#sir crocodile romance

[fanaticsnail]

When We Wake

Masterlist here

Word count: 1,300+

Synopsis: Blissfully waking within the arms of your lover, you are both struck with the thoughts of how precious you have become to one another. Whispering confessions of adoration to one another while the other slumbers, you are both completely overcome with such deep devotion.

Themes: established relationship, sir Crocodile x reader, gn!reader - non gendered descriptors, suggested nudity, kisses, confessions of love, sir Crocodile is soft for you, romance, romantic imagery, morning kisses, lazy kisses.

Notes: @carrotsunshine wanted a lovestruck Crocodile to read when she finished work today. I had no choice, my hands were bound and I stayed up past midnight again getting it done. While Croco is not one of the regular characters to write for, I did find myself falling for him a little in this fic. @since-im-already-here suggested the song, because smol-snail is a queen. Was written on my phone.

Tag list: @sordidmusings @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @cinnbar-bun @i-am-vita

Song: Until I Found You - Stephen Sanchez, Em Beihold

Falling asleep, content within the arms of a lover is a luxury Sir Crocodile never knew he could afford. Although extremely wealthy, he deemed himself unworthy of such an exuberant opulence. For all his shortcomings in his youth, clawing with his right hand while grappling with his left hook to be within the lap of comfort all Berry could buy: this small slice of the heavens he carved for himself with you was priceless.

It was not so dissimilar for you. You had never known a love as passionate, as heated, nor as deep a connection as the one you shared with Sir Crocodile. He was your world, and you were his. These few moments together, before the world drew first breath and the symphony of birdsong would sing to welcome the dawn, you lay in complete syncronancy.

Your heartbeats would thump to the same rhythm, your lungs extend as you drew breath in the same soothing inhale before softly exhaling in unison. If one of you shifted to rotate, splayed fingertips would search in yearning to find each other's warmth within the night: shifting blankets to adjust the heat for one another accordingly.

If you fell out of rhythm together, after a night of sound, blissful slumber, and one of you woke first: the other would gaze fondly at the lover they had taken.

When Sir Crocodile awoke first, his right hand would rise from its position against your hip, slowly raking his fingers delicately along your skin. His calloused hand was coarse and rough, but his fingers were always soft and gentle for you.

Finally, as his fingers reach your shoulders, he massages your shoulder tenderly before raking his forearm over your body and tucking your slumbering form firmly secured against his chest. His eyes were half-hooded, gazing with the softest flutter of his lengthy eyelashes down at you.

“You are so precious to me, my moon,” he whispered into your hair, pressing a tender kiss softly against your hair, “A bright light that guides me through such horrors within my darkened past.” You barely stir within your sleep, unaware such deep, devoted confessions were being freely gifted from the smiling lips of your lover.

“You are the blood that swells my heart,” his breath tickled your temple as his scarred cheek nuzzled against the crown of your head, “It would be too simple a thing to kill for you, as it would be to die for you.”

Unconsciously, your body began to burrow into his chest within your slumber. A soft moan expelled itself from between your lips as you reveled in the contact of your bare skin against his own. His final confession was whispered like a prayer into your ear.

“You command my very soul, my spirit is yours to do with what you will,” he smiled as he felt you stirring within his arms, “Should you toy with me, torture me, or choose to trust me: either way, I am yours, and I will live my life for you.”

Upon hearing his words, your immediate response upon waking was to press a kiss within the hollow flesh of his jugular notch. His breath hitched, his eyes fluttering shut as a rumbled groan in bliss swelled within his chest.

“As I am yours, my beautiful Crocodile.”

Should you find yourself to be the first to rise, your breath would hitch as your eyes met with his face. Within his slumber, he managed to break away from your embrace. Lying on his back, his hair splayed down over his face, you notice the deep furrow of his brows and the soft shudder of a snarl.

Softly and cautiously, you draw up your hands over his broad chest to hover over his face. The bright lightning-sheen of his healed scar illuminated within the soft light of the morning. You slowly lean over him, your chest lying flush against his as you straddle his waist.

You splay your forearms over his chest, elbows barely reaching the shoulders of the large man as you lay your ear flush against his chest. The rapid beat of his heart began to slow, a deep, sleepy inhale of his breath sucked in through his lips and departed softly through his nose.

“You are the most precious thing to me, my beautiful Crocodile,” you confessed your deep devotion into his chest, “No gold, jewels, nor Berry could ever meet you as equal.”

Sweeping your cheek away from his chest, you brushed your nose against his chest before beginning a trail of soft and lazy kisses over his pectorals. For each kiss you planted, a confession was whispered into his skin.

“You are the greatest man I have ever known,” you pressed a deep kiss against his clavicle bone, “Your fierce devotion to me is only outmatched by my own to you.”

The swell of his chest beneath your body indicated he was beginning to stir within his deepest rest. He sighed as he raised his right arm to unconsciously pull you closer into his chest. You elevated your chin to gaze up into his dark, violet eyes that had barely split apart between the curtain of his eyelashes.

“You are my closest confidant, my most ferocious protector,” you pressed a lengthy kiss against his jaw before brushing the hair that shrouded his face from full view, “You are all mine.” His eyes were sleepily gazing down at you, feeling the shift of your body flush against his own.

“As you are all mine.”

But should you find yourselves back within that perfect synchrony, on very rare occasions, your eyelashes would flutter as the world around faded into view. The world, as both of you knew it within your souls, was within the arms of one another. The only world that mattered to you both in those fleeting moments, before obligation and commitments called to you; was only, and always, each other.

As your joint eyelids rose together, your glassy orbs found their peace within each others' gaze. You were always the first to smile, where he was always the first to reach out to pull your body against his.

It was always up for debate as to who uttered those sacred words first. The three sought after and holy words that bound you together as one life, one body, one heart, and one soul. Those simple words that had the most mighty and hardened soldiers stutter and stumble over them in their fluster.

Immediately meeting with your smiling lips, Sir Crocodile swooped down and captured them beneath his own. Always slow, the angle of his jaw would alternate with his chin extending down and rotating to depict his heated passion. The bridge of his nose brushed against your own, the rumble of his moan expelled within your mouth as yours fled into his.

Parting your lips, you sought out more contact with your body pressed firmly against your passionate lover. You hooked your arms over his neck as he braced his right arm and left forearm around your waist.

He rolled you over his chest, before using the propulsion of the swinging motion of your body to pin you beneath him. You squealed into his mouth in shocked joy, his lips never breaking their deep contact against your own. With your lover now between your legs, you clawed at his shoulders to tug him closer.

The deep furrow of his brow, and sharp inhale of breath through his nose, had you enchanted by his enthusiastic welcome to commence the day. Almost begrudgingly, he finally split contact away from your lips to smile down at your position beneath him.

Taking a moment to silently acknowledge each other, you slowly laced your hands within the ink-black strands at the back of his head just as he leaned down to press his forehead against your own. Your whispers were almost inaudible, this confession being so scared you both dare not present it to undesirable ears.

This confession was just meant for only each other, your lips brushing briefly as you both relayed your devotion in perfect, unified symphony.

“I love you.”

[thebunnednun]

Tempted to touch! Men of One piece x Fm! Reader (Multi Character fic)

Pairings: Ace x Reader, Shanks x Reader, Mihawk x Reader, Crocodile x Reader, Smoker x Reader

Synopsis: Can someone write like a lil thing for Ace, Shanks, Mihawk, Crocodile and/or Smoker or any One Piece character (secretly) seeing their S/O being able to whine (dance) and having crazy waist control (being able to bounce their ass without movin anything else)? 🧍🏻‍♀️

A little something for @mororona who gave me the prompt.

Use this song: Tempted to Touch by Rupee

I'ma also tag @fanaticsnail I know you're sick rn, and I hope this helps, I added ben for you! Plus you love dancing and this music.

As a caribbean latina, I couldn't resist.

On with the show!!~

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Ace

The ship's corridors echoed with the distant sound of music, drawing Ace's attention as he passed by [Name]'s room. His curiosity piqued, he couldn't resist the urge to investigate. Quietly, he approached the door and peeked through a crack. What he saw took his breath away.

[Name] stood before the mirror, bathed in the soft glow of the room's ambient light. They wore a simple tank top that hugged their curves and shorts that accentuated their toned legs. The music pulsed in the air, setting the rhythm for their movements. With each beat, their hips swayed with an otherworldly grace, their waist seemingly moving independently of the rest of their body.

Ace's jaw dropped at the sight. He had never seen [Name] like this before—so carefree, so alive. His heart skipped a beat as he leaned against the doorframe, unable to tear his gaze away. A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, a mixture of amusement and admiration swirling in his chest.

"Damn," he whispered to himself, his voice barely audible over the music. He crossed his arms, feeling a rush of warmth spreading through him. "I never knew you had those kinds of moves," he thought, his mind buzzing with excitement. He watched in silence, savoring the intimate moment.

As the music faded into the night, Ace lingered a moment longer, committing the image of [Name]'s dance to memory. With a soft chuckle, he straightened up and continued on his way, a newfound appreciation blossoming in his heart.

Shanks

The Red Force sailed smoothly through calm waters, the gentle lull of the ocean providing a rare moment of tranquility. Shanks, ever drawn to the call of adventure, found himself wandering the deck in search of excitement.

As he strolled along, the distant strains of lively music reached his ears, beckoning him like a siren's song. Curiosity piqued, he followed the melodic trail until he came upon a secluded corner of the ship. There, hidden from prying eyes, he discovered [Name].

[Name] stood in the embrace of the sea breeze, their form swathed in a loose-fitting sarong that billowed around them with each movement. The soft fabric accentuated their every sway, casting shadows that danced across their skin like fleeting whispers.

Shanks, ever the playful observer, couldn't help but grin as he watched from behind a nearby barrel. His eyes widened in awe as he beheld [Name]'s dance, their waist moving with a fluidity that seemed to defy the laws of nature. Each motion was a symphony of grace and control, weaving a tapestry of enchantment that ensnared his senses.

"Well, well," he murmured to himself, his voice lost amidst the music's intoxicating melody. His heart quickened with a rush of excitement as he continued to watch, his admiration mingling with a newfound sense of desire.

As the last notes faded into the night, Shanks remained rooted to the spot, reluctant to break the spell that had enveloped him. With a soft chuckle, he finally emerged from his hiding place, his grin widening with each step.

"Someone's been hiding some talent," he remarked, his voice laced with playful teasing. He approached [Name] with a glint of mischief in his eyes, ready to share in the dance they had unwittingly revealed.

Mihawk

The courtyard of Mihawk's imposing castle was bathed in the soft glow of twilight, the air heavy with a sense of quietude that seemed to envelop the world in its embrace. Mihawk, ever the solitary figure, made his way through the shadowed corridors, his footsteps echoing faintly against the stone walls.

As he passed by a window, a flicker of movement caught his attention, drawing his gaze. Through the glass, he beheld [Name], bathed in the ethereal light of the setting sun. They wore a fitted top that hugged their curves and leggings that accentuated the elegant lines of their form.

The distant strains of music reached Mihawk's ears, a delicate melody that seemed to dance upon the evening breeze. And dance they did—[Name], with a grace that transcended mortal bounds, moved with a fluidity that spoke of hidden depths and untold mysteries. Each movement was a testament to their skill, their waist control impeccable, their every motion precise and mesmerizing.

Mihawk stood in the shadows, an enigmatic figure shrouded in darkness, his keen eyes fixated on [Name] as if they were the only star in a vast, empty sky. A rare smile tugged at the corners of his lips, a whisper of admiration that lingered like a wisp of smoke in the still air.

"Remarkable," he whispered to himself, his voice barely more than a breath against the canvas of the night. In that moment, amidst the quietude of his solitary vigil, Mihawk found himself captivated by the hidden depths of [Name]'s abilities, drawn to the allure of their silent dance like a moth to flame.

In the courtyard below, [Name]'s movements flowed seamlessly, each gesture a tantalizing blend of strength and elegance. The fading light cast long shadows that danced along with them, creating an almost otherworldly spectacle. As they twirled and spun, their eyes briefly met Mihawk's through the window, a spark of recognition passing between them.

For an instant, time seemed to stand still. The world outside the castle walls faded into insignificance, leaving only the unspoken connection between the two. Mihawk felt a stirring within him, an unfamiliar but not unwelcome sensation. It was as if [Name]'s dance had unlocked something deep within his stoic exterior, a flicker of warmth in the cold recesses of his heart.

[Name] continued their dance, unaware of the profound effect they had on the man observing them. Their movements grew bolder, more daring, as if sensing the intensity of Mihawk's gaze. The music swelled, and with it, the emotions that had been carefully kept at bay.

As the last notes of the melody faded into the night, [Name] came to a graceful stop, their chest rising and falling with the exertion. Mihawk remained in the shadows, his expression contemplative. He knew that this moment, this dance, had changed something within him.

Stepping away from the window, Mihawk made his way back through the corridors, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. The quietude of his castle had been shattered, replaced by a new and intriguing possibility. The allure of [Name]'s silent dance had left an indelible mark on his soul, a mystery he was now determined to unravel.

Sir Crocodile

The echoes of Crocodile's footsteps reverberated through the empty corridors of his stronghold, the weight of his recent meeting still heavy upon his mind. As he neared his quarters, a faint sound reached his ears—a melody so delicate, it seemed to hang in the air like a whispered secret.

Intrigued, Crocodile followed the sound, his curiosity piqued by the mysterious allure of the music. It led him to one of the spacious rooms, where he found [Name] dancing in the soft glow of candlelight. They were clad in a stylish ensemble that hugged their figure in all the right places, accentuating the graceful arc of their movements.

Silent as a specter, Crocodile lingered in the doorway, his keen eyes fixed upon [Name] with a gaze as sharp as the blade of a scimitar. He watched as they moved with a fluidity that seemed to defy reason, their waist swaying with a skill that mesmerized him. Each movement was a testament to their prowess, a silent symphony of elegance and finesse.

A predatory smile curved his lips, a silent invitation lingering in the depths of his gaze. "Remarkable," he whispered to himself, his voice a husky murmur against the canvas of the night, a flicker of amusement dancing in the depths of his steely eyes.

[Name] spun gracefully, the light playing off their form in a tantalizing display, each motion drawing him in further. The candlelight caressed their skin, creating a shimmering halo that only added to their allure. Crocodile's eyes followed every move, every sway, as if committing them to memory.

With a silent nod of approval, Crocodile made a mental note to compliment [Name] later, in his own subtle way. But for now, he remained rooted in the shadows, content to bask in the intoxicating beauty of their silent performance. There was a predatory grace in the way he observed, a sense of possession mingled with admiration.

As the music reached its crescendo, [Name] executed a final, breathtaking spin, coming to a poised stop. For a moment, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of their breathing, the air thick with the lingering echo of their dance.

Crocodile stepped forward, his presence finally known. The movement was deliberate, almost languid, like a predator approaching its prey. "You dance beautifully," he said, his voice low and smooth, carrying a hint of the power and danger he wielded so effortlessly.

[Name] turned, their eyes meeting his, a spark of something electric passing between them. The dance had ended, but the night had only just begun.

Smoker

The ship creaked and groaned as Smoker made his rounds, the steady rhythm of his footsteps echoing through the corridors. His ever-watchful gaze swept over the decks, his stern expression softened only by the glow of his cigar.

As he passed a door slightly ajar, a faint melody drifted out into the hallway, luring him like a siren's call. Intrigued, Smoker pushed the door open a fraction and peeked inside. What he saw took him by surprise.

[Name] stood in the center of the room, bathed in the soft glow of lamplight, clad in comfortable workout clothes that hugged their form in all the right places. The music pulsed in the air, setting the rhythm for their movements. With each beat, their hips swayed with an otherworldly grace, their waist moving with a precision that defied logic.

Smoker's eyes widened in astonishment as he watched, his cigar dangling forgotten between his fingers. He took a long drag, the smoke swirling around him like a wisp of shadow. Despite himself, a look of admiration crept into his stern features, softening the hard lines of his face.

"Well, I'll be damned," he muttered to himself, his voice barely more than a whisper against the backdrop of the music. In that moment, he found himself captivated by the mesmerizing rhythm of [Name]'s dance, drawn to the raw power and grace that radiated from their every movement.

The way [Name] moved was a tantalizing blend of strength and elegance, each motion more hypnotic than the last. Smoker's heartbeat quickened as he continued to watch, his breath catching in his throat. He had never seen anything quite like this, and the sight stirred something deep within him, a mix of admiration and an unfamiliar, burning desire.

With a silent nod of approval, Smoker decided to let them have their private moment, content to linger in the shadows and watch from afar. But deep down, he couldn't wait to see the look of surprise on [Name]'s face when he casually mentioned it later, a secret shared between them like a hidden treasure waiting to be discovered.

As the music swelled and [Name] executed a particularly daring move, Smoker felt a smirk tug at the corners of his lips. He could already imagine the playful banter they would exchange, the way their eyes would light up with that spark of recognition. For now, though, he remained in the shadows, savoring the intoxicating beauty of the dance.

Benn Beckman

On a different vessel, Benn Beckman strolled through the dimly lit corridors of the Red Force, the hum of conversation and laughter from the crew fading as he ventured deeper into the ship. A faint, alluring melody reached his ears, drawing him toward one of the private rooms. Curiosity piqued, he approached quietly, the sound of music growing clearer with each step. Balancing a tray with a steaming bowl of soup, he pushed open the door slightly.

Gently pushing the door open, Beckman found himself captivated by the sight before him. [Name] was in the center of the room, their form illuminated by the soft, flickering glow of candles. Clad in cute pajamas that accentuated their every curve, they moved with an elegance that left him momentarily breathless. The rhythm of the music guided their motions, their hips swaying with a hypnotic grace that seemed almost unreal.

Beckman leaned against the doorframe, his usually calm and composed demeanor giving way to an appreciative smile. He crossed his arms, his gaze never leaving [Name] as they danced. The fluidity and precision of their movements spoke volumes about their skill, each motion a silent testament to their mastery.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he remembered something important—[Name] was supposed to be resting in bed, recovering from an illness. A mix of amusement and concern flickered across his face as he watched them, clearly defying orders.

"Adorable," he murmured, the word a low rumble in the stillness of the room. His eyes followed [Name]'s every move, a mixture of admiration and intrigue shining in his gaze.

As [Name] continued to dance, unaware of their audience, Beckman found himself drawn in more and more. The way they moved was enchanting, each step a perfect blend of strength and grace. The soft light played off their form, creating an almost ethereal aura that only heightened the allure.

When the music finally came to an end, Beckman stepped forward, his presence no longer concealed. "You dance beautifully," he said, his voice smooth and warm. "But you were supposed to be resting, weren't you?"

[Name] turned, surprise evident in their eyes as they met his gaze. Beckman’s smile widened, a hint of playful mischief in his expression. "Maybe you can teach me a move or two sometime," he added, the suggestion laced with a subtle challenge.

For now, though, he was content to let them savor their private moment, the memory of their mesmerizing dance a new secret they shared.

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I wanna add more characters later, Lemme know what characters you want! DM's are always open.

To be posted on the ao3 account soon.

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. I have a fic for almost everyone here in the master list. Drop a follow as well if you please. Don’t be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.

I promise I bite~

Seen you soon my loves!!~ <<33

[galamalion]

˚ ୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ mihawk & crocodile spoiling you﹕

⤷ ⋆ * ˖ ౨ৎ ⋆ crocodile﹕

crocodile has gained an immense fortune in arabasta, meaning that he's taking you to lavish restaurants and expensive shopping trips whenever he can. if he's ever busy, he'll just hand you his black card and let you spend to your heart's desire.

gifts are a daily occurrence, mainly in the form of flowers or jewelry, but he prefers buying gifts with you in order to maximize your happiness with them, taking in your expressions and interest for future gifts.

he can't be there 24/7 on account of being the leader of a criminal network, but he does make an effort to be there during the evening, bringing you flowers and promising another shopping trip in the near future.

⤷ ⋆ * ˖ ౨ৎ ⋆ mihawk﹕

mihawk prefers staying in his enormous castle, taking you on garden strolls around the castle and having you taste vintage wine with him during dinner.

in the morning he'll lay a kiss on your forehead and deliver breakfast in bed for you, setting up plans for the rest of the day. he's always laying a kiss on your hand and escorting you, arm in arm around the castle.

he absolutely adores reading with you, even more so if you sit on his lap and let him read to you, wine glass in hand (which he lets you drink from as well). he'll whisk you off to bed afterwards, pledging his love to you on the way back to the bedroom.

requested by anon!

[texas-gothic]

It's kind of funny how well Cross Guild mirrors the Romance Dawn Trio. You have Buggy and Luffy, the outgoing dreamers striving to be the King of The Pirates. You have Zoro and Mihawk, the aloof swordsmen obsessed with their skills. And finally, you have Nami and Crocodile, a pair of jaded opportunists who see life as a business venture. I can't say where that parallel will go, if it goes anywhere, and is even really a parallel at all, but I did laugh when I noticed it.

[moongothic]

WAIT WAIT WAIT HOLD THE FUCKING PHONE

So normally we only get fullblown, extended and dedicated flashbacks for heroic characters in One Piece, the characters who we're meant to root for. The literal only TRUE exception we've had to this rule was Big Mom's flashback. Even fucking Doflamingo's flashback was tied to Law and Rosinante's

So the fact that we haven't gotten a single fucking GLIMPSE at Crocodile's backstory is?!?

Like sure, we haven't gotten like a Moria flashback, but you know, he literally told us all we needed to know himself, AND we got to see glimpses of him in the Wano flashbacks. Arlong didn't get a flashback of his own, but he did get to cameo in Fisher Tiger's flashback. And Rob Fucking Lucci got a flashback that was 6 whooping panels long

BUT CROCODILE?? Not only do we know almost Fuck All about his story, but also have never gotten as much as a glimpse at it? But his backstory has been HINTED and TEASED at multiple times??

GUYS. FELLAS

Like. I am SURE the "Full Backstories for Heroes Only" rule is going to get broken again, but with Imu and Blackbeard already there just BEGGING to have their beans spilled, can we even be sure Sir Fucking Crocodile is somehow going to become A Villain So Dangerous To The Narrative that he ALSO should also recieve a Full Fucking Backstory?? For his Nefarious Schemes?? AT THIS POINT??

Y'all

I think it's more likely Oda's been saving up Croc's backstory because it might just completely recontextualize his entire character

[mjrtaurus]

Not me re-watching the end of Alabasta, looking at those massive royal baths and going "Crocodile being invited to accompany Cobra to the royal baths and not being pressured to bathe but when he sees Cobra washing himself it's the most he's ever been tempted to get into the water in who knows how long" ndshbfvhdbvfhjd

Cobra, of course, offers for him to join in. He is an honored guest, after all.

And Crocodile… accepts. Not only would turning the offer down come across as rude (which would hurt his rapport with the Cobra’s trusted people), and it would make him seem weak (running away will only make people think that he is nothing without his devil fruit, and that is something his pride will not abide by).

Iva’s miracle working gave him the body to match his heart and soul, but it didn’t- couldn’t- erase scar tissue. So, if Cobra or any of his guards have anything to say about the crescent marks beneath his pecs, they are wise to hold their silence.

He does have to admit, the water is nice… clear, warm, and with a hint of lavender perfume. It melts the tension right out of him.

And perhaps that lack of tension is why- whilst he was going about the task of washing himself with one hand- he let Cobra help. At least with his hair.

And maybe that’s when Crocodile realizes that he’s been more than a little touch-starved for the last twenty or so years…

[beanghostprincess]

I saw the strawhats chronic pain asks and had a moment of CROSS GUILD CHRONIC PAIN-

Crocodile is an amputee. Like. Canonically. Phantom pains.

Mihawk has HELLA light sensitivity vibes ((I Gift him,,,,, my migraines))

And Buggy? Oh my favorite little punching bag, I bet the spatial awareness necessary for his DF must he OFF THE CHARTS, not to mention bomb making, harmful chemicals, etc, I feel it in my bones that he has an autoimmune disorder of some kind and also migraines bc the highest flattery I can give is projection.

Ignore this if you wanna, t'was just a Thought, love your blog, Bean!!!!!! ♡♡♡♡♡♡

YAY CROSS GUILD ASK I AM IN SUCH A CROSS GUILD MOOD LATELY YESYESYESYES!!!!!!!! And I'm making this romantic because if I don't make cross guild gay I might die. Thank you.

Okay, so what I'm hearing here is that they keep their lights real low on their shared tent, and whenever they have meetings: At the start of their business relationship, they're still learning how to get used to being together. Buggy is used to stage lights but only for a while and he doesn't want these two to know another weak spot of him (also the pain around his whole body is killing him sometimes), so he tries to deal with the migraines and being uncomfortable because he knows that complaining will only lead to these two using him as a punching bag. But lucky for him, Mihawk does mention one day that he hates brightness (because edgy vampire can't say 'my head fucking hurts' like a functional human) and so he says something about candles. Buggy is afraid they might set the tent on fire but he prefers this over the headaches. Crocodile doesn't give a fuck about this, honestly. Then, they start growing closer and y'know, I'll just skip to them dating- They're dating. They share a tent there at Karai Bari. And now it's something to do instinctively? Like they just keep the lights low or light up some candles and they just live like that. Whenever they're on a ship they do this too.

Following what I just said, they're affectionate but like, in a weird way. Because, y'know, look at them. Buggy ends up crying and complaining about his headaches and also when his body won't stop hurting. He's a drama queen, of course, a diva. He lives flashily. Cries flashily, too. He always curls up beside Crocodile so the big big comfy man can provide him some comfort and warmth and pats on the head or something. Crocodile just runs his hook through his hair softly and lets him be annoying for a while until he falls asleep on top of him. If he has to do something he just??? Won't do it??? He's a pirate but he isn't a fucking monster. One day Mihawk catches them and they share that look of understanding that only cat owners understand, because God (Nika is the only one I believe in, something something amen) is watching and if you dare to move when a cat's in your lap, you go instantly to hell. On the other hand, when Buggy cries and Mihawk is the one around, he gives him some painkillers and turns off the lights completely to then read Buggy one of his books. He does this without saying a word and the first time this weird, silent sign of affection happens, Buggy is speechless. And also, yes, Mihawk can read in the dark perfectly well because he's a cat. He sees in the dark. I even think Buggy can see his gold eyes staring at him. They're like the headlights of a car. Oh, and Mihawk deals with his migraines in perfect silence but when it's a bad day he gets into a very irritable and irascible mood. Most people would be complaining about it but at least this way he's more talkative? Somehow? He's a bitch to Buggy for a while and then they just talk shit about other people together while Crocodile makes a comment like "If you're well enough to complain, you're well enough to continue worki-" and it's, like, the and only time Buggy instinctively throws a pillow at him to shut him up. Never again, though. Scary mafioso-looking boyfriend.

Now that we're talking about Crocodile, the phantom pains: They stress the fuck out of him. They're painful and uncomfortable and he wants to strangle somebody. On a good day, that somebody isn't Buggy. And on a bad day, Buggy really tries to be the sweetest fucking thing on earth by making everything comfortable for him and disappearing right away. Maybe he starts an argument with Mihawk for something stupid but they make up later, it's fine. But, you know what? Sometimes he needs comfort and somebody to distract him too, so one day (when Buggy is about to disappear for hours so he doesn't end up suffering the consequences of staying too long with him) he tells Buggy to stay. The clown is frightened, but he does what he's told and- And it's surprisingly sweet? Crocodile just tells him to talk to him. Explain something. Anything. Complain about the fucking weather or tell a joke. Anything. And Buggy is genuinely surprised but ends up either talking shit about people or telling him anecdotes or just reading him the paper. And Crocodile seems to like it??? A surprise for both, really, but the man actually likes having the clown around because it is working really well as a distraction and when Buggy is not being annoying Crocodile realizes why he loves him. He loves him when he's annoying too, though, he bullies him out of love. Sometimes he just tells Buggy to come sit on his lap and stay there and Crocodile is still in pain but somehow being with the clown makes him feel better. Mihawk tries to be comforting on these days too but it's more of a "you ought to rest, otherwise you'll be irritable all afternoon and you cannot keep frightening the subordinates" type of silent care than anything.

Also, I want to add Crocodile almost murdering a man one day because they were doing business with him on his ship and he had a lot of lights on (when he was asked not to) and both Mihawk and Buggy were visibly uncomfortable the second they entered the room. I love protective Crocodile. He looks like he'd just murder men without any remorse for talking shit about the other two. I like it.

[eunoiasuniverse]

Would That I

This is chapter one of my fic Blue Moon It is a Mafia!Crocodile fic so this will be an 18+ fic MDNI

Words: 1.3k

When it comes to stressful situations, you are no stranger to it. You have 2 jobs and work every day. During weekdays, you worked at your main job as a caregiver at the local senior center. The weekends were spent working at an elite diner as a server. You didn't really like using your name as a server, so you simply went by dollface. It was something you were called by almost all your customers and a few of the seniors at the assisted living center. 

You were used to this life. It's how things were for the past 8 months. Rent has gone up at your shabby, run-down place. Although your family has had open arms with you staying with them, you wanted to pursue your dreams of being a nurse in a big city. It was a struggle but you are now doing amazing on your own. 

Today was a crazy weekend. It was busy for some reason. More men and more fancy people are sitting in your section, throwing out complex drink orders and then getting mad when there are too many ice cubes in their drinks. Your feet ached, your back started to hurt, and your arms felt heavy from carrying heavy food trays. Today was horrible and you were only 2 hours into your 6-hour shift. 

“Sanji, I need mashed potatoes with brown gravy, and please hurry, this table is on my last nerve,” you say as you set a tower of dishes in the sink. 

“Dollface, I'm trying my best here! We have a full house and a line out the door. Expect a mistake or two, mi amor,” he winked and slid a small side dish of mashed potatoes.

“Thank you,” you rolled your eyes and grabbed the dish. “Corner!” you shout as you walk out of the kitchen. You walked through the restaurant, weaving around the tables, avoiding guests and other servers. 

You drop the side dish off and walk away from the table. You watch the host set a group of men in your section and you groan. Waiting for the host to return to the stand, you went over and started pouting. “You double-seated me!”

“We’re having a full house and a line out the door, you're going to get double seated,” he said annoyed. 

“No, you idiot. We have a system. You have double-sat me all night and I'm getting fed up with it. I’m telling Zeff this shit you're pulling on me,” you snap and walk away to the table that was just sat. You pull out your tiny notebook and pen. Your lips turn into your best customer service smile and you greet the men, “Good evening gentlemen. You can call me Dollface, I'll be taking care of you all tonight! What can I get you all to drink?”

The men eye you and chuckle to themselves. They all say their drink order, and you write it all down. You spin on your heels and walk away, heading to the kitchen. Your smile fades and you slam the door open. 

“Zeff!” you march your way to the back and into his office. 

“Y/n, what can I do for you?” he sets his pen down and pushes his glasses to rest on his head.

“This stupid, naive host you hired is doing a dog shit job of seating. I have been double-sat over 5 times tonight. I understand we are busy and it's bound to happen once, ONCE! But over 5 times. It's pissing me off.”

He simply nods his head and leans back. “And what's the problem with that?”

“Wh.. what's the problem with that?! I have been sitting in groups no smaller than 5 since the rush started, I am running food constantly, and I am neglecting tables that are ready to order because I have to do trip after trip to a single table. The Baratie is an elite dining experience. Not a bar. Fix this or I quit.” you walk out of his office and start working on the drinks. 

You huff and walk out of the kitchen yelling corner as you carry the tray on your shoulders. You approach the table and smile, handing out the drinks. “Are you gentlemen ready to order?” you say tucking the tray under your arm.

“Steak, medium rare, doll,” a gruff voice at the table says. You look up and meet his gaze. The scar across his face makes you question what happened. He takes the cigar out of his mouth and puffs out the smoke, “why are you staring gorgeous? Am I ugly or something?” he chuckles. 

“No! So sorry, rough night…” you say quietly as you write his order down. 

Your mind is racing about this man in front of you. You've swear you've seen him before. You just couldn't figure out where or if it was him you saw. After everyone has stated their order, you walk back to the kitchen and hand Sanji your ticket. He looks at it and hands it to someone else. 

“I got kicked off the line. Zeff told me to take your place,” he says annoyed.

You stare at him with no emotion as you take your apron off. You slam it on the counter and walk out. You make sure to tell your tables that you are off and that Sanji will be taking over. 

“Sorry to bother your conversation gentlemen, but I am here to inform you that I am heading out for the night and the person replacing me, his name is Sanji, thank you for a lovely night and I hope you enjoy your meals.” you force a smile on your face. 

“You sayin' I don't get the chance to be served by a beautiful woman like yourself anymore tonight? A shame, I had high hopes for this evening,” the man with the scar states as he begins to sit up. He pulls out a wad of cash and sets it on the table. He straightens out his coat and walks away. He towered over you as he walked past you. He smelt like cigars, vanilla, and cedar. You clear your throat and walk away from the table. 

You walk back to the kitchen and grab your purse and belongings from the small area it was in. You tell your coworkers good night as you leave through the back. 

Your mind is swirling, your heart is pounding as you walk home. The way he looked at you, the small smirk on his lips as you approached the table, made your heart flutter and your knees weak. You throw your head back and groan. You're annoyed at yourself for feeling like this about someone. 

As the sun began to set, you were in your apartment making a small dinner and drinking more wine than you should’ve. You sit on an old chair you bought, watching the colors in the sky change until they're turning a deep violet, signifying it is time to retire for the night. Yet, you didn't want to go in. You enjoyed the breeze, the smell of the world around you consuming you. It was relaxing. Your lips rested on the glass in front of you. You stared off into the night, watching couples, kids, families, and people walking from store to store, shop to shop. It was oddly quiet, yet you had no problem with it. It was peaceful.

[chubbyreaderchan]

Dating Crocodile and acting as his secretary and like... Answering a call for him and since he's normally the one to call you so you are so used to saying "Love you bye".

And he comes to seek you out to ask you to go to dinner with him and you get a call for him. You answer and say love you bye to one of his people while he's standing there.

I feel he's either going to find it hilarious or be pissed and there's no in-between.

You'd get "punished" later though.

[silkendandelion]

*looks at WIP list, throws it out the open window*

SO I HAVE THIS IDEA—Who cares if it’s mid-January?

CHRISTMAS ONE PIECE, semi-long fic, and the pitch is:

Modern AU!Law and River are invited to Vivi’s wedding a few weeks before Christmas (not their first Christmas together but it’s early in the relationship), a swanky affair with all the fixings of drunk friends and obligatory rich business associates of Cobra’s that stop by to drop off gifts for the lovely couple.

Among them is Crocodile, who brings the most expensive gift by far, and stays just long enough to ruin Law’s day.

River, awkwardly slamming back champagne: “Law, this is Sir Crocodile… My ex-husband.”

Law’s live reaction, and the snickering Strawhats are still accurate:

Because I LOVE the idea of Law fulfilling the trope of the insecure lover who learns over the course of a story that they never had anything to worry about, no matter how rich, handsome, and terrifying their lover’s ex might be. (No matter how much Crocodile enjoyed seeing Law squirm)

[princessroyal95]

Daddy (Crocodile x Reader) [Spanish versión]

Advertencia: este capítulo contiene contenido sexual. Si no te gusta este tipo de contenido, no sigas leyendo, aunque eso implique que perderás información de la historia.

Es el buen momento para irme a mi casa y tomar un buen baño. Estoy demasiado tenso después del trabajo y necesito relajarme, mis músculos lo necesitan. Desde que soy dueño de Rain Dinners no he parado de trabajar para poner contento a mis clientes y así ganar mucho dinero. Ser el hombre más rico del mundo tiene sus ventajas, pero también sus inconvenientes ya que tengo enemigos que desean tener mi negocio.

Insensatos. No saben quién soy. Soy el afamado Crocodile, un miembro de los Shichibukais y un héroe ante los ojos de todo el reino de Arabasta. Que hipócritas que son. Si supieran cuáles son mis planes para conquistar esta tierra llena de hambruna. Por lo menos, no muero de hambre al igual que mis subordinadas. Al igual que ella. Mi mocosa. Me estará esperando con un buen plato de comida.

Cuando consiga mi objetivo, ella será mi reina. La futura Reina de Arabasta. Tendremos el mayor poder absoluto y un arma que puede destruir cualquier cosa. Solo espero que esa estúpida de Nico Robin encuentre el Polygriph, no me fío de ella ni un pelo. Sin embargo, esa morena se lleva bien con mi preciada ___. Solo espero que no la haga daño porque te aseguro que no dudaré en asesinarla con mis propias manos o, más bien, con mi propio garfio. ¿Cómo es posible que esa mocosa se haya fijado en mí? Casi no puedo tocarla por culpa de este artilugio.

Me siento vulnerable cuando estoy cerca de ella y más cuando dice esa palabra que me vuelve loco. Una palabra un tanto prohibida para cualquier persona, pero que para mí es excitante. Una palabra que contiene cinco letras y es música para mis oídos. Dios, ya con pensar en ello me he puesto cachondo. ¡Joder! Solo espero llegar a mi gran mansión y poder relajarme.

Y hablando de mi casa, sin darme cuenta, ya había llegado al sitio. Es una gran casa que me ofrecieron los habitantes de Arabasta por proteger sus tierras de ladrones y desalmados piratas. Son unos idiotas; sin embargo, se agradece su hospitalidad. Cierro los ojos al detectar aquel aroma que llega a mis fosas nasales. ¡Oh por Dios! Si es mi comida preferida. Esta niña sabe cómo ponerme de buen humor.

Sin remordimiento alguno, poso la mano en el pomo de la puerta y, seguidamente, lo abrí entrando ya en la casa. Que bien huele. Como se nota que es una gran cocinera. Pero no te preocupes mi bella mocosa, cuando seas reina no tendrás que preocuparte de hacer tus deberes. Ahora que me fijo, no ha llegado a darme la bienvenida. Eso es muy raro por parte de ella. Dejo mi gran abrigo en el perchero para luego dirigirme hacia la cocina encontrándome que estaba vacía. «¿Dónde se habrá metido?», esa es mi gran pregunta y ya me estoy preocupando.

Sin embargo, mis oídos se agudizan cuando escucho un grito proveniente de la otra habitación, más bien en el gran salón. Me dirijo hacia allí encontrándome con ___ intentando alimentar a un bebé cocodrilo. ¿Por qué dejé que lo adoptase?

—Eres muy malo, Banis. —Se queja la joven poniendo una mueca de dolor—. Al menos déjame darte de comer como es debido.

El pequeño cocodrilo no hizo ni caso por lo que camina en dirección mía apoyando su cabeza en mis zapatos. Siento un amor profundo ante esta especie, son las únicas criaturas a las que me siento identificado.

—Crocodile-san, no le había sentido, lo siento mucho—. Se disculpa ___ haciendo una leve reverencia.

—Veo que el pequeño Banis está siendo un revoltoso.

—He intentado darle de comer, pero rehúye de mi —dice apretando un poco de sus dedos. Clavo mi vista en ellas observando como unas gotas de sangre aparecen.

—Te he dicho mil veces que no le des de comer sin mi presencia. —Esta niña a veces me saca de quicio. Voy en busca de un botiquín para curarle esa herida fea. Por lo menos el cocodrilo no se atrevió a romperle un brazo.

—Pero es nuestro bebé, tengo derecho alimentarlo.

«Nuestro bebé...», esas palabras resuenan en mi cabeza una y otra vez como si tratase de una grabadora que tengo que escuchar unas mil más. Desde que estamos juntos, siempre me pedía en adoptar a un cocodrilo por mi afición a esta especie y porque es una criatura muy especial para ella. ¿Por qué debí de aceptar su petición? No quiero que salga herida por solo verla feliz.

—La próxima vez, si te arranca algún miembro, me avisas para castigarlo. —Lo digo con toda la tranquilidad del mundo mientras expulso el humo de mi puro y ya vendando la pequeña herida de ___.

—No seas cruel con él. Es un cocodrilo, su naturaleza es así.

—Pero no quiero que mi bella mocosa salga herida. —¿Di en el clavo? Puedo ver como tus mejillas se tornan rosadas. Eres tan inocente y pura.

—... ¡La comida! —grita ___ corriendo hacia la cocina mientras yo, como idiota, sonrío y decido seguir sus pasos.

—No te preocupes, eres una experta en la comida. —Mis palabras sinceras salen de mi boca a lo que me siento en la silla apoyando los codos en la encimera, queriendo observarla con detenimiento—. En el tiempo que estamos juntos no se te ha pegado ni quemado la comida.

—Pero me da rabia. —Pone cara de niña arrepentida a lo que apaga los fogones.

Solo esbozo más la sonrisa disponiéndome a leer un poco el periódico. La verdad con tantos negocios en mi vida casi no tengo tiempo como para echar un vistazo las noticias. Aunque la gran mayoría de ellas son causadas por mi o por mi organización secreta. Solo espero que mis planes salgan bien, falta poco para que se cumpla mi propósito y poder ser alguien más importante que ser un mísero Shichibukai.

Un perro del Gobierno es lo que me llaman todos los piratas cada vez que me ven. Pero no tengo mucha importancia en ese tema. Escucho unos pasos alejarse de mi a lo que bajo un poco el periódico viendo cómo ___ va colocando la mesa, ya emplatando los platos.

Me levanto de la butaca para dirigirme a mi asiento no sin ver al pequeño Banis acercarse a ___ acariciando las piernas de ésta con su cabeza.

—Oh, ¿viniste a disculparte? —La joven se agacha acariciando la cabeza de éste—. Sabes que mamá nunca se enfadaría contigo.

—Le estás mimando mucho —comento, sentándome ya oliendo el plato.

—Tú haces lo mismo con los que están en Rain Dinners. —Esta niña sabe cómo devolver la jugada.

—Touché.

Nos disponemos a comer con tranquilidad sin decir nada. Me encanta esta sensación de paz y armonía, algo que mi cuerpo necesita. Sin embargo, faltaba como un pequeño toque y es un buen baño. Mis músculos me lo agradecerán. Como me gusta la comida que prepara ___, lo hace por mí, por el amor que siente.

Pero mi disfrute de la comida se desvaneció cuando escucho los pequeños quejidos del cocodrilo. Me fijo que el bebé, con sus dientes hincados en el vestido de ___, tiraba de ella con fuerza como queriendo algo. Y yo sé que es lo que quiere.

—Mamá está comiendo, Banis.

Banis vuelve hacer ese gesto hasta unas lágrimas se sobresalen en el pequeño cocodrilo. Maldita bestia con cuatro patas.

—Mimoso. —Sin más preámbulo, ___ coge a Banis para colocarlo sobre sus piernas y comienza a acariciar el costado de éste.

—Pones más atención a él que a mí —dije sin tapujos mirando mal a ese endemoniado.

—Oh vamos Crocodile-san, es solo un bebé. —Pone una excusa la mocosa—. Necesita mucha atención y mucho cariño.

Desde que hemos adoptado al pequeño cocodrilo, todas mis atenciones se desvanecieron ya que ella se dedicaba en cuidar al desgraciado que está en sus piernas. Y cuando estoy con ganas de hacerlo con ella siempre tiene una excusa de que está cansada porque no paró de perseguir a Banis por no querer hacerle caso.

Hasta echo de menos aquella palabra que me gustaba escuchar de ella. Asqueroso roba novias.

Puede que sea tu mamá en tu vista de cocodrilo, pero es mi pareja y no tienes derecho a quitarme lo que es mío. ¿Acaso tengo que señalarte la marca que tiene en el cuello, cerca de la yugular?

—Crocodile-san, ¿son cosas mías o está mirando con cara de asesino a Banis?

Me pongo tenso cuando escucho la pregunta de ___ que todo mi rostro cambió repentinamente. Mierda, ¿por qué tiene que delatarme de esa manera?

—Son cosas tuyas, mujer.

—Veo que ha terminado el plato. —La joven se levanta cogiendo en brazos al bebé. Pero veo que esboza una sonrisa tierna mirando a la cría—. Y por lo que veo, el pequeño Banis se quedó dormido.

¿El condenado se durmió? Me fijo en el rostro del cocodrilo y, efectivamente, estaba plácidamente dormido. Raro de esa cría, es la primera que me encuentro de todas las especies de cocodrilos que es la más activa. Aunque una bombilla resurgió en mi cabeza. Esta sería mi gran oportunidad para poder estar con ella. A solas. Sin ninguna interrupción.

—¿Por qué no dejas a Banis en su estanque? Yo me encargaré de recoger la mesa.

—Vale. Enseguida vuelvo, Crocodile-san. —___ se retira mientras yo me dispongo a hacer la tarea.

De estas cosas recurro a la habilidad de la Fruta del Diablo, ya que con una sola mano es imposible recoger los utensilios y demás. Me siento torpe. Esos recuerdos aún están vivos en mi mente en cómo me amputaron la mano. Un escalofrío recorre por todo mi cuerpo mientras me toco la zona de la muñeca. Una extraña sensación de dolor y placer resurge desde mis entrañas a lo que esbozo una pequeña sonrisa.

Mis ojos se giran en dirección hacia la puerta de salida viendo que mi pequeña mocosa había vuelto del estanque y siempre con esa sonrisa que me gustaba de ella. Como me gusta verla de esa manera, sin tener pensamientos negativos. La felicidad es su droga principal y yo se la estoy proporcionando.

—Lavaré los platos —dice ___ acercándose al fregadero, pero sostengo una de sus muñecas para que me mirase.

—Estoy un poco exhausto y mis hombros necesitan un poco de atención.

—... ¿Quiere que le dé un masaje?

—Exacto —exhalo el humo de mi puro sin dejar de mirarla. La sonrisa de la joven se ensancha más como si le hubiera gustado la idea.

—En cuanto termine con los platos me pondré a darle el masaje, Crocodile-san.

—Bien, entonces... —Alzo su mentón con mi garfio queriendo tenerla cerca de mi rostro—, te esperaré en el baño. —Como me gusta ver tus mejillas poniéndose de ese color y con un rostro un tanto inocente.

Me alejo de ella entrecortando la respiración de ambos a lo que me dispongo a subir las escaleras dirigiéndome al baño. Mientras escucho como ella maldice al diablo por dejarla en ese estado tan vulnerable. Oh, mocosa, yo soy el mismísimo diablo en persona. Con esa idea en mi cabeza sonrío como un bellaco hasta que llega al punto en que me río como si no hubiera un mañana.

Ya estaba enfrente del baño. Realmente era amplía y con una gran bañera que hasta podía caber perfectamente el pequeño cocodrilo o una persona más grande que yo. Abro el grifo dejando que el agua caliente caiga sobre éste y una pequeña gota cae en mi mano. Gracias a mi habilidad lo absorbo; sin embargo, es una gran debilidad ya que me deja vulnerable ante ojos de cualquiera.

Retiro el puro de mi boca apagándola en un cenicero que se encontraba ahí y me dispongo a quitarme la ropa. Siempre elegante mostrando lo caballeroso que puedo ser, aunque con mi ropaje para que soy un mafioso. Y en el fondo lo soy. Soy un hombre con muchos pecados. Un hombre que ha visto la muerte del "Rey de los Piratas": Gold D. Roger.

Un rey muy afamado por todos los piratas y alguien a quien se tenía respeto. Y ahora todos van en buscar de ese tesoro que al principio me llamó la atención, pero mis ideas se esfumaron al convertirme en un perro más del Gobierno. Tuve que soportar a esos desgraciados al igual que mis compañeros. Ya dentro de la bañera apoyo la espalda en el borde relajándome por completo. Que sensación tan agradable, lo echaba de menos. Aunque, falta una cosa.

Y como si mis pensamientos fueron escuchados, ___ abre la puerta dando pequeños pasos en el interior del sitio. Mis ojos se clavan en el cuerpo de la joven o más bien en su vestido deseando que se lo quitase.

—No ha esperado por mí, Crocodile-san. —¿Eso fue un modo de echarme la bronca?

—Mi cuerpo lo pedía a gritos, ___. —Acerco mi cuerpo hacia el otro extremo de la bañera apoyando los brazos en éste para verla mejor.

—Voy a darle el masaje. —Me fijo que estaba preparando unas pequeñas butacas para uno poder sentarse. Oh no, niña, no entiendes. Esa inocencia en ella me reproduce algo de gracia a lo que una pequeña risa escapa de mis labios—. ¿Qué tiene gracia?

—Yo pensaba que me la ibas a dar dentro de la bañera. —Unas cuantas hebras de mi cabello se esparcen por mi rostro y, de nuevo, las mejillas de ___ se tornan de color rosa, pero esta vez, más intenso.

Las pequeñas manos de la joven se posan en aquel vestido que le regalé hace un año celebrando nuestro aniversario. Ese traje le queda tan jodidamente bien que me daban ganas de arrancarlo con mi propia mano. Mi lengua pasa por mis labios humedeciéndolos al ver que mi pequeña se había quitado completamente aquel traje dejándola semidesnuda. Me encanta ese conjunto de ropa interior, le queda condenadamente bien, la hace verse sexy. ¿Por qué no lo reconoce? A ojos de cualquiera es una Reina.

Y ahora, ya desnuda por completa, una Diosa divina. Recuerdo la primera vez que la vi sin ropa debajo mío tiritando de miedo y cubriendo cuanto pudiese sus partes íntimas ya que le daba vergüenza en que la viese en ese estado. Ella en su mente creyó que no me gustaba lo que veía, al contrario, me excitaba tenerla así. Tan sumisa y perfecta, y más intentando disimular aquellas mordidas que provocaba en su cuerpo. Aunque ella no se quedaba atrás, arañándome la espalda como una gata y dando leves mordidas por mi cuello. ¡Mierda! La tengo dura como un condenado.

Se acerca con timidez a la bañera y me alejo para que tuviera suficiente espacio para incorporarse. Se mete por completo en el agua dejando su cabeza fuera de ésta. Ya recogió sus cabellos antes con una simple coleta. Niña, me estás tentando en cogértelo y obligarte a que gimas.

—Crocodile-san —Su voz, tan suave como el sonido de las mareas, hace que me centre en ella—, ¿puede acercarse para poder hacerle el masaje?

Casi se me olvida del porqué la hice venir, aunque tengo otra cosa en mente. Eso lo dejaré para más adelante cuando haya recibido mi "precalentamiento". Ella ya estaba sentada en el borde de la bañera con las piernas casi abiertas, dejando ver su sexo. Ya me estoy planteando seriamente si recibir un masaje o probar aquel manjar que me vuelve loco y hace que ___ gima para mí.

Lo primero es lo primero. Me pongo de espaldas colocando todo mi cuerpo entre las piernas de ella hasta notar como aquellas manos se posan en mis cansados hombros. Oh, que sensación más agradable. Cierro los ojos dejándome llevar en este exquisito manjar que hace que esté tocando el mismo cielo. ¿Cómo me iba a olvidar de las exquisitas manos de mi bella mocosa? Explorando con timidez mi cuerpo bien formado con alguna que otra cicatriz provocada por batallas que tuve en mi época.

Tocando puntos que desconocía. Me estaba llevando al bendito cielo o más bien al infierno. Un gemido de satisfacción sale de mi garganta y, por un momento, sentí como el cuerpo de la joven se tensa. ¿Acaso no te esperabas esa reacción de mí? Ninguna mujer ha hecho que gimiera como un maldito, pero tú, no sé cómo, lo haces.

—Por lo que veo le está gustando. —Mi cara lo dice todo.

—Como para no gustarme, tus manos son exquisitas. —Apoyo la cabeza en su vientre descansándola.

—¿Cómo le ha ido el trabajo?

—Pues la verdad un tanto aburrido —confieso abriendo mis ojos para verla, aunque tengo unas vistas estupendas de sus pechos cubiertas por diminutas gotas de agua que parecen perlas a ojos de cualquier humano—, ya deseaba llegar a mi casa y estar contigo.

—Que tierno por su parte, Crocodile-san. —Un beso es lo que recibo en mi frente. Yo deseaba algo más que ese simple beso.

—___. —La llamo recibiendo su atención—. Ha pasado un mes desde que hemos adoptado a Banis y ya echo de menos tu cercanía. —Mis palabras son sinceras, nunca mentiría lo que siento.

—Está exagerando un poco, Crocodile-san.

—¿Sabes cuánto he deseado tenerte cerca mía y hacerte el amor las veces que haga falta? —Ahora su rostro es un poema y sus mejillas se incendiaron aún más como si estuviera a punto de erupcionar.

—E... Exagera. —Sus tartamudeos le estaban traicionando.

—Yo nunca exagero. —Me levanto de mi sitio estando a su altura y mirándola cara a cara. Apoyo la mano en el borde de la bañera como base de apoyo mientras que con mi garfio hago que alce la mirada para que me mirase a los ojos.

—Crocodile-san. —Un pequeño gemido escapa de sus labios y yo aguantando las ganas de besarla.

—Siempre me dejas en un estado de "enfermo". —Queda perpleja por aquella palabra que no entendía muy bien a lo que se refería. Pero sus ojos curiosos descienden encontrándose con una grata sorpresa a lo que su rostro se vuelve más coloreada y su cuerpo empieza a temblar—. Y siempre tengo que recurrir a la masturbación.

—Crocodile-san...

—Echo de menos tus besos, tus caricias... —Apoyo mi frente en la suya con los ojos cerrados—, tu boca en mi polla jugando con ella como si fuera un simple caramelo, tus gemidos provocados por mi causa. —Puedo oler a excitación en ella.

—Yo... —Y que se quede sin habla cada vez que digo alguna palabra sucia cerca de su oído me ponía cachondo.

Asciendo la mano sana para acariciar aquellos labios que tanto me tientan en besar. Tan carnosos y llenos de vida. Quiero volver a explorar su boca con mi lengua, deleitándome en una pelea con la de ella a ver quién domina a quien. Pero, lo que realmente echo de menos es una cosa que siempre me lo dice cuando estamos en una situación íntima.

Esa palabra se lo pedí que lo dijera porque, por alguna extraña razón, me encendía algo que ninguna otra chica pudo conseguir. Y ella lo hizo, deleitándome con esos gemidos y pronunciando aquella palabra. Quiero oírlo. Quiero que encienda la mecha que hay en mí.

—Dilo... —se lo suplico ya muy cerca de sus labios, quería que detonase la bomba que hay en mí—. Quiero oír esa suculenta palabra, ___.

Su cuerpo tiembla ante mí, por cada palabra, por cada susurro que digo muy cerca de ella haciendo que tenga pequeños espasmos y que su cerebro no funcione del todo bien. Su respiración se vuelve agitada y pausada como si necesitara algo de oxígeno en sus pulmones. Sus ojos dan ese toque de lujuria que a mí me encanta. Oh, ya conozco esa mirada. Vamos dilo sin miedo mi Reina.

Abre un poco sus labios para articular una palabra. Una palabra que lo anhelaba y al final lo dice:

—Daddy.

Ese fue el culmen de todo. El detonante que necesitaba para poder besarla como nunca. En un principio, fui algo suave pero poco a poco, los besos iban en aumento mostrando que mi necesidad era mucho mayor que antes. Solo quería demostrar que realmente la necesitaba más que nunca. Con timidez, rodea los brazos en mi cuello dándole un toque de intimidad entre ambos y yo, sin dudarlo, la acerco más a mi cuerpo queriendo sentirla.

No sé cuánto tiempo ha pasado, pero ya mis pulmones pedían a gritos un poco de aire por lo que me separo de ella y suspira agradeciendo que aún está viva por ese ataque tan repentino. Su rostro está encendido como la vela misma en donde sus ojos muestran ese toque de lujuria. Tan brillantes, deseosa de querer más. Mi pequeña se ha vuelto una pervertida. Se ha vuelto adicta a mí.

—Crocodile-san... —Aún da bocanadas de aire intentando regular su respiración—. Más...

—¿Ya te has olvidado como tienes que pedírmelo? —susurro con una voz ronca y varonil que hasta diría que el vello de la piel de la joven se erizó.

—Quiero más de Daddy. —Esconde el rostro en mi pecho mostrando de nuevo esa inseguridad y esa timidez en sí misma. Lo reconozco, al principio tiene esa conducta, pero ya cuando pasemos en los preliminares, cambia radicalmente.

—¿Qué quieres de Daddy? —La tiento de manera persuasiva mientras mi mano derecha va acariciando cada poro de su piel.

—Su boca para que me dé besos.

—¿Qué más? —Venga pequeña, yo sé que quieres más.

—Su... Su lengua pasar por mi cuello. —Al decir eso, ya mi lengua viperina estaba haciendo su labor, lamiendo el cuello de la joven buscando ya los conocidos puntos sensibles que hacen que se derrita—. Sus mordiscos... ¡Ah! —Ya me atreví a morder la zona de la yugular marcándola aún más.

Me encanta tener estas mordidas en su cuerpo. Un significado bastante tentador a ojos de cualquiera. Es mía y de nadie más, ella lo sabe perfectamente. Pero no solo me dediqué a morder esa zona sino le daba pequeños mordiscos alrededor de su cuello e incluso a su diminuta nuez donde recibo un gemido bastante gutural por parte de ella. Por Kami, echaba de menos ese sonido cada vez que la provoco con mis caricias, mis mordidas y cuando la follo como un animal.

Sus manos acariciando mis cabellos dándole un toque de mimo; no obstante, cada vez que toco alguna sensible tira o aprieta con fuerza de ellos dándome entender que le estaba gustando, que no parase en ninguna circunstancia. Y, claramente, no lo haré.

Con un toque de picardía, desciendo mi mano lentamente pasando por la zona del esternón en donde los pezones de sus pechos se erizan en seguida. «Demasiado tentador» y lo era, pero debo tener mucha paciencia, me estaba gustando torturarla de esa manera. Que sepa que he estado un mes sin ella y se merece este castigo severo. Ya mis dedos se encontraban cerca de su sexo pidiendo a gritos que lo toque, pero tenía otra cosa en mente. Ensancho más la sonrisa un tanto provocador a lo que ella me mira confusa y, sin esperarlo en donde un gemido de sorpresa sale de sus labios, doy una leve palmada en esa zona.

—¡Daddy!

—Como me gusta oírlo de tus labios.

—Eres muy malo. —Como tú dijiste antes soy el mismo diablo.

—¿Yo malo? Mira quien fue hablar. —Otra palmada y esta vez cerca de su clítoris. Ella simplemente arquea la espalda y gime más fuerte—. Estás cachonda, ¿cierto? —Afirma con la cabeza—. Te mereces un castigo por dejarme siempre con las ganas.

—No quiero castigo. Le deseo, Daddy. —¿Intentando convencerme niña?

—Yo también te deseo y demasiado —respondo con sinceridad notando como mi polla se endurece aún más queriendo poseerla en ese mismo instante—, pero tengo que darte un buen escarmiento.

Quiero que sepa perfectamente como me he sentido en todo este maldito mes sin poder hacerle el amor y solo tenía que conformarme en tocarme como un maldito poseso. Ya está bastante lubricada así que meto dos dedos de golpe recibiendo como sus paredes vaginales aprietan con deseo mis articulaciones. «Y si fuera mi polla no me quiero imaginar cómo se siente después de tanto tiempo», un gruñido gutural sale de mi garganta complacido y ella me mira queriendo recibir más de mí.

Los muevo con algo de lentitud para que se acostumbrara a ellos ya que lleva mucho tiempo sin recibir nada en su entrada. Está bastante cerrada, lo puedo notar, aunque poco a poco se va abriendo, dejando paso mi invasión queriendo recibir más. En cambio, ___ no para de gemir apoyando las manos en el borde de la bañera, su cuerpo tiembla por cada movimiento que daba que cada vez son más rápidos.

Su espalda va arqueando poco a poco entendiendo perfectamente que estaba a punto de venirse. Y yo, como el mismísimo del diablo, quito los dedos con rapidez dejándola en una sensación de frustración. Sus ojos comienzan a lagrimear por cortarle el rollo. Bienvenida a mi castigo, mi pequeña.

—Y estaré así hasta que supliques. —Doy un toque malicia algo que el cuerpo de la chica se tensa rápidamente.

—Por favor, Daddy, no quiero ese castigo. —Su voz la estaba delatando, agarrándome de los hombros—. Ha... Haré cualquiera cosa, pero no más. No me gusta ese castigo.

—¿Cualquier cosa? —Qué rápido has caído, pequeña. Y decía que yo era el que estaba desesperado.

—Cualquier... cosa...

Sumisa. Queriendo satisfacer los deseos más oscuros de su pareja o más bien de "Daddy". Y yo quiero hacer lo mismo con ella. Y un pensamiento vino a mi cabeza a lo que yo sonrío como un bellaco: «Cualquier cosa, ¿eh?». Me pongo de pie completamente mostrando mi verdadera altura y, así, dejando una buena posición de mi miembro cerca de su rostro. ___ se sonroja de golpe al tener ese gran trozo de carne enfrente suya. Hasta tengo la sensación de que sus ojos brillaron con más intensidad que antes.

—Si haces que me corra puede que deje de lado el castigo.

Detonante esa es la palabra exacta para ver como su rostro se ilumina con ilusión y acaricia con decisión miembro. Pero no era suficiente para mí, sé que sus caricias son buenas, pero falta algo que añadir. Y como si me hubiera leído el pensamiento, mi polla ya estaba dentro de su boca a lo que gimo con sorpresa. Tan caliente y húmeda. El calor que estaba teniendo no es causado por la bañera sino de mi cuerpo corporal, sintiendo como la temperatura va en aumento cada vez que ___ lo masturba con su boca.

Su lengua jugueteando con la punta mientras que sus manos acarician mis testículos. Dios, no me arrepiento en nada de haberle enseñado estas cosas. Poso mi mano en su cabeza impidiendo a que parase porque era exquisito esta sensación. Joder, como lo echaba de menos. Estaría así por toda la eternidad. Con solo el glande puedo tocar la campanilla de su boca ya que la mocosa intentaba metérselo entero hasta dar leves arcadas. Que ingenua es mi niña.

Me muerdo el labio con fuerza al mismo tiempo que mi mano sujetando aquella coleta sintiendo un pequeño hormigueo por debajo de mi vientre. Ya estaba a punto de llegar al orgasmo, tengo que mirarla, ver como recibe mi esencia en su boca. Cuando lo liberé, llenándola completamente, su rostro cambió a una lleno de deseo y de querer más. Se apartó de aquel trozo de carne que en unos segundos ya volvería a cobrar vida porque aún no estaba satisfecho. Ni siquiera escupió el semen, se lo tragó entero. Ya con eso me bastaba a que mi polla se ponga dura como una roca de nuevo.

—Daddy. —Me llama con deseo.

—Veo que te gustó mucho. —Sonrío tranquilamente mientras echo para atrás algunos flecos que cubrían su rostro.

—¿Y a Daddy le gustó?

—Joder, como para no gustarme. —Un gruñido ronco sale de mis entrañas.

Apoya sus manos en mis antebrazos haciendo el esfuerzo de levantarse ya que se siente gelatina en ese mismo instante. Su cabeza llega hasta mi vientre por lo cual es normal, ella mide como un humano normal y corriente y yo, en cambio, soy un hombre de más de dos metros. Acaricio lentamente su rostro viendo lo pequeña que es a mi lado y que necesita que alguien la proteja de cualquier peligro.

Hace el mínimo esfuerzo para acercarse a mis labios y yo, obviamente, me agacho para probarlos una vez más. Esta vez es un beso más tierno e íntimo para los dos. Si yo fuera ella, ya la estaría besando como un demonio, pero debo tranquilizar mis ansias de follarla ahí mismo. Cada caricia que me daba en mi rostro hace que todo mi cuerpo se relaje e incluso va tocando mis cicatrices de guerra. Ella es mi cura, ante todo.

La magia se rompe cuando ella decide alejarse de mí y de mi cuerpo dejándome con un sabor bastante amargo. Como odio que haga esas cosas sin que yo se lo haya dicho. Aunque hay un motivo: me da la espalda agachando un poco el cuerpo, apoyando las manos en la bañera, mostrando aquella posición que ningún hombre puede resistirse.

Una posición en donde ella es la perrita y yo el perro en celo que quiere poseerla.

—Daddy —gime pronunciando ese nombre para girar un poco la cabeza para mirarme—, quiero la polla de Daddy en mi... sucia vagina. —¿Qué es lo que escuché? Es la primera vez que dice algo así.

—Mocosa... —Es raro, pero de alguna manera, mi rostro estaba al rojo vivo por tal cosa. Nunca me imaginé, ni en mis sueños más húmedos, que ella diría una palabra sucia.

—¿No quiere follar a esta niña mala? —pregunta un tanto inocente y no se esperó que entrase en ella con rapidez sintiendo toda la extensión de mi hombría.

—Oh, claro que quiero y más cuando dijiste esa palabra tan sucia en tu boca. —Meto dos dedos en su cavidad bucal cogiendo su lengua—. ¿Quién te ha enseñado a decir esas barbaridades, cachonda?

—U... Usted... —Casi se ahoga al no poder articular palabra alguna.

—A veces se me olvida. —Doy una estocada fuerte recibiendo un gran gemido por parte de ___—. Repítelo.

—Daddy... mi... sucia vagina requiere su atención.

Un gruñido de satisfacción suena en mi garganta dando de nuevo otra estocada y está vez, más profunda que antes. Y aquí empieza ale vaivén que los dos estábamos esperando: uno salvaje y llena de fuerza que ni hasta los mortales pueden soportar. Y una cosa: «Muy apretada». Me gusta que esté así, tan apretada que es capaz de engullir perfectamente mi polla donde remarco aún más los movimientos.

Nuestros gemidos se vuelven ecos en el baño. El agua sale de la bañera por cada estocada que daba en ella, pero no me importaba que la casa se inunde. Estoy más centrado en esto porque ahora estoy en el verdadero paraíso. Ella gimiendo a los cuatro vientos diciendo todo rato "Daddy" y yo aumento mis movimientos a modo de respuesta. Mierda, si tuviera la otra mano ya estaría sujetando sus caderas como es debido, pero no es momento para pensar en esas cosas.

Mis ojos se clavan en la espalda perfecta de la chica, arqueando lentamente dándome entender que está a punto de recibir un orgasmo. No, pequeña, aún no. Detengo mis movimientos sacando mi polla de sus entrañas a lo que ella se queja de nuevo como antes hizo. Me miró con cara de frustración a lo que yo solamente le sonrío mientras me siento al otro extremo de la bañera, apoyando mi espalda en ésta.

Ella entendió el mensaje y con pequeños pasos se acerca a mí, y menos mal que no cayó en ningún momento porque las piernas le estaban temblando. Cabalgaba sobre mí y no le fue difícil en meter mi miembro dentro de ella. Y un gemido se nos escapa al mismo tiempo. Tener sexo en el baño no está mal, debería hacerlo muy a menudo. Para tener algo de apoyo, posa las manos en mis hombros y sube todo su cuerpo para luego bajar recibiendo una pequeña descarga en su espalda.

Excitante, ¿verdad?

Apoyo la mano derecha y la muñeca donde está mi garfio en su cintura dándole una pequeña ayuda extra. La verdad en ningún momento la he visto soltarse cuando lo hacemos en esta posición. Le daba vergüenza ser observada por mí mientras mis ojos están clavados en su rostro presenciando lo hermosa y excitada que se ve o en sus pechos que rebotan sin cesar. Oh, se me olvidaba mimarlos, no está bien por mi parte.

—¡Daddy!

Me dispongo a lamer, besar y morder aquellos pechos que siempre me vuelven loco, notando como mi mocosa va aumentando el ritmo gustándole esta sensación nueva. Hasta puedo decir que he dejado algún que otro mordisco en sus pechos, lo siento, son muy adictivos mi pequeña. Rodea los brazos en mi cuello clavando las uñas en mi espalda como siempre hace advirtiéndome que el orgasmo estaba a punto de llegar.

Ya se acabó el juego, hay que terminar. Me posiciono un poco descendiendo mi cuerpo estando en una posición perfecta para ambos y vuelvo retomar el vaivén frenético de antes. Eso es, gime para mí, nadie te va a escuchar aparte del hombre que te está follando como un condenado. Un hombre que ha estado esperando todo un mes para tener aquí y gritando como una loca. Y en cuestión de segundos, los dos llegamos al bendito orgasmo liberando mi semilla dentro de ella. Menos mal que por lo menos se está tomando las pastillas anticonceptivas, aún no estoy preparado para tener un hijo con ella. Es muy pronto y ella lo entiende.

Me reincorporo de nuevo donde ___ aprovecha para apoyar la cabeza en mi pecho recuperando el aliento mientras la mimo con mis caricias y mis besos.

—No recordaba... que tener sexo contigo... era tan espléndido.

—¿Ves lo que te has perdido en todo este mes? —Estiro el brazo hacia el otro extremo cogiendo un puro de mi cajetilla y un mechero, dispuesto a encenderlo. Necesitaba algo con que relajarme.

—Lo siento... debí de haber estado más atenta. —Se disculpa ocultando su bello rostro en mi bien formado cuerpo.

—___. —Con mi garfio alzo su mirada clavando sus hermosos ojos junto con los míos—. Échale la culpa a Banis, por favor. Es él quien me está quitando lo que es mío.

Una risa burlona se escapa de sus labios como si le hubiera hecho gracia.

—Crocodile-san, sabes perfectamente que soy tuya. —Señala la mordida cerca de su yugular—. Esta prueba lo dice todo.

—Pero ese travieso te mordió aquí —Alzo su mano viendo aquella venda en su dedo—, y esto me pertenece también. —Lo beso con ternura. Ella solo recibe un pequeño escalofrío.

—Es usted un poseedor de cosas.

—Más bien el alfa de la manada de los cocodrilos. —Otra risa por parte de ___. Me encanta verla así—. ___... si el plan sale mal... —No me dio tiempo para decir aquello que quiero escupir ya que selló mis labios con un simple beso.

—Si todo sale mal yo estaré ahí, amándote como nunca. Y si te capturan y te llevan a Impel Down buscaré la forma de sacarte de ahí y estar juntos.

Mi alma se calma al escuchar aquellas palabras. Es lo que deseaba oír en ese instante. Un abrazo reconfortante por sus bellas palabras.

—Te doblo la edad y la estatura. Soy un perro del Gobierno y...

—Algún día tú y yo seremos grandes reyes —Vuelve a sellar mis labios con los suyos—, y nadie podrá separarnos.

Nadie lo hará. Eres mi bella mocosa y yo soy tu "Daddy".

[crococock-love]

Isn’t there any love for Crocodile x Hancock?

[fanaticsnail]

Dreaming of You

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 1,100+, 1,700+, 1,700+, 1,400+

Synopsis: They couldn't help it. You looked so heavenly in their dreams. The way they had you wrapped around their body as a marionette in their minds, dancing for them as they awoke to sticky blankets when they jolted upright. Their thoughts got the better of them, and they are wracked with guilt. Sir Crocodile, Buggy, Dracule Mihawk

Warnings: wet dreams, afab!reader, swearing, masturbation, dub con (Using your image to masturbate to), suggestive content, feelings, all individual 'x reader' drabbles, same reader!insert different outcome, chop-chop fruit shenanigans, angst, romance, smut, kissing, NSFW, 18+, MDNI.

Notes: Dreaming of You Masterlist Here, Please read the warnings. I am having a lot of fun with this series, but this one got away with me. They're only meant to be silly little drabbles between larger fics. Sorry for the lengthy read! Enjoy playing the part of a marine spy for Cross-Guild!

Tag list: @sordidmusings @nerium-lil @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @indydonuts @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @carrotsunshine @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @lostfirefly

Hips pressed against one another, huffing pants and gasps were collected in one another's lips and skin as he pinned your back against the wooden wall behind the burgundy curtains of the tent door. Legs collected over his hips, he held your left thigh in his right hand, his forearm caging you by slotting up between your right shoulder and the cool surface. 

Lusting and passionate, he drew intentional thrusts that were slow and deliberate enough to brush at your g-spot and mold your pussy to the contours of his thick cock. He slacked his jaw, his eyes swimming with emotion as he ground his pelvis against your clit with every heavy thrust. 

Your voice whimpered for him, stifling your mewls of pleasure by biting down into his shoulder and crying as he bullied his cock into your needy pussy. He groaned with you, rocking his cock in slow, languid thrusts up into your body. 

“Please,” you begged him, desperately clawing at his back and peppering his shoulders, neck and jaw with enthusiastic kisses, “We don't have long until the others come back.” He growled at your words, offering you a particularly mean thrust forward and a cruel bite against your neck. 

“A-Aah!” you gasped in shock, biting your lip and digging your nails into his shoulders harder. He sheathed his entire length greedily into you, his shaft twitching in bliss the moment he felt his blunt tip brush your cervix. His hips stapled yours against the wall he was bullying you against. 

“I don't care if they hear,” he barked against your neck, tracing his tongue over the bruise forming from his bite, “I don't care if they see.” He pulled back his hips only slightly before immediately propelling himself forward and forging his body against yours like soldering iron to a hot blade. 

“Let them hear,” he admitted, huffing against your neck as he rocked his hips into yours, removing his hand from hooking around your thigh to grip your neck and bring your gaze to meet his. “Let them see.” He plastered your parted lips with his own, desperate with tongue and teeth as he released your neck to hold your thigh once more. 

“I want them to hear,” he groaned into your mouth, rolling your cheek with his chin and kissing down your jaw, “I want them to see.” He trailed his needy kisses down your neck as he doubled his effort and sped up his rhythmic thrusting. 

As your core sucked him in each time he retracted, his mind was lost to him and was filled with primal desire. He needed them to hear your sweet moans and whimpers. He needed them to see who was making you feel this good. He needed you to know who you belonged to. 

“Say you're mine,” he growled, his lips mouthing up your neck, over your jaw and to your cheeks, “Say it.” He sped up faster, his cock hammering into you with every cruel, frenzied thrust. His hair was sticking to the dewy sheen of sweat against his forehead and neck, his brows furrowed as he glared into your eyes with an intensity he had never felt in life prior. 

“Say you're mine,” he barked at you, commanding you to fulfill his desires as his cock twitched within you. Your walls beckoned him closer, the thump of your ecstasy wringing his cock as he pistoned it within you had him desperately whimper and whine your name. 

“P-Please say you're mine,” he implored you in desperation, his fingers clutching your thigh in a heaping fistful as he continued to chase your mutual highs, “Tell me. Tell me your mine, and I'll be your slave.” He begged, kissing your lips and panting through his thrusts, “I'll be yours. Is that what you want?”

He chased your mutual high faster, rocking and pummeling into you with his heels digging into the floor. His belt buckle jingled atop his pants pooling at his ankles, your own pants discarded beneath you long ago. Leaning down, he took your peaked nipple into his mouth and rolled it over with his tongue.

A string of saliva attached from his lips to the puckered bud when he pulled away, huffing and panting at the lustful display of your breathing hitching. Body bouncing in sultry ripples with each thrust, he groaned as he felt his abdomen tighten with a familiar call of his imminent release. 

“Yes,” you whispered his name suddenly, clutching his neck and carding your hands through his hair, “Yes, I want that. I want you-...” You whined his name as he pistoned his length deep within you, “Please, I'm yours. Only yours.” 

He growled his pleasure at hearing your words into your lips, tongue lapping with yours and his hair brushing against your forehead. You hastily tugged him away from your lips by gripping the scruff of his neck and pulling hard. 

“W-What? Why are you-?” He began, his words halted by the intensity of your gaze. Your lips were parted, face flushed from a higher rise of hazy temperature, and skin forming lustful bruises and mapping his treasure with his marking kisses. 

“Make me yours,” you gasped at him, panting as your lust eclipsed your eyes, “Cum in me. I want it. Need it.” His eyes widened, and his jaw fell slack as his hips staggered their vicious thrusting deep inside you. 

“Fuck, I-I’m gonna-...” His abdomen tightened further, his eyes glowing black with luminescent lust as his seed spilled inside you with hot spurts, “I'm cumming-... hhah-... I-I’m cumming…f-f-fuck-...” Rope after rope of translucent cum released within your walls, the rhythm of your own ecstasy milking him with squeezing grasps on his throbbing cock. 

You called his name, throwing your head back as he trailed his eyes over your skin with adoration within his bliss. He couldn't get enough, reaching forward to collect your lips beneath his in a scorching mess of lips, tongue and teeth. With a desperate kiss to mold him against you completely, he forged an unspoken covenant to ensure you knew you were his and he was yours. 

Opening his eyes, the image of your blissed out afterglow faded from his vision. All that he was met with was the ornate ceiling in his bedroom, his cock twitching through the final waves of untouched pleasure. 

“No,” he growled, removing his duvet with his right hand and glancing at the lustful dance his swollen cock twitched with. A last spurt of cum spilled from the glossy slit and he immediately thrust the ruined blanket on top of his stomach to shield it from his sight. 

“Fuck.”

Sir Crocodile 

He balled his right fist, slamming it into the mattress beside his hip with a rumbling growl in his chest. Inhaling deeply, holding it for a few seconds, and exhaling slowly had him assess all that occurred to him with his night vision moments ago.

“Please say you’re mine. Say you’re mine and I’ll be your slave,” his own voice echoed in his mind, “I’ll fall to my knees and worship you in all ways. I’ll treat you like the deity I know you to be, showering you in praise and praying at your altar. Please.”

“I’m yours,” you whispered with half-hooded lessons, “I’ll only ever be yours, Sir Crocodile. Only yours.” He snapped his eyes awake, clenching his jaw impossibly tight and drawing his brows down in fury.

“I begged?” he snarled, reaching for a cigar and his flint-lock lighter, “I begged to claim you as mine?” He clicked his tongue before biting down on his cigar, lighting the end with a small flame and sucking in a sour lungful of smoke, “Utterly ridiculous.” 

Pulling the duvet away from his lap, he growled at the sticky ooze pooling at his abdomen before squaring his shoulders and walking to the adjoining ensuite in his master bedroom. The Cross-Guild tent did not have many luxuries, but he refused to go without simple pleasures while working with the disgusting clown. 

A bath was one such pleasure Sir Crocodile would not live without.

Running the water, he dropped each foot into the tub and sighed out at the contact of the freshwater rising to his thighs. The heat and steam eradicated his shame from his abdomen without much effort, melting it down and washing it away beneath the water. Groaning, he looked to his absent left hand and gazed down at the scarred stump. 

“We don’t have long until the others come back,” he heard your voice echo within his mind, drawing himself back to the dream and causing him to grimace in annoyance. He circled his palm and fingertips over his left forearm and molded the flesh within a firm grip. 

The pains on his phantom limb had returned, his mind racing and attempting to draw up distractions by any means necessary. Your midnight illusion was simply the latest commodity to preoccupy his attention with lustful desires, is how he rationalized such a shameful intrusion. 

He was a fourty-six year old man, not some prepubescent teenager so consumed with the need to fuck that their minds dreamed it into an untouched and sticky reality. The pain intensified, his teeth clamping in a rough hiss as the illusionary throb of his hand caused him to shake his arm from his grip. 

This was going to be a long and tiring day.

At the meeting, he was being short and harsh with anyone and everyone to cause him displeasure. His teeth snapped barks, his chest rumbling his fury and his hair was beginning to become disheveled. The clown was aggravating, and the swordsman’s silence was not as refreshing as it was under usual circumstances.  

His right hand only ever left his left forearm for the chance to draw up a cigar, yet the sour smoke did very little to soothe his pain, and his hand only seemed to make the intensity of the throbbing worse. As Mihawk and Buggy stood to leave the room, he remained behind and he finally hissed out a lengthy growl behind his clenched teeth at the pain. 

There was not a sound in the room, a slight ringing in his ears as the pain reached his head and dizzied his mind. Eyes scrunched tightly shut, he had no context for a gentle touch on his hand over his forearm until he snapped his purple eyes up to meet with yours. 

“Allow me, Sir Crocodile,” your smile illuminated your face, gently suggesting with your touch to remove his right hand from his left forearm. He attempted to fight the urge to bark at you, snap at you and give in to his desire to have you touch him. 

“And just what do you think you’re doing, Marine?” he growled, eyes narrowing and lips curling up into a deep snarl, “Who gave you the right to touch me-?”

“Oh, shut up. You've been horrendous today and I refuse to have this continue to be cause for your disgusting attitude,” you bit back, your own lips pulling back to reveal your snarl, “Let go of your arm and let me help you, damn it.” He immediately dropped his arm in favor of gripping your neck in a tight choke, bringing your face closer to his. 

“You dare to give me orders, Marine?” he roared at you, your teeth gritting back the pain and glaring into his eyes. “I was a former warlord, little spy. Now I hunt and kill your kind for a living.” As Sir Crocodile monologued, he remained ignorant of your hands working to find the clamps of his prosthetic hook and releasing the golden cover from his arm. 

“And now you touch me, spy? Offering me what, exactly?” he continued monologuing as you removed his hook and rolled up his embroidered sleeve. The pain in his forearm was so intense he could barely feel any relief of tension come from releasing his limb from the confines of his hook. “How are you going to help-... A-ah!” He gasped, his brows tugging up in the center of his forehead as he glared at you. 

Immediately releasing your neck, he looked down at his bare forearm within both of your hands and bit back a whimper. In his own grip, his scarred forearm felt hot and throbbing beneath his cooler temperature. In your warmer hands, his arm felt encased in an encumbering embrace like hot stones sizzling on a damp surface. 

Your thumbs traced the contours of his muscles, dipping between his bones and rolling his muscle between your fingers. The heel of your palm added a tight pressure to his ache, his breath coming out in rough pants the longer you held him in a tight grip. His eyes softened, his scowl loosening from anger to pain. 

Hissing and panting, an uncharacteristic whimper fell from his lips as you silently focussed on working the flesh within your skilled grip. Circling your thumbs and contracting your hands, you instructed him with calming and soothing words. 

“Deep breaths now,” you whispered in a slow and intentional hum, “In when I squeeze, and out when I release.” He nodded his head, feeling the soft roll of your hands over his skin. As you tightened his grip, his chest expanded with a lengthy inhale and exhaled as you withdrew. 

Repeating that motion, he felt the tension in his mind begin to release him from his illusions. Focussing on your movements as your voice soothed him with each direction, he didn’t expect his emotions to overcome him at such kindness. Your hard contractions over his arm eased up, your fingertips tracing the scars on the vacant nub and causing his flesh to tingle beneath it. 

“Better, sir?” halting your soft motions, you gently placed your hand on his forearm and held faint pressure over his skin. Reopening his eyes, he felt tangible relief wash its way over his face. Gazing into your eyes, you held nothing but empathy and gentleness in your twin orbs. He leaned down over your face, bringing contact between your two foreheads and offering you the slightest of smiles. 

“Why would you do that?” he whispered in an uncharacteristic soft voice, “Touch me like that? Offer me such kindness after all that’s occurred between us?” He raised his right hand and cupped the back of your head in a firm grip to hold you against him. 

“You didn’t kill me the moment I stepped into the red tent,” you smiled warmly at him, “Nor did you kill me any day thereafter.” Giving his arm another gentle squeeze, you glanced down at his missing limb and offered him a melancholy smile. He growled at your confession, searching your eyes for a further explanation. You huffed out a sigh, smiling further with a soft twitch up your cheeks. 

“I used to do this for my friend back at the marine base,” you offered him a glimpse at your history with your explanation, “Did it all the way up until the day she died. Said something about my hands feeling warm against her skin, different to her own temperature. Soothing.”

He chuckled at that, nodding against your head and closing his eyes shut in momentary bliss. That was why you felt so good on his skin, your skilled motions causing him aid and relief. You have done this before, and were offering it freely to him. 

“Oh?” he asked, his smile tugging at his cheeks and elevating the scar over his face, “And did she manage to say what she did without you by her side to aid her?” You laughed at him, breaking away your contact from his forehead and scrunching up your nose playfully. 

“I was always by her side, sir,” you confessed to him, nodding as you spoke, “She and I were inseparable, even in cabin quarters.” He nodded in understanding, looking down to his limb and back up to your eyes. 

“Well, if that’s the only solution for the pain I’m encountering,” he uttered, his lips curling into a wide smirk, “I would see you gather your personal effects and move into my cabin beside the tent, immediately.” You laughed at him, rising from his side and beginning to leave the meeting room. 

“I hardly think that would be appropriate. Don’t you agree, sir?” you question him, collecting your bag from the circular table in the center of the room. As you moved to leave the tent, a strong forearm snaked around your chest and grasped your shoulder, tugging you firmly into a broad chest. 

“Wasn’t a suggestion, Marine,” he whispered into your ear, the smooth rumble of his voice shooting tingles up your spine and causing you to gasp. “You’re mine now. Hear me?” He grazed his lips over your cheek and down your jaw in a slow motion. 

“Mine.”

Buggy

“Oh, what the fuck?” his nasally voice huffed, his makeup free face flushing with a hefty sprinkle of dark blush, “You’re fucking kidding me.” He reached down to his cock and fisted it in a pistoning motion. 

“Had to be you, didn't it?” he cursed your name in a pouty snarl, “The fucking spy.” He swirled his cock in his palm, growling at it before he simply detached it with his balls and brought it up to his face. He frowned in a deep scowl, drawing up his heckles as he began chastising his cock. 

“C’mon, man! How could you do this to me?” He growled at his cherry-red knob, choking it in his fist, “You think this is fucking funny? You think I want to see ‘em like this?” He drew up his other hand and slapped his knob, his pelvis wincing in response. 

“Out of bounds,” he berated his cock, “The spy is out of bounds. You know the spy is out of bounds.” He pinched his knob, choking it and only making his pleasure heighten. “N-Nnngh-... Not for thinking about, not for trying to fuck.” 

He whimpered, his priorly ruined orgasm still gluing his duvet to his stomach. He growled, hocking a wad of spit behind his lips. He spat on his cock in an attempt to degrade himself further, only leading to lubricating his ministrations and causing him to throw his cerulean colored hair back into his plush pillows in bliss. 

“Hhah-... The spy is not for you, you fucking idiot,” he gulped his confirmation, his cock thrusting itself in his fist beside his head as he frowned at it, “Think about something else,” he closed his eyes, meeting the thrusts of his cock with his hand as he tried to think about anyone else he could sheathe himself in. 

“Buggy, I-I’m gonna c-cum-,” he heard your voice whimper at him, his cock twitching in his hand beside his face, “Buggy, please can I cum?” He shook his head, attempting to picture anything else. Faceless breasts bouncing, ripples of an ass jiggling, parted lips panting and huffing with eyes scrunched shut-... Your voice calling his name with adoration pouring from your lips like honey. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted, shaking his head and attempting to go back to the earlier images. He only pictured your hair, your skin, your perfume, and your lips behind his eyes. Those lips used to spell secrets, split in a perfect ‘O’ as he pictured you slicking his cock up in your needy cunt with your erupting ecstacy milking him of his heaping load. 

“Fuck! No, no, no, no, n-oooh!” He threw his cock away from his face to not shoot himself in the eye with his release. It spattered the wall in a secondary wave of sticky cum like a grenade exploding on impact. “Nnnngh-... F-Fuck. Fu-uck-... C-cumming-.” His abdomen contracted as he rode the remaining waves of his orgasm untouched and unstimulated. 

Ropes of guilt shot out of his small slit and coated the wall and floor in a sticky pile of pearlescent cum. He groaned your name, huffing and panting as his hips bucked up in an attempt to stimulate his detached cock. 

“N-... No…” he whimpered, bringing his palm up to his face and clapping it over his lips. “Not the spy. I can't-... I can't have the damn spy. They're a bloody marine, you fucking idiot,” he degraded himself further, rising from his bed and wiping his abdomen of the solidifying globs of sticky cum with his duvet. 

He reached his cock, staring at it as it looked like a pathetic, slobbering drunk as it lay in a pool of its own drool. He clicked his tongue at it, picking it up and dusting it off before reattaching it to his pelvis. Readjusting his balls, he found his red jumpsuit and messily thrust it over his body in one swell motion. Instead of throwing his arms through the sleeves, he tied the material around his waist and offered to remain shirtless. 

“Not the spy,” he whispered to himself as he exited his ornate living quarters at the Cross-Guild base. Making his way to the kitchen, he was halted by a soft hum reverberating around the room. 

A familiar somber tune painted the air with its melody, his eyes shutting and the corner of his mouth ticking up as he listened to the lyrics. Stepping into the room, he attempted to mask his nerves with his signature mischief written on his face. 

As he drew his eyes over your features, your back facing away and staring out the window by the sink, he couldn't help but have the mask of protection slip away. Your lips whispered the lyrics, your heart carried the tune. You were not in your marine uniform, nor were you adorning the attire Sir Crocodile purchased for your protection. 

You were dressed in simple, gray-coloured slacks that hung loosely around your hips. The top you were wearing was a cropped t-shirt with his Jolly Roger printed on the back. His lips parted in shock as he drank you in, listening to your soft singing and closing his eyes to experience it fully. 

Before he could manage to say a word to reveal his presence, your hums ceased and your voice lowly uttered your apologies. 

“Sorry, Captain Buggy,” you bow your head to him in greeting, “I was not assuming the three of you to be awake so early. If I bothered you with my noise, I apologize.”

“N-No bother,” he huffed your name and hastily gave his reply to you with a soft blush, “I-... I haven't heard that song since the old days. Way back when-... When Roger…” He trailed off, looking at a point just beyond your hips and against the sink beside you. 

“I love the old shanties,” you chased his gaze with your own, angling your chin down and attempting to pry his eyes up to meet yours, “They're either about drinking, fucking, or grieving.” Buggy met your gaze, grinning up at you with his teal eyes beaming. 

“Ah, two of my favorite pastimes,” he added his commentary, leaning in closer and a cheeky smile pulling at his cheeks, “I’m not one for fucking.” He shot you a wink, prompting you to laugh at his joke. Your laugh was music, each soft teeter was as radiant as a lilt from heavenly minstrels. After teetering off your laugh, he offered you a soft smile with his eyes wide and curious. 

“Would you mind…?” Buggy trailed off again, nervously clutching the back of his neck and cringing through his smile, “...Could you perhaps tell me why you decided to join us, again?” He released his hand from his neck and darted his eyes between yours. 

After taking a moment to collect your breath and mull over what it was he asked of you, shrugged and offered him a simple answer. 

“The Berry is good, and it’s mutually beneficial,” you nod at him, smiling with your answer, “You were the one who offered me a choice, remember?” Crossing your arms, you leaned your hips back on the sink and glared at him, “It was either: spy for the marines as a triple agent for your Cross-Guild with a livable wage, or have Crocodile or Mihawk take my head. I chose you, Captain.” 

As Buggy was reminded of his prior actions and offered you a sheepish smile in response. Stepping forward, he reached for your forearms and waited for you to flinch away or chastise him for such a soft gesture. In the wake of such a softness, he was pleasantly surprised when he felt your fingers interlace with his own and hold them beside him.

“You know, ‘m sorry ‘bout that,” he mumbled, looking to his toes and pouting his unpainted lips, “Didn’t mean t’ have it sound so bad.” You smiled in response, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze and angling your chin down to look at his uncovered fingers. 

“You know, you’re actually quite handsome,” you confessed in a breathy whisper, “The infamous Captain Buggy D Clown, genius jester, king of fools, and calamity of chaos.” You named his titles with a soft smile, looking up into his rainforest-colored eyes with such gentleness. 

“You-... You think I’m handsome?” He asked you, your soft laughter prompted his own to slip freely into the air. You unplaced your right hand from his left and cupped his cheek within your palm, running your fingers through his hair. 

“You’re usually dressed in makeup, with your long hair tucked under your hat,” you collected a strand between your fingers and rolled your thumb over the lengthy blue locks, “And, you usually don’t have this much skin revealed.” Looking down at his chest: his messy blue hair trailed down his chest, tapered off at his stomach, and picked up again like a cerulean trail leading to the assumed treasure beneath his red jumpsuit. 

“I’m not used to seeing this much of you, Captain,” you muffled, drawing your gaze back up to his with a rapidly broadening smile, “And I’m not mad about it.” Your eyes creased at the corners as you offered him a toothy grin in response to his vibrant blush.

The hue of his cheeks rivaled that of his nose and jumpsuit, his eyes almost weeping from the rapidly rising blood pooling in his face. His Adams apple bobbed at the compliment, gulping back a dry pit in his throat and swallowing it. 

“Y-You know,” he stuttered, chuckling to cover his nerves and squeezing your remaining hand in his in two short motions, “I… I take back my earlier sentiment, uh-... If you’re interested?” He continued stuttering and choking on his words as he clumsily cartwheeled around his intentions.

“Oh?” you smirked at him, raking your fingers through his hair and darting your eyes between his, “And what was your earlier sentiment again, Captain?” You trailed your fingers down to the end of his lengthy locks. 

He gulped his terror and humbled himself by offering you a short, huffed laugh. After taking a moment, his eyes twinkled in mischievous hope as he rejoined your eyes in a smiling gaze. 

“I am one for fucking…”

Mihawk

Amber eyes stared in horror at the ceiling, wide and unblinking as he replayed the final moments over and over again in his mind. He drew his right hand down to grasp around the steel girth of his deflating cock and wield it in his firm grip. 

“I want that. I want you, lord Mihawk,” You whined his name as he pistoned his length deep within you in his mind's eye, “Please, I'm yours. Only yours.” His breath hitched in his throat, his eyes twitching but remaining staring vacantly at the ceiling. Thumbing over the prior release, he hissed in agitation the moment his fingers collected his viscous eruption. 

“How fatuous,” he snarled, raising his duvet once more from his waist, “So puerile.” His face remained vacant, his eyes holding only a touch more agitation than his usual persona as he walked to his ensuite shower. Turning the taps, he didn’t wait to feel the rise in water temperature. 

Stepping into the freezing water, he made no reaction as the icy liquid pelted at his skin; not even blinking to dampen his rapidly drying eyes. The water began to elevate in temperature as he released his cock from the grip. Gathering his sandalwood soap bar in his hands, he began lathering himself in foamy suds and washing over his body with his shock and shame still evident on his features.

The only time he closed his amber eyes was when he washed over his face, scrubbing at his whiskered chin and massaging his cheekbones. As soon as his eyes closed, he only saw your face contorted in pleasure, your ethereal moans freely haunting him in his ears. Shaking his head beneath the water, he only saw your face and imagined your hands clawing at his back beneath the water. 

Horror and shock eclipsed his eyes upon reopening, his eyes remaining that way as he concluded his shower, dried himself off, applied his cologne and skin care products, and dressed himself in his pants and greatcoat. His fingers stuttered over the lacing on his outer greatcoat, his lengthy necklace almost choking him as he placed it over his neck.

Almost stumbling into the dining space, he searched in his mind for a reason something so juvenile could occur for someone of his age, standing, and stature. He had gone for so long without taking a lover, he barely felt any lusting urges overcome him anymore. It didn’t suit his routine, his monotony, or his lifestyle as a former warlord. 

His apathetic and bored stature coming from a place of loneliness in his sovereignty as World's Greatest Swordsman. His achievements were already so vast, and he had nobody to share them with - nor a desire to begin a courtship with someone akin to his title. He had no time to take a lover, no time to indulge in whoring as it took away from his duties tending his garden in Kuraigana, and his bounty collecting as Marine-Hunter for Cross-Guild. 

So, why did his mind replay your pleasure over and over again in a loop of falsified memory? The marine spy, the confidant to cross-guild, the whispering oathbreaker; all the titles he sought to bestow you with. His hands reached for the bottle in front of him, clasping the green glass in his hands and uncorking the waxy tip. Pouring the rouge liquid into a crystalline glass, he felt a presence to the side of him.

“Could you spare a glass for me, my lord?” your soft susurration drew his attention back to the present, prompting his eyes to flicker to you. He witnessed your soft smile, your gaze assessing his face and shoulders.

Wordlessly, he reached for another glass and began readying it for you. The dry liquid coated the glass, a soft drop spilling from the rim and down the stem which caused you to knit your brows in concern. 

“Everything okay, my lord?” you asked, reaching for a napkin and beginning to clean up the mess, “You seem out of sorts this morning. Berry for your thoughts?” You dabbed at the table with the wafer-thin paper and tidied up his spill without a second thought. His eyes followed your motions, almost viewing the dabs in slow motion the longer your hands lingered near him. 

His silence seemed to perplex you further, turning your shoulders and leaning your hips back against the marble counter and staring up into his unblinking eyes in response. His shaking hands reached for his wineglass and drew it up to his lips. His mustache dipped into the liquid, messily staining his upper lip with the tart tannins. 

Gazing at his shoulders, you noticed a loop of his shoulder straps seeming to bubble within the corseted lacings, your hands absentmindedly straightening the bonds without much thought. Mihawk choked on his liquid the moment your hands brushed against his shoulders. 

Feeling the warmth float from your fingertips to the exposed skin beneath the weighty jacket, his eyes widened briefly and his pupils narrowed in an accusatory glare. Huffing a nervous laugh as his soft choke and shaking your head, you reached behind you to the pile of napkins and began to raise it to his face and lightly pat at his stained skin. 

Reactionary, he immediately placed his glass down behind you with his right hand, his left clapped around your invasive wrist in a circled vice-grip. Your breath caught in your throat, darting your eyes around his face with your eyes wide and panicked. He immediately drew his face forward and captured your lips beneath his without restraint. He hummed into your lips, raising his right hand and carding his fingers through your hair to deepen the passion.

Lips, tongue, and teeth pulled and tugged at your mouth from the swordsman, his gentle moans and sharp breaths depicting his wanton need to join himself with you immediately. He was pent up for so long, restrained for so long, and his body betrayed him in a shameful display in his dreams as proxy to such desire. If his overnight visit from you as his midnight muse spoke for anything, it was that his needs were now becoming more insistent, prominent, and desperate to be satiated. 

And you were who he wanted to aid him in such a task. 

Your hands raised defensively beside you, your eyes were wide and staring at his furrowed brow and tightly clamped eyes. He continued pressing heated and passionate kisses against your lips with gusto. Not giving you time to adjust or react, he anchored himself between your legs and pinned you against the marble dining station. Lips trailing to your cheek and down your neck, he bit, nipped and sucked at your revealed skin. 

His hands looped around your neck and shoulders, drawing you against him with an incessant need to depict to you his desires with his unyielding grip. You gasped as his lips traced up your skin and returned to your lips, your hands dropping to brace yourself beside you on the marble surface. 

Pulling his lips away, he held your face stationary by palming at the scruff of your neck and holding your attention with his honey-colored eyes. His predatory gaze narrowed in on you as his bruise-kissed lips ticked up in his signature smirk. 

“There,” he snarled at you in soft agitation, before releasing your neck. He collected his wineglass and green bottle from behind you, keeping his face in close proximity. His smirk drew up further as he turned to walk away from you. 

Calling over his shoulder, he snickered his taunting remark at you before leaving through the door, “Now I can occupy your thoughts the same way you've been tormenting me in mine.” 

You stood there stunned, frozen in place as your lips still tingled with the feeling of his against yours. The silky scrape of his neatly cropped beard tickling your cheeks, the way his tongue brushed with yours, and the animalistic desire to consume you with his lust had your soul ignited. 

Turning to the marble bench, you claimed your wineglass and raised it to your lips, immediately gulping back the tart liquid in a heaping swig. Placing the glass in the sink, you stared at the door Mihawk just left through, your thoughts spiraling and sifting through all the possible scenarios of what his words meant, and what the kiss means for you now. 

Only Mihawk knew what he intended with the kiss, and after the morning meeting, he was going to give into his desires further and offer you a place in his bed to have his dreams become reality. 

[hannahbarberra162]

Note: As you can tell, graphic design is my greatest passion. I'll try to make this fancier at some point. For now, sorry, this is what you get. I mainly hang on Ao3, which I am adept at using because it looks like it was made in 2004 and never updated (compliment).

I don't have an upload schedule, I post what and when I can. I love interacting with everyone, leave me an ask or comment if you'd like.

Ace never dies.

Open for drabble and HC requests :3

Master List

One (and Two) Shots

Sir Crocodile and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day and on Ao3 (Croc x secretary reader, fluff and smut) and in French

Squace of Hearts, part 2 (Ace x childhood friend reader, angst and fluff)

Who the Deuce? (Ace x Deuce, angst and fluff)

Once in a Blue Moon (Were panther Zoro x reader, angst and fluff, smut)

Best in Show (Law x GN!Reader, all fluff no smut, Halloween special)

Opposites of Attraction (Kid x Reader, enemies to idiots to lovers)

Chapter 1

Snow Fall (Alpha!Izo x Omega!Reader)

On Ao3 Part 1

Princess Treatment (Benn Beckman x OC, Rivals to Lovers, Slow Burn)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

A Negative Outcome, (WBP / Marco & reader, not romantic, dark, kidnapping)

But then starting in part 2 (Thatch / Reader, whump, caretaking, morally gray Marco) part 3

Emperor's Prize (ABO, Alpha Shanks x Omega Reader, angst, hurt / comfort, yandere, WIP)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Alternate Ending

The Crocodile's Gambit (Croc x Reader, no Y/N, fluff and angst, WIP)

The Crocodile's Gambit Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Heat Transfer (Yandere WBP x NagaReader) No Y/N, angst, fluff, pet-ification, WIP

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Not My Monkey (Reverse Trope, Isekai reader, platonic strawhats, Reader x Jinbei)

on Ao3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Under the Microscope (Yandere Sabo x F!Reader) no Y/N, WIP

On Ao3

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

Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

hOrnithology for Beginners (18+ / MDNI) Marco X Reader (no Y/N) mostly silly fluff, a little angst, complete

On Ao3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Can't Fix Fix A Broken Heart (18+ / MDNI) - 18+ / MDNI - DARK- Yandere Whitebeard Pirates (Marco x Thatch x Ace x Reader), complete, mind the tags.

Country Mouse, City Mouse (18+ / MDNI) - Sunshine X Grumpy with Mihawk, fluff, complete

On Ao3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

Struck Twice By Lightning (18+ / MDNI) - Second Chance Romance with Shanks, Complete for now

On Ao3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14

Drabble Collection

[loganwritesprobably]

Love Hurts

Content/Warnings: Crocodile/M!Reader, angst, breakup, hurt/no comfort, cheating, talk of sex, character death (reader)

You weren't sure what you were expecting, getting into a relationship with Sir Crocodile. He was a dangerous, ruthless man. You'd learnt that well during your time with Baroque Works, and yet you'd allowed him to pursue you. You'd said yes to gifts and dates and kisses and sex. You'd said yes to him.

Everything was so filled with passion, every moment you were together was like something taken directly from a romance novel. He'd learned your every like and dislike and catered directly to them, managing to identify your every desire and fulfill it. He'd acted as if he loved you and he'd told you that he had.

"I wish I loved you less." You said softly, staring at his large back. He was so broad, before this moment all you could think when you looked at him was how large he was in comparison to you and how his body covered your own when you lay together. Now, that thought came nowhere close, and all you could think is how much time you'd wasted beside him.

"I enjoyed every moment you gave me, it's a pity you've realised so soon." Crocodile mused with a smirk.

Everything had started because you'd seen him with someone else. A pretty woman you'd seen frequenting the casino. You'd escaped to let your heart break in private, then reignited with anger that you turned on him. Crocodile hadn't been ashamed when he'd admitted he'd never liked you, not really, but he'd had good fun toying with you.

"You're so handsome when you're angry," Crocodile said, stepping towards you with a look in his eyes that before would've made your knees buckle, "sexy even. Let me remind you why you fell in love with me."

"I can't let you do that. I won't lose myself to you again." You refused, holding up your hands to stop him coming any closer. You wouldn't let him seduce you, breakup sex was the worst kind.

"That's a shame. I'd have enjoyed taking you apart one more time." His lack of care for you showed in his lack of reaction to your wanting to separate. He didn't even care enough to be angry at you for leaving.

"You can consider this my resignation too." You spat, ready to turn away from him and stride away, into a new life where things could be different.

"Then that changes things," Crocodile said in his low gravelly voice, and something clicked behind you, "I can't exactly let you leave, given all you know." You realised what the click was a moment too late, and choked on your own poisoned blood, the pain of his hook breaking through your chest and piercing your lungs hurting less than parting like this.

[mjrtaurus]

Dragon sitting on the couch watching Hallmark movies in his chicken socks with these pajama pants and this mug

He swears if they lose that berry farm to that real estate developer, he will lose his shit.

(Also if you think about it, Dragon and Crocodile's love story is basically a Hallmark movie)

Now imagine Crocodile looking at his sweet doofus of a husband, bare-chested, in his dragon jammies and chicken leg socks, with his gag gift mug that unironically became his favorite, staring up at him with the biggest, softest, wettest eyes (the movie couple finally kissed!!!) like he’s just rediscovered the meaning of love.

Adorable.

Now scoot over, he wants to watch the next movie with him and cuddle.