out of your seat, gesturing for everyone else to do the same, “I’ll show you all at the same time.” The whole crew followed you as you walked into the hallway off of the kitchen again, walking past a few open doors to the left, one was the door of a small bedroom with two twin beds, one quite messy and obviously slept in, the other made neatly, dust settling on the headboard. The other door was of a small bathroom, “This is the only bathroom, so share. No fighting.” You said, eyeing Zoro and Sanji with a playful glare. “Feel free to use the shower, I don’t care if you use my soap and stuff.” The group then turned to the right, being met with a large, closed door. You shoved through the group and popped open the door, flipping a light switch, “You all can sleep in here.” You said, ushering the pirate crew into the large room.

It was a simple room, as were most things in your house, with a few windows around two of the walls, a glass door to the outside on one wall. The room had three bunk beds, all securely bolted to the wall and the ground, one up against a wall, the others sat parallel, two hammocks connecting each of them around the top. The room had plenty of space otherwise, taken up by bedrolls and fluffy rugs over the cool stone floor. The walls were covered in haphazardly placed hooks for coats and hats, otherwise scattered with more photos and a few, ornate glass flowers and starburst sculptures hanging from the ceiling, bathing the room in rainbows of light.

The pirate crew filed in with mouths agape in awe, an instant feeling of home filling all of their chests. “Wow,” Nami breathed out, “This is really nice.”

You had a soft smile on your face, gently holding the doorframe, “This used to be where my crew would crash between our voyages.” You said, exaggerating the last word, “My house became our little dry base of operations. Which makes sense cause my brother was the captain and I was the first mate,” you chuckled.

“You didn’t say you were first mate,” Zoro stated with a furrowed brow.

You shrugged, “Never mattered.”

“Did you make these?” Robin asked, reaching a hand up to touch a blue starburst.

“Yup! Made em with blood, sweat, and tears…and a bit of me,” you laughed at the perturbed faces of the pirates around you. “Here, watch!” you exclaimed, shooing everyone away from you in a wide berth, placing a rounded fist to your lips, blowing through the gap. The pirates all watched in curious awe as a small, molten hot balloon of glass blew out of the other end of your fist, using your free hand to cradle the glass. All the while, small yellow flames licked up your arms and flicked around your face, most of them blowing into the bubble of glass in your hand. When the glass was about the size of a coconut you took your fist away from your mouth, pinching your hand closed, grabbing the glowing glass with your free hand, both of which were glowing with heat. You quickly got to work pinching at it, pushing and pulling at its shape with ease, making it into something the Straw-Hats couldn’t quite make out yet. When you were satisfied, you held the glass out in front of you, the glow dying from your hands and the glass. When it fully cooled, the Straw-Hats were able to see that it was a small, red sculpture of Chopper! Little hat, hooves, and all! You carefully knelt down in front of the reindeer, handing it to him with care.

Chopper took it eagerly, shocked at the cold, solid feeling, “It’s me!” he exclaimed, a giddy smile on his face.

You nodded right back, a big smile on your face, “You can put it in your window and watch it make some of your room red.” Chopper excitedly handed the glass off to Robin next to him, launching you into a quick hug before a loud yawn sounded next to your ear, making you giggle. “Where do you want to sleep, Chopper?” you asked, holding him to your shoulder as you rose.

“Hammock,” he said sleepily, pointing with a hoof at the closest one. You complied quickly, placing him into the swinging fabric, tucking him into a plush pillow.

The other human pirates huddled around Robin, looking closely at the small sculpture of their little reindeer doctor, enamored with the detail.

“So cool!” Usopp whispered, poking at glass Chopper’s head.

“You guys ready to sleep?” you asked, startling the group other than Robin who had watched you walk up.

Zoro and Usopp nodded, climbing into different bunk beds with little “Good night”’s.

Sanji and the girls looked between themselves, “I don’t usually go to bed until pretty late, cause I’m prepping breakfast.” The cook said with a shrug.

You waved him off, “Don’t even think about it, I’ll make breakfast in the morning. Take an early night.” You commanded, shoving him toward one of the bunk beds. Sanji put up no fight, just awkwardly shifted under the covers, a little unsure of what to do with himself.

You then turned to the girls, curious what their reasons were.

“I refuse to sleep in the same room as that pervy cook.” Nami said simply, crossing her arms.

You just shrugged, “You can take my bed.” You suggested.

“I can’t take your bed.” She declared, the heat of embarrassment flushing her cheeks.

“I insist.” You assured, “Just don’t touch the other bed. You’ll know which one’s mine. My name’s on the headboard.” You gently shoved Nami into the hallway, turning away so she couldn’t argue, looking at Robin with a quirked brow.

“I want to make sure Luffy gets to bed first.” Robin said, guiding you by the middle of your back out of the room, flicking off the light but keeping the door open. “You head to sleep, and I’ll grab him.” She whispered.

You nodded and walked away from her, into the living room and plopped onto the beat-up couch, grabbing a blanket off the back and relaxing into one of the plush pillows you had there, resting your hat over your eyes, “Light switch is by the front door, sleep well, Robin.” You said, voice muffled by the hat over your face.

Robin smiled and went ahead and flicked off the light by producing a hand out of the wall, her night vision better than most. Robin quietly strode down the hallway Luffy had stormed off into and quickly found a single door, opening it as silently as possible.

When inside, Robin’s eyes searched the workshop, taking in all of the colors, mostly looking for a certain straw hat. Her eyes locked onto the curled-up figure of her captain, his eyes staring blankly, straight ahead.

“Captain.” She called, walking her way over to him, crouching in front of him. His eyes never moved, staring through her, “Captain, it’s time to go to sleep.” She said softly. Luffy didn’t even acknowledge her, “I’m going to give you one more chance to get up on your own, or I’m dragging you to bed kicking and screaming.” Robin stated, resting a hand on the young man’s head.

Luffy took her hand off his head, “I’m not tired.”

Robin shook her head with a smile, “It’s late, you’re usually asleep by now. Let’s get you to bed.”

“Why does she get to know all this stuff, why’d she get so much time with him?” Luffy asked, tears pricking at his eyes.

Robin’s heart pulled, “I don’t know, Luffy. These things happen, and sometimes we never know why.” She whispered, “Maybe you could ask her to tell stories about Ace, learn what she knows about him. I’m sure he’d be happy to know you two were getting along.”

A few tears fell from Luffy’s eyes, “If he would be happy we were around each other, why’d he never tell me about her?” he insisted, shoving his face into his hat.

Robin pursed her lips and sighed, “I don’t know, Luffy. But you’ll never get an answer unless you get to know her properly.” Luffy shrugged, face still hidden, “C’mon, let’s go to bed.” She urged, grabbing the young man’s hand and rising to her feet, Luffy reluctantly standing with her.

When they stood straight, Robin gently took Luffy’s hat in her hands and pushed it back onto the top of his head, exposing his watery eyes and red nose. Without a word, Robin pulled him into a hug, resting her chin on top of his head. They stayed there for a while, who knows how long, until Luffy yawned, making Robin pull back.

Silently, Luffy let the older woman guide him through the dark house into a room with windows that filtered in a bit of light, the light snores of his crewmates filling Luffy’s ears. Robin gestured to the beds and hammocks, waiting for Luffy to choose where he wanted to sleep, and he slowly trudged his way toward one of the hammocks, hoisting himself up into it. Robin followed closely, helping him settle into the covers.

When her captain was comfortable, she patted his chest and slipped toward the empty bunk bed, the boys taking over two. She cuddled under the covers, looking at the bed above her. She was drifting off to sleep, her eyes fluttering shut. That’s when they snapped open, landing on a small, white envelope tucked between the boards above her. She reached up and tugged it out of its confines, reading the envelope in the dark. It had Luffy’s name on it, and it said it was from Ace. Robin’s heart dropped into her feet as she realized what it said. She quickly shoved what she thought might be a letter into her pillowcase, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. What could be in that letter? Why was it hidden in your house if it was for Luffy?

[grandlinedreaming]

Soft

Sir Crocodile x gn!reader. Sfw. Fluff.

“ You’ll get gray hairs, fretting over paperwork like that.”

Crocodile didn’t need to look up to know who had dared to speak to him in such a way. Only two persons dared and one was far more caring in the way they did it. Y/N leaned in the doorway, their arms crossed. They wore one of the green robes with fluffy edges he’d bought them, once. Without even looking at them, he could tell just how annoyed they seemed to be with him. “ Not that it wouldn’t look good on you, you could make rags look good but, you haven’t left your office since yesterday. Have you even slept?

- I’m not tired, dear. And these reports aren’t going to write themselves, are they?”

The cruel and ruthless pirate that is Sir Crocodile found himself soft in Y/N’s presence. He toned down his barks, kept his threats for later and held back his hook and sand-sand powers when they were near, always careful to keep them away from the blood and grime of his real work. They knew of his identity as warlord. Only, just like most citizens of Alabasta, they ignored the existence of the monster hiding in plain sight. He almost felt guilty, almost. He made sure they wanted for nothing, not a single expanse was spared for them. He covered them in gold, jewels, high-end products and everything they even hinted at wanting. He treated them like his own personal royalty. Sometimes, he wondered if they had placed a spell on him.

Y/N approached his desk and sat on the edge, trying to get his grey eyes to meet theirs. They sighed loudly and stood. They spotted a whiskey bottle in a case of one of his tall built-in bookshelves. They took two glasses and poured each of them a small drink. Heading back to him, they placed the drink in front of him and sat sideways in one of the chairs opposite him. They sipped quietly whilst mindlessly reading a book they had swiped from the bookcase. It was no good. If he wouldn’t go to sleep in their shared bedroom, then they would stay here until he was done. Now it was his turn to sigh.

Silence took hold of the room, only the occasional turning of pages and pen scribbles disturbing the settled calm. Moments like these, where they could be in each other’s company without being bothered were few and far in between. Even in such quiet, the air wasn’t heavy on them. It was rare they got to be so close to him without someone’s interruption, Mr. 1, miss all-Sunday, guards, citizens, calls or, like tonight, important papers needing sorting or approval. To Y/N, it became hard, some days, to love such a man and never getting to see him. They knew how important he was to Alabasta but, they also knew he was the reason he needed to be. After all, the problems in the kingdom began with baroque works, and who also coincidentally arrived at the same time? They weren’t that daft. Although they did have a nudge from miss all-Sunday.

They knew some of who he truly was, but the purpose for his actions still escaped them. They often wondered if the gift-showering was part of the disguise; keeping them occupied and their mind away from his affairs. Who knew? Certainly not them. They just knew that when they looked in those ashen eyes, almost the same shade as the ash from his favorite cigars, they couldn’t help but forget the blood that may cover his jeweled hand and golden hook. When they heard his gruff voice, they forgot they might be, at night, lying next to the kingdom’s worst enemy. They knew that he might be a living nightmare but, if he wanted the throne of their kingdom, they would carve it out the finest marble and cover in as much gold as he liked. In a way, they weren’t any better than him.

Crocodile sighed and let his gaze rest on his partner; their eyes were closing on their own, no page from their book having been turned in minutes. He grabbed their glass just as it slipped from their fingers. Surprised, they looked back at him. He placed the drink back on his desk and offered his hand: “ Let’s go to bed, dear.” They smiled and took hold of his extended hand, almost skipping to catch up with him down the hall. How they could make him so soft remained a mystery for the powerful Sir Crocodile.

[french-unknown]

𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖒𝖊

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘: shanks, vivi, ace, law, sabo 𝖈/𝖜: fluff, domestic 𝖜/𝖈: 1.9k +

| m a s t e r l i s t | - | p t . 1 | - | p t . 3 | | e v e n t . s u m m a r y |

𝖘𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖐𝖘

horror stories around campfire

All the crew was gathered on logs around the campfire. Lost in the depths of a new island, you had found a cave to serve as your home and protect you from bad weather among the immensity of the jungle that surrounded you.

The alcohol was thus happily welcomed while waiting for the log to recharge. Fortunately, after a week of waiting, you could finally leave tomorrow during the day.

Tonight was a celebration.

Unfortunately, the lack of rum which had run out due to the boredom of the stay as well as the fatigue linked to the heavy and humid atmosphere of the climate, had pushed you to keep the party reasonable. So you were sitting around the fire, laughing and talking to each other, while you more or less finished your meal. The alcohol was flowing but it was still in appropriate quantities compared to some other evenings.

However, Yasopp stood up and began to speak. With a piece of meat still in one hand and a glass in the other, he told the crew how he had once been chased by a village of cannibalistic men when he was a child.

You stood staring at him, caught up in the frightening story even though you knew it was made up, without flinching.

But you suddenly jumped when, during a tense moment, you felt something suddenly jump on your back. You reacted violently because of the surprise and, at the same time, you spilled some of your beer on your knees and your hand. Shanks' hot laugh rang in your ear a while before that of your other comrades.

You then felt the captain wrap his arms around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder. A bit humiliated at being made fun of for spilling your alcohol on yourself, you unceremoniously removed him from you. However, far from being offended, he immediately returned to the charge by taking your hand while miming an exaggerated apology.

Now that the crew's attention was once again diverted to the shooter, you let yourself soften at Shanks' comical behavior.

You even almost smiled at his excessive bowing.

But, as he moved in for the most ridiculous hand kiss, you felt the wetness of his tongue licking a length across the top of your hand. You quickly took it away, disgusted. For his part, he laughed at your pout.

“You would be delicious to eat, too.” he stated, returning to his own glass while throwing you a wink over the top.

𝖛𝖎𝖛𝖎

halloween party

Tonight was the night dedicated to celebration in Alabasta so all the cities across the country had set up open-air markets as well as light decorations all over the streets.

And Alubarna was not to be outdone.

So, when you learned that Vivi couldn't leave the castle that evening because none of her guards were available to take her to the capital, it didn't take much for you to sneak over her room. After some coaxing, she ended up putting on a colorful veil to hide her well-known hair and face from the population before letting herself be guided out of her palace.

You then very quickly reached the scene of the celebrations.

Everywhere in the streets, the shops were decorated with pumpkin-shaped lanterns while the trees and walls were illuminated with several hundred small orange lights that twinkled like stars in the night. Their hue was less vibrant than that of the Alabasta sun but they seemed no less captivating to the princess. In the air, the smells of pumpkins and spices were everywhere along with those of hot alcohol.

The stands sold all kinds of items.

There were drinks, hot meals and biscuits. But there were also spiritual stands with tarot cards or pendulums. Some others instead sold toys such as ghost balloons and fake spiders.

Around you, families were weaving while children were happily rowdying among the passersby.

Around a stand, you felt Vivi take your hand to pull you into a nearby street. She then pinned you against the wall, out of sight, before diving towards your lips to kiss you. As quickly as she had leaned in, she drew back until her face was visible. There, you saw her with a beautiful smile on her lips and her eyes shining with happiness while her face stood half lit by the lights of the festivities.

"Thanks." she whispered before leaning toward your lips again.

𝖆𝖈𝖊

couple costumes

"Please! Please! Please!" Ace begged while kneeling in front of you, head bowed, with his hands raised above his head in prayer. "Let me choose our costumes. I've been thinking about it for months!"

Because of the time he was begging you on the ground, you began to hesitate. In itself, you hadn't planned any particular costumes for the crew's Halloween party tonight but you couldn't help but fear the worst. Especially coming from him who had the habit of walking around shirtless everywhere in just his shorts. You were a little afraid of the amount of fabric he would offer you for tonight.

However, you end up accepting: it was just a party, you weren't going to die for a revealing outfit!

Ace immediately jumped for joy before kissing you right on the lips and running off to his room. You just had time to hear him say to wait for him before he closed the door behind him. You then waited quietly behind the door, afraid to see what costume he was going to show up in. You prayed he wouldn't take anything too sexy or pirates like Boa Hancock.

Finally, the door opened ajar.

"You are ready?" he asked without you being able to see him yet.

Once you had nodded, he opened the door wide and came out like a beautiful devil.

The first thing that caught your eye was the huge purple afro wig he wore on his head. Then came his dark red leotard, which left nothing to the imagination considering how little it covered and how tight it was. And then came his fishnet stockings. At this point, you weren't even surprised that he was wearing stiletto boots, a pearl necklace, and heavy makeup with huge false eyelashes. His fake tattoo on his chest didn't even make you blink anymore, either.

Proud of himself, he spread his arms from his body before turning around to show you the costume completely.

"How do you find me?" he asked you, proud as a peacock. “I am one of the abominable commanders of the Revolutionary Army!”

"You're... original?"

The answer seemed to suit him since he gave you a bright smile before retracing his steps to bring you back your outfit.

When you arrived later at the party, he wore his outfit like a child at the school fair while you stood by his side, still stunned. You were dressed in a long two-tone orange and white fur coat as well as the rest of the paraphernalia. You wore a wig of the same colors with a bow tie and a glass of wine already filled.

You hadn't expected that when he asked you to choose your costumes.

𝖑𝖆𝖜

black cat

As you walked down a dimly lit street with Law, you heard something moving next to you.

Then a meow.

Immediately, a completely black cat came out of the darkness before walking directly towards both of you. He went first to the surgeon and rubbed against his legs while letting out little meows. However, when he saw that the man wasn't even looking down at him, he changed his target and came towards you.

He then started his trick again, this time rubbing against your legs.

“Don’t do that,” Law growled when you reached down to pet him. “it’s not hygienic.”

Yet, that didn't stop you from plunging your hand into his fur. It was soft and warm and the cat immediately began to rub against your palm, begging for more petting. He didn't seem aggressive at all so you bent down completely to take him into your arms.

"No!" the surgeon continued while raising his eyes to the sky when you were at eye level with the feline. “It’s dirty, you don’t even know where it went!”

But you continued to pet the animal, now snuggled comfortably against your chest, while looking at your lover who was desperately trying to avoid looking at the creature.

But said creature suddenly turned its eyes towards him and started meowing again while starting to wriggle in your arms.

When you put him down, he went back to the surgeon and started rubbing against his legs again. He rubbed himself against one, then passed between his feet to rub against the other. He made figure eights between Law's ankles then rubbed his head against the bottom of his calf. All while continuing to make his adorably cute little noises.

Finally, Law sighed under your amused gaze and looked away from the stars. He leaned his eyes toward his feet and met those of the feline.

You knew at that moment that the cat had won.

Sure enough, he crouched down to get closer to the animal but, instead of remaining still so he could run his hand through its fur, the feline instead jumped onto his lap. Unbalanced, Law hugged him so that he didn't fall and he took the opportunity to move up towards his neck to place his paws on his shoulders and his head under his chin.

Law stood up to steady himself with the cat still snuggled against him.

When he saw your mocking look, he opened his mouth to defend himself but was immediately cut off by a purr coming from the little creature. He immediately closed his mouth and, avoiding your gaze, he dipped his hand back into the fur to start stroking it again.

"Shut up." he growled.

𝖘𝖆𝖇𝖔

automn with pumpkin juice

The afternoon was quite cool but you were enjoying the moment thanks to Sabo's company.

After days of rain, you decided to finally go out a little to walk around. There were no bars or anything around, so the walk seemed like a good solution to stretch your legs.

You found yourself walking on the forest paths in your high boots to protect yourself from the puddles, while the red and orange leaves under your feet crunched when you stepped on them. Other leaves of this fiery hue still clung to the branches of the trees around you and gave them the look of flames when they were shaken by the wind. A smell of rain drowned the forest.

When the ride came to an end, you headed home.

You went to take your shower first then Sabo went. He went straight out from the bathroom to the kitchen and heated up two cups of pumpkin juice. As the liquid heated, he lit the fireplace and gathered the soft blankets on the couch in front of your watching eyes.

Finally, he returned to the kitchen to serve the two drinks and returned before placing the cups on the small tables. He sat quietly on the couch by the fireplace and lifted his arm so you could come and snuggle against him.

So you jumped on him to press yourself against his side.

He closed his arms around you and covered you both with the soft blankets. He then collected the two pumpkin juices and handed you your hot cup, which you held pleasantly in your hands, before starting to drink his.

You spent the rest of the afternoon like this: warm in your living room, curled up together, while drinking your juices.

𝖘𝖊𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖙𝖔𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖗𝖔𝖜!

𝖏𝖔𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 𝖎𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖉𝖔𝖓'𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖞 𝖚𝖕𝖉𝖆𝖙𝖊

𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @iheartamora @bontensh0e @opchara @idsmash717 @lys-ada @xomingyu @parkyrr @dozcan123 @livwritesfics @anotherproblemsos @phsycochan

[ladycrocy]

My very first fanfic!!!

AO3

Hey everyone! I have finally pieced togeth a small fanfic of just a scene I recently had in my head of Crocodile and Doflamingo.

Please go a little easy on me for this one as I am just starting out. I hope that you find it at least as entertaining as I did.

Word count: 1446

Warnings: Use of foul language, unsolicited graphic images, Verbal humiliation/abuse. (Please let me know if I need to add more ;-;)

Crocodile x Doflamingo

Crocodile caught in a birdcage

The king of the desert sat atop his throne amongst a pile of paperwork. This had become the norm now that all his pieces were falling into place in Alabasta. With Baroque Works finally taking off on its own, he could finally see a light at the end of the tunnel. Crocodile took a long puff of his expensive cigar and released a large cloud of smoke with a content exhale. Today would have to be another late night. The lack of trust in anyone else was his own demise and often left him with more paperwork than necessary.

A familiar bleating of a transponder snail snapped him out of his trance. He hadn't realized just how much of a headache he was suffering. "Click." The snail responded to him when he picked up the receiver. "Mr.0,"was his answer to the call connecting.

On the other end of the transmition was a soft, feminine voice. "Sir, you have a guest here to see you."

This irritated Crocodile to no end. Who could be bothering him at this time of day? Most likely one of his own to give him disappointing news. Baroque Works was a huge organization, but he was sacrificing quality on all that quantity. At least they were expendable. "Send them in." His deep voice could hardly care to hide his disapproval. Mentally preparing himself, he hangs up the receiver.

This was a good time as any for a drink. He poured himself a glass and leaned back in his big leather chair in order to relax before a vein popped out of his already furrowed brow. Nothing had even happened, and he was already preparing for the worst. At this time, he had made a mental note to weed out some of his more useless subordinates.

The doors burst open with no sign of anyone behind them. The smell of expensive cologne wafted in before Crocodile could make out the outline of a ten foot blond. The guttural sound that left his lips could never even remotely express his absolute disdain for the man entering. Donquiote Doflamingo. However, Crocodile is nothing if not a business man first. Doflamingo had proven his worth of this trait in his own right. If only he didn't have to be so.. him.

Doflamingo chuckled his way into the large accommodating off. That signature grin plastured on his face as he slipped through the large oak doors and slammed them shut just by holding out his hand. "Crocodile, you are a very hard man to get ahold of." Doflamingo's voice was loud and filled the entire room with his noise. Crocodile's headache only grew stronger.

"To what do I owe the displeasure of this little visit, Doflamingo? I already told you I am not interested in 'teaming up with you.' You are too reckless, and I can't find a good reason why I should." Crocodile's voice carried the heavy weight of his day as his deep rasp conveyed. He took another long puff of his cigar as he awaited what possible reason the pink menace could be here for. "If that was what you came here for, it could have waited for the next warlord meeting, or did you just want a change of scenery where I tell you to 'go to hell'?" A small chuckle released with the puff of smoke that was being used to cover up the strong scent of Doflamingo's expensive cologne.

Doflamingo's sadistic grin only widened. Within mere moments, he had made his way to behind Crocodile. His chuckle echoed off the wani tanks and flooded the room quickly. "Crocy-baby, you wound me. You know I can take more than that half assed insult. It's like you don't care anymore.~"

And just like that, Doflamingo's grin faded to a frown, and he stood up straight. It was as if a switch was flipped in this wild card of a man. He was every bit of his ten feet as he stepped to the side of Crocodile's chair. Doflamingo crossed his arms as he leaned against the desk so he could face Crocodile. His voice no longer holding his joyful cadence. "Alabasta will fall, Crocodile. You have too many cards stacked against you, and you can no longer see the top."

The pink warlord leans down to invade Crocodile's space and was now face to face with him. With his grin forming again, his long obscene tongue licked his lips like a hungry cannibal. "Don't worry though.. Because when that happens and you fall.. I will catch you.~" Despite his eyes being hidden behind opaque shades, the sexual desire was palpable enough to sense.

Crocodile didn't think it would be possible to portray the disgust and irritation he was feeling. Instead, he settled for puffing his cigar like he was a locomotive. Any bit of nicotine to take this edge off would have been welcomed. The only thing keeping him from having an all-out brawl with this pink idiot was the fact that he didn't want to cause anything to jeopardize his hard work and planning. Though the fantasy of reading in the paper that Doflamingo was found dead did cause an involuntary smile to creep across his face.

"Sand cannot be caught nor contained. It slips through the cracks just as I will forever slip through your fingers. You will never be able to keep me. I would rather drown in the deepest darkest ocean then ever team up with you. Being in the same room with you for this long should be its own level of hell." Crocodile ashed his cigar. He stared at the whiskey glass on the table that was accruing condensation. He felt so thirsty at that moment.

That roaring laughter began to build slowly until Doflamingo had to throw his head back to let it out. As he let it all out in one breath, his head jerked back towards Crocodile as it silenced immediately. "Fuck, if you only knew what you fucking do to me!" He cocked his head to the side, popping his neck and held up his hand. The unseen strings clung to Crocodiles chair and pulled him quickly in front of Doflamingo. With how tall Doffy was, his crotch was not too far off from where he thought it needed to be. "Wani~ Drowning you would be a waste. I have other ways of making you a leaking mess.~"

With a flick of his wrist, he pushed the chair back with his strings with an almost disgusted look on his face. That faded quickly before he spoke again. "Keep trying my patience, little slut, but I always get what I want. Even if I have to attach a string to every goddamn grain of sand and lock you away in a sea prism tower..." He paused as his venom filled words drew from his lips.

Doflamingo's tone changed once again to one that was almost jovial. "Oh, I almost forgot, it's your country's anniversary, so I decided to get you a little something. You know me.. always the romantic.~"

Sexual... to upset.. to kind... impossible to read what this pink feathered man is thinking. Crocodile stays silent as he ponders how this could have come to be that this other warlord is so obsessed with him. To his memory, he had barely introduced himself.

Doflamingo reached into his poofy pink coat and pulled out a small box. He tossed it onto Crocodile's desk as he began to walk out of his office. He lifted his hand in the air to wave him off as he exited. "Teaming up with me is more than what you could ever imagine. Let me know when you are ready to be a God.~"

Crocodile eyed the box and didn't even consider opening it until he knew for a fact that annoying bird was gone. His hook scooped the box closer and he opened it. A thin powder that resembled the dance powder. Along with it was a formula that looked to be modifying it in a way. "Impressive." The warlord was pleased to see such higher quality and nearly began to think of a way to thank Doflamingo until he flipped the formula over.

His blood boiled as the scar on his face tinted crimson. He was disgusted, repulsed, and.. is it that big?! The stupid pink menace had put the formula on the back of an image of him in nothing but his pink feather coat and holding his cock. Crocodile stabbed his hook right through that image. Grabbing his whiskey glass and downing it before shattering it in bare hand. "What a freak!"

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

[anystalker707]

A little reminder

Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x [male, amab] Reader Words: ~ 3 200 Summary: Do you need a reminder about who you belong to? Ace is glad to help. Tags: Jealous Ace / Rough / Oral / Chest fixation / Bruises

Requested by anon [Ace and male reader (rough and possessive smut please) Ace gets jealous of someone near Y/n and decides to take him away and show him that Y/n’s his and his alone.]

MASTERLIST

          “And that’s how we got the ship.” Usopp grinned as he crossed his arms and leaned back against the mast. “We are a very skilled crew, but we wouldn’t make it if it weren’t for me!” He laughed, a hand on his hip and the other pointing to himself. “The great—”

“Would you like a drink, (y/n)-san?” Sanji stepped in front of you out of sudden, hence you needed to blink a couple of times until you focused on the glasses on the tray in front of you, not even noticing how Usopp complained at Sanji for stealing the spotlight. “It’s a warm day! You gotta keep yourself hydrated! I bet you and Ace don’t even have the time to settle down properly since you’re always rushing around! Both of you need to make sure you eat properly!”

“Thanks!” You grinned, taking one of the cold glasses in hand. “And don’t worry, Sanji! We make sure to eat enough! And you can bet that Ace and I will eat a lot of your food while we are here!” You winked at him and took a sip of the drink, humming at the fruity, sweet taste of the drink. “This is so great, Sanji! I missed your food, to be honest! It’s been a long while since we met in Alabasta, isn’t it!”

Two years ago, Ace told you his brother had been heading to the same place as the two of you3, which made you excited to meet him. Turns out you met not just Luffy, but all of the Straw Hats and the adventure across the desert of Alabasta was interesting, despite you and Ace finding out you’d followed false tips.

Later, the two of you met again in The War of The Best, but the rest of the crew wasn’t there, so it was nice to be there now with all of them once again. The weather was warm and the sky had a few clouds on it so the sun wasn’t unbearable, hence you dismissed the use of a shirt just like Ace, and also making it the perfect weather to hang out on Sunny’s deck with the Straw Hats. Ace was off with Zoro and Luffy while Sanji, Nami, Chopper and Brook had your attention at the moment.

Sanji grinned, letting Chopper and Nami take the drinks that remained on the tray before he tucked it under his arm. “It indeed is! And don’t worry, I will make sure to prepare a delicious dinner tonight! Also, don’t forget to let me know when you are leaving so I can pack you some meals, okay?”

“Really?” You gasped as you looked at him then grinned more with a nod. “That’s very sweet!”

Sanji’s eyes lightened up. “No worries! It’s a pleasure to—”

“Sorry to interrupt!” Ace’s voice cut him off and you looked up to see him behind you, resting his hands on your shoulders. “I might have to steal (y/n) away for a while! I gotta discuss a few things with my pretty boyfriend!” He laughed and, despite the way the others reacted—Nami and Chopper finding it adorable while Sanji raised his eyebrows a little—, you could notice the forced tinge in Ace’s chuckle and the urgency as he made you stand up. Ace still had that weird expression on his face as he guided you off to the side of the ship until he just pulled you inside a random room with him.

“Ace?” You sighed with a frown. “What’s all of this about, love? I—”

“(Y/n)...” He exhaled sharply and looked away, but you just rolled your eyes and kept sipping on your drink.

“Storage room?” You raised an eyebrow and sipped on your drink again, looking around. There were only wooden boxes, spare wood, barrels, shelves—

Ace had his hands on his hips, blinking slowly as he looked at you with that smirk that didn’t extend itself to his bored eyes. A scoff escaped his lips as he shook his head and took the drink away from your hand, putting it on a shelf before he could step closer.

“Y’know, I wonder if I’m not imposing enough or something.” He placed his hands on your hips, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. “They keep treating you like that. Mainly Sanji. Don’t they know you’re mine?” He clicked his tongue, gently pushing you to take steps back until you could feel the cold wood of the wall meet your back.

“You know it’s not like that, Ace...” You whispered, trying to make some sort of comforting tone as you placed your hands on his freckled shoulders; his skin was warm from standing in the sun. “We are great friends, and it’s been a long while since we saw them!”

Ace raises an eyebrow, twisting his mouth. “Yeah, yeah. Know who else were great friends? Mhm, that’s right! You and I!”

You scoffed, chuckling. “It’s not like that and you know it!”

A scowl was on Ace’s face as he looked at you, dark eyes and low eyebrows. He decided against arguing and pressed his lips firmly to yours instead, not caring if your teeth grazed together or if you struggled to keep up with the rhythm he imposed, sinking your nails into his shoulders at the surprise, because all that mattered was the fact he was touching you right now.

The kiss left you breathless, panting for air as he started to mouth at your neck, nibbling and pressing close in a way you struggled to keep the gasps from escaping from your lips since the touches came one after the other, with a little more pressure than needed. His teeth tugged on your skin harsher than usual, but the sharp, short spurts of pain did have sparkles going through your body. Your breath grew heavier as even your mind struggled a little to keep up with what was going on—and what would go on, as well.

“A—Ace!” You gulped, feeling fingers tugging on the waistband of your shorts. “We can’t! We are in someone else’s ship and we—”

“It doesn’t matter!” His whispers were a little louder than yours. “Don’t you understand that I need you? That you belong to me?” His lips pressed to yours once again, messily.

You kissed back for a second, but then pressed a hand to his shoulder. “You know that’s not what I meant! I—”

Ace’s face twisted bitterly before he kissed you again, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and biting hard enough to make you wonder if your mouth was bleeding when he let go to continue his way down your neck. His teeth tugged on your skin in between soft sucks that only didn’t leave many marks behind because he didn’t have the patience to continue on the same spot for too long.

You relaxed a little under his touches once you started to get used to the intensity of everything, though it’s not much; Ace’s big palms spread over your waist to massage the skin softly as he keeps pressing you to the wall don’t really do anything to help with how uncomfortable your shorts started to feel. The zipper was painful against your cock, making you hiss a little, only to moan when his thigh pressed to your crotch instead; it had a quiet moan escaping your lips as you squeezed his shoulders. It was hard to resist it now.

“Ace...” You whispered, trying to figure out a way to ask for more without clearly doing it; why would you admit to giving on to Ace’s wishes? A gasp escaped your lips with how he pressed closer, his lips low going lower to leave nibbles and kisses on your pec and risking going around your nipple. His name escaped your lips among poorly suppressed moans as you pressed a hand to the back of his neck to pull him closer, which of course made him keep going—you gasped, covering your mouth with a hand to stop a damn moan because of the way his teeth sunk just right around your nipple.

Ace’s name escaped your lips in a messy moan that didn’t even sound comprehensible while his tongue ran flat against your nipple. Still, those weren’t compared to the way he even made you double over when his teeth sunk into your peck, high on your chest.

“You gonna continue walking around without that shirt of yours,” he mumbled against your chest, but his wide, dark eyes were on yours, “and gonna show everyone who you belong to.”

The idea of it just made you want more, unfortunately, slowly giving in more and more to Ace’s whims and rolling your hips into his thigh in response.

A sigh escaped Ace’s lips as he pulled back, allowing his warmth against your body to be uncomfortably placed with cold air while he started to unbutton your shorts. The bulge in his pants drew your eyes inexplicably easy, making you gulp seeing his shorts seemed about as uncomfortably tight as yours.

The shorts fell to the ground and his lips were on yours again immediately, with slow, open mouthed kisses as his hands slipped into your boxers, rubbing your thighs a little as he slowly pulled your underwear down. You stepped out of it with how the way he held onto your hips made you move until Ace helped you on top of a barrel. You gasped as you looked down between the two of you, seeing your flush cock rest back against your lower stomach, swollen and leaking from how he had been teasing you so far, twitching at the way Ace’s hard cock rubbed against your ass despite still being clothed.

“Don’t you think you still have a little too much clothing on?” You mumbled, resting your back against the wall.

“Are you in a position to ask for anything?” Ace raised an eyebrow. “Giving attention to the others. Did you even know where I was? What I was doing?”

You narrowed your eyes and let out a soft scoff, shaking your head a little. “You’re so...”

The words escaped your grasp, making a smirk stretch across Ace’s face as he hooked his hands under your thighs, bringing them up in a way you were forced into a not quite sitting position anymore, almost slipping if you didn’t hold onto the edges of the barrel and Ace didn’t hold you. His hands were open against your thighs, fingers sinking into them to squeeze the skin for a moment, thumb rubbing circles into your inner thighs.

It was agonizingly good and Ace knew that, holding the strong eye contact as he slowly inched lower, keeping track of the little hitches in your breath while you held yourself back from squirming under his touch. A look of victory took over his face at the moment you let your head rest back against the wall, moaning and pushing into his touch once his hand wrapped around your cock. It wasn’t necessarily good given how dry his hand was, barely moving, but it was already some sort of relief.

You observed Ace through half-lidded eyes, swallowing dryly as you watched him lean forward until warm lips met the inside of your thigh, at first just lingering over them lightly enough to make your skin rise in shivers. It was almost mesmerizing, hence you only came back to reality when Ace’s tongue poked out, warm and wet against the base of your cock.

A gasp escaped your lips, your breath hitching in your throat multiple times with how Ace kept mouthing at the area, letting his tongue poke out now and then; his fingers sank into your thighs to keep them open despite how you threatened to close them around his head.

An embarrassingly high pitched sound came from you when you felt his tongue against your hole. Ace paused before he licked it again with enough spit to trail down your skin. There was certain concentration in Ace’s face as he did it, eyebrows furrowed and eyes sometimes averting up to check on your reaction, especially when you shifted, thighs tensing up under his touch because his tongue started to poke in.

“Ace,” you whispered through a moan, fingers tightening around the edges of the barrel because of how he lapped inside you, keeping you open. Another moan was silenced with a hiss as you tensed up and curled your toes, trying to roll your hips into his mouth out of reflex at the moment he leaned in, trying to reach his tongue deeper and, fuck—

One of your hands flew to Ace’s hair, holding him there, which didn’t really work well given the way he pulled back a little and licked his fingers up. Turns out it wasn’t bad—not at all—, you gasped, feeling your body grow hotter at the feeling of his fingers lining up with your entrance at the same time his mouth pressed to your cock, licking along the underside of it at the same time he pushed his fingers in and curled them up inside.

“Ngh, Ace...” You gasped, struggling to keep the sounds in; you tried to keep yourself quiet by holding your breath whenever a moan threatened to escape your throat, but it just fucking ended up making you out of air and having everything become each time more difficult. “A—Ace—” Maybe it was a little louder than it should this time, your thighs almost closing around his head because of how his fingers curled up and pressed just against the right spot. All of that was dangerous, making you squirm a lot, becoming dangerously close.

The way you clenched around Ace’s fingers only had him pushing his fingers in deeper, making more desperate gasps and babbling pleas spill from your lips at the same time you tugged on his hair. It was so, so close, and you were almost there when Ace just pulled away.

“No...” You whined, feeling the previously crescent pressure in your lower stomach now start to dissipate, much to Ace’s amusement. He only grinned, proudly sporting his face wet with drool as he took a step back and started to undo his belt.

Light throbbing was the only thing that resulted from Ace's strong grip on your thighs, leaving you wanting for more as you quietly watched him finally help himself, lowering his shorts and boxers just a little down his thighs, just enough. Ace spit on his hand before he wrapped his hand around his own cock, giving it a few pumps, mixing the spit with his precum. Just the sight was enough to make your cock twitch in anticipation, leaking as you ached for his touch to return, knuckles going white around the edges of the barrel again.

Ace’s hand sent sparkles through your skin once it pressed to it again, kneading into the fat of your thigh, the other one holding the base of his cock and letting it press gently against your entrance, feeling it flutter. Your breath hitched in anticipation, which easily happened again as you gasped and suppressed moans with how he started to push in, finally.

Your eyes watched Ace disappear inside you, making your breath shaky as you tried to suppress all the sounds that tried to push past your lips; feeling him stretch you out so nice and good, slowly sinking in deeper. He paused once his hips met the back of your thighs in a short pause that allowed you to attempt to regain your breath only to moan at the moment he started to move his hips, moving right away with harsh and heavy thrusts.

“A—Ace,” you couldn’t help but whine, interrupted by a loud moan at the moment he hooked his hands pressed to the underside of your thighs to push your legs back against your torso, allowing him to reach in deeper and just at the right spots. “A—Ace, I need to— The others, they—” You slapped a hand over your mouth, trying to muffle the sounds because of how his cock managed to reach just into the spot that made your thighs quiver, forcing against the grip of his hands in fruitless attempts to press shut.

“I don’t care.” Ace moaned lowly, breath labored as he looked at you from under his lashes, messy black strands gluing to his sweaty forehead. “Why’d I care if they learned that you are mine, hm? Learned how well I can please you?” He scoffed, with that goddamn grin across his face, his fingers sinking into your skin as his hips snapped against yours with more force, making useless the attempts of at least muffling your sounds since you could barely hold your hand to your lips, and Ace didn’t even fucking care about it.

His lips continued stretched in that fucking grin as his hips slammed against yours again and again and, damn it, you were cumming already, all over your torso, hot and sticky as you tried to keep yourself together.

Ace’s eyes met yours with a different gaze this time, in a wordless ‘I hope you know that I’m not ready yet’ as his hips worked more intensely against yours, fucking you through your high and relishing your overstimulation that quickly came with how one of his hands reached forward and squeezed your peck.

“Fuck,” Ace gasped with a pause. He wrapped one of your legs around his own waist, throwing the other over his shoulder before he could squeeze your chest again and go back to moving his hips; they slammed against yours in a messy rhythm at first before finally picking up a pace that made your cock twitch again.

Your whimpers and heavy breathing filled his ears along with the obscene wet sound of skin against skin. Ace let out a moan as he looked down between the two of you, watching his cock disappear inside you repeatedly, leaving a creamy, white line around the base. Damn it. A string of moans escaped his lips as he squeezed your thigh and your chest more; he was fucking coming, pumping cum inside of you as he continued to move his hips and make sure it pushed in deep, coating your insides all over.

Shaky, whiny breaths cut through the thick silence of the room as the two of you slowly came back to reality. Ace pulled away from you, biting his lip as he watched the cum drip out of your hole. Why was it so fucking hot? His hands rubbed your thighs soothingly, pressing kisses to the soft skin as he slowly let your legs down.

“That was good,” Ace mumbled, adjusting his underwear and shorts again. “Want me to clean you?” He licked his lips and grinned, glancing between your legs and at your eyes again with wiggling eyebrows.

“Ace!” Your cheeks burned hotter and you pressed your thighs together, finally, looking away.

Ace laughed. “Right, right.” He bent down, handing you your boxers and your shorts. You struggled to get off the barrel, legs shaking as the ground seemed to twirl under your feet, but you grabbed your clothes and started to put them back on. “Your chest looks kinda nice, may I say.” That damn grin was over his face again, making you flustered and annoyed all at the same time.

“Fuck off, Ace,” you mumbled. How were you even supposed to leave that room given how you were probably too loud and none of you had a shirt? “Damn it, Ace...”

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

[rollinouttahere-writes]

I just thought of a funny scenario. So like this happens with Buggy who was going for Lucky but took Lizard by accident so he gave Lizard to Mihawk and Lizard got into Mihawk's booze (Mihawk had no idea she was 16) and when Crocodile and The Strawhats show up. they see a drunk Lizard who out drank Buggy and Mihawk and is on the phone with Koby shamelessly flirting with him.

I liked this idea, have a drabble

Crocodile didn't know if he should be mad or impressed right now. He's been trying for years to get his daughter back under his care only to be thwarted each and every time, but somehow Buggy of all people managed to bring her back here accidentally.

That clown should be studied, truly.

As joyful as it was to see his girl again, there was a problem that he couldn't ignore.

"How did you not know she was underage? Look at her! She doesn't look close to being an adult!"

"How many children do you know that are in that kind of shape?" Mihawk couldn't be bothered to look up from his newspaper to speak with Crocodile. "Besides, I thought that a glass of wine may calm her down somewhat. At least enough to keep her from trying to murder the clown again."

"A glass? She looks like she's had a bottle at least!" Crocodile gestured over to the teenager who was currently lounging on a couch. Her legs were dangling over the back of it while her head hung off the cushions. Her face was flush from the alcohol in her system and she was so intoxicated that she had yet to realize his presence.

Mihawk's transponder snail was balanced precariously on the back of the couch. She's been enthusiastically speaking into it the whole time he's been here, but he wasn't close enough to be able to make out what was being said.

The question of who was on the other end was a mystery, "Who is she speaking to?"

Mihawk shrugged and sipped at his own wine glass, "A marine. That Koby boy, I believe."

"And you're just letting her?!" Allowing her to call a marine was bad enough on its own, but Koby? What Crocodile wouldn't give to have that kid wiped off the planet. How his daughter became so infatuated with him was beyond his understanding.

"It's keeping her from raising hell in here, so yes."

Crocodile was going to argue further, but then he saw Lizard reaching for the wine bottle sitting on a nearby coffee table to refill her empty glass. He rushed over immediately and snatched the bottle from her hand. It was almost completely drained, much to his horror.

"Hey! I was drinking that!" Her words were slurred and her actions uncoordinated. She struggled to bring herself up to a sitting position, prompting Crocodile to crouch down and gently prop her up lest she fall and hit her head.

"Yes, but you shouldn't have been," he grumbled. This was the first time he's spoken to her in years and his first course of action was to scold her. Excellent move, certainly this couldn't backfire.

Lizard's posture stiffened, then she whirled around with her mouth agape. Ah, so she's finally taken note of him. Crocodile braced himself for a barrage of insults and fury, knowing full well how she felt about him after what he did in Alabasta.

That wasn't what happened.

A grin, the largest one he's seen on her in a while, broke out across her face and she squealed. In an instant she latched onto him. Her arms wrapped around his neck while her legs clung onto his torso. The force of it was enough to make him fall onto his backside. Perhaps Mihawk had a point, she has grown a lot since he'd last seen her.

"Daddy! I haven't seen you in forever! I missed you soooo muuuuch!"

She continued to ramble on happily, but Crocodile wasn't hearing any of it. She... missed him. His daughter was so happy to see him that she felt the need to tackle him to the ground and call him a name she hasn't used since she was much younger.

Who knows how long this spell will last for? Gingerly, Crocodile returns her hug, squeezing her against him while hoping no one could see how misty his eyes were getting.

"I missed you, too. More than you can imagine."

[cigarcloud]

Card Shark (18+ Minors DNI)

Word Count: 4000 Ao3 Link Summary: You had never been to a casino before, but you missed playing card games as a kid. Unfortunately (or luckily) for you, you catch the casino owner's attention when your luck runs too high for his tastes. Author’s Note: My first ever reader fic and my first ever smut. I've been addicted to reading One Piece reader fics lately, especially @turtletaubwrites and @discordantwritings, so shout out to them! Content: AFAB!Reader, Fem!Reader, Daddy Kink, Praise Kink, Spanking, Vaginal Fingering, Rough Oral Sex

It could have been the bright, flashing lights and the rolling tick of slot machines with what appeared to be living corpses sat in front of them. Or maybe it was the crowd. The uncomfortable press of strangers moving against strangers, everyone in someone’s way. The harsh clink of glass against glass, the scrape of chairs continuously vacated and filled. You couldn’t pin point exactly which, if any of these, were what overwhelmed you most as you stepped into the casino.

You had never been to a casino before, and to be honest you didn’t know what to expect. Despite living so close to one for a while now it had simply never crossed your mind before. But, you were bored. Life was a monotonous routine. It was one you usually enjoyed, but even creatures of habit needed enrichment every now and then. A memory flitted across your mind, visions of playing card games as a kid. You didn’t know much about casinos, but you knew there were card games. It seemed a good enough reason to finally visit the famous Rain Dinners.

You made your way to a table where people were playing Blackjack, and waited for the game to be over. The dealer glanced your way and shot you a toothy grin.

“First time here?” He asked, and his grin stretched when you nodded. “You’ll need some chips. Anywhere from 100 to 1000 berry per round at this table.” You smiled gratefully for the instruction and took out 500 berry, figuring a few rounds were all you needed to satiate your sudden nostalgic appetite.

It took a bit to get comfortable, but by the third round you felt in the zone. The familiar wave of focus pulled you under as you watched every card, that ability to take it all in and turn it into probability always came to you naturally, and led to you winning damn near every game you played as a kid. The sensory edge the casino has been pressing against you dulled as you honed in, your nerves eased as you settled in to an old routine.

After your first five rounds finished you looked down and realized you had double the chips sitting in front of you. You decided to play a bit riskier for the next few, until you had around ten times your original amount of chips. You lost yourself in the cards again, oblivious to anything around you, effortlessly resetting your numbers when a new deck was brought in. Nothing else was registering to you, until you felt the weight of a massive hand that almost covered both of your shoulders settle on your back. You felt yourself startle, skin shifting against the touch.You turned and found yourself staring into a familiar face.

You may be new to casinos, but you weren’t new to Alabasta. This was Sir Crocodile, pirate warlord and keeper of the peace. You knew he was a big man in the figurative sense, but the physical reality lived up to every modern day fable being whispered in the streets. He towered above you, above everyone in the place, seated or standing. The scar that bisected his face did nothing to diminish his looks, it might have enhanced them further. His slicked back hair was meticulous, his eyes a piercing gray. Those eyes felt as though they were cutting you to ribbons more effectively than his massive golden hook ever could. You smiled up at him quickly, confused and a bit unnerved by his presence.

“Having good luck tonight, aren’t we little lady?” He said around his cigar. You’re pretty sure he’s had a cigar in his mouth in every single picture you’ve seen of him. “Seem to be winning quite a bit.” You smiled a more relaxed smile this time, nodding.

“Yes she is Sir, and getting luckier as the night goes on.” Crocodile’s face twitched ever so slightly hearing about your consistent stream of luck in his casino.

“That so?” He asked, his gravelly voice shooting straight down your spine. Your nerves were ratcheting up again, as the Warlord seemed to be growing tense. You swallowed thickly, waiting for him to speak. “Well, it seems I’ll have to talk to management about hiring dealers who know a card counter when she’s right in front of them.” Your face flushed, not knowing what he meant but getting the clear impression that you were doing something wrong.

“Sorry, Sir!” The dealer responded, much more alert to the precarious mood of his boss. “It won’t happen again, Sir!” Crocodile chuckled, before he took a deep drag of his cigar. You felt your eyes track the movement before you forced them back to a more neutral position. Now was not the time to be taken in by a handsome face.

“No, it certainly won’t. Get out of here.” He spoke to the dealer, but his gaze burned into you.

“Now.” He spoke again, finally breaking his eyes away to shoot the dealer a look of absolute venom. You felt just a bit more relaxed now, knowing that he didn’t look at you with nearly that level of contempt. The feeling was fleeting though, as his gaze drifted back. He certainly didn’t look at you like that, no. How he looked at you was far worse.

He looked starving .

After a few tortuously long moments of silence you decided to speak up.

“I can stop playing if I need to, but I don’t know what you mean by counting the cards? Like adding up the numbers? How else would you play?” That earned a bark of laughter from the man towering behind you, and a more genuine smile graced his features.

“Well, then. Seems you don’t even know what you’re doing.” You huffed at the idea that a simple game like this was above you, but you didn’t dare interrupt. “In any case, might want to go exchange these for berry.” He nodded at your chips. “Quite the winnings for a first timer.” You looked down at the chips in surprise.

“I get to exchange these back?” Another laugh erupted from his throat, and you felt the massive hand squeeze you lightly.

“Oh sweetheart, how’d a girl like you end up here?” He asked, taking a drag of his cigar. He gestured for you to stand and led you to a counter, his hand on the small of your back.

While it was certainly embarrassing to be asked to stop playing and clearly shown to not know anything about how casinos function, it might have been worth it for the warmth of the hand that seeped into your body. Sir Crocodile was certainly attractive, and his attention, now that it seemed wholly positive, felt nice to have.

“So, sweetheart,” He said, and you felt yourself flush at the endearment he once again used. “What’s your name?”

You grabbed the berry the worker behind the counter handed you and peered up at Crocodile. “Y/N.” You responded, hoping your voice wasn’t too quiet for him to hear with the wave of nervous excitement that passed over you.

“Hmm.” He hummed. “Well Miss Y/N, I am Sir Crocodile. A pleasure to meet you.” He grabbed your hand and bent down to put it to his lips, looking straight at you. You gave a nervous laugh at both the gesture and the entirely unnecessary introduction.

“I’ve heard a lot about you.” You replied. As he raised to his full height again, he flashed you a grin that had you recalling childhood tales of big bad wolves.

“That so? Well, I’d love to hear more about you, and that funny little talent you have. I happen to find myself unusually free this evening. Join me for a drink?” He asked.

Well, saying no to a warlord didn’t seem like the smartest idea, and besides, there was no harm in a drink. You nodded and let him guide you, relieved that he seemed content to let the conversation wait while the two of you walked. Your mind was racing and you had to admit to yourself that your body wasn’t in any better of a state.

You startled when you returned to yourself and realized the noise of the casino was much quieter. You were leaving the floor, entering an empty hallway and walking decidedly far away from the bar. You felt a flightiness settle around the edges of your mind. You were so focused on the attention of a good looking man that you forgot he was a killer. A government supported killer at that. Also, the owner of the casino you seemed to have done something offensive in. You swallowed thickly and paused, but Crocodile’s firm hand pushed you forward, causing you to stumble just a bit.

“Something the matter, doll?” His words were ice water over you, but despite the situation heat simultaneously rose to your cheeks and dropped to pool between your thighs.

“I, uh- just realized we aren’t going to the bar.” You replied, and you held no illusion that your nerves didn’t shine through every detail of your face. This earned another laugh and a squeeze, although this time much lower than your shoulder. His hand was just high enough to say he was not cupping your ass, but it was a near thing. He might as well have been, for the effect it had on you.

“Distracted are we?” His raspy voice sen t a shock through your spine, and your thoughts were starting to get completely out of control. The voice in your mind telling you this is dangerous was getting quieter and quieter by the second. “Such a gorgeous girl deserves my full attention. I’m taking you to a private room for our drink .” The way he said it seemed to imply so much, and you were left numbly following him to wherever he decided to take you. You didn’t think your voice would have worked, even if your mind could have come up with a response.

After another minute of walking in silence the two of you stopped at an elevator with gleaming gold doors, an intricate pattern engraved on them. Somewhere in your mind you found space to wonder why even the elevators had to scream his wealth and power. He pressed the button to go up and gently guided you in once the doors opened.

You felt completely suffocated in the small space, and completely unsure of how to stand, or what to do with your hands, or if you should try and make conversation. You risked a glance up and find the man was true to his word, his attention was entirely on you.

“Uh… so… what do you like to drink?” You ask ed , your voice barely a squeak. You stare d straight ahead, unable to meet that intense gaze for another second. God this ride is taking forever .

“I prefer whiskey myself.” He responded, and his voice was so taunting as he said it. “And what does my little card shark like?” He asked, as the elevator came to a stop and the stupid golden doors mercifully opened.

“Um, ciders, usually.” Not that you drank much at all, a fact that you were sure he picked up on. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d managed to know everything about you from the few words you spoke.

“Here we are.” He said, showing you to a lavish room with a plush couch, a bar in the back, and a massive desk set before a wall made entirely of glass. The entirety of the room was lined with bookshelves, and you caught a few titles about the history of Alabasta that looked interesting. You could see the skyline through the glass. You wondered if you could pick out your neighborhood, but he startled you out of your dissection of the space before you could truly try. He gently grabbed your hand, and took you to the couch.

“Is this your office?” You wondered aloud. He nodded in response, before leaving you to go behind the bar. There was the opening of a door and the sound of clinking as he collected glasses from a cabinet. He poured whiskey into both and brought them over, while you tried not to stare too openly at his massive hand that made the two glasses in it look like children’s toys.

I’d need prepped to even take a finger .

“Afraid I don’t carry fruit juice in my office.” He teased as he handed you your glass. You accepted it with a smile, but didn’t move further. His gaze sharpened a bit as he raised his drink. “Go ahead Y/N, I’m sure you can handle it.” You felt your stomach flip at the sound of your name leaving his lips, and the innuendo that might have been entirely in your mind, and you were certain you couldn’t handle any of this.

“Thank you.” You murmured, bringing the glass to your lips and taking a sip. It burned going down, but you weren’t so unaccustomed to liquor that you coughed. You licked your bottom lip to clear it of a stray droplet, and watched as Crocodile’s silver eyes followed the movement.

“Gorgeous.” He sighed, as his hand moved to your hip. “So, what’s a little doll like you doing bleeding me dry?” He asked, his thumb drawing circles on the fabric of the skirt you wore.

   "Uh, sorry Sir." You managed to get out, albeit breathless. "I just missed playing as a kid, that's all really."

   “And how did you get so good playing toddlers?” Crocodile replied, curiosity in his eyes. You wanted to look away, feeling every bit as overwhelmed by him as the entire casino downstairs, but you were trapped.

   “I don’t know. It’s just an easy game?” He took another drag of his cigar. “I just keep track of all the cards that get played, and after a few rounds its easy to guess if you should hit or not.”

   “Mmm, little card shark. Not supposed to do that in casinos.”

   “Wouldn’t that make it hard to win?” You questioned and he chuckled, blowing out more smoke.

   “That’s the point, sweetheart. Casino only works if the house is winning.” You took another sip of your drink, with the hope that it would help you relax. It didn’t, but Crocodile seemed to enjoy watching you. “Poor thing, probably felt so embarrassed at that table. Didn’t even know what you were doing.” His hand moved up to the hem of your shirt, and you were sure that if you could get any more red you did. His voice was so condescending, but it was going straight between your thighs.

   “I, uh-” You were cut off by him pushing your shirt up, his fingertips resting just underneath your breast. “Oh!” You squeaked, jumping a bit. Unfortunately that movement was enough to get his fingertips decidedly on your breast. He brought his hook over and you felt yourself stiffen as it caught your shirt collar.

   "Such a good little mouse, you look so pretty when you freeze.” You couldn’t help the sharp intake of breath, and you barely managed to keep it from escaping as a moan. “Let’s see how you look without this, hmm Y/N?” He didn’t wait for a response, tearing your shirt off in one fluid motion. You gasped and moved to cover your breasts, but he caught both of your wrists with ease in his right hand. He pulled them up over your head, admiring the view. “Now, now… be a good girl for me Y/N.” He said sternly. You wriggled a bit, trying to free yourself, but in the privacy of your mind you knew you didn’t want to go anywhere.

   “Let me see how you really feel about this.” Crocodile said, and brought his hook to your skirt. Once it was torn away, nothing stood between his gaze and your soaked panties. He smiled that sharp, animalistic smile at you, and this time you couldn’t bite back a whimper. “Mm, seems you like my attention. So stop squirming.” His voice took a hard edge to it and you went still. “Good girl.” You were getting wetter by the second, and the building fear that sent fire dancing over your nerves was only increasing your arousal.

   “Uh… Crocodile-” The hook went straight to your throat, the point turned away so as not to hurt you, yet.

   “Sir or Daddy. Take your pick.” You moaned at that, and the feeling of the cold steel against you.

   Something is seriously wrong with me.

   “Yes, Sir.” You said quietly, and he hummed his approval, taking the hook away and leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “Can I please have my hands back, Sir?” You asked, looking through your lashes up at him.

   “You are asking so nicely. Promise to be good?” He tone was deceptively gentle now, and you nodded. He raised a brow before you realized what he wanted.

   “Yes, Sir.” He released your wrists and cupped your chin instead, pulling you into a kiss. You felt suffocated in a somehow pleasant way, and when he silently asked for entrance into your mouth you gave it to him.

   As he explored your mouth with his teeth and tongue, his hand released your jaw, lowering to your thighs. You moaned as he ran his fingers over your slick-coated underwear, your legs parting of their own accord.

   “Good girl.” He murmured into your mouth. He moved your underwear to the side, a giant finger teasing along your entrance. You gasped as he gently pushed in, breaking away from the kiss with a string of saliva still connecting you.

   “Fuck…” You bucked your hips forward, taking the rest of his finger inside. It was stretching you out with a slight burn, and you had to wonder what the night had in store for you if just one finger could do this. You let your head fall back as he pumped it in and out of you, his thumb coming up to circle your clit.

   He curled his finger a bit, and you were seeing stars. His thumb kept rubbing up against your swollen nub, and you could feel the waves of pleasure building, ready to crash.

   “Mmmm, please!” You cried out. He pistoned his finger faster, watching you come completely undone against him. Your breath grew ragged and slower as you came down from your orgasm, looking up into his heavily hooded eyes.

   “Did you like that?” He asked, his voice was gravel across your skin, and you whimpered. “Use your words, sweet girl.”

   “Yes, Cro-” You yelped as you were bent over his knee in one fluid motion, the air knocked out of your lungs with a harsh gasp. A hand rested over your ass, only a thin layer of fabric covering you. That was quickly removed, your underwear now shoved down past your thighs.

   “I believe I already told you, Sir or Daddy.” A swat landed on your ass and you gasped. His giant hand covered you entirely, even your thighs stung a bit. “You gonna be a good girl for me?”

   “Yes, Daddy.” You moaned, cursing yourself for such a slip up as his hand picked up a steady rhythm. Soon your ass was raw and scorching under his touch, and tears pricked at the corner of your eyes. “Sorry Daddy.” You choked out, and at last his hand paused in its movements.

   “It’s okay, sweet girl. Daddy knows you didn’t mean it.” You couldn’t help the whine that escaped your lips, followed by a new flush of embarrassment over your chest. “Took your punishment so well, you deserve a treat.” The sweet, low rasp of his voice put you in a daze as he maneuvered you like you weighed nothing. You found yourself on your stomach, face to face with his belt buckle.

   “Fuck, Daddy.” Your voice came out as a thin whisper as you took in the tent in his pants. Like everything else about him, it was larger than you were used to. “S’too big.” You whined, looking up at him through your lashes.

   “Won’t know until you try, will you sweetheart?” He emphasized this with a tug at his belt buckle, looking at you expectantly. “Don’t want to disappoint me, do you?” His hook crept back up to your neck, applying a gentle pressure.

   “No, Daddy.” You couldn’t believe all it took was a finger for you to forget who you were in the presence of. You most certainly did not want to disappoint this man, or become boring to him. Boring cheaters probably received a much worse fate than interesting ones. You intended to remain interesting.

   You unbuckled his belt and tugged at his zipper, moving his pants just enough for his cock to spring free.

   The pants had been hiding a lot . It wasn’t big, it was absolutely massive . You swallowed thickly, before moving your mouth over the tip. You took the base in your hand, another wave of fear-excitement-arousal coursed through you when you realized you couldn’t circle your fingertips. You took a breath before letting your tongue fall out, licking across the tip.

   It tasted like salt and musk, and you needed more. You relaxed your jaw as much as you could and slowly worked your way down. The tip wasn’t too difficult, but you only made it about two inches down the shaft before the girth started giving you trouble.

   “Pretty girl, I’m not known for being patient.” His voice startled you, and you jolted forward. His cock hit the back of your throat, and you were barely halfway down. You forced yourself to stay put as you caught your breath, then started moving up and down.

   The weight against your tongue was addicting, and you closed your eyes as you began to suck in earnest, swirling your tongue around to catch the tip every time you pulled back. Slowly as you bobbed your head you began to take more of his length.

   “Good job.” He groaned, and the praise shot through you as adrenaline. “Keep your mouth open, Daddy wants to use you properly.” You groaned at that, doing your best to keep your jaw relaxed and your breath steady. He grabbed the back of your head and began fucking into your mouth, letting himself bottom out.

   Tears gathered in the corner of your eyes and you could feel bile rising as his groin pressed against your face. You desperately swallowed against it, breathing harshly through your nose. He didn’t relent for a second, using your throat just as he promised. He was brutal, and it contrasted deliciously with the sweet words spilling from his lips like honey.

   “Such a good girl for me, so sweet. Perfect little angel, gonna keep you forever.” Your eyes rolled back in your head as he thrust even more sharply. He lasted only a few more before he was spilling cum so deep in your throat you didn’t have the chance to taste it.

   He pulled you off, and you somehow found it within yourself to still feel embarrassed when a wet pop accompanied the motion. Your jaw ached, your ass was sore, and you knew it would only be worse tomorrow. Still, you felt alive.

   “Well, sweetheart. Now comes business.” You blinked up at him slowly, your brain sluggish and body tired. “Gonna have to ban you from my casino, card shark.” He chuckled, wiping saliva from your chin.

   “Wha- then what was this?” You asked, voice pitching up as you realized he wasn’t letting your entirely accidental cheating go.

   “You getting bratty with me?” His voice dropped an octave and you felt his hand inching towards your already abused backside.

   “No!” You yelped quickly. He raised an eyebrow at you for a long moment before you realized your mistake. “No, Daddy.” You amended. His hand abandoned it’s journey to your ass and instead ran along your side.

   “Good. This was just the consequence of being such a pretty thing in my presence. You still have to make amends for cheating me out of berry.” Your eyes widened, and you were barely able to stop the protest that wanted to make its way out of you. “Oh, don’t look so scared little mouse.” He grinned wide, not helping your fear at all. “How about you make it up to me by letting me take you to dinner.”

   “Dinner?” You asked, completely lost now. “Like a date?” He laughed, giving your side a squeeze.

   “Sure, sweetheart. A date.” You gave him a tentative smile in return and nodded.

   “Uh, yeah! I mean- yes, Sir.” Your mind was now working into overdrive, trying to understand the situation you found yourself in. “Do I have to call you that in public or?” You trailed off, and his predatory grin was back in full force.

   “You can try and find out.”

   You weren’t sure whether you wanted it to be a threat or a promise. One thing you knew is you wouldn’t be bored any time soon.

[yujo-nishimura]

The Escape - Part 30

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - Part 16 - Part 17 - Part 18 - Part 19 - Part 20 - Part 21 - Part 22 - Part 23 - Part 24 - Part 25 - Part 26 - Part 27 - Part 28 - Part 29

Comment: I am sorry that this is so endless and I thank you all for keeping up with it. I think this might go until Chapter 45~50. Hope you all enjoy the little twist in the story as well.

It seemed like an eternity until Crocodile finally came back. Your thirst was slowly driving you mad and your thoughts started to circulate around water and Buggys concern. You could hear your captors steps approaching, he took his time, knowing he was in charge of whatever would happen next. “Willing to talk now?”, you can see his dark smile on your right, he is holding a glass of water in his hand and you are willing to do anything just for a sip of it. He realizes your begging eyes, seeming to bathe in your desire. Slowly he removes the gag and you gasp, carefully moving your mouth muscles which have become so painfully stiff being forced in the same position. Crocodile smiles even wider as he sets the glass to your lips, seeing you drink in wild desire. 

“There, there…” he gently whispers, his voice making you feel uncomfortable to your inner core. “Where is Buggy? Why did you bring me here?”

Crocodile laughs, taking the glass aside and adjusting his fur coat while still standing over you, his shadow casting on your face. “I told you already - Buggy is fine. More than fine with all the money I paid him to obtain you. And you should know why I brought you here. I have two simple reasons - one is your value and the other is you being the perfect trap for the damn straw hat…!” You have a hard time following him, also not believing the thing he says about Buggy. “You are telling me Buggy sold me. But I don't believe that. He is my captain and he knows I am loyal to him…” “That is what you want to believe…”, Crocodile snarls, taking another deep breath from his cigar, puffing the smoke into your face, causing you to cough.  “But your captain allowed us on board and also gave us the permission to take you with us. You will join me in Alabasta, building up a little syndicate there and becoming an influential advisor to the king…”  He finds the horror and disbelief in your eyes amusing and laughs even more.  “Y/n, I know about your charm and your persuasion skills. I know what happened in Windmill village and how you successfully lead these young revolutionaries to overthrow the city council there. And killing the tax collector…”, he bends over you again, his hook carefully touching your bangs, you shudder. “You are a dangerous and ambitious woman. I need you to join me when I take over Alabasta…” 

“So this was your plan? To abduct me from the Buggy pirates to take me with you to Alabasta and then overthrow the king there? Why would you think I would join a low pirate like you?”,  you try to sound threatening but you realize that your voice is shaking. 

“Well, what other choice do you have? Waiting for Buggy? He won't come. Waiting for the Straw hat? Even if he comes to rescue you, then I will finally take my revenge on him. Whatever you decide, I will win since you already have lost!” 

“Buggy will come for me!”, you scream, lifting your body against the shuckles. You see a dangerous glimmer in Crocodiles eyes as he smiles at you: “Your captain will never ever come for you again. But don't worry, I can be your new lover…!”, he tries to touch your face with his left hand and you quickly move your head to bite him with full power. “Ahhh!”, he yells in agony and gives you a strong plow with the hook on his other hand. For a moment you see stars, the pain rushing through your head to your face, mixing in your mouth with the taste of blood. He immediately gags you again, stepping back into the dark. 

“You will eventually follow me, you weak little brat…!”, you can hear him laugh as he leaves the room leaving you alone with your agony. 

Hours feel like days and the darkness feels endless on you and your hurting face. The glass of water has only brought you a temporary relief and you soon feel thirsty again as well as hungry. How many hours have you been here? How many of these hours have you been unconscious? And where was Buggy? Why would he sell you to one of the warlords of the sea? Or was it true and he had planned to do this all along? The longer you lay here the more the thoughts are gnawing on you and you start to doubt every single of your actions until now. You think of Luffy and where he might be at this point. Probably also somewhere on the Grand Line, being carefree and hoping you were well. As the hours turn into a slimy thick package you again and again drift into a shallow sleep, having nightmares of Buggy abandoning you and Crocodile taking you to Alabasta. 

On another time of these endless naps when you wake up and feel thirst and pain all over your body Crocodile is coming back into the room, without further ado he untags you and opens the shackles on your hand and feet. Too weak to stand up he just offers you half of a glass of water, when holding it to your mouth you have a hard time swallowing being gagged for such a long time. You are in complete shock and unable to defend yourself as he swiftly lifts you up, taking you in his hands and outside of the room. Bright daylight blinds you as you are suddenly on deck of a ship, haven't seen the sun for hours or days and you feel like the sunshine is burning your eyes. “Look, Y/n. Your new home…” you can hear the excitement in Crocodile's voice and you tiredly let your head roll to the side, slowly opening your eyes, giving them time to get used to the sun again. You can see a sandy stretch of a long island in front of you, the yellow desert in stark contrast to the blue bright sky above. 

“Alabasta.”, you utter faintly and still hope that all this is just a nightmare to wake up from. 

[pure-garbage]

Bubbles And Iron! A Watery Race Against Time!

Chapter warnings: Violence, drowning

"Fight me, Roronoa!" Tashigi yelled, charging forward.

"Not a chance!"

Lana couldn't believe her eyes. Zoro fled, running from Tashigi as she pursued him.

"Lana! Get those two idiots free so we can get the hell out of here!" Zoro shouted, dashing across the ship to evade Tashigi's attempts to instigate a duel. Meanwhile, Corrin's crew mobilized, organizing under the first mate to avenge their fallen captain.

Lana made her way through the chaos that had erupted on deck, reaching her bound crewmates as Zoro crossed swords with the other pirates and avoided Tashigi like the plague.

"Wake up! Come on, damn it!"

The shackles aboard the Seeker's ship were high grade, designed specifically to give Lana a hard time. She grunted, straining to find the right positions to unlock the shackles.

"Ugh... Lana? What the..."

Nami came to a moment before Lana finally managed to free Sanji's wrists.

"Nami! Great! I'm so glad you woke up," Lana sighed.

"I have so many questions," Nami said, looking around at the mayhem as Lana worked to free her as well.

"My old crew kidnapped us, the marines are here too, and Zoro's refusing to fight some nerd," Lana summarized.

"That just gives me more questions!" Nami protested. "Like... why is Zoro hanging from the mast?"

"What the- Zoro! Quit playing around so we can get out of here!" Lana yelled.

"I'm waiting on you!" Zoro snapped back, swinging overhead as the ship rocked violently. They were taking on water, courtesy of his overzealous execution of Corrin. It was only a matter of time before the whole ship went under.

"Sanji! Wake up!" Nami ordered, slapping him harshly.

"Yes, Nami my love!" Sanji cried, jolting upright in an instant.

"Get it together, Sanji!" Lana snapped. "We need to get out of here and fast!"

"What in the hell is moss-for-brains doing chained to the masthead?!" Sanji demanded. "And whose ship is this? Why are we here? Who's that cutie in the glasses and why does she have Zoro's swords?"

"Agh, too many questions! I don't have time to- wait, say what?"

Lana spun around fast enough to make herself dizzy. Sanji was right. Zoro was even more tangled in chains than before and under heavy assault from the Seeker pirates, swinging like a piñata from the creaking mast. Tashigi clutched all three of his swords, looking on in satisfaction as he struggled to defend himself unarmed against the Seeker crew.

"Tashigi! What the hell are you playing at?!" Lana raged.

"I win, Roronoa!" Tashigi declared triumphantly. "If only you'd have fought me with honor, you could have defeated me!"

"Grr, she's ignoring me again!" Lana fumed.

"Yay, you got me loose!" Nami cheered. "Now let's get-"

Above them, the mast groaned and cracked. Zoro had weakened it earlier, cutting too deep when he sliced through the ropes binding Lana. Now, it fell, towing a shouting Zoro with it as it crashed into the sea.

"Damn it! Zoro!" Lana screamed, watching as he was dragged beneath the waves.

"The hell!"

"Sanji, quick! You have to help him!" Nami cried.

"How?! I can't get those chains off him!" Sanji protested. "Didn't that oaf just learn how to cut through iron in Alabasta?!"

"He hasn't mastered the technique!" Lana said through gritted teeth. "And anyway, that damn marine hag has his swords!"

"So what-"

"I'll go free Zoro! Sanji, you get his swords back!"

"On it!"

Sanji dashed away while Lana stepped out of her boots and tucked her pins into her wristband.

"I'll help you!" Nami declared, pulling herself upright and preparing to dive into the water.

"No, there's nothing you can do down there!" Lana shook her head. "Go keep Sanji on task! You know how distracted he gets around anything with boobs!"

"Ha! You've got a point! Good luck, Lana! Don't let that sourpuss swordsman drown!"

Nami darted off after Sanji and Tashigi while the Seekers rejoiced at the apparent watery death of the man who'd slain their captain.

Lana ignored their cheers, took a deep breath and leapt into the ocean. The water was warm, sunlight streaming through its surface and scattering all around in mottled, dancing rays. Zoro was easy to find, thrashing hard enough to create a foam of tiny white bubbles.

'He's so close to the surface!'

The shallow water and the length of the chain securing Zoro to the mast left him just out of reach of the air above. Still, Lana knew she was racing against the clock. She had to unlock his bindings before he ran out of oxygen.

'Did he even have time to catch a breath before he went under?' Lana wondered.

She kicked her way to the chains around his legs, quickly locating the lock. She glanced up, salt stinging her eyes as she met his gaze. He was struggling against the urge to take a breath, but nodded to the chains.

'Hurry!'

Lana could almost hear his voice. She nodded back and got to work. Above her, Zoro's struggling subsided. He knew she needed him to hold still so she could free him.

Lana grit her teeth, lungs burning as she wrestled with the lock. The water dulled all vibrations, making it harder than ever for her to discern the subtle, crucial clicks of the mechanism.

Zoro's leg jerked uncontrollably. Another glance up filled Lana with panic.

'He's been under longer than me and I'm getting desperate to breathe... Zoro... I need more time!'

Lana pushed up again, swimming behind Zoro and wrapping her arms around his chest. She strained, bubbles escaping from her lips as she kicked with all her might. The surface was so close...

Zoro tapped her arm desperately, motioning frantically to the chains.

'Damn it! It's no use! I can't pull him up! I need to get him air!'

Desperation inspired the lockbreaker. She released Zoro and broke through the surface, gasping for breath. She inhaled deeply, then dove again. Zoro glared at her, silently demanding answers or action.

"Trust me?" Lana mouthed silently.

Zoro grit his teeth but nodded, bubbles streaming up around his face.

"Breathe out."

Zoro's expression demanded to know if she was crazy. Lana pressed her hand to his chest reassuringly.

"Do it," she mouthed.

Zoro hesitated a second longer, then exhaled forcefully, sending bubbles burbling up to the surface. Lana waited for just the right moment, then pressed her lips to his. He tensed in surprise, mouth gaping open reflexively. His shock worked in favor of Lana's plan. She exhaled, pushing her breath into Zoro's body.

'Used air, but it's gotta be better than nothing,' she thought.

Zoro didn't realize what was happening until it was already over. Lana kicked her way back above, dragging in another ragged breath before plunging down again. She dove straight to the lock, pouring all her concentration into forcing it open.

'Come on! Come on! Open, damn you!'

Zoro tapped her shoulder, breaking her focus. She scowled up at him, but the look on his face quelled the irritation she felt at being interrupted. He was hanging onto consciousness by a thread, bloodshot eyes begging for air. Lana bit back her frustration and shot to the surface. It felt amazing to breathe, but Zoro's fingers grasped at her legs, reminding her of the crisis at hand. He pulled her back under just as she caught her breath, clutching her like a dying man as he exhaled and his lips scrambled to find hers.

'I guess he IS drowning,' Lana realized. Still, the desperation with which he sucked the air from her lungs left her feeling light-headed from more than just the lack of oxygen. He pushed her back up and she filled her lungs once more before dipping for what she thought would be the last time. She finally had the hang of interpreting the underwater vibrations of the lock. She would free Zoro and-

Zoro grabbed her arm in passing, pulling her back up to eye-level with him.

"Again!" he gurgled, emptying his lungs and pulling her close. He took her breath greedily. His hands were tight on her arms as she obliged his request, heart pounding as the sensations of his mouth on hers became harder to justify as necessity. The warm water swirling around them was pleasant, the sun's filtered light dancing over their skin with eerie beauty.

'Mm, if we weren't dying, this would actually be really nice,' Lana thought. She broke away from Zoro, surfacing for air again. The deep breath cleared her head.

'I need to focus! I can open the lock!'

Zoro tried to snag her again, but this time she poked him harshly and fixed him with an annoyed glare.

"Let me work!" she mouthed, kicking her way back down to his feet. She turned her attention to the lock, missing Zoro's frown of dejection.

Practice enabled Lana to defeat the lock at long last. It gave a muffled click of defeat and fell away. Lana unwrapped the chains, letting them sink to the sea floor. She and Zoro kicked to the surface in unison, their heads popping up next to a rowboat.

"Lana! Zoro!" Nami cried, leaning over as the pair struggled to catch their breath. "You're okay!"

"Sanji! Nami! How- how much did you see?" Lana managed to gasp.

"We just got here, Lana sweetest," Sanji crooned, helping her into the boat. From the looks of it, they'd taken it from the Seekers by force. Slowly but surely, Corrin's vessel sank in the background. "And look! I got the swords back, just as you requested! Aren't you pleased with me?"

"Good work, Sanji," Lana sighed. She kept one eye on the gradually disappearing ship that had served as her prison for five long, hellish years. Reality began to truly set in for the first time. Corrin was dead. That part of her life was over for good.

'Zoro really did answer all my prayers,' Lana thought with quiet amusement. 'Maybe he should be my new god, after all.'

Zoro reclaimed his swords, too exhausted from the ordeal to even snap as Sanji swooned over Lana's praise. He saved his words for the lockbreaker, staring off into the distance with an indecipherable expression.

"That was quick thinking," he commended her, bringing her back to the moment at hand. They locked eyes, Lana blushing lightly as Zoro seemed to search for something in her gaze. What was it he thought to find? Lana cleared her throat and shrugged off his compliment.

"It was nothing. It's not like I could let you drown after you took care of Corrin for me, right?"

"Right," Zoro agreed, sounding a bit disappointed. "So then, I guess we're already even, huh?"

"I guess so."

"Hm."

Zoro ended the exchange by yawning deeply.

"Row faster, you slow cook," he berated Sanji. "I'm beat. I wanna dry off and take a nap."

"If you want to go faster, you can row the damn boat yourself, you shitty excuse for a swordsman!" Sanji retorted sharply.

"Stow it and row!" Nami snapped.

"Yes of course, Nami, my love!"

___________________________________________

<== Previous Chapter

Next Chapter ==>

== First Chapter ==

[per-oceanum]

@mingos sent. . .

❛ has anyone ever told you you have soft lips? a surprise, considering you're... y'know, sand. ❜

────────

ㅤ⠀Lips parted, the kiss ending, even as his hands remained in place: one gripping that ridiculous pink coat, the other cupping a sharp jawline. Elio liked to think of himself as a man with standards. A man who knew his worth, who would never settle for anything subpar. He still thought of himself in that light- and by no means was he settling in the moment. A small indulgence in a moment of… Need. That's all it was, certainly.

ㅤ⠀[ Even with the subtle tremor in his hands; even as his heart raced within his chest as if he had run a marathon across all of Alabasta. ]

ㅤ⠀❝How is it that you can take something romantic- and twist it to become something to grate upon my ears?❞ He muttered, lips curving into a scowl as his hands retreated. He took a step back- putting distance between them, as if it would allow him to think any clearer. To ignore the feeling of hands gripping, of the odd warmth that had settled between them in that moment that had the tips of his ears turning scarlet, had his mind racing to places it certainly shouldn't. ❝I can be sand, I can be flesh and blood. I have full control over myself and my abilities, Flamingo.❞

ㅤ⠀Turning away, slow steps drew him to the desk where a crystalline glass sat. His rings clicked against it as he grasped it, raising it to his lips. Water- not alcohol, not here. Not now. He needed to be of sound mind when dealing with Doflamingo. Dealing- as if it hadn't been a mutual decision to return to this place.

ㅤ⠀The perks of owning multiple islands throughout the Grand Line. A resort here, a casino there, a plot of land with a luxurious, sprawling chateau. . .

[silkendandelion]

Mirage In The Desert - Chapter 6

Summary: Crocodile investigates a rogue agent in Baroque Works while pondering both his past and what his new relationship with River will mean for the future.

Rated Explicit for sexual content, implied/referenced violence, and strong language. Ongoing, will cover the Alabasta Arc. Cross-posted to Ao3, same username. Send me a DM: yell at me, send flowers. Cheers.

~*~

An intimate date: dancing in silk suits, an unspoken (but not unknown) question between them, and a kiss that leapt off his lips in a spark when the circuit didn’t close.

It had swept them away, fondness filling their chests with “maybe’s”, “perhaps” and “so close”. But in the light of the morning, they remembered how fragile their new terms were, too breakable to play, and yet neither could stand to go back to being strangers.

“Still no mail today, Mila?” River asked when he got back to the casino.

The girl with the tiger’s eye gem gave him a sympathetic frown. “No, Mr. Faustina. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” He tried to smile. “But thank you.”

Beside the bar, Crocodile received Miss All Sunday’s report in a plain envelope, nothing to be said in such a mundane transaction.

She followed his stare to River, surprised at the anger that bubbled up in her throat. No matter, she was used to remaining unreadable, as well as remembering the fact that River was not her problem. “Excuse me.”

He hummed, uninterested in her hasty departure as River came to greet him. “You look tired,” he said, affection unbidden when his hand came up to put some unruly pieces of hair behind the Oasin’s ear. One of his earrings was gone, lost. Pity.

There they are, he thought when River finally looked at him, regarding those eyes that made him long for the sea, devastatingly clear in their pain and tenderness alike. “My letters go unanswered.”

“All of them?”

“It’s been weeks.” That’s suspicious.

Crocodile took a long drag off his cigar, aware of River looking at him expectantly for an answer he didn’t have. Assuming the Oasins miss their River dearly, and would not neglect to reply were those letters received, we assume the letters never made it. Lost, intercepted? The perky girl who worked the door, Mila, had more than a little crush on him but she was a nice girl, too nice to ever consider destroying his property for affections unrequited. It’s someone outside the casino, Crocodile decided.

“I’m going to bed.” River declared suddenly, breaking his train of thought.

“Work on your poetry. Or go for a swim,” Crocodile said. “I’ll be back in the evening, and won’t tolerate finding you laid in bed all day.” It was a habit he hated, River’s tendency to let his emotions consume him, laying in a nest of feathered pillows for hours on days he chooses to sulk, or tending to the wani so long he forgets to eat. He always comes to find Crocodile afterwards, smelling of the sun and red on his shoulders, so hungry he shakes and yet he says it’s attention he can’t live without.

Crocodile leaves the casino per his schedule, the business of the mail tugging insistently at the back of his mind when he refused to give it more stage.

And you’ll be my Crocodile, not Mr. 0. He could recall the popping of the bulb, glass under his shoes, and how he had stepped in front of River to block him from the window.

The memory embarrassed him in hindsight. What, was he 20 again? Stepping in front of a bullet for a man of all things?

But it wasn’t a bullet. The exterior glass was intact, and he found neither bullet hole nor casing. There had been no sound, even a silenced pistol would make a sound he could identify at close range. He hated that he could remember how much bullet wounds hurt before he acquired his fruit. At some points on the wide ocean, his only first aid had been a hot knife.

“Oof!” Something hit his leg, and he looked to see a woman with a head of unruly gray curls beside his knees.

I know you, he thought. A little gloved hand rubbed the spot on her hip where she had landed, her blocked, colorful smock now dusted with sand, the colors of rusted, forgotten playground equipment after a storm.

“Aren’t you going to help up an old woman, you—!” Her shout dissolved like the color in her face.

That’s impossible. You can’t know me too, Miss Saturday. Unless you recognize me as a warlord, but I’ve never known you to be so intimidated.

“You run into me and expect me to pick you up?” He said.

“I mean—! I’m sorry, I never meant to offend, Mr—” She rose, slowly. “I’ll be going now.”

Gentle pats to dust herself off turned frantic, searching for something lost.

“Drop something?”

The guilty flinch in her shoulders didn’t escape his attention, and he followed her eyes to where she finally spotted her lost bobble, snatching it to keep him from recognizing it.

What are you doing with that? He restrained himself from shouting at her, from berating her as she nearly strangled a drop earring of sapphire and emerald. But before he could choose a method of torture she was gone, fled in a terrified scurry that only raised more unanswered questions.

There was no way the fool wasn’t safe, that much he knew, miles away at Raindinners. Right? Nothing a phone call couldn’t answer.

Putter, putter, putter… Putter, putter, putter. If he answered.

His blood chilled against his will. “He’s fine.” Click.

Probably sound asleep. He must have lost the earring this morning or even days ago. So why couldn’t Crocodile stand not knowing for sure? Foolishness is catching, it seems.

And why did you have it, Miss Saturday? You’re supposed to be on assignment today, far, far away from Alabasta. ____ ___ __ _

His work took him further than he meant to travel, not returning to Raindinners until the next afternoon. He only hoped his package had beat him home so his investigation didn’t delay.

“If you’re sick go home, Mila,” He said, not expecting an answer from the wilted flower by the door.

“I’m sorry, Sir, I… I’m worried about River.”

His sigh looked more like smoking, god, he hadn’t actually meant to appear interested in conversation—“What did you say?”

She spluttered, suddenly red as her uniform. “I mean, Mr. Faustina! I’m sorry, Sir, he just lets me call him River. I know that’s no excuse—”

“Hush. What’s wrong with River?”

“Well, a letter came for him yesterday, after he was home for the day. I asked Miss Manager to deliver it but she said she was busy, and let me upstairs to take it to him.” Damn Nico Robin. “He—” She blushed anew, this one a shy flush on the cheeks.

Crocodile almost barked at her to hurry up when she continued. “He invited me inside, said he wanted to give me a gift for bringing the letter to him… As soon as he read the letter he shoved me out, said he felt sick. He hasn’t been down since, Sir, you must know that’s not like him.”

Ash fell on his coat where he hadn’t breathed through her entire story. Is that all it was?

“Go home, Mila. You’re the one who isn’t well.” Calm and cruel, his smile didn’t convince her. “That’s just how River is.”

“You’re wrong, he—” The look he gave her clapped her mouth shut with a swallowed squeak.

“We will see you Monday, Mila.”

“… Yes, Sir.”

“And.” She stopped, one arm in her coat when his warning tone shot through her. “You’ll refer to him as Mr. Faustina from now on.”

“Yes, Sir… Sorry, Sir.”

Hopeless River, you give away too much. When you let people see you they start to care about you, asking questions and noticing patterns. There’s so much more at stake than the petty things you hold close.

You’ll have to get better at being lonely. I’m sorry.

He went straight upstairs to his own apartment, content to ignore the other man who seemed determined to sulk. Seems the problem with the mail was solved if River was getting letters again. Whatever the letter said, it was none of his business and he didn’t care to know. Too hungry, too tired, he propped himself into a chair in the sitting room where his package was sitting on the coffee table, and pouring himself a dark liquor he would be too sleepy to actually touch.

The overloaded bulb popped behind his eyelids when he found himself dozing. Right at the moment of confession, an interruption of an intimate moment. Had they been seen? He suspected the work of a devil fruit. Nico Robin’s fruit fit the possibility but she had no motive; she already knew Crocodile’s identity as Mr. 0 and probably (unfortunately) had her suspicions about him and the Oasin.

If someone was targeting River, it must be to get to him. As (he struggled for the word) useful as the other man was, he wasn’t of any status to warrant a kidnapping or assassination. A hate crime would not have a plan. Robbery would not be so creative.

The ice in his drink clinked as it melted.

Miss Saturday, age 59, possessed a devil fruit: the Peek-Peek fruit, allowing her to glimpse into any living person’s life for a few seconds at a time. Hired as a frontier agent to investigate internal affairs, she had refused to divulge the limitations of her power. “In case I need to investigate you one day, Mr. 0,” she said. Like he would ever allow that to happen.

That said, the memo he made to discover the fine details of her power went forgotten, only suddenly relevant. So now stacks (and stacks) of papers sat on the coffee table, waiting for him, all the reports her partner, Mr. 12, made during his extensive tenure. Fetched personally, and sent ahead with Miss All Sunday. The answer must be somewhere inside.

Tch. He despised grunt work, but this one couldn’t be delegated. Too risky, regarding he needed to find out who knew what, and keep them isolated from each other to deal with precisely.

If Miss Saturday was investigating River, why? And what had it yielded, if anything, about himself? More importantly, was his fool in danger? More importantly?

“It’s going to storm tonight,” came a voice behind him, honey sweet, and the lights of his apartment faded to golden oil lamps. He recognized the room, the captain’s quarters on his first ship. River closed the door behind himself, the sounds of the ocean still coming in the cracked window.

“Then let’s go to bed… I haven’t seen you in days.” Crocodile hardly recognized his voice, surprised when he lit his cigar with his left hand. That’s right, we were left handed before all this. And we only began to hate the rain after the damn fruit.

“I want to go for a swim. Come with me?” River asked, surely unaware that the lamplight made his linen robes sheer in the dark room.

“It’s dangerous with the clouds.”

But he found himself on the deck anyway (he wondered where the crew was, if it mattered), undressing and leaving his clothes in a pile to follow the tempter overboard.

The ocean should have been cold, it always was, yet the waves were warm on every inch of him as he chased the other man with ease. He wonders if playing the piano would feel the same in this place, like he never stopped. He was always a strong swimmer but River is faster, barely out of reach, tumbling over currents and breaking the beams of light that shine down from the surface while he leads the pirate by his nose.

If fate punishes me for nothing else, she will not forgive me for bringing a merman ashore.

How long have we been down here?, he wants to ask but he’s so close to catching him. My lungs are beginning to burn.

Two hands, strong from shucking oysters and tending gardens, wrap around his waist. He spins to see him smiling, soft and inviting when Crocodile drags him closer to steal air from his lungs in a kiss that should have hurt. Being with River never hurt as much as it should, and he hated that.

He sees himself, so much younger, reflected back at him in the glass of those kind eyes. What did River see when he looked at him this way, whole, not yet scarred? Did he see the naivety he saw in River, who was his elder now? Did he see a man who wasn’t yet cruel enough to rule the world?

The pain in his chest spreads to his lungs, suddenly lined with lead as a familiar, paralyzing sickness spread to his limbs. Yes, of course. The ocean abandoned him long ago, and he had shed the weight of that man. The foolish one he didn’t recognize until they stared back at him in the eyes of a man who wasn’t there.

He watched River make no move to reach him, terrified but perfectly still, watching him go down, down, down into the dark water.

Don’t look at me like that. Like you would mourn.

He opened his eyes to an empty house, dark as the ocean, quiet except for the thrum of blood in his ears. A taunting reminder that he was still human. And no sign of River, not a sound. The house was never this quiet.

His good hand massaged the sleep from his eyes. Unbelievable.

Upstairs, he didn’t bother to knock before entering the other man’s apartment. No lights here either, it seemed, but the moonlight in the window revealed enough. Disheveled sheets and clothes strewn about, cold food lay untouched on a nearby table.

“Eh? Crocodile?” The croak of River’s voice squeezed his heart, not unlike someone who’s cried for days (he assumed).

“What’s going on here?” Of course he couldn’t manage to sound worried, not when it mattered. But the single question broke the dam on River’s tears and he sobbed, dry, what sounded painful even from where Crocodile stood in the dark.

“Get a hold of yourself.” No change. “River—”

“I’m sorry. Sorry.” He hiccuped, squeezing himself tight enough to test the seams on his shirt, tears flowing down in rivulets to his chest. Under his legs, a vague crinkling sound implied the presence of the offending letter.

Crocodile snatched it, hard enough to tear the corner, while looted the bedding to find his cigarettes. It looked like an ordinary letter, supposedly written by the Oasins, filled with troubling phrases like “disappointed in your decisions”, and “too dangerous to be associated”. River’s apparent confirmed (confirmed how?) involvement with an unknown criminal organization was grounds for exile. He would not be welcomed back. They even had the nerve to wish him so-called luck.

“… River.”

Shaking hands tried his lighter over and over, thik, thik, failing to light his cigarette until Crocodile picked it from his lips and reached out to embrace him as awkwardly as he felt. Of course the fool took more than he was offered, but Crocodile didn’t protest when he climbed into his lap, crying into his vest.

How troublesome, he thought, tucking a piece of hair behind River’s ear.

“Why are you all that I have left?” River sobbed into his shoulder.

I don’t know. He stared at an imperfection in the wall beside the bed. Maybe fate intended to be as cruel to River as she had been to Crocodile, punishing him for sins he hadn’t committed yet. Crocodile hated that he was the reason River received that letter, hated that they hadn’t met a long time ago on a wide, blue sea and come to Alabasta together.

“I don’t hate you,” River said. The tears in his eyes reminded Crocodile of an amethyst geode that cradled the last drink of water in an endless desert.

“Because you’re a fool.” He brought him close to puzzle their lips together, tasting salt and something so human he almost yanked away to save his heart. River cupped the rough cut of Crocodile’s chin with his palms, feeling in his chest that ‘fool’ was beginning to sound like ‘my love’. The warlord needed a shave, but all River wanted to do was break the waves of his heart against the rocks of a long-suffering soul. Harsh but not impatient, stoic but not unwelcoming. Sharp tobacco and peppery cologne, he wanted to taste them from lips that insulted him and yet would choose ‘lovely’ to describe him above all else.

Crocodile groaned when the front of their slacks pressed flush at River’s insistence, his place on the warlord’s lap suddenly convenient for mischief. A firm hand stilled him where it gripped his back between his rucked shirt and belt.

“Please, I want you,” River sighed in the warm air between them.

“I know.” Crocodile thumbed the blush on the other man’s neck, red from attention. “But I have work to do. I only came to make sure you hadn’t melted into the mattress.”

“Stay, we can still make that happen.” God, he wanted, but the Oasin’s eyes were still red, and he would neither take advantage of him nor let himself be anyone’s coping mechanism. The rogue Miss Saturday was still investigating them both, and until he had more answers, this ended here.

“Goodnight, River.” He pinched his cheek to feign affection, hopefully to pretend they were all right.

But River knew the difference. “… Goodnight, Crocodile.”

Crocodile was quick to untangle them and leave the way he came, though he reminded River to lock the door. A quiet ‘thunk’ of the bolt confirmed he was feeling obedient, for once, though Crocodile doubted it would last.

“What am I going to do with you?” He wondered, reaching into his breast pocket to produce both the offensive letter and the second earring of the pair.

Inside the apartment, River touched the spot on his dresser where the lone earring had sat. “I’m not so naive, Crocodile.”

He recalled the small woman in the street, a few days ago now, who had run into him. They collided hard enough to almost knock them both down, his jewelry tumbling from his hands while he confirmed a missing stone. She ran from him before he could suggest he had been burgled, but thought nothing of it until the second one was gone now, no question that Crocodile swiped it when he was saying goodbye.

“What’s going on?”

In the elevator, Crocodile put the earring into his empty pocket. Empty? No. He searched his other pockets to confirm it was gone. His pocket-watch. A watch, an earring, and a woman. A keepsake, a pretty jewel, and a pickpocket.

Oh. You’ve made a mistake, Miss Saturday. ____ ___ __ _

Traveling with Mr. 2 was always a delight, even when their job managed to get routine. River pondered his briefing, half-read and wine-stained under the bottom of his glass while Mr. 2 went to get more bread and cheese. He wondered what troubled Crocodile; even if it was none of his business, he cared. Was that wrong? Had he misjudged what the warlord expected from him? Wanted from him?

Mr. 2 pushed open the door with their hip, arms full of food and more drink. “You need to eat something other than sugar, even wine has sugar in it!” A gasp. “So does bread—”

Did he want anything? River left his thoughts just long enough to disarm his friend’s worries. “I only need the company of a friend and the food becomes better for me.” I was too vulnerable.

“Oh, you. Sweet man.” Mr. 2 mumbled and began to divide the food. “Let’s toast to that.”

Their glasses clinked but River only barely sipped. “Do you remember when we first met?”

“And you’re being sentimental too! Are you feeling all right?” They reached across to feel his cheek.

“I’m emotional lately, I guess…” I crossed a line with someone I shouldn’t have. And I’m wondering if I’ve made a mistake. “Things I can’t talk about. You understand.”

A promise to keep their secret only barely didn’t escape the other officer. “Do you know I’ll help you in any way I can?”

“Yes, Mr. 2.” My life has gotten so lonely. “Ever since coming on with the organization, I find I have… so few friends. I left a lot behind—” He cleared his throat suddenly to stop himself, picking at his food.

Holding down the promise was harder this time. “If you ever have no friends left in this world, then I must be dead. We’re a team, River baby. Now and always.”

River’s lip quivered, he was tired of crying. “… Not again. Shit—”

He hid his tears in his arms as Bon Clay nearly knocked the table over to embrace him. “Don’t cry! Oh, don’t—okay. It’s okay. Let it out. Okama hugs fix everything, I promise.”

A crew member opened the cabin door, “Captain! Land in sight!”, like they believed no answer after knocking meant ‘come on in!’ somehow. What they hadn’t expected to see was the captain holding a bundled River in his lap while he sobbed.

“Get OUT! Idiot! This is a sacred tradition among men! He needs a safe space!” The pirate ran out faster than they entered.

Later and back on land, River blew into his handkerchief one last time while Mr. 2 offered him a pair of sunglasses. “Let’s get going, Mr. i. Aren’t you excited to meet the other officers?”

“Yes, I’m a new man.” He pocketed his handkerchief.

“That’s it, that’s the spirit! Oh, come our way! OH, COME our way!”

The woman behind the counter at the Spider’s Cafe greeted them politely enough, her hair tied back with a silk scarf that was easy on her navy blue curls. “Good evening.”

Mr. 2 slammed himself into a stool. “Paula! We’re starving, two salmon milkshakes!”

“Actually, just one. And a coffee, if it’s no trouble,” River said without taking a seat.

Miss Double-finger had heard the rumors of the spoiled pet that was Mr. 2’s new partner. She preferred not to indulge hearsay; it wasn’t becoming, highly irresponsible in her line of work, but impossible to avoid. She much preferred to make her own assessments.

“I’m afraid I only have one kind.” She gave him the name of a notoriously cheap brand, beloved by day laborers and tourists who know no better.

“That’s my favorite.” He smiled wide and bright, like any man she’s ever known that was happy to see her. If he was a liar, he was a good one.

“Cream or sugar, sweetheart?”

“However you like it,” was his easy answer. She smiled back and served him a white cup with coffee and a local milk. The coin he handed her was far too much money, but he refused to take it back.

“Thank you.” She warmed a pastry for him (on the house), steaming gently as the door swung open again.

“Whew! This place doesn’t see much business, does it?” A short woman and her lumbering partner wandered in.

“Never does, Miss Merry Christmas.” A woman in a yellow dress was followed close behind by a man that, judging by his helpfully monogrammed jacket, must be Mr. 5. The names and faces from the dossiers were a struggle to recall days later. Knowing your enemy isn’t a step you can skip,” Mr. 0 had warned him.

“Are they my enemy? They’re fellow officers.” Crocodile’s silence told him all he needed, including that his question was too obvious to acknowledge.

In the cafe, Paula spoke up to catch their attention. “The back room is ready for you all. Please let me know if you need anything.”

The short woman, Miss Merry Christmas he believed, preferred to push and shove when she was the only one in the room going fast enough. “Move, Princess!”

“Not a princess,” River said plainly, his hands in the pockets of his coat.

“Don’t talk back to your seniors, Mr. i,” Miss Valentine said as they rounded the table. “You’re the newest officer here. None of us have even heard of you.”

He blinked. “Was I supposed to have heard of you all, then?”

“Excuse me?” Her nose turned an embarrassed red. “You spoiled—”

“I prefer spoiled, actually.”

“I’m leaving if you two don’t stop.” Miss Golden-week appeared but stood by her chair, flanked by her Mr. 3.

“We were meant to start 3 minutes ago. But only Miss Merry Christmas and Mr. 4 have even found their seats. They heard the snail in the center of the table begin to speak, apparently connected before they even entered the room. Slowly, everyone looked for the source of Mr. 0’s eyes until they spotted a surveillance snail in a dusty corner of the ceiling.

“Is Mr. 1 coming?” River thought aloud, and Mr. 2 spoke quietly between them.

“His team never shows up to these things. Thinks he’s too important, I guess.” Seems even Mr. 2 wasn’t immune to assumptions about the other officers.

“Miss Saturday was meant to be here, too, wasn’t she?” Mr. 3 said. That hadn’t been in River’s brief.

“We will begin with who is present. The circumstances of Miss Saturday’s investigation have taken her elsewhere. Even River noticed the drop of several officer’s shoulders at this change of plans. Were they relieved for themselves? Or worried for what might happen next? What had Miss Saturday found?

Working our way down the list, Mr. 3 will begin. The sound from the snail faded from River’s mind when he became distracted by a loose thread on his expensive coat. The others around the table seemed equally bored, though they obviously took to different methods of coping. He watched Miss Golden-week scratch on her sketchbook, wondering how a child came to be a part of their troupe, and what it said about her patient chaperone, Mr. 3. The pencil he used broke at the tip, and she wordlessly swapped their pencils to hand him a new one, sharpener already in her hand.

“Thank you,” came his polite reply, almost drowned out by Miss Merry Christmas’ fidgeting.

That concludes the evening. I wouldn’t take your time leaving, the Unluckies will be on their way to collect the recording devices.

None of the officers wanted to test the validity of the threat, it seemed and filed out quickly, leaving Mr. 2 and River the last ones to leave the back room.

“Come, River, we have nowhere to be and only a good night waiting for us! Let’s go!” He grabbed the other man’s hand but he didn’t move from his spot.

“I have to say goodnight to you here, Mr. 2. I’m sorry, but someone’s coming to meet me.”

“What? You can’t stay here, you might get caught up by the Unluckies. They won’t care you’re just waiting.”

“I’ll be fine, Mr. 2. Someone… special is coming to get me,” River said, and the bashful blush on the okama’s cheeks meant they wouldn’t pry anymore.

“Be safe then. Please.” Mr. 2 offered a final hug before River was alone. Well, alone with Paula as she stacked chairs on tables.

She watched him go back to the meeting room only briefly, long enough to pack the snails in a leather case, as well as the recordings of their meeting.

“Is your friend far? I’ll need to lock up soon.” The case sat between them.

“You don’t have to worry about me.” The smile that didn’t reach his eyes was less convincing than his confident manner of speaking. Between his struggle to emote and the multiple lies he told over the course of the evening, when did that become who he was? “I’m just a bit hesitant to go home, is all.”

“Why’s that?” Not that she cared.

Not that he could answer. He grinned at something funny he hadn’t actually said. “I’m only thinking out-loud. Bye now.” ____ ___ __ _

Immediately after the officers meeting, Mr. 1 made his way to the rendezvous point stated in his instructions, a nearby cross street that was both close to the Spiders Cafe and not far from where the Oasins had been only yesterday. Tide was high now, lapping and spilling onto the streets of the harbor.

“Don’t move, Mr. 1,” came a familiar voice behind him, catching him before he could leave the shadows. Mr. 0 had never intended to meet his officer in person, and even now wouldn’t allow the swordsman to see his face. Policy dictated he trust no one, but he hesitated to trust even the phones or the mail right now.

“Observe the time, Mr. 1.”

“Sir.” He checked his watch without turning around. What a good soldier.

“In precisely 30 minutes, you will be waiting at the pier. Dock 04. Miss Saturday will be waiting for you.” The swordsman made to get to work, but the voice stopped him.

“Mr. 1. Do you have a light?”

The same hand that checked his watch produced a silver lighter, a cursive “1” under his thumb as he flicked it open with a resonating ring. Crocodile leaned down to notice the man’s eyes were closed as he offered the flame to his lips. Such a good soldier.

“And get my watch back.”

Crocodile left his officer to himself while he went to a different cross street, some forgotten alley behind a restaurant that read ‘closed due to drought’ on a handwritten sign in the window.

“I half expected you to run,” he said. There was that flinch in Miss Saturday’s shoulders whenever he startled her. He wondered when she started being so nervous, before or after she knew about him.

“Should I?” Her posture shook even as she held her head high. Poor thing must think I came to negotiate.

“For what it’s worth, it’s admirable. Though traitors are worth little more than their blood.”

She had seen him a handful of times in the context of an ordinary warlord where his reptilian eyes seemed to look through you. But this time he stared at her, so viscerally at nothing else but her that bile bubbled up in her throat. Maybe she should have run.

“I’m not going to kill you.” He ashed his fresh cigar in the street. “You’re going to tell me what you know.”

“And then you’re going to kill me?”

“Talk and find out.”

Hot tears suddenly ran down her face, unexpected by the curl in Crocodile’s lip. “Mr. 12 did nothing wrong! His only crime was that he lost a fight.”

Crocodile sighed, smoke filling the air, and resisting the urge to touch where he was getting a headache. “All this for love.”

“You can’t say that to me—”

“SHUT up.” He barked. The glow on his cigar waned when he pointed it at her, her face flinching with the intrusive thought of him putting it out on her skin. “You saw us that night. With your devil fruit.”

“When we’re alone, I’m just River. Not Mr. Faustina, not Mr. i. And you’ll be my Crocodile, not Mr. 0.” “Yes, I did.”

“Your powers require an object to focus your sight, in this case you’ve been spying on River by stealing his letters from the casino. You wondered about the rumors of his business dealings with myself, and were absurdly unprepared for what you would find.” So shocked you overloaded the bulb in the room.

Crocodile watched her little fists quiver, teeth ground so hard they creaked. “That man, Mr. i, he’s the one who hospitalized my partner. But did you punish Mr. Faustina for nearly killing one of your agents, no, you—”

She licked her lips, mouth suddenly dry as tears fell down her cheeks. “You ordered him dead! For one mistake! Meanwhile, that pathetic islander is brought on as both an officer and some pampered whore of yours, while I suffer without Mr. 12. TELL ME, Mr. 0, how any of that is fair!”

His voice, as deadly as his eyes, silenced her, along with the sudden looming of his shadow. “You’re the one who sent the letter. The one that devastated him.”

Her crying face twisted further into a sneer, red in her nose and sodden lips. “Did it hurt? Did it rip his heart from his chest the way he destroyed mine?”

Crocodile looked like he might pull her head from her shoulders with his good hand, and any courage Miss Saturday had left was leaking out of her shoes, resolved to shakes when faced with the full height of her opponent. “All this for that. For whom? My worst frontier agent? I could laugh if I wasn’t so disgusted by just the sight of you, determined to exact revenge the slow, pathetic way that an insect bites because they can do nothing else… You can’t even say his name.”

He managed to compose himself, carefully folding away his anger to return to his cigar. “Miss Saturday, you have broken the most important rule of our organization by seeking the identities of your fellow agents and meaning to expose them.”

One more thrash, Miss Saturday, if you please. “Kill me then, I’ve already won. I know the most important name of them all, and this entire island will too. Cling to your wounded whore, he’s all you’ll have left soon enough. You’ll never be able to kill everyone who knows who you are, Mr. 0.”

His hook rose to block out the streetlight but Miss Saturday braced for a pain that never came. A sealed sack landed with a ‘tink’ at her feet, the clinking of coins inside.

“… The fuck is that? Money?”

“It’s enough to repay your grievances. More than enough to remember who gave it to you,” Crocodile said, but the timber of his voice did nothing for Miss Saturday’s nerves. Her body went cold under the embarrassment of her emboldened speech.

“You—You’re letting me go. Even after I—”

“If I ever see you again, I won’t. There’s a boat at the docks that leaves in 15 minutes. I suggest you be on it.” His reptilian eyes seemed cold even for him as the little woman grabbed the bag and took off so fast she broke one of her sandals, skidding and sprinting barefoot out of his sight.

Run, Miss Saturday. If there wasn’t more at stake than my reputation among the people, I would have ended this personally. I suppose you still have some luck left.

Second chances were for alcoholics and the lucky, Miss Saturday figured, ignoring the rocks under her feet as she ran. Ran until her lungs burned, all the way to the pier.

Signs for fresh produce had been painted over since the drought worsened, more and more shops boarded up and abandoned, but it was still recognizable as the same market she last saw Mr. 12. He had been sick all morning and told her to go ahead to the rendezvous point, said he would catch up. A drunk and a friend was still a friend, gone now, unable to be forgiven. At Dock 04, people were loading a freight ship with standing room only on the deck for a few paying passengers. A starving island with rotten people, she was pleased to leave Alabasta behind.

The bag of severance pay weighed heavy in her hands. Thank you, Crocodile. “Seems the Oasin isn’t the only fool.”

She opened the bag to count out pay for the boat, and a fragile smile ran from her face when she saw a silver lighter sat atop the pile of gold coins. Mr. 1. Do you have a light?

No. Don’t touch it. Don’t read it. Just run to the boat, second chances are for alcoholics and the lucky—but her hand closed around the lighter anyway, possessed and unable to not know.

The engraved cap rung out in the quiet. She activated her peek—

And saw her own back. ____ ___ __ _

Raindinners wasn’t too far away as the sand-sand fruit flies, and Crocodile arrived back home to a mostly (thankfully) empty lobby, the bartender greeting him politely as they cleaned up for the shift change. He was exhausted, relieved, wondering if his poet was already at his writing desk for the evening, smelling of almonds and soap. It was late, too late for supper. Not too late to see him, he mused as he put his watch in his pocket.

He hadn’t seen the other man in days, not since the incident (that’s what he called the sudden shift in their relationship, regarding the reading of the letter and the horribly embarrassing events that followed). Upstairs, River’s front door was unlocked, disobedient, and he cursed himself for not knocking before letting himself inside, a tough habit to break when he was so unused to… whatever they called themselves now. He hated that the door was always open, whether because it was an unsafe habit from a sheltered life, or because it felt too much like an invitation to rest his head on the other man’s couch—he wouldn’t say.

“Crocodile.” There stood his poet, dressed and groomed, but no smile. “You should have called. I’m just getting home, I’d like a bath first.” He offered a kiss to Crocodile’s cheek, smelling of cigarettes and wine when the warlord stooped to accept. So he’s been out.

“Where have you been?”

“Nearby. Some cards, a little drink… Why?” River looked back over his shoulder as he hung his coat, no room in his tone for anything other than ‘I missed you’.

“You’re upset.”

Anything but that. They loved to talk for hours about music, literature, themselves. But not them, never them. It was too personal, intimate in a way they weren’t. Did they want to? River liked to think so, but the warlord was just so hard to read sometimes.

“I haven’t slept well,” was River’s carefully formed answer. He wouldn’t apologize for his terseness, and Crocodile didn’t expect it.

He put his cigar down in the ash tray, tongue on his lips and eyes on the width of the other man’s shoulders when he worked knots from his neck. “Any more letters?”

“Why would they write to me when they are done with me? I’m—how did they say—‘a liability’? And ‘bound to be happier where I already am’… apparently.”

Crocodile’s thumb popped when he curled it around his fingers. He hadn’t come to see him for anything more than a bit of company, maybe a nightcap with a friend. A part of their routine, yet now they were separated by a desert in the tiny apartment. That’s right, the letter.

Nothing had come of Miss Saturday’s investigation of the Oasin, and he hesitated to say he was surprised. But her deception ran deep, a cancer that had to be removed piece by piece, leaving survivors subject to thorough testing. He never intended River to know; after all, what’s one more secret? But the part of Crocodile that’s come to trust the other man can’t stand to see him suffer.

“The letter was a fake.” There’s my poet, finally, he thought when he saw a spark return to his downtrodden gaze, like Crocodile was already a king. Maybe to River, he was. Go on, tell him how you figured it out. That you remembered how he told you that Oasin’s use flawed, foreign composite paper because it’s cheap and easy to find at port.

“Someone targeted you.” Tell him you saved him.

“Why? What did I do? You mean—?”

And what about the dream? Say something already. “I can’t tell you anymore.”

Crocodile expected him to protest but the Oasin must have all the answers he wants, content to stare, mouth the tiniest bit agape while he realizes he’s not been forsaken after all. His breath stutters in a rush from his lungs. “… Thank you for telling me what you could.”

“I’ve told you, don’t thank me.” That cigar was looking pretty good again, but hands on his back stopped him from going to the ash tray. They wove around his middle in a hug, too soft, too nice.

“I missed you.”

Crocodile thought it sounded like ‘I know your secrets’, murmured with a nuzzle against his back. Which one? Which was worse? “I only came by to tell you about the letter. I’ll leave you to your evening.”

“Stay, please.”

“Don’t you want to get back to your letter writing? Your poetry, maybe.”

Why is the fool smiling? “If you really want to leave, I won’t keep you.” Hands leave him, and he hears River walk away. The air of the apartment manages to be cold against his back, even through his coat.

“I don’t need your permission for anything,” Crocodile bites back, but the other man just smiles to himself (he’s off to get ready for bed), and part of Crocodile wants to join him in his routine, brush his hair before he knots it again in his fist. Miss Saturday found nothing on River because there IS nothing, he wants nothing from you.

Except what he can’t have.

Can’t he?

He thinks back to the man from all those years ago, his crew that abandoned him right after, even Miss All Sunday with her knife at the ready, how loneliness has been his shelter in this renewed rise to the top.

One more time. Just one more time.

River hears him approach first, before he feels a large hand spin him, suddenly pinned to the counter by a kiss that tries to taste his soul behind the backs of his teeth. His leather-soled shoes slip on the bathroom floor, barely caught by the hook and placed haphazardly on the marble like Crocodile couldn’t choose between pressing their mouths or their bodies tighter together.

Crocodile’s lungs burn when they finally pull part, a string of saliva snapping back to shine on River’s swollen lip. It reminded him of the dream, covered by the ocean, and oh he wanted to drown.

“Yes... Yes—” Whatever plea River wanted to say was swallowed by another greedy kiss, having recognized the question in Crocodile’s eyes and tried to answer without moaning. Anything was fine, he just wanted it to be him, the warlord he had sworn to hate, the one who continued to be good to him. And he was so willing but there were too many clothes, not enough time to be consumed the way he craved. Crocodile would try, he wanted to stoke the other man’s spirit and body until it singed his palms and left his lips raw.

“Yes, more? Or yes, please?” He rasped against his lips, already?, smothering River’s moan of an answer with a rake of his teeth to his bottom lip. His jeweled hand wrenched their shirts from too-tight pants, and let his belt be pulled free with a sharp thwip.

Don’t stop, don’t think.

I need you. Needed you all this time.

River was silk in his fingers, almost too slippery to hold when he wanted to drop to his knees, little frustrated murmurs slipping from kiss-swollen lips when Crocodile refused to let him off the counter. “Let me, please—” Their pants clinked open loud in the bathroom’s stone acoustics.

“Not enough time,” Crocodile lied. He needed to break the spell or he might change his mind about everything.

“We have all the time in the world.”

No, we don’t. He could point to their last day together on a calendar, pinpoint this urgency, the pressure behind his ribs to take, take, trust while River begged him threatened to boil over, desperate to reach fruition before… before—They pulled the rest of their clothes apart just enough to touch, bare nipples pricking the other’s chest, cocks sliding but not enough, never enough from spit alone. Perfect teeth bit into River’s jaw where he hissed from the cold of Crocodile’s rings on their hottest parts.

“I can—wait—” River was interrupted by a thumb on his tip, expertly tugging his foreskin while he groped the counter blindly for some oil, or maybe a life preserver. Combs and bottles fell to the ground, the distant sound of Crocodile’s rings coming off in five shrill patters, River managed to grab his prize (the oil that smelled of bergamot and almonds).

Yes, that’s perfect. They moaned together when their cocks slid easily, finally, Crocodile’s larger hand jerking them together while River kissed tiny whimpers into his mouth and tugged on his hair with oily hands.

Their lips smack apart, eyes dazed and seeking. “I never imagined you would be quiet.”

“You thought about me? Ah!” River cried out when Crocodile bit the side of his neck hard enough to punish, never to hurt.

“There it is. Speak to me, sing for me.”

River let an unguarded moan slip from his wet lips at the earnest demand spoken gently against the mark on his neck. Too soft in his ear, too close, they were so close and too foggy to even try to wonder what would happen when they could finally come down. But not yet.

“Don’t stop, please, like that,” River said as a hot mouth closed on his throat and Crocodile could feel the sweat dripping down his lower back, behind his ears.

“Mm, fu—fuck, yes—” River’s hips buck in his hand, the purple head of his cock peeking and disappearing while Crocodile leers at the crimson flush that’s flooding his chest and neck. He knows he must not look any better, his hair ruched from it’s style and golden eyes glassy.

The humid smell of them drifts up hot from where Crocodile’s forearm begins to burn, and he looks down to admire the constellation of beauty marks on River’s exposed chest. Each one begs him to close his teeth around it; he wants to leave proof that he was here, wanted so fervently. But he’s too distracted, the threat of his release prickling at the back of his thighs, to notice that River was staring equally at the warlord’s scarred chest, helplessly panting, whimpering at Crocodile to kiss him when he cums.

You’re mine. Mine to hold, mine to trust. I want no one else, River thinks.

You’re mine. Mine to hold, mine to trust. Maybe not forever, but as long as you’ll have me. Crocodile’s broken from his sentimental brain fog by hot droplets on his face.

“Oh, oh.” He groans when he sees River’s cumming between them, a long groan in his throat and the back of his head pressed hard into the mirror. He struggles to breath, too much, too much, when Crocodile follows him, the other man’s larger body bucking him further up on the counter to wring every last spark from the throbbing in his cock. The over-stimulation on Crocodile’s sore cock makes his mouth water, a drop of drool falling to the back of his cum-covered hand.

Shit, he hasn’t cum that hard in years. In front of the fool, no less. Because of the fool, he has to admit as he admires his starry eyes and ghost of a smile. The haze they left behind is sticky, too hot, and the moisture on the mirror behind them squeaks when River tries to move. Crocodile’s crippling self doubt is (thankfully) too tired to fuss even as the embarrassment settles in, slicking his bangs back and wondering if that was cum in his hair. God.

“We’re too old for this,” He says out loud, not meaning to be so candid.

River’s laugh is kind but doesn’t comfort him when he goes to move them to a place to rest. The bed sheets can be cleaned much easier than the couch, he decides, and lays them down.

“You’re not old.”

“That’s not what I said—”

“I think you’re lovely.” No, that’s how I describe you, Crocodile managed to not say out loud. His pressing need for a nap is interrupted by River climbing onto his stomach, still messy and unashamed, right where he can rock back against Crocodile’s soft cock (the soul is willing but the flesh is weak).

“Too lovely to have just once.”

“If you’re going to be this candid with me,” his thumb reaches up to press on River’s tongue, hopefully to distract him while he waits for his cock to respond, “I’m going to have to find work for your mouth.”

“You’re the one who didn’t let me show off earlier.” River huffs when the hand wraps around his throat, too gentle for such a violent gesture when Crocodile’s wet thumb brushes under his jaw. The grip offers leverage, regardless, to kiss him again, slower, still searing hot.

“It’s been a little while. I’m sorry I was quick.” River’s forehead nudges his sternum.

Crocodile stared at the ceiling, wondering what possessed him to open his mouth. “I—” Don’t tell him about your heart. “I don’t allow many men this close.”

Well, that’s not much better. Now he thinks he’s special. He can’t be.

But I may not have a choice.

“I don’t make a habit of this either. For men, I mean, I’ve never found a woman I had a connection with,” River said.

A cold chill ran up Crocodile’s back, a familiar dread he had slaved for decades to stamp down. That’s not who he was anymore. Did it matter? He hated that it did.

“I’m going to tell you something. You are to stay silent until I’m finished.”

And River did, he stayed silent the entire time, obedient, so receptive that Crocodile almost interrupted his story to tell him to blink. “I said you were lovely, didn’t I? That will never change.”

It was the first of many secrets shared in the dark, too many for a liability like River. Maybe he knew that, maybe he wanted to believe the opposite was true. That love mattered more than power, and was strong enough to heal wounds decades old, made by people long dead. It was, but River would learn too soon that people don’t have to be whole to love (or be loved), and they don’t have to be broken to hurt you.

[conquiistador]

videcoeur​:

Crocodile rolled his eyes and scoffed internally at the sight of Doflamingo pouring the powder into the drink. So much caution. As if there was anything potent enough to take the man’s life. Poison? If Doflamingo was so weak, maybe Crocodile would attempt. While he may not be the most courageous, he was no coward. If he wanted Doflamingo dead, he’d do something…bigger. 

“Major difference. I don’t think I need to spell it out for you.” Crocodile replied dryly. To Doflamingo both were the same thing, but to Crocodile, business talks were just that- business. 

“You and I have wildly different ideas of what’s pleasurable.” He added with snark before pouring himself a second glass. This time, however, he only took a gentle sip, allowing the liquid to slosh about in his mouth. It helped him unclench a little, figuratively. Alcohol made things more bearable, and he knew the night was only beginning. Last time Doflamingo visited, he’d wanted to establish a trade market between Alabasta and Dressrossa. Alabasta’s coffee is considered one of the finest in the world, and Dressrossa is well known for its rich, flavorful wines. 

Even Crocodile liked to have a glass or two while eating meat. Scotch was only for occasions, the late night drink of choice. Otherwise, he, too, liked red wine. He just didn’t keep any in his lair’s office.

“In any case,” He started, voice even and words hanging heavy, as if he was weighing every one of them. The wrong choice of word could trigger Doflamingo into..being Doflamingo. It was hard to thread with that man, pun intended. “You at least chose the right evening to visit. Your timing, for once, matches mine. I had nothing planned tonight. Still, that doesn’t mean I want to spend my free time listening to a lunatic’s demands. Make it quick, for both our sakes.” 

Golden eyes peered intently at Doflamingo’s face, first analyzing the shape of those horrid glasses, then down the perfectly scuplted nose, his lips, and the robust jawline. He felt his pulse quicken as he stared at that Adam’s apple and the nerve line that linked from the edge of the jawline to the protusion of Doflamingo’s collarbone. He was a thing to marvel at, that was for sure. All sharp angles and confidence- it was unfortunate it was wrapped in eccentrism and gaudiness. 

Crocodile caught the edge of his own scar as his gaze lowered momentarily, reflecting. It grounded him, and the slight tingling across the punctures reminded him to lift his gaze. Glasses or not, he would stare right in the center of them, unwavering.

“So?”

How INTERESTING. Crocodile did probably not even realize how he was giving himself away. If there was a difference between business and pleasure, then - Crocodile was having hopes. The very fact that he was implying there was a possibility that Doflamingo was here for what CROCODILE would consider PLEASURE. Truly, he was OH SO FUN when he put his foot in his mouth without realizing it. Such a careful man, protecting his facade. To Doflamingo, rather than being made of SAND, the heat had been turned up. He was glass. Doflamingo could see right through him. It was not very difficult, since it was the same for everyone. They all adored him.

He watched the aquarium, and the looming shadows of the large animals that were gliding almost gracefully through the waters. Water always looked like blood to him. Crocodile was pouring himself another glass, clearly expecting this interaction to carry on, since he didn't finish this one as quickly as the first. Doflamingo still did not look at him, almost as if he wasn't even paying attention to what he was saying. Crocodile's words were carefully chosen. He could tell from how he spoke. Yet, he allowed himself to slip in small insults. Testing the waters. Testing just how forgiving Doflamingo was tonight.

Slowly, he turned his head back towards him. Crocodile was looking at him. Intensely. Almost a little lost. Of course he was - it was the hardest thing, to look away from Doflamingo. His presence was like gravity to the eyes. Crocodile's gaze dipped to Doflamingo's collar bones. As always, he was dressed in an open shirt. His clothes never reflected his ROYAL status. There was no point, as any fabric, regardless of how expensive, would be a rag compared to the beauty of him. You could not dress a work of art. His body could not be complimented by clothes. You could not improve upon perfection.

Crocodile looked up again, meeting ( but not meeting ) Doflamingo's eyes.

❝ So we are discussing your wishes now, are we? Fu fu fu fu. ~ ❞ Doflamingo commented, his voice as humorous as ever, but there was a slight edge to it, as if Crocodile's wishes were the least important thing in the entire world. How dare he mention what HE wanted, when Doflamingo was not yet satisfied? ❝ Quite bold, would you not agree? Why don't you tell me more about your wishes? Your idea of pleasure. ❞ It was a dare, but at the same time, it was so very clearly a demand for Crocodile to capitulate. Doflamingo loved tugging at him like this. Setting his nerves on edge, and make him tip-toe around the conversation until he could not take it any longer.

[mamamittens]

Bite Me (I Will) +18

Day #5 of Spooktober!

Fandom: One Piece (Regency-ish AU – Look, I’m not a historian, consider this like… Romance Novel Regency Era)

AO3 link ;)

Ship: Vampire!CrocodileXF!Reader

Warnings: blood kink/play, biting, breath play, oral sex, rough sex, dirty talk, degradation, unsafe sex, dom/sub undertone (That probably turned into overtones, my bad), overstimulation, aphrodisiac, begging, and light somnophilia implied (reader wakes up to oral). Oh! And implied future corruption kink and sex in a church (threat or a promise, you decide).

Word Count: 5,029

@tardiiart

Perhaps the illustrious ballroom would be more impressive if you hadn’t seen at least a dozen just as opulent in the past three months. This season had been particularly busy compared to the past few years, though you aren’t sure why exactly. Well, actually, you do know why. But the probable reason was ridiculous enough you refused to acknowledge it out loud or even in your head.

See… it might be your fault. Sort of.

You fiddled a little with the black lace sleeve of your dress. The height of fashion and just a bit ahead, the dark red dress was bold against the white marble and golden hallway. Tucked in close to your chest with a corset with layers of fabric that fanned out around you, you were quire fond of the design. Elegant and just a little spicy with the lacy cover that prevented a clear view of your breasts. Many men had given you’re a second glance tonight… it was a shame your thoughts rested with none of them at all.

No, you were thinking of only one man. And the source of your busy dance schedule this season.

It started late last season when the illusive and reclusive Earl of Alabasta, Lord Crocodile, finally deigned to appear at the party of a Duchess. Presumably as a favor of some kind since he was famous for refusing any invites to all functions not directly related to his duties or business obligations. The man cut quite the figure among a group of tittering young ladies vying for his attention. Suit immaculately tailored with crisp lines in a color so dark you were only somewhat sure it wasn’t actually black. It contrasted greatly with his famous gold hook—which he received in an incident many years back that the rumor mill still could not pin down to this day. Dark hair slicked back as he stared, bored as shit, with a fat cigar clenched between his teeth and a thin scar stretching over his nose and cheeks in a seamless line.

The man looked so sullen to be there you decided it wouldn’t hurt to bring him some wine. Hopefully getting a little tipsy would improve his night. He seemed appreciative at the time, eagerly accepting the glass and excusing himself to the balcony area—much to the disappointment of the hopeful young ladies that gave you sharp glances for the interruption. If Lord Crocodile had been looking for a wife, it would be the talk of the city. So their time would honestly be better spent looking elsewhere. You, at least, were quite happy without a husband. Your fortune firmly your own and no family close enough to have a say in the matter, you were free to do as you pleased with no plans to change that.

Naturally, you were quite surprised when Lord Crocodile asked you to join him in a waltz not an hour later, wine and cigar free. There was a slightly awkward pause as you took in his request—and another when you tried to puzzle out how to hold his hook. But, thankfully, Lord Crocodile found your hesitance amusing rather than insulting.

“Grip the base, if you must, my lady.” Lord Crocodile suggested with a sly smirk. You huffed, startled as your face heated up for a moment before wrapping your hand around the base of his golden hook. You stared up at him with narrowed eyes, tipping your chin up with your own smile.

“I suppose it will have to do, so long as you don’t falter in this dance, Lord Crocodile.” You challenged. His smirk fell for a second before growing back with an arched, smug brow.

“Oh, I’m sure I won’t disappoint, my lady.” The Earl suggested before sweeping you onto the dance floor. Despite his famous shut-in ways, the waltz was precise and breathtaking. Lord Crocodile never failing to dip, swing, and lead you around the floor in time with the music. His height actually proved to be more of a challenge than his hook, leading you to stare firmly at the buttons of his jacket or demurely glance up through your lashes.

When the orchestra finally ended, you were almost breathless and giddy. It had been ages since you’d danced like that. Still, you could hardly allow the smug bastard to win completely.

“It appears you are quite… adequate of a dance partner, my lord.” You laughed, attempting to step back, but his grip on your waist didn’t falter.

Lord Crocodile slowly removed his hand and stepped back. Pulling his hook, and your hand still firmly gripping the warm metal, to his lips as he bowed. His lips brushed your gloved knuckles softly, breath seeping into the fabric as he chuckled.

“As are you, my lady… perhaps I shall have to find you on the dance floor again?” he suggested lightly with burning eyes. Shocked at his forwardness, you couldn’t help but smile.

“Perhaps.” You acquiesced.

Ever since then he’s danced with you at every ball at least once. Each time with vague innuendo that you coyly responded to without addressing the lewdness of his phrasing because unlike him, you were raised better than that. Incorrigible bastard that he is.

This ball was the same as the others in the end. Glittery finery abound, eager young ladies seeking a husband, gossiping old ladies on the sidelines, and him. Striding across the room to ask for a dance he knew you would accept. Still immaculately dressed and cocky as ever, you had half a mind to turn him down despite the improperness of such a request just to wipe the smug look off his face. And then, for once, there was a break in routine.

A handsome young man cut in front of you.

Eager and bold, he asked for your hand in a dance and too surprised to turn him down, you agreed.

He wasn’t… a terrible dancer. Though you once teased Lord Crocodile of being ‘adequate’, you grudgingly admitted that this young man fit far better than the Earl. A bit too unsteady, hands just shy of improper and loose, you couldn’t quite lose yourself in the waltz. He also used far too much cologne, which was unfortunate since this particular waltz required you to keep close to the young man. You actually had enough room to think about how awkward it was going to be to ensure this young man never sought your hand for a dance again once the music wound down.

Thankfully, just like any other time in a dance, Lord Crocodile didn’t let you down.

Just before the young man—did he even give his name? How improper of him—could speak, a gold hook wrapped around your wrist and gave a slight tug. Shocked by his boldness, you nevertheless allowed Lord Crocodile to pull your hand up to be kissed.

“My apologies, my lady. I almost didn’t recognize you in such a lovely dress… I hope you still have the energy for one more dance?” Lord Crocodile asked coyly, dismissing the unfortunate young man with a glance. Though he sputtered, the young man left without comment. “You appear quite… unsatisfied with your previous partner’s performance.”

“And you believe you can rectify that?” You asked, just as coy. Lord Crocodile merely smiled and took your hand, sweeping you into a wide arch for a much more invigorating waltz.

“I haven’t left you wanting yet, have I?” Lord Crocodile asked, leading you flawlessly as you instinctively rested your hand just below his hook.

“What if you have left me wanting, my lord?” You tipped your head back with a sly grin. Lord Crocodile paused for a heartbeat before grinning.

“Then I’ll have to rectify that, won’t I, my lady?” Crocodile leaned down and whispered into your ear. You gasped, shocked and delighted in equal measure. A subdued cologne mixed with whiskey and ashes tickled your nose.

Flushed with heat and feeling unusually faint in your tight corset, you laughed.

“Oh, promises, promises my lord.” You tittered softly, “You should be more careful with your words. Someone might misconstrue them into something perverse.” A puff of warm air tickled your ear.

“No need to misconstrue anything if that’s exactly what I mean. You really do look ravishing in that dress, you know.” Crocodile whispered, “And I find myself compelled to your side with every dance.”

“Oh, I’d say you must tell every lady that, but it shocks me that you find your way to the dancefloor at all.” You teased, letting your dress flare in a spin Crocodile eagerly allowed.

“Perhaps I can’t stand to be called merely ‘adequate’, my lady.” Crocodile teased back as the song slowly drifted off. You were both on the edges of the dance floor now as he lead you to the back door where a few party goers were slipping out to enjoy the gardens. “If you’re not exhausted, I thought we could enjoy some fresh air?” he asked.

You smiled, nodding eagerly.

“The gardens sound quite nice, actually.” Of course, it wasn’t just the garden that you were both intending to enjoy. The air was crisp tonight outside of the ballroom. The rose bushes and flowers immaculately tended in clear paths that lead to a hedge maze. Pumpkin lanterns decorated the way and provided ample light further out.

As a gentleman should, Crocodile offered his arm for you to hold. Something you eagerly took advantage of, enjoying the warmth and firmness under your hands. The quiet walk was serene, interrupted only by the clack of your heels on the paved pathway and the sound of leaves brushing your dress as you walked by. Crocodile, a man you were beginning to suspect of incredible deviancy, lead an almost straight path to the maze. Where neither one of you could be seen from the outside.

You snorted, Crocodile giving you a sly glance. You merely batted your eyelashes and smiled.

“You’re a bold man, my lord.” Crocodile grinned, showing more teeth than you’d ever seen before. Sharp, too… unusually so.

“And to think this is only the start, my lady.”

“You promise?” You asked demurely, teasing him. Crocodile paused just after the first turn in the maze and leaned down to whisper against your temple.

“I’ll do much more than make promises for you, my lady. I’m a… man of action. Promises are sweet, pretty things meant to tempt you. And I intend to offer much more tangible delights in my seduction. If you think you can handle me.” You gasped, shocked as his breath curled around your hairline. Your heart raced and you loved it. “I want to hear you say it, my lady. I want more than just that pretty heart beating for me.”

“Oh? And what do you want to hear me say, my lord? That I enjoyed dancing with you? Greatly?” You pulled away from his arm and spun around, laughing as you walked back further into the maze. “That I find you quite scandalous and bold? And that I like that about you very much?” You challenged.

Crocodile narrowed his eyes dangerously and smirked, stalking forward as you tried to move backwards faster. You only managed a few dizzy turns before your back met a prickly wall of shrubbery.

A dead end. With Crocodile standing tall before you, his body coated in moonlight as he confidently walked closer to you. Until you had to bend you neck to look up at him. Cold, golden metal nipped at your chin as he tilted your head up more.

“Well, my lady, I think…” Crocodile leaned down until his lips ghosted over yours, whiskey and wine mixing between you both, “That was a very good start.” You smirked, reaching up to grasp at his tie.

“Right… you’re a man of action. I almost forgot.” You yanked on his tie hard, sending his lips crashing into yours. Bold and drunk on the illicitness of your actions, you swept your tongue between his teeth and hissed as something nicked you. Blood tainting the kiss as Crocodile groaned, cradling your head with one hand as he deepened your shared passion. Chasing your tongue with his own eagerly.

A soft, plaintive sound slipped out from you as you clutched his suit, answered by a sharp growl that vibrated on your lips. You laughed a little, reaching up to tug on his hair, peaking through your lashes to find his eyes bearing down on your hungrily. They seemed to glow red hot the longer his lips slid over yours, as though he was finally sating his desire and you were thrilled to be there for it. But unfortunately, you couldn’t lose yourself under his heady kiss forever.

You started to pull back when his hand slipped lower, thumb sliding over your throat and squeezing. You gasped, swallowing hard against the pressure as Crocodile growled, resuming the kiss with a harsh nip to your bottom lip. Your breath became labored under his attention, every inhale hard earned under his firm hand. Your eyes slid shut as you leaned into his chest, mewling as the motion briefly dislodged his hand and cool air rushed down your throat. He huffed softly, tongue slipping back further as he dropped the pretense and gripped the column of your throat.

Your heart throbbed, blood racing against his firm grip as you struggled to breath, dizzy. Suddenly, almost as fast as it started, Crocodile pulled back. His tongue slow to leave as lewd strings pulled and snapped with every heave of your chest. He panted, smirk evident as he took in your debauched state.

“I knew it.” He whispered, licking his lips. “You taste like divine perfection… We should stop. Shouldn’t we? You’d be utterly ruined if I gave into what your eyes promise here and now.” Still lightheaded, you laughed.

“I thought you didn’t like promises? And why would anyone need to know you take my breath away?” You giggled. Crocodile smirked.

“Well, neither one of us would have a choice when you start screaming.” You arched a brow.

“And you’d let me?” you challenged. Crocodile sucked in a harsh breath and scoffed.

“What a troublesome young lady, you are. So eager to throw it all away for a moment of pleasure.” Crocodile brushed his hook against your cheek and you leaned into it.

“Only a moment?” you scoffed back, “And here I thought you were a man of action, my lord.” He narrowed his eyes at your, light flashing unnaturally in their depths as he leaned over to whisper against your ear again.

“If you really are so eager for me, leave your window open tomorrow night.” You laughed, turning your head to kiss his cheek.

“Like naughty schoolchildren, my lord?” The smile Crocodile gave you, despite all his pretty words, promised something dark and dangerous.

“Oh, I’m so much worse than a randy young man could ever be.” You tipped your head up to smile at him.

“I’m looking forward to it.” Crocodile briefly softened then, brushing his thumb over your cheek and giving you a chaste kiss.

“I would never disappoint a lady.”

Naturally, you parted ways after that, barring the few moments you both took to set things in order. And you feigned a fever the next day, choosing instead to set out two glasses and a bottle of wine after the sun slipped over the horizon. As tempting as it was to dress up, you decided that there was no point in wasting any makeup or time prettying up your hair. Nor was there any need for a fancy dress.

Windows wide open to the night air, doors locked and staff dismissed clear across the estate, you poured yourself a glass. Your white nightgown was barely enough to stave off the chill in the air. The sheer white thigh high socks a last-minute addition once you realized it was only getting colder. And then you waited.

But not for long.

The sound was soft. Like satin brushing against your skin as a breeze swept through your room. The windows softly locking shut. Startled, you turned to find Crocodile there, elegantly dressed as always. Silently, you offered him a glass.

“How kind of you, but I’m afraid I desire something with more body.” Crocodile stalked across the room and tipped your chin back, “Are you sure you want this, my lady?” Crocodile asked.

Instead of replying, you set down your glass and pulled him close, licking his lips as he groaned in surprise.

“I thought you were a man of action?” You taunted him.

Crocodile was briefly shocked before he grinned, scooping you up into his arms and tossing you onto the bed. He parted his lips wide, showing off his teeth—so sharp in the light you gasped.

“Some would say that it’s debatable I’m a man at all.” Crocodile purred, “But if you’re still unafraid, you have my word that tonight will take your breath away.”

He deliberately hovered over you, bracing his hook on your bed as his hand squeezed your waist. You didn’t bother thinking too deeply on the matter. Questions could come later. You wanted him now.

You shoved your thigh against his burning erection.

“Feels like a man to me, Earl.” You breathed, “But maybe I need a closer inspection?” Crocodile allowed a satisfied grin to overtake his features as he roughly shoved off his clothes.

“Perhaps you do.” Crocodile declared, removing his buckle and releasing his cock. Proudly, he stepped back and grasped it in his hand. “Kneel. You wanted to inspect it, did you not?” Breathlessly, you slid off your bed to your knees. His dick inches from your face. You slipped your tongue over the weeping head and he groaned, hips thrusting forward instinctively.

“Certainly seem to taste like a man.” You whispered, slowly allowing the head to slide between your lips. His hand rested on your hair in a firm grip, pulling you in close.

“Hn. Better be sure. That’s it. Take it in deep.” Crocodile groaned, thrusting his hips forward to shove his cock down your throat. You swallowed hard, Crocodile snarling as he yanked your hair. “Hardly a lady right now, are you? Taking my cock so well, are you a whore? Certainly my whore now, aren’t you?” Crocodile growled, fucking your mouth in shallow motions. His dick made your jaw ache, the hot length thick and hard on your tongue. Long enough to dip down the back of your throat. Cold metal hooked around the back of your neck and forced you to bury your nose in his crotch.

A very unlady-like moan vibrated his cock, another stifled snarl slipping past his lips. Suddenly, he yanked your head off of him.

“If you want my seed, you have to earn it, my lady. Get on the bed. It’s time for your own inspection.” Crocodile demanded, “Do you taste like a lady?”

You scrambled back on the bed as he laughed at your eagerness. Teasingly, Crocodile ensure you laid down flat by running his hook up your body, the sharp tip brushing over your clothed thigh and breasts until he caught the collar. Then, with a harsh jerk, he cut it clean in half. You gasped, attempting not to arch your spine for his roaming hand as he cradled your breast. Pinching the delicate skin with a pleased hum.

Crocodile licked up your belly and nipped the underside of your breast, pressing his tongue hard into your skin until he found your nipple. Curling around the stiff peak, playing with your body, Crocodile suddenly opened his mouth wide and bit down. Fangs sinking in deep as you attempted to scream, the sound cut by his hand grasping your throat. It felt like fire spread through your veins as you shuddered, gasping for air as he sucked in greedily.

Drinking your blood like the finest wine. After only a few moments, Crocodile drew back with a bone-deep growl. His eyes were red, glowing in the subdued light of your room. Blood dripped down his lips as he licked them away. He ripped away the torn remnants of your nightgown.

“Mine. You taste like you’re mine.” Crocodile growled, launching forward to bully his tongue down your throat. He tasted like hot iron and desire as he ate away what little gasps of air you could manage. Your blood was still on fire as he shoved his hand between your soaked lips, teasing your clit as you squirmed. His fingers slipped down lower with ease, sliding into your cunt and spreading your body wide as you keened brokenly. Body quivering as the fire burned hotter.

Despite the absence of his hand on your throat, you found it no easier to breath as moans and pathetic whines slipped onto his tongue. And he ate them all down eagerly, even as you drenched his hand. He shoved your thighs apart as he slid down your body, pausing to lap at the beads of blood that dripped down your breast before kissing your exposed cunt. Licking up your slick mess as eagerly as he drank from you. And when your pussy was clean, he turned his head, brushing down the lacy top of your thigh-high sock and bit into the silky skin freshly exposed, finally allowing you to scream breathlessly as more fire was added to your body.

This time he didn’t drink so heavily, merely sipping from your quivering thigh, choosing instead to smear it up to your cunt to mix the liquids together. The moan that slipped from his lips was sadistic and hedonistic. Pleased and eager as he lapped at the growing pool of bloodied cream. Over the wet smacks you could hear a distinctly damp rhythm further down. What sounded like Crocodile angrily fisting his cock to your taste as you came again with a broken cry.

Snarling, Crocodile flipped your body over, shoving your thighs apart and ass up.

“P-P-Please, O-Oh! I-I want you so bad—my lord please g-give me your cock I’m burning alive—take me! T-Take me-Oh~!” You keened as Crocodile loomed over your body, cock burning against your dripping cunt. He slammed into your ass, hook slipping around your throat and pulling your head back. Crocodile sneered down at you as he fucked you, panting and snarling as you cried. “C-Cro—hng~!” He deliberately pressed his hook against your throat, cutting you off.

“I never said you could have the honor of using my name, slut.” Crocodile snapped his hips furiously, splitting open your sopping wet cunt mercilessly, “It’s lord to you. Not that titles matters when your moaning like a whore. My whore that likes it when I squeeze your throat, don’t you? Go on. Answer me, my lady.” His hook left only to be replaced by his firm hand.

You gasped and moaned for air between his thick cock breaking your body and his harsh grip around your throat.

“Y-Yeee—ahn-hngh~ mmmmm—aaahh-hah-oh! Oh~!” You jerked as his cock brushed over a sensitive spot again. Crocodile laughed harshly, finally letting go of your throat as your orgasm rushed through your body, soaking his thighs. “YES! AH-hah-Oh! Oh! M-My lo—aaa-hah~!—Lord! Mmmmm-my lord—yes, please! Please, harder—Yes! Yes! Y-Yess—oh!” Crocodile’s grip on your hip was bruising as he drove his cock into your body harder. Just as you asked.

“W-What a polite lady I have the pleasure of having tonight. So pretty on my cock. My wanton little whore~” Crocodile cooed, still fucking you hard. “What a waste of a cute little cunt—empty until I came along. Aren’t you thankful for your lord? Providing you with everything you could never have before?” You nodded, drunk as another orgasm built up in your body. Blood burning bright still.

“Y-Yes, I-I’m so grateful to y-y-OooooH~!” You threw your head back with a sharp moan, “M-My lord—Please! Please give it to me—I-I’m still burning up I need more~!” You keened attempting to bury your head into the mattress.

Swiftly, Crocodile slammed into your cunt. Arms winding under your thighs as he picked you up against his chest. His hand fixed back around your throat like it belonged there. He squeezed as you cried out at how deeply his cock rested in your body, your moan turning into a strained gurgle as he bounced you on his length.

“You’ve hardly earned that, lovely. Only ladies get what they want. Whores make do.” Crocodile squeezed hard as he thrust up into your body ruthlessly. Using you for his pleasure. “Feel that? Not me fucking your pretty pussy—that fire? It won’t stop until I say so. Because this body? Mine. These lips? Mine. This tight cunt? Mine. And you have to earn it. Batting your eyelashes won’t get you anywhere with me. Beg.”

Like a fucking monster, Crocodile squeezed your throat harder. Cutting off any attempt at communicating before you could start. You could only weakly moan and bear down on his cock as he fucked you stupid. Hoping that he would take mercy eventually. He couldn’t go forever, could he? You jerked uselessly in his hold as you squirted. Every orgasm hitting you harder as he kept your from even screaming.

Anytime he slowed down he started to ease up on your throat, tempting you to speak. And you barely managed to let his title slip before he rammed his cock into your body and squeezed you again. And again. Dragging you over the edge repeatedly as you lost all sense of time. There was only the ever intensifying burning fire in your blood as you creamed.

Finally, you’re cock-addled brain had a different idea.

“B-Bite me! Bite me!” You yelped just as his grasp tightened. He faltered, his thick cock throbbing hard in your walls.

“What did you say?” Crocodile snarled into your hair, releasing your throat.

“Bite me. T-Take everything—I want it so bad. Your fangs-your cock—I-I’m yours, right? Then bite me.” You begged breathlessly, gasping for air while you still could. You screamed when his cock was ripped from your overstimulated body. Your knees shoved onto his shoulder as he hovered over you with a manic grin.

“I will.” Crocodile dipped his head down as you exposed as much skin as possible. Slamming his cock into you as his fangs pierced your flesh. Hard and faster than humanly possible, your lord railed into you. Your cunt slapping against his thighs with harsh, wet slaps.

Crocodile raced against your beating heart, attempting to drain you dry before you came again on his cock. Drinking down your blood with a heady moan as you screamed, jerking under his body as he slammed into you. Thrusting softly as hot, thick cum filled your abused cunt. Cooling the fire as he groaned into your neck. Panting, you weakly pet his hair. Eyes sliding shut as he slipped his tongue over your pulse with a groan.

Birdsong and a burning fire in your stomach greeted you. The curtains were drawn tight, only the barest streams of daylight visible. Something hot and slick slipped into your cunt as you moaned softly. Weak and dizzy, you could only roll your hips into the sensation. Firm lips pressing into your clit as thick fingers crooked into the walls of your pussy. Your orgasm swept by gently, but you got the distinct impression you fainted for a moment.

When you opened your eyes properly, you nuzzling into a firm, bare chest. Head tucked on a muscular bicep as someone stroked your hair. The scent of a cigar was thick in the air, along with sex and blood.

“Go back to sleep, little lady. I’ve sent for a hearty breakfast—you’ll need every drop you can get.” Crocodile groaned low in his chest, “You taste fucking divine.” You curled your fist against his chest and hummed. Pausing at the unfamiliar weight of metal on your ring finger.

“Hm? Wha—hng—what’s this, my lord?” You asked, pulled back slightly to take a look. It was a gold wedding band with delicate carvings along the side and studded with red gemstones. A large diamond on the top the obvious centerpiece.

“I know I fucked you hard, little lady, but I know you know what a wedding ring is.” Crocodile laughed, exhaling smoke before removing the cigar from between his lips. He pressed a kiss to your temple. “You’re mine, remember? We’ve eloped. How scandalous of us, huh? Papers already all in order. We can throw a big to-do about it later if you’d like. Might make you work for that though… hmm… then again, fucking you against a pulpit before our wedding sounds nice. A vampire and his pretty, innocent bride, bent over in a wedding dress…” You laughed softly.

“Not sure I’d be considered very innocent now.” You admitted, pressing a kiss to his chest. “…Vampire?” You asked, causing Crocodile to scoff.

“Of course! What kind of a weirdo do you take me for? Or did you think I was a kinky fucker that liked blood?” You peaked up at him from under your lashes with a sly smile.

“I distinctly remember you finally cumming inside me only after sinking your teeth into my neck, my lord.” You nipped his chest, “So I’m pretty sure you’re a kinky fuck regardless of your mortality.”

Crocodile gave a sharp bark of laughter, yanking your head back and sneering around the bud of a cigar.

“Yer a sassy little fucker, ain’t ‘cha? I’d fuck it out of ya, but I don’t think you’d be conscious for most of it righ’ now.” Crocodile said from around his cigar, speech muddled somewhat.

“You can try. What’s mine is yours, after all.” You taunted. “I don’t think I imagined you drinking from my cunt earlier this morning either.” Crocodile snorted.

“Damage control. My spit makes pretty little ladies like you heal faster.”

“Oh, so does that mean you’ll have to give me more bruises later?” You blinked innocently. Crocodile snarled softly, but his eyes were bright with promise.

“You know what? I think I just might.”

[sir-crocodile-slut]

You will love me for it.

My first collab ever! A huge special thanks to @stulili for drawing our perfect man💕

TW: rough sex, slight dub-con, hair pulling, choking, dom/sub relationship, slight bdsm, light blood, marking, knife/hook play, degradation (name calling)

Word count: 2.5k

The heels of your shoe clicked up the steps to the fanciest restaurant in Alabasta. Crocodile led you to the table in the back, never stopping to speak with a hostess, but why would he when he practically owned the place. He pulled out your chair for you and gently pushed you to the table, placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder. You blush and gaze out the window, the sun setting over the desert shined a warm orange across the restaurant, and as it sank behind the sand, you had the most beautiful peach tone to your cheeks. You look back to your date, his slick-backed hair and the symmetrical scar seemed to glisten in the now-starlight. Crocodile stared into your eyes with admiration and lust, undressing you in his mind. How could he not, you were wearing the finest fur shawl over a sweetheart-cut velvet dress.

The waiter waltzed over to your table with two leather menus with Crocodile’s favorite wine. “Good evening Mr. Zero, and good evening to the lovely lady,” he said with a warm smile. He poured the two glasses and set them in front of each of you, but as he was placing the bottle on the table, the glass bottle accidentally hit your plate. The red juice spilled all over your chest and lap, the waiter’s faced turned ghost-white, fearing the worst from you or the mysterious gentleman. At first you were shocked, Crocodile had a vein popping out of his forehead, looking like he was about to burst with anger. The red on his face was richer than the wine dripping from your dress. The waiter profusely apologized, the sorrys pouring from his mouth like a waterfall. He grabbed a cloth napkin from the table and began frantically dabbing your shoulders, chest, and lap. You sensed your date’s anger from across the table, as he was about to stand and shout at the poor waiter, you just told him that it was okay, and laughed it off to calm the vibe. The waiters hands were still on your body, frozen and shocked that you weren’t about to scream at him for his mistake. You laughed and informed him that it was okay, you could wash the dress and dry clean your fur. He sighed with relief as he took the dirty cloths away, apologizing again, and leaving you two to look over the menu.

You got most of the wine off your skin, no longer feeling sticky and wet, and as you sipped your water you locked eyes with Crocodile. His face no longer flushed, but his eyes seemed off, like he wanted to say something but choosing not to. “Are you okay?” You asked, feeling like you did something wrong. “Yes. Everything is fine. Please get whatever you would like to eat.” He said with a stern voice as he focused on the menu. You sunk into your chair, feeling embarrassed but glossed over the dinner options before deciding on a salad.

You both ordered your food and ate in silence, while it was delicious, it left your stomach in knots. Crocodile patted his mouth with the cloth napkin and placed it on the table. “Come.” You obliged and quickly stammered behind the tall man, one of his steps was about four of yours. Your shoes clicked on the tile leading outside onto the sand pathway, muffling the sound.

Not too long after you arrive at Crocodile’s front door, being opened by one of the many servants working in his home. “Good evening Mr. Zero, did you have a lovely dinner?” They asked kindly, but were ignored as he kept walking to his room, and you sheepishly followed.

You clicked on the marble floor toward his bedroom, leading to a plush Persian rug through a mahogany door, peering in to see if he was waiting for you. You walked inside only to see his empty bed and hear him already in the shower. Worried about disturbing him and making the night more awkward, you sat at his desk and waited patiently.

It felt like an eternity but the water finally shut off and you heard him step out of the shower. The door opened and released the built up steam, fogging the room. A large silhouette appeared in the doorway, growing bigger as it came closer to you. You stand up, still slightly stained by the wine, but excited to finally shower. As he approached you, a strong force swiped across you, your cheek tingled and felt hot to the touch. You grabbed your face with tears building up in your eyes. He struck you.

Moving your head up, eyes locking with his, but instead of sorrow or regret, his were filled with rage. “Do you know why I did that?” He asked calmly. You were speechless, never been hit before, especially by someone you thought cared for you. “… no” you replied softly, fighting back the tears.

“You disrespected me. In public nonetheless,” he said as his face got closer to yours. His tone was seething with rage, and while you felt scared and small, a warm feeling built up inside of you. “You embarrassed me in front of my subordinates,” he said pursing his lips. You’ve never seen him this angry before, scaring you while arousing you. With each step he took toward you, you took one back, your ears still ringing from the strike. He kept persisting until your back bumped the wall, nowhere else to go. His hook raised up, sliding down the wall, screeching slowly until he rested it on your cheek, softly caressing you. Crocodile leaned into your ear, the scent of his cologne falling into your throat as you gasped quietly. His breath caused the hairs on your neck to rise, goosebumps overflowing your body, “but do you know why I feel disrespected ?” He asked as your breathing quivered and you choked on your words, “n-no… what did I d-do?”

“You let another man touch you.”

Your eyes widened, “you’re upset over the wine spill?” You asked surprised, a smirk appeared on your face, thinking he was just messing with you.

Within the moment a smile showed on your face, his large hand was entangled in your hair, fingers grabbing from the root. “How. Dare. You.,” his hand tightened with each word. “Who do you think you are? Do you enjoy letting other men have their hands all over you? Are you nothing but a whore?”

Each word felt like a knife to your chest, your head beginning to pound from the hair feeling like it was being ripped from your scalp. The smile on your face was long gone, but the warm feeling inside grew larger. He glared daggers into your eyes and said a strong but quiet words,

“I will fuck you up, and you will love me for it.”

You pressed your knees together and breathed deeply to calm down. Crocodile looked at your legs, and back up to your eyes, cocking an eyebrow. “You aren’t serious. You like being treated like a whore?”

The small smirk returned to your face, “only if I’m treated as your whore… sir.” You flashed a little smile as the feeling rose in your stomach as his hook slowly dragged down the back of your dress, snagging the zipper as the fabric fell to the floor. Your body was completely exposed to the tall man, feeling vulnerable and small, but you loved it.

Your soft, sweet skin, still with some red blotches and spots trailing down your arms and shoulders. Crocodile leaned down with soft kisses, slowly trickling from your hand up to your neck, finishing off with a rough bite. The pain was sharp and overwhelming, it felt as if he was a wild animal, you opened your mouth to yell, but before your protest, he shoved the backside of his hook to your throat. Air trapped in your lungs, you tried to pry him off but it was no use. Your chest felt tighter and tighter as you tried to gasp for air, tears formed in your eyes again, and as you looked sympathetically into Crocodile’s golden eyes, he only pushed harder.

It felt like he was looking through you, like you were nothing more than a plaything, and he didn’t care what happened to you. Struggling to breathe, your instincts kicked in and began panicking. You tried pushing and kicking Crocodile off before you passed out, and the feeling was creeping into your core. On the verge of seeing black, he took back his hook and you dropped to your knees, coughing and crying.

He looked directly down at you, seeing how pathetic you were, you swore you saw the corner of his lips move. He liked this.

Before you could finish catching your breath, you felt a large weight pressing on your neck. You try to crane your view to see what was happening, but the force pressed you down to the floor. Crocodile’s foot pushed onto you, putting you in your place. “Are you going to apologize for what you’ve done, dear?” He hummed as he added more weight to his stance. The pressure made it difficult to breathe, let alone speak. All you could muster was a breathy exhale apology. “S…. Sir… s… sorry…”

He released his foot from your backside and listened to the melody of you coughing and gasping for air once again. Before you could stand to meet his gaze, he commanded, “crawl.” He walked over to his bed and sat at the edge, waiting for you.

Your hands and knees felt the harsh chill of the tile, and each movement was hard and cold. But knowing that you were crawling for a warlord kept you hot. You seductively moved one after the other until you were at his feet once again, pulling yourself up at level with his crotch, covered only by a plush towel. You kissed slowly up his thighs and saw out of the corner of your eye an expression that you longed for, a smile on his beautiful face.

The towel grew the closer you got to his center, while looking him in the eye, you took the plush with your teeth and tossed it to the floor, exposing the dark-haired man. His cock sprang up, nearly hitting your face. You locked eyes with Crocodile, and a silent message was shared between you two. You smirked and lowered yourself onto him, your tongue dancing around his tip, feeling him shutter around you.

Your tongue wrapped around his cock, up and down and swirled around, and pushed yourself down until he hit the back of your throat. In that moment Crocodile couldn’t control himself, he immediately grabbed the back of your head and pushed himself down your throat. You gagged and tears formed in your eyes but you loved how he was taking advantage of you. He thrusted into your throat and didn’t care about the noises you were making. His hook cradled the back of your skull and his hand directed your mouth, being manhandled made your panties like a waterfall. Crocodile knew you were craving more, so was he, and with a final thrust into you, he then pushed you off only to grab your hair again and throw you to the bed.

You landed on the mattress with some strands of hair falling beside you. Your tits squished onto the fabric before trying to get up, but Crocodile was faster, using his hook to rip off your soaked panties. The cold breeze hit your pussy like the slap from soon before, but knowing you were exposed to such a powerful man was nothing but thrilling.

Your body was craving for him to fill you up, bending on your hands and knees, pushing your wetness to his groin. He took his cock and traced around the outside of your needy hole. “I know you want me, all the dirty sluts do, so tell me how badly you need me, he purred as he continued teasing you.

You were going crazy, dizzy from arousal and you needed to fuck like a feral animal. You whined for Crocodile’s cock, but he commanded you to tell him. “Beg me like a good fuck doll or I’ll leave you naked outside to show everyone what a tease you are!”

His roaring threats were overwhelming, you melted to a puddle under is command. You pushed yourself onto him more and yelled “Crocodile I want you to fuck me like a worthless whore! I need your cock to fill me up and to use me as you please. Please Sir I need you inside me please please please….”

“Good girl.”

Just as the words hit your ears, his cock thrusted inside of you, his hips slamming into your backside. The moan that escaped your throat echoed down the hallway, you were sure his servants and maids could hear you now. But you didn’t care. You wanted them to hear, you wanted all of Alabasta to hear.

The feeling inside you grew and was nearly overflowing, you felt you were going to cum but didn’t want this moment to end. Crocodiles giant cock continued to stretch you to your limits. “Sir please, please pull my hair and treat me like your toy,” you muttered between thrusts, and heard you loud and clear.

Your breasts bounced with each movement, his hand forcefully grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled so far back your neck was completely exposed. Distracted by the pain on your head, you were surprised by the cold metal tracing the front of your throat. You loved how it felt like ice on your warm skin, but Crocodile wanted to push you further. As his hips continued to slam into you, the tip of his hook sunk into your neck, leaving a beautiful crimson line like a silk ribbon choker on your throat. Feeling drops warm liquid pour down your tits, dripping onto the sheets.

Your voice was hoarse from moaning and begging, and you feel your climax ready to burst, and Crocodile was close too. After seeing you beg for more pain and his cock, he couldn’t contain himself and as he thrusted into you one final time, his hook scratched your back and cum filled you up. Feeling his warm liquid inside of you, you follow suit, moaning his name as your body shook and grasped the sheets until your knuckles were white.

You both collapsed onto the bed, breathing heavily. You rolled over to him, seeing his pink cheeks and sweat beading on his forehead. You leaned into him for a soft kiss, he caressed your cheek with such dainty love and care, you couldn’t help but smile. He smirked back, tilting his head back to admire his work, the bites and cuts on your neck, the bruises on your thighs, and the handprint on your face. You swooned at the thought of being marked by Crocodile. You may look like a beaten slut, but you were his slut, and you wore those marks as a badge of honor.

“I told you I would fuck you up, and I know you love me for it.”

[zoros-bandana]

helloooo!!! i was reading all your posts and fell in love so i wanted to ask if you would make a zoro nsfw inspired by dress by taylor swift, it's one of my favorites songs and i think would suit him. it's already my favorite blog 💗💗💗

Ahh thank you so much, angel 💗💗💗💗💗 My little swiftie heart screamed when I read this! I woke up to this message and instantly had to write it out I was so excited! This is the best crossover to exist! I tried to write it out like the song but story form so I hope it worked out well (I may or may not have included another song in there somewhere hehe)

Dress

(NSFW)

Warning: mentions of vaginal sex/bruising

Summary: sitting next to Zoro in the aquarium bar, you both drunkenly reminisce about the nights you shared and love you have for each other.

Word Count: 900

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You sat quietly next to Zoro, watching the rest of the crew as they talked and danced through the aquarium bar. You smiled, remembering how you were mere hours earlier; crossing your legs over to hide the rough bruises on your thighs.

Zoro took a sip from his drink, his face glasses over in his usual monotoned expression. He didn’t say a word, his eyes flickering over to you every now and then to make sure you were okay. You wish you could reach out to him; to touch him like you did behind closed doors. To have him hold you with the crew around. You wanted to share everything with him without secrecy.

Earlier that night, it was a completely different story. There was no secrecy about your actions. He pinned you under him against the mattress, your name calling out from his lips over and over through long moans; like he wanted the crew to hear who belonged to him. His voice was deep and rumbling against your ear, creating such a delicious wetness between your legs as he rutted into you. He hiked your dress up around your waist, not wanting to waste more time before he got to have you; his hands digging into your thighs leaving harsh purple kisses.

You sighed, looking over at him, meeting his soft grey eye. It were still but you knew behind it he wanted you as much as you wanted him. There was a lustful burning desire he only shared with you and it was inescapable. You took a sip from your wine, intoxicated, watching him do the same. You could tell from his relaxed muscles he was drunk and you longed more than anything he was only drunk for you. When you first entered the party, Nami had cornered you, spitting out questions about you and Zoro to which you had no response for. Although the questions stung, you knew more than they dared asked about. Any claim that the rest of the crew made about you two weren’t true; and the both of you knew enough of each other to ignore their swift remarks.

You tapped your fingers against the chair, holding back from jumping to him. It was like an invisible string that kept pulling you to him; and you couldn’t resist fighting against it. You wished nights like these consisted of more than a knowing look; you wanted to talk with him free of judgement. Free to love him without fear. He refused to do more than small talk around the crew; keeping your private life exactly what it was.

When he was with you earlier, pressing bruises into your skin, he couldn’t keep himself quiet. He walked into your room, not prepared for the sight that would send him overboard. Seeing you in such a tight-fitting dress, hugging you so delicately drove him feral. He watched you move around, the fabric creating a sea around you almost elegantly. It didn’t take him long before his lips caresses every inch of your skin; begging for more of you. His voice echoed through the room; almost like a call you never wanted to end. The rocking under you as he gripped the bedpost sent your bodies into a delicious rhythm guided by friction.

When you first joined the crew back at Alabasta, you both were two different people. You had narrowly escaped the Baroque Works alongside Robin. And while he didn’t warm up to Robin he instantly trusted you. You weren’t sure of yourself of your place in the crew but he always assured you of your place here; making you accept yourself and your newfound crew. He picked you up when you were in the lowest parts of your life; as you did for him after Thriller Bark. After your time apart as a crew you began your affair. It was a different story than before; waking up in his bed, his strong arms wrapped around your naked frame. It was everything you ever wished you could share with him. But you selfishly wanted more. You didn’t want to be a secret, stealing kisses and glances behind closed doors.

“(Y/n)” Zoro mumbled, pulling you from your thoughts. You hummed in acknowledgment of his call, your heart stopping at his word, letting you know he had your full attention; as he always did. He studied you carefully, his eye lingering on your lips momentarily before moving on, burning into your skin as he looked you up and down. You knew wearing green would send him crazy. You knew he would get the message; that you belonged to him. You wouldn’t want to belong to anyone else; the dress symbolising your commitment and love for him.

His eye trailed over your skin, admiring the faint bruises of his handy-work you forgot to cover. Flashing back to the way you called to him as his lips traced over you skin; your nails tracing down his back. His eye moved down to the dress you wore; the straps placed gently off your shoulder. The silhouette making you look angelic to him; and he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He needed to hold you; hold some part of you. He reached out, lacing his fingers into yours, squeezing gently; smiling at the one person he truly loved the most.