#will buggy ever learn

[local-loser-clown]

The gay reptiles at it again with traumatising the clown. It was Buggy's fault this time for asking, but he was just concerned

Buggy should know better at this point

[kacievvbbbb]

Say what you will about the clown, but you can’t deny he is a clown of the people.

[the-obnoxious-sibling]

@bitch-be-nimble well, not at the time. (the whole motivation behind this notfic with buggy in disguise was to see if i could write a post-roguetown encounter without making shanks lie when he tells whitebeard he hasn’t seen buggy since roguetown.) but it’s funny you should ask!

this got stupid long. okay, you know what? i’m just gonna post this first chunk of the story, it ends on a fun note and i won’t feel like i need to rush the rest if i’ve shared this much with y’all.

a little over a decade later, as the red force prepared to leave marineford:

it was buggy’s fault. undeniably. if he could’ve just kept his stupid mouth shut—but of course he couldn’t! not after the way shanks just treated him, pulling on his strings like a goddamn puppet master, like he still knew buggy after all these years. not when buggy knew for a fact that shanks wouldn’t recognize him without his nose acting as a big red flag.

(of course he hadn’t forgotten about that day. he never spoke of it, but it was on his mental tally of ways shanks had screwed him over. spooked him into eating the chop-chop fruit, constantly stole his thunder, beat him at cards (by cheating! by cheating at cards better than buggy!), ruined his plans for the future, kissed him one time in a back alley in east blue—and without even asking first!)

and this was the first time he’d been near shanks since that day, so of course it was on his mind. shanks hadn’t changed much since then, except that oh wait, he’d lost a fucking arm somehow! and nobody seemed to be able to agree on how.

buggy couldn’t bear to ask for the story.

he had to know.

he could not ask.

“looking at you, i can’t tell which of the rumors is true,” buggy said. (not asked!) shanks was sitting on a barrel, watching other members of his crew do real work, so buggy figured it was safe to bother him. he glanced up at buggy. “did you go after whitebeard and get punished for it like that crocodile guy, or did you try and see if your armament haki was stronger than a sea king’s teeth?”

shanks huffed out a little laugh. “are those the only rumors these days?”

“the only ones i considered remotely plausible.”

“well, the second one’s not far off,” shanks said.

buggy stared. that couldn’t be the whole story. not for him.

shanks sighed. “look, buggy, i’m sorry, but i don’t have time for this right now. unless you know my ship better than me, and can figure out where we’re going to place a twenty-two foot long corpse—” he cut himself off with a shake of his head. “any other day, i would love to sit down with you and catch up. just not today.”

right. buggy flushed. shanks was an emperor. even though he was the youngest and weakest of them, that still required a certain something. leadership. responsibility. just because he still looked like the shanks buggy knew, slacking off, doing as he liked, didn’t actually make him so.

“buggy,” shanks snapped.

“does he have to be lying down?” buggy blurted out. shanks blinked up at him, surprised to hear him try to be helpful. “i mean, i know how normal bodies work, death stiffness wears off eventually, but this is whitebeard. if anyone could stay standing the whole of his death, it’s that guy.”

shanks frowned. “i did consider that, briefly. but if we’re wrong, having to clear that much space in the time it takes him to fall over…”

buggy cringed. “right, that’d be way worse.” he thought about alternatives. this boat of shanks’ was nice, but it did not have that kind of room to spare, not if he was taking shipless pirates aboard (which, of course he was; this was shanks). “what about one of the whitebeard fleet ships? are any of them stable enough to carry him? they’re his crews, i bet they’d be honored to be his last ride.”

shanks nodded. “there are a few still seaworthy.” running his hand through his hair, he muttered, “but like hell i’m getting involved with the intracrew politics there. i’ll ask marco, he’ll know which one to pick to step on the fewest toes.” getting to his feet, shanks visibly swayed for a moment.

“whoa, are you—?”

“i’m—fine,” shanks said, pinching at his brow. he glanced at buggy, who had foolishly reached out to, what, steady him? offer an arm to lean on?? he didn’t know what he’d been thinking. shanks sighed. “it’s not as fun as we’d thought it’d be when we were kids, is it? being the ones in charge.”

“oh, i don’t know,” buggy said, thinking back to that moment, fresh out of impel down, when anything seemed possible with all those guys at his back, cheering him on. “it has its moments.”

shanks considered him for a moment. he smiled. “i guess it does. thanks for the suggestions, buggy. go find a spot to lie down, would you? you look like you could use some beauty sleep.”

and buggy knew he shouldn’t say it. even in the moment he knew it was stupid. but he could never leave well enough alone when shanks took a cheap shot at him, and that day had been on his mind. so he said, “gee, and here i thought i was gorgeous.” and because he really couldn’t help himself, it seemed, when shanks gave him a blank look, he fluttered his eyelashes and added, “with stunning eyes.”

shanks stared.

in the time it took for buggy to blink, he was shoved into the closest wall. he’d tear shanks a new one for halfheartedly trying to give him a concussion, but the hand that’d pressed him shoulder-first into the wall was drifting up, up his neck, cupping his cheek, and buggy found himself as lost for words this time as last.

shanks leaned in. just as he got too close for propriety, he sucked in a breath. he whispered, “that was you?”

buggy gave him a look that said obviously. that said how else would i know about it? that said why? does it matter?

did it matter? he stared up at shanks, and, far from the first time, had no idea what he was thinking.

shanks took a step back and laughed, rubbing his hand over his mouth. “oh god,” he said under his breath, “i really don’t have time for this right now.” eyes shutting, he sighed, and to buggy it looked like he’d aged ten years in an instant. someone out of sight called for their ‘boss,’ and the exhaustion, the previous, unreadable emotion, it all fell away. here was red-haired shanks the emperor, for the first time since he’d cowed the marines into allowing the whitebeard pirates their dead. he stalked off, calling out, “get some sleep, buggy,” over one shoulder, cool as anything.

buggy, feeling distinctly uncool and like he’d never sleep again, scurried away in search of a private corner he could panic in. he found a deck a level or two up that was deserted for the moment—crew quarters, maybe?—and huddled by the railing. had anyone seen that? stupid, stupid—

“did you see that?” someone a deck below said excitedly to their companions. “captain buggy got that emperor mad enough to shove him into a wall, and then without a word forced him to retreat! he’s truly amazing!”

buggy buried his face in his hands and groaned. so stupid.

“hey, quick question,” said someone at buggy’s elbow some time later. “are you trying to get us all killed?” it was mr. 3—er, galdino, or whatever his name was, looking very fearful and annoyed and sweaty. or maybe that was the wax? buggy didn’t know much about him, or how his powers worked.

“how’s that?”

“word among the men,” this was how galdino had been referring to the prisoners who’d followed the two of them out of impel down lately, ‘the men,’ like they were buggy’s soldiers or something, “is that red-haired shanks kabedon'd you, and you turned him down. you realize he’s our only possible ride out of here at this point, right? why antagonize him like that?”

buggy’s face screwed up. like he needed to be reminded of the distance between him and shanks. but also: “the hell’s that word mean?”

“kabedon? it’s when someone shoves you into a wall to intimidate and flirt with you.”

“flirt with—” buggy sputtered, face hot. oh shit, was that really what they were saying? “god no, no way! shanks would never—”

“i’m just reporting what i’ve heard,” galdino said, shoving his glasses up his nose. “oh, no one’s made the flirtatious connection but me, but they all say the two of you got up close and personal, and red-hair’s been red-faced ever since. i just put two and two together.”

“it wasn’t like that,” said buggy, who couldn’t have told galdino what it was like, since he still had no idea himself.

“no?” galdino joined buggy at the railing. they had a good view of the main deck from up here, including a cluster of men having a serious-looking discussion. since the group included shanks and marco the phoenix, it was probably about whitebeard and ace, and where they were taking them and how to do it. shanks looked tired, but it wasn’t obvious like it had been when it was just the two of them. there was something on his face that buggy recognized from the day the news about roger’s arrest broke. a quiet, sad kind of tired.

feeling eyes on him, shanks glanced up. their eyes met for a moment, maybe two. then shanks turned away, face slightly, undeniably redder, rubbing his hand over his mouth.

galdino leaned in close to buggy’s ear. “you sure about that, buggy?”

blushing bright enough to rival his nose, buggy stomped off, steaming, muttering curses against smart-mouthed wax men under his breath.

but no, he wasn’t sure at all.

[buggbuzz]

GUYS I GOT INTO A COLLEGE STUDENT RESEARCH PROGRAM!!

IM GONNA WORK ON A BIG EPIGENETICS PROJECT W/ MY PROFESSOR FOR A YEAR STRAIGHT!!

IN CELEBRATION HERE IS ME IN THE NEW LABCOAT I JUST GOT!! i have wanted my own lab coat for over a decade

[moonbaby26]

Their Favorite Parts

*crossposted to AO3 here*

Prompt: One Piece men and the parts of your body that they fixate on most. 

Reader Type: GN!Reader

Characters: Doflamingo, Kuzan/Aokiji, Crocodile, Smoker, Buggy, Mihawk, Shanks, Law

Warnings: language, references to sex, penetration, oral, and foreplay

Fic Masterlist

———————————

Doflamingo/Holes

He actually can be gentle with you. But you’ve found that level of care is always only a precursor to something else that he wants. And in the end, he can’t ever let you back to sleep until he’s been inside at least one of your holes and fully spent himself within it. 

Whether this wretched man is pounding between your thighs, or probing you with those long fingers, or dampening you with that equally obscene tongue…he wants to be as deep inside of you as he can possibly be. 

He loves you most when you’re trembling, thighs spread beneath him. Or on your knees looking up as your eyes water with your mouth full of his length. He’ll tell you what a good pet you are even as you plead or choke. 

But it’s as if you were made perfectly for him. He’ll never feel this with another lover. You’re his favorite until he destroys it all. And even then, he may just pull you from the ash to start with you again. Because he would sincerely miss you in his next empire.

Kuzan/Aokiji/Chest

He loves to sleep with his head on your chest. He can hear your heartbeat then and know that you’re still really there. That this isn’t all some terrible illusion, as much as he still feels he doesn’t deserve you and can’t keep you. 

His life has been too complicated. All the way from a respected, yet conflicted marine to whatever the hell people are calling him these days. But you never seem to judge him. You still believe in him, even now. He doesn’t understand your loyalty, but he loves you for it. 

And when the two of you are awake and intimate, he’ll be behind you, hands holding your warm chest as his fingers massage it. The way you lean back into him as your chill bumps form is so trusting. You know that he could freeze your heart in an instant if he chose to. But of course he never would. He wants this to last forever. He needs you at his side.

Sir Crocodile/Hips

He is certain you do it on purpose by now. The way your ever tight clothing forms around your body. It feels like a specific challenge you’ve made against him. As if you are daring his eyes not to follow you across the room as your hips sway while you walk. 

You’re his favorite assassin already. Though perhaps he can take some blame for letting this favoritism start to go to your head. And yet, even when he plans to punish you, he finds himself enjoying it too much. It’s hard to keep you humble when he’s still moaning your name as he fucks you over the top of his desk. 

With his one hand he grabs into that fleshy hip, riding you to his release as his hook stays warningly against the side of your face. But while you smirk against that curved metal as he finally cums, he knows you haven’t learned your lesson at all. Yet he also realizes that there are still years of this game to come. You’re too efficient to get rid of you anytime soon.

Smoker/Lips

It was the first thing he ever noticed about you. Just how pouty your lips could look, even as you argued and bitched at him on the battlefield. You cursed him through those lips, always lamenting that he made your shared marine ship smell like an ashtray. 

And by the time he’d found his way into your bunk one night, those same lips were about the only thing he would put his cigars down for. He’d wanted to kiss you for so long. By the time you finally let him, he never wanted to lose that high again. 

It could be soft, it could be rough. Just like you and your ever changing moods. You acted like you hated him until your mouth was over his. Then you were thrusting against him soon enough and whimpering even as you both knew you couldn’t wake the rest of the ship. 

He always started and ended sex with you with those damned lips. And every time he knew curses would be flying from them again tomorrow, even if his name would also be moaning out through them just as passionately each night.

Buggy/Butt

His life was a circus. And not just in the literal way he would have preferred. Somehow every move he made garnered new success, but equal terror. He never knew what tomorrow would bring. As Cross Guild’s infamy grew, so did his reputation along with it. 

But his nerves were shot, and you could tell. When the others bullied him, you never added to it. He hadn’t a clue why you’d chosen him. But he wouldn’t take it for granted either as you’d come to sit in his lap, late at night in his room. You’d call him your captain, your emperor even, grinding that perfect ass into him as you tried to cheer him up. 

And it always worked. As he’d a bit too desperately slide your pants from you, you always humored him. Letting his hands massage and hold that enticing rear. If he wanted to spank you, you let him do that too. It was just so soft and…comforting? He might not admit it, but you were his only remaining stability in this place. If he lost you, that would have been his breaking point. But he trusted you too when you promised that you were in it for the long haul. He was already your pirate king.

Mihawk/Eyes

It was the way you’d looked at him that first time the two of you had ever crossed paths. You weren’t afraid of his history, even as you’d seen him kill a lesser swordsman right in front of you. 

By the time he got to know you better, he’d realized just how much he liked to gaze into those eyes. It was as if he could feel what you were thinking. And as your confidence grew, that ‘come hither’ look of yours became far more prominent as well. 

Just with a glance, he knew exactly when you were craving to have those physical needs sated. And he certainly respected that need, finding it rather quickly a mutual one as he’d often carry you to his bed. 

And even then as his hips would be pumping skillfully against your own, you’d be looking up at him in a haze of pleasure with those same beautiful eyes. A view for him alone, one he would cherish and protect forever more.

Shanks/Legs

It might have been a bit too crass on his part, that afternoon in the bar when he’d first noticed you from across the room. But his ship wouldn’t be in port for long. There wasn’t time to play this subtle. No, not at all as he’d whistled loudly, catcalling you while his crew had laughed. 

He’d gotten the full view as well when those same lovely legs had carried you right back up to the bar to tell him to go fuck himself. And the way he’d smiled at you just pissed you off even further of course. 

Your anger made you stay. And it was definitely a talent of his to inspire that, but he was persistent too. Soon enough you’d let him buy you a drink, and then a few more. By the time the two of you had been stumbling out of the bar, you were letting him know your room number at the nearby inn. You wanted to know if he was just all talk. He assured you that he was not.

And that night as he did get the privilege of those legs being wrapped around him as your bed creaked and shook in a marathon of lovemaking, he realized his crew probably could find more room on the ship. You had no ties to this town either. 

By morning he was more than pleased when you agreed to board. Beck had protested a little, just at the sudden impracticality of yet another mouth to feed. But Shanks knew you would fit in fine, all of you and those legs laying in his bunk warm beside him for years to come on your way through the New World.

Law/Hands

With an epithet like the Surgeon of Death, he of course knew better than most on the importance of dexterity and skill with the hands. Without his own, he felt that he would have been useless. 

But this appreciation for such talent had quickly extended to you once he’d finally given in. He’d ignored you for as long as he could, too logical in his understanding of how reckless it’d be to pursue a member of his own crew. But so many days and nights alone under the ocean’s surface had finally worn him down. 

The night on the Polar Tang when those skillful fingers of yours had finally been in his hair, and finally unbuttoning his pants soon after was one that had been so long coming. You’d gotten to see that other side of him then as he unraveled almost shamefully beneath your stroking and assurances. 

He’d taken care of everyone else for so long you told him, playing the part of their stoic leader. But you knew he was far from only that as your hands drew out all his pent up need. 

You promised him that he was safe with you. That you were with him until the end. And it was all true. The captain of the Heart Pirates would remain within your capable hands for as long as he desired to. And that desire would prove to be unbreakable.

[httpwintersoldier]

『 bloodhound. || mihawk x reader 』

[PART 3 OF 4 - ONE PIECE'S KINKTOBER] - MIHAWK VER.

[SHANKS VER.] [BUGGY VER.] [SANJI VER.]

pairing: mihawk x f!reader words: lenghtyyyyy summary: your thievery catches the eye of a man who likes to take on every challenge that crosses him, only he did not know you were a bigger challenge than he anticipated. warnings: mihawk uses you. just assume the worst when reading my stuff. angst; smut; fluff.

You weren't a pirate, but somehow you got yourself a pretty little wanted poster. 10 million Berries, not bad! Not bad at all for someone who only committed a little theft.

Obviously by "a little theft" you meant stealing from the biggest banks and richest families - you just happened to like shiny things!

You got under the Marines' radar when you managed to infiltrate the base and steal some of their maps - yes, they weren't shiny or pretty, but the money you were about to get for them from the likes of Arlong and Buggy sure was. You made deals with good people and bad people alike, who they were mattered not to you - it only mattered that their money was real.

"You busy?" The Vice-Admiral's voice sounded in Mihawk's ear.

The man, who was sleeping, his hat covering his eyes, furrowed his eyebrows and groaned internally at the voice he now found annoying.

"I was, Vice-Admiral, but I find myself free now that you woke me." The man answered, an impertinent tone in his voice.

"I got you a new prey."

Interested in the way he described you (as a prey), Mihawk listened attentively to the instructions the Vice Admiral gave him.

"A thief? You woke me and are sending me out to sea, because of a little girl who stole some stuff?" Mihawk asked with a condescending tone.

"Not some stuff. Too much stuff."

The man rolled his eyes as he made his way to his small ship

"And the Marines are not able to catch her?"

"I think you will find the task harder than it seems, Mihawk."

With those final words, the Vice Admiral hung up, tired of Mihawk's judging and condescending tone. The man groaned, getting a little tired of these seemingly easy tasks the Marine sent him on - he was a Warlord, for fuck's sake, and the Marines used him to go after a measly thief...

You, on the other hand, rested on the shore of an island whose name you didn't care to learn. You hadn't robbed anyone or anything on it yet, so you wanted to enjoy the sea, the sand and the food while no one was looking for you (even though someone already was, you just didn't know it yet). You were very confident in your skills, constantly changing your look, attire and personality to make you harder to find or recognize. Few people ever suspected you, and so the confidence that you'd never be caught grew.

Obviously it didn't take Mihawk long before he was able to find you - all he had to do was ask around which islands had recently been tragets of many robberies and find the closest island that had yet no reports of such a thing happening.

"Have you heard? Dracule Mihawk is here! I'm sure I saw him, you can see his sword from miles away!" You heard someone whisper as you walked the streets of the island.

Your furrowed your brows at the information... Dracule Mihawk? What would a Warlord be doing in such a small island? Unless...

Your eyes widened in realization.

Shit.

Maybe you weren't as careful as you thought, maybe you weren't as good as you thought, and maybe you weren't as "uncatchable" and untraceable as you thought. If he was able to find you within a couple days of setting foot on the island, Mihawk surely would be able to spot you.

Shit. Fuck.

You needed to sneak on a ship that very night and get the fuck out before the man found you. You kept cursing internally as you had to leave the island before even being able to steal anything - but it was either leaving empty handed or leaving tied up.

For the time being, you hid on the island's vast forest, where you were sure he wouldn't look, waiting for the moon to come out.

When the sun began setting in the horizon, you made your way out of the dense jungle and headed to the island's port, looking for the biggest and most crowded ship - the more people it had and the bigger it was, the hardest to spot you, the unsolicited company, would be.

"I had to admit, I thought the whispers of my arrival would ruin our encounter, yet here we are." You heard a male voice speak behind you, as you walked on the port's creaky wooden floors.

You slowly turned around to unfortunately find the man tasked with bringing you to the Marines. You smiled innocently and held your hands up in surrender.

"Sorry Sir! Think you got the wrong person, I'm just boarding now!"

Your lies didn't work on Mihawk, that just rolled his eyes at you.

"Boarding? No ship is boarding at the moment, as both of us can very clearly see. I know who you are girl, make this easier for yourself and give in."

You smirked and scoffed at the man.

"Can't believe the Marines sent a Warlord after me, am I that dangerous?" You said, placing a hand over your chest, pretending to be shocked.

Mihawk was a little surprised about your change in demeanor, but he (obviously) didn't show it.

"Neither can I." He said honestly, with a sigh that showed the utmost boredom "So let's make this quick shall we?"

Your eyes were set on his sword and necklace. They were intersting... Pretty and... shiny. Oh you wanted them, you wanted them bad. Especially since you didn't get to steal anything in the island. You knew you'd hardly be able to steal the big heavy sword, but the little cross on his neck? Child's play.

You switched your confident expression to a fake shocked, sad one and walked over to him slowly, with your wrists together in front of you - you pretended to give yourself in for the sake of getting closer.

Mihawk's confidence, boredom and belief that he was better than anyone and capable of outsmarting every opponent, as well as the fact that he underestimated you, were fulcral for your escape plan.

When trying to find a ship, you spotted a couple that had left not long ago and would be easy to swim to. For you, obviously, not for Mihawk that carried

The Warlord was not surprised you gave youself in, some people would do so in hopes to fall in the Marines' good graces and get better sentencing.

"Pretty knife you got there." You said, pointing to his sword

Mihawk furrowed his eyebrows and, while he was busy being offended you called Yoru a "knife", you grabbed the cross on his neck and dove into the water, furiously swimming towards one of the boats that had left not long ago, but was far away enough from shore for Mihawk not to be able to follow you.

"Fuck!" He yelled.

It was dark and the waves were wild, it was impossible to follow you with his sight, let alone physically. And he couldn't attack the ship - it was full of civilians.

When you reached a ship, you pretended to be a scared woman that had fallen overboard in another ship and they immediately took you in and offered you food and clothes, in an attempt to make up for the supposed trauma you'd told them about.

You were the number one thing on Mihawk's priprity list from that day on - he was obsessed with you. Any other targeted ordered by the Marine was ignored or done as a side quest as he looked for you - the woman that had stolen his necklace and worse, the one that outsmarted him.

On the other hand, you were giddy you were able to pull it off, and wore the necklace (hidden, of course, as to not raise suspicion) as a prize.

You wouldn't see each other for two months. You thought you were safe from his radar, but that couldn't be further from the truth. To be fair, you knew that if he was looking for you, he'd be at the big ball hosted by Kaya, and you knew it'd be risky to attend but you absolutely couldn't miss it - so many people to steal from, so much jewelry... A paradise to you.

So you did your best to disguise yourself: a dress far more revealing than usual, to take away attention from your somewhat recognizable face and a long, black wig with a fringe and two strands on each side that framed your face, hiding your features even more.

Mihawk refused to leave Yoru behind, even if it meant you'd recognize him in the middle of the crowd. He was determined to get you, no matter what means he had to use.

You waited a while before starting to swipe stuff - you wanted to give people time to get somehwat drunk. That would make it so they wouldn't notice their things vanish so easily and, as a bonus, they'd probably blame the loss of their items on the alcohol, and not on a thief. It was perfect.

You hid the sutff you had stolen on your pouch, in hidden places on your outfit and, in some cases, you wore the jewelry as if it was yours.

The party was cut short on your end when you saw a feathery had and a shiny sword walk in the big doors of the mansion.

"Oh... Shit." You cursed under your breath and scanned the room to find the best exit.

The stress and fear of the Warlord seemingly still following you made your brain momentarily stop, and you did not stop to think that someone hurriedly making their way out right as he walks in would be suspicious.

"Gotcha." He thought, with a smirk, as he spotted you making your way to the back.

Before you could get far, a large hand captured your wrist.

"Leaving so soon? Why don't we dance for a little, my lady." Mihawk whispered in your ear.

You had no time to reply as he spun you around and pulled you to his chest.

"You have something that belongs to me, Y/N." He whispered again.

To the unknowing eye, it would seem you and Mihawk were simply dancing to the song, but you were very much fighting, although not in a way that would alert the other guests that they were in possible danger.

"Why don't you come find it?" You suggested with a smirk, as the man spun you into his chest.

"There will be plenty of time to find it, trust me." His hands travelled your body, looking for the cross you had stolen, correctly assuming you kept it close, instead finding several compartments with jewelry "Is this all you've stolen tonight?" Mihawk asks, amused.

You chuckled.

"I was just beginning, until someone crashed the party."

Mihawk pulled you close once more.

"I doubt you're in the guest list, I'm hardly the only one crashing a party."

"So now what?" You asked with a scoff, looking up at his big, yellow eyes "You take me in and hand me to the Marines?"

Mihawk scanned your face - you were good. You had just been caught, yet you displayed no trace of stress, despair, panic... In fact, you looked confident. And Mihawk wasn't sure if that impressed him, agered him, or aroused him. For you to be so confident in the face of power and danger... that stirred up something in him that he wasn't sure how to describe.

"I'm not so sure. You've made this personal when you stole my belongings." He replied, with an expression you couldn't decipher.

"I also made fun of your pretty sword." You said with a giggle.

That was the turning point that had Mihawk swing you over his shoulder and carry you out. Some guests were far too drunk to process what had happened and the ones that weren't simply didn't care - they had free food and drinks, why should they care.

The man carried you out to the garden, to a secluded place surrounded by bushes, trees and tall flowers. There was a small gazebo in the center but it was far away enough Mihawk was sure no one would come snooping.

"That's it. Where is it!?" He asked, as if you had wasted his patience completely (which you had).

Mihawk not-so-carefully threw you on the ground and straddled you, making you groan when your head hit the hard wooden floor.

When he obtained no response, his hands began searching you, taking out every piece of jewelry he found - your pouch, your hidden pockets, your body.

"Hey!" You complained, gathering the jewelry others had worked so hard for (and you had worked so hard to steal from) as best as you could.

"Where is it!?" Mihawk growled, his face, centimiters away from yours, as his hands angrily gripped your thighs.

You knew you had no way out of it now, so you might as well succumb to his wishes.

Mihawk watched as you slid off the straps of your dress and pulled it down slightly, to reveal that his necklace was stored in your bra, between your tits. You giggled in his face, making him even angrier.

"You know what?..." The man began, taking his cross away from you and placing it down far away "You've caused me a lot of trouble... and most of all you made fun of me to my face."

His hand made its way from your thigh to your neck, gripping it slightly, before bending over to whisper in your ear.

"I think I've just found a way for you to pay for all the trouble."

For a second you thought he was going to kill you - even though choking wasn't his style, nothing was off the table, you thought. It was only when you saw a lustful glint in his eye that you understood what he meant.

"You like to fuck all of the criminals you find along the way?" You teased with a smirk.

Mihawk stood up and, as he did so, he gripped your hair and made you kneel in front of him.

"Can't wait to shut that pretty little mouth of yours." He says through gritted teeth, as he pulled out his cock and slapped it against your cheek a couple times.

You obidiently open your mouth as you look up at him with big eyes, and he shoves his lenght in your mouth. The man gathered your hair in a ponytail, making it easier to control you and fuck your face.

"Who knew you could be such a good girl? Hm?"

You could only moan in responde and grip his thighs for support. When you looked up at him again tears brimmed in your eyes, from how hard he was fucking your mouth.

When the man pulled out, you gasped for air, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his tip.

"Feel like talking back now, brat?" Mihawk asked, voice dripping in fake pity.

You opened your mark to hit him with a snappy remark, but he took the oportunity to shove his cock back into your mouth, efffectively shutting you up once more.

You gagged on his cock over and over, a tear rolling down your cheek and eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as he fucked your throat.

Mihawk's abdomen clenched as he felt himself getting closer and closer to climax, and just then he pulled away from your mouth.

The smudged makeup running down your face and swollen mouth alone would've been good enough to make him cum - oh how he loved putting brats in their place.

The man sat with his back leaning against one of the sturdy wooden collumns, and patted his thigh, signaling for you to sit on his lap.

"What makes you think I won't just run away." You asked with a broken voice, your throat a little dry from him fucking you.

Mihawk scoffed as you crawled over to him.

"I know you won't." The man responded in a cocky voice.

Worst part was that he was right.

As you straddled him, one of his arms wrapped around you, keeping you hovering over his cock. The man pulled up your dress and pushed your panties aside so he could access your pussy.

"Oh but you like being used, don't you? You like being a fuck toy, right princess? Just a hole for me to fuck?" Mihawk asked condescendingly, as he ran two fingers along your dripping folds.

You bit your lip as you heard those foul (and very true) words leave his lips.

"Answer me." He demanded through gritted teeth, delivering a harsh smack to your yes.

"I do- I love being used by you."

Mihawk chuckled, running his tip alolng your folds.

"I can tell, princess."

His tip found your entrance, and he had no mercy on you. He slammed you down on his cock. You gripped his shoulders, and your mouth fell open - although you were incapable of making a single noise.

The arm that was gripped around your waist controlled your movements as his hips slammed up against you, fucking you at an inhuman pace.

"Come on princess, don't you like being a brat? I dare you to try it now." Mihawk dared, whispering the last part in your ear.

"I- I won't be! Fuck- sorry!" You apologised between pants and moans, your eyes barely open.

"That's a good girl." He praised, nearly out of breath from fucking you.

"You feel good... so good." You admitted in a husky voice, earning a smirk from Mihawk and a spank that was meant to be a reward (and you took it as such).

The Warlord attached his lips to yours in an animalistic kiss, accentuating the fact that he was in control, he owned you in that moment.

You moaned incessantly into the kiss, mixing with his groans, as you gripped his shoulders.

"You look- you look so much better like this. Being obedient, with my cock deep in you."

The way you bounced on his cock became sloppy, as did his thrust, signaling you were both close to climax.

Mihawk bit and sucked your neck, marking you as best as he possibly could at that point.

"Fuck Mihawk I'm gonna cum!"

The hand that was not busy gripping your ass flew to your neck, choking you just the right way - in a way that almost made you cum.

"Did I tell you you could? Beg." He demanded through gritted teeth.

Your legs faltered at your command, but his hand held you up.

"Please, please Mihawk... I need to cum, please!"

Your high-pitched moan combined with the way you begged was enough to make him give you the green light.

You came on his cock, a loud whine and a call for his name leaving your lips. Mihawk grabbed your hips and snapped his against yours until ropes of cum filled you up.

The both of you stayed still, regaining your breaths and resuming the tension of the pre-sex moment.

Mihawk reached out to grab the cross that you had stolen from him and wrapped it around his neck once more, enjoying the familiarity of the item.

"I guess you gotta hand me over, hm..." You said, in a fake sad voice, trying to appeal to his soft side now that you had his dick in you.

He simply scoffed.

"You won't get sympathy from me, princess." The Warlord said, placing his hands on your ass "However, this world does need a few new wild cards, it's getting boring. And you have the right attitude, I think you'd have a lot more use beside me, as a student, rather than in a cell."

It was almost as if he was debating with himself about the theme as he exposed it to you.

Before you could speak, Mihawk anticipated himself.

"You'll have plenty Berry to buy your shiny paraphernalia..." He clarified, rolling his eyes.

"Well... Having your grumoy self as a teacher beats being behind bars... so I guess you got yourself a student."

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Hi I just learned Kinktober is a thing

So here's my four favorite boys and their kinks.

Or is it five this time? *dramatic sound effect*

And yes, I'm still working on ABCs of Kink, I've got the next one about halfway done and it may be posted today, and I'm still working through the ask requests, and still

But headcanons shiny need more

Ooooh...Kinky ;D

Very obviously NSFW.

LA!Zoro X AFAB!Reader, LA!Sanji X AFAB!Reader, LA!Shanks X AFAB!Reader, LA!Mihawk X AFAB!Reader, LA!Buggy X AFAB!Reader (I'm on my second watch of OPLA and he's kinda grown on me).

Zoro

"I hope you like it rough, baby."

Zoro's not super kinky, but he definitely likes it rough, which goes hand in hand with the couple kinks he does have.

You're going to want to have a safeword/signal if you're giving him a blowjob—he's thick and he loves seeing you gag and choke on his cock. Literally the biggest turn-on.

Holding tight onto your hair the whole time.

The sight of your make-up trailing down your flushed face while he's fucking your mouth and throat makes his knees weak.

Pulling your head all the way down to come down your throat, shaking, groaning, swearing.

He's a little cautious about outright choking you during sex—he doesn't want to get too wound up and unintentionally hurt you—but if you ask him to, he's going to, because it's still an enormous turn-on.

"God, I fucking love it when you gag on it...."

Sanji

"If I make you dinner, do I get to have you for dessert?"

Like, do I even have to say it?

Food play.

Chocolate sauce, whipped cream, caramel, it's going to get messy. Any reason to trail his lips and his tongue over your beautiful body is a very, very good reason.

(BTW I recently learned Taz Skylar has a tongue ring so it's now canon that Sanji has one and do not argue with me I will die on this hill.)

He's never going to do or say anything to degrade you...but if you want to do so to him? By all means, be his guest.

You're his queen and he's your loyal subject, the man has no qualms about you doing anything you want to him.

Shove him into a wall, call him names, tie him to the bed, step on him, whip him, spit in his face—he will thank you for it. If it brings you pleasure, it brings him pleasure.

Literally everything you do turns him on, and he's beyond happy to be your personal toy.

"You, my love, are the sweetest thing that has ever touched my lips."

Shanks

"Oh, come on, sweetheart. Where's the fun in life without a little risk?"

Honestly the kinkiest of the four (but not the five). Super playful, and one hundred percent open to absolutely anything you suggest trying.

I mean anything. If you tell him you want to dress him up in frilly lingerie and call him your wench, he's totally game.

But he reserves the right to crack stupid jokes about it the whole time.

His own biggest kink is public sex. The riskier the better.

Reaching under the table at a tavern and creeping his hand up your thigh and under your skirt to rub you through your panties...or just flat out pulling you onto him to straddle his lap, make out with you, grind against you with absolutely no concern of anyone seeing.

Pulling you right into the mouth of an alley, barely concealed in the shadows and just having you right there against the wall, where any passersby might catch a glimpse of what you're doing.

He doesn't care—it's not like anyone's even going to attempt to stop one of the most notorious pirates on the Grand Line.

He enjoys a little role-play as well. You're the little marine cadet he took prisoner and decided to keep as his personal playing. The enchanting stranger from a tavern he's seduced.

Call him "captain." It drives him wild.

"Oh, what a good little wench you are, love."

Mihawk

"You seem to have forgotten who's in charge here, little one."

One hundred percent certified professional Brat Tamer™.

He's not going to let on that your pestering and testing his patience is anything but a casual annoyance—but the whole time he'll be thinking about how he's going to punish you later for being such an endearing little pest.

You're getting tied up. Cuffed to the bed. Clothes torn off of you. Spanked. You're getting teased beyond the point of sanity, within an inch of your life.

There's a fair chance he won't let you come for literal hours.

That he'll leave you tied up while he sits back and has a glass of wine and just revels in your pleading for more, revels in being in total control of your agony and pleasure.

You're going to have to beg, to promise you'll be a good girl for your master (even though you both know that's not true) before you get anything more out of him.

Big kink for lace and nylon as well.

He's constantly having to buy you new tights, new underwear and lingerie, because seeing you in them sets him on fire to the point that he's very likely to literally rip them off of you in a fit of desire and fuck you absolutely senseless.

"For the last damned time, no, your safe-word cannot be Yoru."

Buggy

"You know you're my favorite freak, babe."

Couldn't not include Buggy this time because it's pretty obvious that he's the kinkiest motherfucker at this party.

The guy has removable body parts, for gods' sake, of course he's going to utilize them in the most creative ways possible. He could be on the other side of the ship and still have his hand down your panties.

Degradation, cuckhold, ropes, whips, chains, knife play, you name it and he's probably into it. It would be a miracle for you to come up with something he hasn't tried at least twice.

He's going to call you every degrading name he can think of. Spank you and slap you. Choke you until you nearly pass out. And he's fully open to and expects you to do the same to him.

Dom or sub, doesn't matter, he's just having a good old-fashioned filthy time either way.

Totally open to threesomes, he's bi as fuck.

Also totally open to chaining you up and letting the entire crew run a train on you while he watches.

If you can imagine it, he's done it, wrote the book on it, and you're going to be doing it with him.

"Don't even pretend you don't like being my slut."

[fanaticsnail]

Cross-Guild Masterlist

Navigation Masterlist Here

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Buggy D. Clown:

You Kissed the Clown? (15/15 Series)

An upper-class tinkerer finds herself amongst the crew of the Staw-Hat pirates. Falling within the blast of a giant flash of red smoke and captured with her crew in the claws of the Buggy Pirates; she is confronted by her flight, fight and freeze response. Immediately, she finds another way of distracting the infamous clown-captain: a passionate and disarming kiss. As time and distance fall between them, feelings of romance, infatuation, fascination and longing cling to the clown and the tinkerer in each other's absence. How could they feel so deeply for each other; they only shared one single kiss?

Happy Birthday, Pumpkin (one-shot)

Buggy longs to kiss you but always shies away in case his affection is not reciprocated. Finally, an opportunity presents itself for a consequence-free kiss and he can barely hold himself back in anticipation. Happy birthday!

I Can't Do This Without You (one-shot)(smut)

Buggy attempted to use some unusual, waxy pollen to form into a "buggy-ball". He was an idiot. He can't manage the consequences without his loyal and ever faithful crewmate to help him out.

A Small Kindness (Smut One-Shot)

A blue-haired man with a round red nose is down on his luck. He's lost everything, not a single berry to his name after being defeated again by the straw-hat crew. A small kindness from a stranger propels him to get back on his feet. How could he repay you? Surely you needed something in return.

Headcanons & Drabbles:

Soft-Dom BuggyBratty BuggyCross-Guild InterrogationThe Clown Apologises

Buggy x Reader x Mihawk:

Swing, Sway, Shag, Smimmy (Buggy x Reader x Mihawk) (4/4)

Buggy is infatuated with his prized acrobat. He issues a dance night-off for his pirate crew, choosing to "make a move" in the hopes of charming his beautiful acrobat under the hawk-like gaze of his guest of honour. Unbeknownst to Buggy, the feeling of infatuation is mutual regarding the acrobat. Can they learn to 'play nice' to woo the acrobat? Yes, yes they can.

Dracule Mihawk:

The Apprentice (6/7 Series)

Mihawk is a bitchy boss, the apprentice is his bratty underling. Professionalism, sword-mastery and affiliation for wine consumption drives their relationship.Mihawk pushed his apprentice a little too far, prompting her to submit a formal resignation effective immediately. Calling her bluff, he attempts to chaperone her towards a cellar door to begin an afternoon of wine-tasting, only to find absence at his side as his apprentice simply walked away from him. And he was angry about it.Ongoing series.

You Should Be Sad (Completed Series):

Upon rising to the title of Warlord and Worlds-Greatest-Swordsman, Dracule Mihawk began to neglect his fiancé and her desires. Unable to provide her with the one thing she truly longed for, he remained apathetic as she broke from their lengthy courtship.A decade later, and many a bottle of brandy relinquished, he drifts to Baratie in hopes of drowning away the memory of her: only to have his hopes shattered as the hired band begins to play with his ex-fiancé singing her vengeance at him.

Let Me Take Care of You (one-shot)

The personal assistant to Dracule Mihawk notices he is not quite acting himself: a small wince as he reaches for his breakfast wine glass, a grimace as he draws it to his lips and the narrowing of his eyes as he begins to slouch. Luckily for the both of them, the assistant has a resume of many a skill: remedial massage being the key element provided to the broody warlord. He reluctantly accepts their touch, longing for the burden to be released from his shoulders.

El Tango de Mihawk (one-shot)

A talented thief manages to obtain an invite to the marine ball and decides to utilize it as a great opportunity to steal from the wealthiest members of the world government. Mihawk immediately recognizes them and decides to toy with their scheming, tango dancing ensues.

The Marine's Mistake (request) (one-shot)

Something horrible occurred to rid the warlord of his signature facial hair. Cadets had gathered and began whispering in hushed tones as Garp held a seated meeting with the warlord at a table in a run of the mill tavern. A new transfer does not recognize the sleek cheeks of the handsome gentlemen and immediately decides to approach to flirtatiously engage him over a drink or two. Mihawk is amused.

My Love Mine All Mine (request) (one-shot)

Mihawk returns to his castle in kuraigana nine days after he was due to return. He finds his lover sleeping in his bed, face falling to rest atop his pillow. Soft drabble, pining, longing.

Hanahaki: The Hawk and the Fledgling (request) (one-shot) Part 2

Mihawk notices his Fledgling, an apprentice he took under his wing, has become lazy in their training. Upon one final vocal reprimand, they collapse; sputtering a cocktail of saliva, blood and... petals? Is that petals in their hand? Surely not.

The Spear and the Sword (request) (one shot)

Drabble Part 2

Mihawk is required by Vice-Admiral Garp to obliterate an approaching armada of barbaric pillagers from their attack on a marine base. As this army was not enough for him to handle alone, Garp calls in another warlord, a ferocious warrior-woman armed with a spear, to aid in his ability to complete this task with as much succession as possible with as little damage done to the defenseless base. Both begin their armed ascension, showcasing their abilities in contest to see how many troops they best by the end of battle, against how many injuries they themselves acquire in the thralls of combat.

Little Sparrow (one-shot: drabble)

Mihawk has been up with your daughter, soothing her as she experiences her leap weeks. You spend some moments with your husband as he holds her in his arms.

Sapsorrow: (9/10 Series)

Upon receiving an invitation from the lord of Kuraigana to train his wards, you never expected your career as a governess to lead you here. As your tour of the keep was conducted, a ring was slipped onto your finger: invoking an ancient curse you truly did not understand. Setting three conditions for marriage, your newly betrothed immediately made haste to complete them with you blissfully ignorant that his life hung in the balance should be fail his task.

Macule Drihawk (drabble)

When Dracule Mihawk drinks, he becomes an entirely different person. That person's name is Macule Drihawk.

Pretty Bird (series)

Mihawk is an injured avarial trapped in his raven form while healing. You nurse him back to health, and he becomes smitten with you.

Obsession (one-shot)

Many believe Mihawk keeps the knowledge of his spouse a secret because he is a private man. Truth of it is, he is simply obsessed with you and doesn't believe any other pair of eyes is worthy of meeting their gaze with your majesty.

Happy Trail (mini fic)

Mihawk is not as well groomed as he usually keeps himself. You notice, and you can't help yourself.

Sir Crocodile:

My Favorite (Sir Crocodile x Reader)

Sir Crocodile has founded a league of highly trained assassins named "The Choirs" - all coded after the nine choirs of angelic influences. You are his favorite: his prized "Seraphim" who's ferocious brutality is only outmatched by your incredible beauty. Not truly knowing if your affection is all an act to continue being paid a wage in berry, he has not made a move of his own aside from calling upon you to sit on his knee of an evening, and have you utter praises into his ear. It is only when the two other members of the Cross-Guild begin flirting does he find his limit being tested. Will he bend, or will he break?

Sands of Time: Intentions of Series

Sir Crocodile thought he was safe from the intentions of the haunting Sapsorrow Queen. His soul has been laid claim, his time is running out. How can he have a stranger fall in love with his within the year? Would she truly take his sould should he fail?

When We Wake (one-shot)

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.

The Duality of Sir Crocodile (NSFW drabble)

The duality of a dominating gentleman. Spoiling and endearing, encumbering and brutal.

Warmth (One-Shot)

Misc Multiples:

Sir Crocodile is out for a walk in Arabasta with his pug, and he is stopped by a curious child who desires to pet them. As you, their guardian, approaches, Sir Crocodile is intrigued by your candor.

Intimacy (NSFW One-Shot)

Sir Crocodile is patient while you take him for the first time.

Get Well Soon (Drabble one-shot)

You're sick, and they do their best to support you through it. Zoro, Sanji, Mihawk

Please, I'll be good (one-shot)

After rescuing you in the heat of battle, he can no longer contain his desires for you. He was so good. He can keep being good if it means you'll keep kissing him.

Koby, Sanji, Corazon, Sabo, Buggy, Shachi, Ace, Penguin

How They Kiss (drabble)

Four different kisses with all of your favourites. Where would you place them in these categories?

Hallmark Piggyback (drabble)

Short piggyback on @indydonuts post about OP characters in a hallmark movie. Drabble is for Law x reader x Mihawk - amnesia trope

You're Angry at the Tall Men: Drabble (One-Shot)

He knows what he did to earn your wrath; your fury ignited in your eyes and the flames physically tangible and searing the room with your scorn. Your brow was furrowed, your lips curling into a snarl to bare your pearled teeth at him.Buggy, Shanks, Mihawk, Sir Crocodile, Corazon, Doflamingo.

An Affectionate Embrace: Drabble (One-Shot)

It was a simple reaction, an impulse you felt organic and out of your control. Their cheek was right there, and the swell in your chest and spike of adrenaline prompted you to lunge forward and capture their cheek beneath your lips. How do they react to such a soft touch? Do they shy away, or do they respond in kind?Buggy, Mihawk, Sir Crocodile, Shanks, Benn Beckman

Forehead Kisses (short drabble)

You're being a brat because they're neglecting you. Prepare to be greeted with the forehead kiss you crave from them.

Zoro, Crocodile, Kid, Killer, Beckman, Mihawk

Interrogation (crack dialogue)

Cross-Guild crack dialogue x reader

Dreaming of You (One-Shot) NSFW

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

[pseudowho]

Thinking about Takuma Ino, who becomes a father so young when you fall unexpectedly pregnant. Thinking about the fear in your eyes, the shaking hands going to hold each other's, the positive test clasped between them. The way Takuma reassures you; "it's okay, it's okay, I always wanted to be a dad...sure, not this soon-- but we'll be fine. Better than fine, we'll be great."

The way Takuma goes for a walk that night, after you've cried yourself to sleep, crouching down in an alleyway with his beanie'd head in his hands, wondering how he could possibly ever be a good father. Wanting to marry you, to do things 'right', but afraid you'd think he only wanted to marry you because of the pregnancy.

The way Takuma arrives on his mother's doorstep (the mother who raised him alone, young, single) in the dead of night, pale-faced. The way his mother holds him as he cries and apologises at the dining room table, his face in her robed chest. The way she cups his face, and stares into his eyes; "we can do this, together, the right way. You're a good boy. Now be a good man."

The way Takuma learns to be a father, from his mother, who was his whole world. The way Takuma works himself to the bone, squirrelling money away, booking in with estate agents to go and view your first home together in a way that makes your hormonal heart clench.

The way Takuma's head hits the pillow, weary after working all night, then comes straight up again as he hears you vomiting in the bathroom, kneeling behind you to stroke your hair back, holding you gently round the waist on the tiled floor; "attagirl...it'll be better soon, right? Toughest girl I know. Doin' such a great job."

The way Takuma takes up embroidery, buying cheap plain clothes for the baby, because he can't afford much, but adding small artistic touches of beauty; a frog with a toadstool hat, a little trailing succulent vine, a shooting star.

The way Takuma is bright and excited; there for every scan, every class, every milestone. The way Takuma puts on a brave face. The way Takuma hides in the staffroom at work, his head in his hands, creaking under the weight of responsibility. The way he feels a strong hand clasp his shoulder, a beige suit, a blue shirt, a leopard print tie at the corner of his eye; "I know you're going to say no...but I'd like to buy a gift. For both of you. For the baby."

The way Takuma feels so ashamed for accepting help; the way a crib, a beautiful buggy, a snug and safe car seat, all gradually arrive at your new home. The way he tries to insist on paying Nanami Kento back. Nanami naturally refuses, pretends to be inordinately interested in his newspaper.

The way Takuma can't help but buy the baby a few beanies. The way you retaliate by buying an outfit that looks just like Ino's. He is thrilled.

The way Takuma's embroidery has advanced so well, he makes four little Auspicious Beasts to hang from a mobile above the crib.

The way Takuma paints beautiful, geometric, zany black and white shapes on the wall in the baby's bedroom; "They only see black, white and red at first babe. Neat, right?"

The way Takuma is pale throughout your labour, his eyes feverish, your pain so much harder than any battle he's ever been to. The way his tears hit him in a huge whooshing breath, a head-holding groan of relief when his baby son is placed on your chest, wet and crying, a little angry clenched face. The way Takuma rests his cheek on his arm at the top of your bed, gazing down and sniffling as his son holds his finger.

The way Takuma takes you both home, proud, woefully in love, still wondering how he's ever going to grow up and be a man, without realising he's already so much more of a man than so many others in this world.

Thinking about young dad Takuma Ino.

[halfvalid]

Hey! I was wondering if you could do a live action Zoro smut where it's enemies to lovers (boy X girl). I don't mind how hardcore smut (18+?) but I would love if there was some tension (argument or fight!) 😁

speak teeth

ABOUT

| 18+ | smut | explicit |

alternate title: i need the lord

rating: explicit

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 4.9k

description: you and zoro have never gotten along. after a incident in town escaping from marines, you resolve to sort out your issues with unconventional means. (aka sex.)

tags: strawhat!reader, female reader, enemies to lovers, except it's more like frenemies to frenemies with benefits, kissing, kiss to distract trope, no use of “y/n”, reader calls zoro "roronoa", penis in vagina sex, creampie, pwp, cowgirl position

author’s note: thanks for the request! i kind of lost the plot on this one because i'm terrible at writing enemies-to-lovers and there's not much 'lovers' involved in this since i couldn't exactly fit that into a oneshot. hopefully you still like it anyway? i tried my best.

tags make it seem so much worse than it actually is.

Roronoa Zoro did not like you. 

The feeling was mutual, so you didn’t mind the fact, really. Zoro was annoying, with his three swords, and that stupid low voice, and how he never seemed interested in conversation unless it was either about alcohol or beating someone up. You were undoubtedly annoying to him for various reasons not so different in number to your own grievances of his personality. You two didn’t like each other. It was fine. It was normal. 

It was pissing off the rest of the Straw Hat crew. 

In your defense, you were never outwardly aggressive towards the man. You didn’t purposely exclude him from conversations or avoid looking at him if he dared haunt a room you were in with his presence. You just… didn’t speak to him unless spoken to. And maybe you had a tendency to roll your eyes or mutter some insults when he was talking, but it wasn’t that big of an issue. 

Zoro, on the other hand, was a master of discord. He’d killed and hunted so many people it only made sense for him to be, but it seemed he hadn’t skipped his lessons in petty fights either. Because he was bullheaded and a buzzkill and always opened his big mouth when you were around. Those sarcastic remarks of his were common, sure, but when you were in the room they were tenfold and laced with genuine venom. 

You weren’t sure who’d even started the strife between you two. It had been so long that you’d forgotten. While everyone else had seemingly bonded after your journey together, you and Zoro remained firmly in the stage you’d been while trapped in Buggy’s green room—antagonistic. Obviously you didn’t hate each other—when Zoro had nearly died to Mihawk, you hadn’t been happy—but you didn’t get along, and both of you were just fine with that arrangement. 

Nobody else was, though.

And so obviously you didn’t like it when Luffy announced, as you were docked, that you were assigned to scout the surrounding village together. Your lips twisted, but you refrained from saying anything up until Luffy finished his speech with: “And that’s the plan! Any objections?” 

There were head shakes from all around the deck of the Going Merry. You eyed Zoro in the very corner—his arms were crossed, and carefully he raised a hand, just barely lifting it into the air as he motioned. “Why is she coming with me?” 

You bit your tongue, suppressing the irritated sigh that threatened to escape. “Because,” Luffy said, bright as ever, “You two need to learn how to be friends. Think of it as a bonding activity!” 

“I’d really rather go with Sanji,” you optioned, trying to be more civil than Zoro at least. “He could use a hand carrying the stock barrels.” 

“Nope,” Luffy chirped. “It makes most sense for the two of you to be the one to buy the weapons, anyway.” 

“He’s right. You both are the most knowledgeable on the subject,” Nami whispered, though she gave you an apologetic look. You sighed. Zoro opted to say nothing. 

“Fine. Let’s go, Roronoa,” you said, getting up off the Going Merry’s railing to start walking off the ship. You heard Zoro grumble from behind you, but he soon caught up. You said absolutely nothing to each other for the first few minutes of walking, keeping to yourselves until you eventually reached the market. 

“What kind of weapons are we looking for?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at the man who trailed just barely behind you. “I know Luffy wants backups, but did he say specifically what?” 

“Probably a few guns, maybe some swords,” Zoro replied. “A katana for me. Extra staff for Nami, in case hers breaks.” 

“Right. Nami gave me five-hundred thousand berry. Let’s spend it wisely. No pit stops.” 

Zoro gave you a look. “It’s not like I’m going to slip into the nearest tavern and abandon you. Luffy said we go together, so we go together.” 

“Right.” You turned away so you could roll your eyes in private. You had to appreciate that, at least; Zoro’s loyalty to Luffy at least meant he wouldn’t be a bitch to you if Luffy told him not to, and Nami kept you more or less under wraps too. “Pistols first. Let’s just get two, and save the rest for a sword because those are more pricey.” 

Focusing on business was fine. You could be a responsible adult and not be petty. And it really did go okay for the first half-hour, wherein you bartered one of the weapons sellers down to a reasonable price for two pistols and also picked up a bo staff on the way.

You were just heading towards another district of the town when Zoro slowed to a stop. You glanced over to see what he was looking at—a wall pasted with bounty posters, various pirates plastered on paper with big numbers shouting out their worth. 

“Look, it’s Luffy,” you said, eyes catching a bundle of posters near the top. Sure enough, all six members of the Straw Hat crew were there. You noticed with distaste that Zoro’s bounty was higher than yours.

Zoro tore all of the posters off, and you were almost surprised when he took yours off too. He crumpled them up into balls, about to toss them behind his shoulder before you grabbed them, carefully tucking them away in your bag. “What’s that for?” he asked. 

“So I can shoot darts at your face,” you replied. “Come on. Should finish and get back to the ship before anyone recognizes us.” 

Zoro shrugged, but followed you as you led him to the closest armory you could find. The shop was small and rickety, and a silver bell announced your presence as you entered the building. There were blades of every kind in the shop; you could see a table of knives and daggers, along with a stand full of long swords by the front. Near the back, you glimpsed some hanging rapiers, and—

“Katanas,” Zoro muttered, pushing past you to slip to the back of the store. You sighed, but followed, glancing over the array of jians instead. Zoro was already picking one up and pulling it out of its sheath, checking the quality of the blade. 

“Don’t—” you hissed, and he glanced up at you, brow raised in question as he spun the blade around in his hand. “You’re going to knock something over.” 

Zoro sheathed the sword, a satisfying click filling the room with the motion. “Calm down.” 

“I am calm,” you snapped. “If you’d just stop stomping around with those big boots of yours, though—” 

Zoro looked far less affected by the entire ordeal than you did, and that pissed you off even more. Logically, you knew he didn’t show much emotion in general, and even his annoyances tended to be deep and quiet—but still. He strung the katana back up where it belonged. “I am not stomping.” 

“Yes, you are—” You cut yourself off as the bell of the store rang again, announcing the arrival of more patrons. These two were whispering to each other, gruff voices that sounded almost scared. “He came in here, right?” One of them asked the other. “Are you sure it’s him?” 

“He tore down his own wanted poster!” The other hissed back. 

You caught onto what was happening quickly, letting a sigh out from between your teeth and grabbing onto Zoro’s arm to yank him further back into the store. You turned a corner, where a narrow hall cut off at a dead end, a wardrobe of swords blocking off the area to any prying eyes. “Now look at what you did,” you grumbled, before you could stop yourself. “You’ve got fucking bounty hunters after us.” You glanced through the stands of swords for a double take—the pair were standing at the front, outfitted in familiar white-and-blue uniforms. “Scratch that, even worse. Marines.” 

“I can take them in a fight,” Zoro muttered, hand going to his swords. You grabbed his wrist and gave him a look. 

“No. We’re not due to leave the docks for another two days,” you snapped. “Can you figure out a way to get out of a situation without stabbing someone?” 

“How can you be sure it was him, though? The Demon?” The more timid marine asked. They’d started moving, and you shoved Zoro into the corner, attempting to hide his ridiculously broad figure with an armoire of weapons. He scoffed, but made no move to adjust, back flat against the wall.

“He had the three swords. And the three earrings, too. Of course it was him,” the other one replied. You rolled your eyes. 

“Ever try being a little less obvious, Roronoa?” you muttered, shooting another glare in Zoro’s direction. “You’re like a flashing red light for every marine within a two-mile radius with your stupid swords. I’m Roronoa Zoro, the pirate hunter!” 

“I don’t hear you yelling at Luffy to take his hat off,” Zoro hissed back. 

“They’re coming this way,” you answered, entirely ignoring his retort. “Hide your stupid swords. Shove them behind a stand or something.” 

“I don’t see why we can’t just—” 

“No fighting.” You swiveled around, tugging his holsters off his belt and tossing the swords behind him with a graceless clatter. Zoro just sighed. “Shit,” you muttered as the marines turned at the noise, starting to move towards the back of the store.

“Now look at what you did,” Zoro mumbled, mocking your words straight back at you. You glared at him. 

“Shut up and stay put,” you snapped. “Let me think of something.” The marines were coming closer, and you huffed out a nervous breath. Zoro watched you from his position. 

“They know your face, too,” he said carefully. Almost derisively, like he was looking down on your idea; making you seem stupid. “Just let me fight them. It makes the most sense.” The footsteps grew louder, then, the marines moving towards the back of the store. 

“I think I heard voices,” one of them muttered to the other. You shushed Zoro, unconsciously moving closer to him until your arm bumped into his. You startled, and then looked up, finding Zoro’s chest just inches away from your face. 

“Is this some new sort of hiding tactic?” Zoro asked, voice dry as a desert. “Are you trying to melt us into the wall—” 

The voices tapered off as the marines moved closer. Your hand shot up to cradle Zoro’s face, covering his dangling gold earrings with your fingers to hide them away. “Fuck this,” Zoro muttered, leaning back to pick up his swords. You shushed him, and he stopped, bent halfway over you so your faces were just inches apart. 

“Just trust me,” you snapped. Zoro opened his mouth to argue, but then the marines’ footsteps got louder—they’d turn the corner any moment now. 

“Fine,” he breathed. “But if it doesn’t work, I’m taking out my swords.” 

Your mind ran a million miles a minute trying to figure out what to do. The marines were just around the corner now, and your breath caught, eyes meeting Zoro’s as you wracked your brain for something, anything that might distract the marines away from the two of you. Zoro’s lips parted, a split-second away from undoubtedly whispering some grand insult when the marines finally turned the corner.

You were kissing Zoro before you could even think. 

“Oh,” one of the marines said, as your fingers nearly pinched Zoro’s earlobe, still covering his earrings. Zoro was frozen for a moment, but the marines behind you seemed startled enough that he realized it was working. A rush of satisfaction filled you for a moment—see, Roronoa, you don’t have to stab shit all the time—before Zoro was kissing you back.

And. Well. You’d started it, but you had not anticipated this. 

Zoro was almost rough, his hand curling around the nape of your neck and tugging you down closer to him. His other hand came to rest on your waist, so impossibly big around your torso that you shivered. What had started out as a simple kiss slipped into one all messy, your breaths coming out in sharp gasps as Zoro barely gave you a moment to breathe. 

His teeth dug into your lip, and you groaned into his mouth, tongue darting along his gums with the motion. He snickered at that, and you felt a little bundle of vexation starting at the pit of stomach at the sound. You ran your tongue into the crevices of his mouth, licking into him with ease. Another rush of satisfaction filled you as Zoro’s grip tightened on your waist. You were winning.

He fought back just as hard, practically merciless as his tongue slid against yours, prying into your mouth like he was trying to bare you empty of secrets. You felt stripped raw like this, but it wasn’t a terrible feeling—the opposite, actually, soft whimpers leaving your lungs as he dug more fiercely into you. Zoro sucked on your lower lip with teeth, and you barely managed to suppress the stuttered sound it tugged out from the back of your throat. 

There were hasty footsteps receding somewhere behind you, which was the only sound that snapped you out of your motions. You were the first to break away—another score gained there—glancing over your shoulder to ensure the marines had really left before fully detaching yourself from Zoro. The silver bell rung again, signaling the marines had made their exit, and you let out a relieved sigh. 

Zoro glanced over your shoulder, straightening his clothes as his tongue ran along his top teeth. The top teeth you’d had your tongue on just seconds ago. “If you wanted to kiss me, you could’ve just said so.” 

“I did not—” You sucked in a breath, all your general irritated feelings towards the man coming back at full force with just that one sentence. “Shut the fuck up. I got us out of the situation, didn’t I?” 

“You have questionable methods,” Zoro replied, leaning over to pick up his abandoned swords and strap them back along his hip. “Don’t think about that all night.” 

“You were not that good of a kisser,” you snapped, though you could feel your face getting hot. Your mouth tingled, like you could still taste him on your tongue; on your teeth; in your gums. There was a vaguely empty sensation at the curve of your waist you tried your best to ignore. “Don’t be so full of yourself. Roronoa. Now pick a sword to buy so we can leave already.”

Zoro seemed irritated, but he complied, brushing past you to inspect a few more of the swords before picking out one. You paid for it as quickly as possible, in a rush to get back to the ship; not even trying to talk the salesman down from his price like you usually would. 

Zoro followed you languidly, absolutely nothing urgent about his motions as you trailed after you back through the village. You wanted to uppercut him so badly. 

“Oh, there you guys are,” Usopp said upon stepping foot back onto the Going Merry. You shot him an apologetic smile before breezing past, beelining for your bedroom without a second thought. “Uh—okay! You good?” he called after you, but you were too far away to respond at this point. 

You slammed the door of your room shut upon entering, heaving out a breath of jumbled emotion all in one go. Fuck Roronoa Zoro and his three stupid swords and his three stupid earrings. He was the most lumbering, bullheaded oaf you’d ever had the displeasure of engaging with. 

He’d been a ridiculously good kisser. Now you hated him even more. 

You locked yourself in your room for the next four hours, busying yourself with various tasks whilst simultaneously seething over Zoro. It wasn’t even that he’d done anything specifically to you in the past. You just—didn’t get along, really. He was irritating, and stupid, and always tried to solve his problems with a blade rather than attempting to use his wits. Not that he had any wits of any kind. He was—

He was, as you were starting to find out, kind of attractive. Which. Okay. You’d known his face was at least easy on the eyes, despite his personality and general attitude not retaining the same qualities. But this was an entirely unappreciated development. 

Someone knocked on your door, snapping you out of your irritated haze. The sun had nearly set, a kiss of dusk coming in from outside as you shuffled over to the door. You yanked it open. “What—”

Zoro was standing in the doorway, arm propped against the side and keeping your door open even as you attempted to close it on him. “Roronoa.” 

“You’re hiding,” Zoro said, a tinge of mirth just barely visible in his eyes. You glared at him. 

“I am not.” 

“Do you have to disagree with everything I say?” Zoro asked. He was still wearing his swords even now, though he’d dressed down as the hour grew late. “You skipped dinner.” 

“Leave me alone,” you muttered. 

Zoro took that as an invitation to step fully into the room. “I told the rest of the crew about the marines,” he said, and you flinched. “Not about that. Just that we got away. Nami wants to leave tomorrow evening now, so we’ll be busy.” 

You stared at him, suspicious right from the start. “And you care enough to tell me? Did someone put you up to this?” 

Zoro stiffened. “I just thought you might want to know.” 

Your eyes narrowed. He looked as normal as ever—face blank, leaving no expression to be seen. But his muscles were tenser than usual, and the veins running up his arm were prominent, like his hand was tightened into a fist where it hid away in his pocket. “You have ulterior motives.”

“You’re so annoying,” Zoro muttered, but he didn’t budge. You scoffed. 

“What, are you here to admit that you were wrong and my plan really did get us away from the marines?” you asked, voice sugary sweet as you riled him up. His jaw clenched, a vein tracing up his neck bulging with the pressure. “You don’t need to inflate my ego—”

Zoro moved across the room swiftly, and you stumbled back in surprise as he pinned you to the wall, hand tight around your arm. Your words died in your throat as his lips sealed over yours with a bruising kiss. His fingers dug into the skin of your bicep—tight, but not tight enough to hurt. 

“I don’t need to inflate your ego,” Zoro snapped, finishing your sentence from where it’d died on your lips. “You do that enough yourself.” 

You stared at him, the tingle of his lips still left as an afterthought on your mouth. “If you’re going to make out with me, take your fucking swords off.” 

Zoro barely suppressed an eye roll, hands working at his belt to slide his holsters off from his hip. “What’s your problem with them?” 

“I think your emotional dependency on a bunch of oversized butter knifes—”

Zoro’s head jerked up, eyes dark when they met yours. “Don’t call them that.” 

You couldn’t resist the quip off your tongue. “You asked.” 

Zoro slowly made his way across the room again, steps careful and languid as he moved closer. “I take it back,” he said, voice a near whisper, every word crisp on his tongue. You shivered. 

This time, you expected it when he kissed you. He wasn’t careful with it, and you didn’t want it any other way—your arms wrapped around the back of his neck, tugging him down closer to you. It got aggressive quick, his fingers coming down to clutch your waist, one of your hands tight around the locks of his hair as you pried open his mouth with your tongue. 

Neither of you complied easily, both trying to get the better of the other. Zoro’s tongue forced itself into your mouth before you tugged on his lower lip with teeth. Both his hands came to wrap around your waist, now, hoisting you up and onto your hanging bed in the center of the room. His fingers dug in hard enough to leave bruises. 

Zoro abandoned your mouth in favor of your neck, biting open-mouthed kisses into your jawline before moving down your jugular. Each one was more hasty than the last, wet and warm with licks of tongue and scrapes of teeth. You didn’t bother moving to give him better access—he had to do that himself, a large hand coming to rest on the back of your skull and pulling your head back to bare the rest of your neck to him. You heard him mutter something in Japanese—probably some obscenity, which pleased you more than you’d like to admit. 

His kisses stopped at the hinge of your neck and shoulder, Zoro pausing to lean over and work his fingers up your spine. They danced over the clasp of your shirt, and you had to choke back a wry laugh, surprised. “I thought the Demon just took what he wanted,” you murmured. 

Zoro didn’t seem to like that. He started unfastening the buttons going down the back of your top. “At least I was polite enough to ask,” he muttered. 

“Just take my clothes off already,” you said, and he stopped his work, leaning back to glare into your eyes. You let out an annoyed sigh, and he rolled his eyes, going back to what he’d been doing. “Are we going to talk about it?” you asked, eyeing Zoro’s chest in front of you. 

You pressed a kiss to his neck, sucking at the skin before grazing it ever-so-slightly with your teeth. His throat hitched under your mouth. 

“Nope,” he grunted, finally unclasping the last button and pulling your top over your head. Since you didn’t have an issue with that arrangement, you didn’t say anything, even as Zoro practically shoved you flat on your back. 

“Rude,” you muttered. Zoro didn’t bother apologizing; he just leaned down to take your breast in his mouth, tongue circling around your nipple. You weren’t fast enough to suppress your gasp this time—a point in Zoro’s favor then, one you allowed with a bitter taste on your tongue. Zoro’s mouth formed a smile against your skin. You brought your knee up between his legs, shoving into his crotch in retaliation. 

“Stop,” Zoro hissed, the consonants of the words brushing across your skin when he spoke. You ignored him, and he let out a groan, hand clamping around your thigh to keep you from moving. “Do you have to be such a brat?” 

“I am not a brat.” You hooked your ankle around his, causing him to slip from where he lay suspended above you, mouths mashing in another too-aggressive facsimile of a kiss. “You’re just a gigantic manwhore with an overinflated ego.” 

“You did not just call me—” You shut him up with another kiss, teeth digging deep into the inner gums of his lip. You ran your hands up the sides of Zoro’s figure, trying your hardest to ignore the stiff muscles of his ribcage. He wasn’t that well-built. He wasn’t even that attractive, you tried to convince yourself. Still, you found the buttons of his shirt, trying to unfasten them quicker than Zoro had with yours. 

One of them caught, and Zoro had the audacity to laugh. You grumbled something incoherent under your breath, tugging his shirt off all the way and tossing it somewhere behind you. “Shut up.” 

“You’ve been the one complaining this entire time,” Zoro replied easily. He leaned down, tugging at your trousers to pull them off, pressing sloppy kisses down your torso now. You resisted the urge to say something in response, knowing it would just give him the satisfaction of being right. Were your points tied now? You couldn’t remember. 

Zoro had pulled your pants down to your knees by now, and you kicked them off all the way, watching as he pushed them off the bed and leaned down to work at the inward slope of your hip. You shivered, legs trembling as you felt your core grow tight, the cloth of your underwear already wet with anticipation. Seeing the ever-steadying tent in Zoro’s pants made you feel just a little bit better, and you were nice enough to let a stuttering moan out as his tongue licked down to the band of your panties. 

He pulled your underwear all the way off, then, but to your distaste completely ignored your fully exposed core to unbutton his own pants instead. “I hate you,” you muttered. 

Zoro stopped in the middle of what he was doing, pants halfway down his thighs and length already out. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, voice careful—you could still hear the mocking tone beyond the coolness of his voice, though, and your jaw clenched in irritation. “Did you want something?” 

“Yeah, for you to shut the fuck up.” You pushed yourself up by the elbows, grabbing one of Zoro’s arms and yanking him down onto the mattress. You used both hands to strip him of the last of his clothes—God, his legs were long—before returning to press your own open-mouthed bruises along his neck. His hips bucked up against yours, insistently chasing any friction, but you tightened a grip on his thigh to get him to stop. “Give me a second.” 

“I don’t like that I’m suddenly under you,” Zoro said drily, and you could feel the words as they formed in his throat, still biting hickeys into his skin. You rolled your eyes, lips disconnecting from skin with a dull pop.

“Deal with it, Roronoa. I’m not moving.” With that, you finally reached down to coax his legs apart, hovering your core over his hips as you lined your entrance up with his length. 

There was an audible hitch of breath on Zoro’s part as you sunk onto him. Point. 

One of his hands tangled in your hair when you started moving, the other coming to press on the small of your back as you worked yourself up and down around him. For the complaining he’d done about the position, he didn’t seem so bothered about it, pulling you into a rough kiss. 

You bit back with force, breath escaping you as your hips bucked against Zoro’s. The wet pool in your lower belly only grew stronger with every thrust, pressure building up inside of you as Zoro’s tongue ran across your teeth. You moaned freely now, too lost in the daze of your pleasure to remember to be annoying. Evidently Zoro felt the same way—he swallowed every one of your gasps up, grunting as you pulsed around him.

Your hips stuttered, thigh muscles contracting with the effort as you clenched down on Zoro. Still, you pushed through even as your muscles started to tire, encouraged by the deep, throaty sounds that escaped Zoro's lips between each kiss. He was big, filling you up damn near wholeheartedly, the crevices inside of you seeming to mould to his skin as you worked yourself on him.

Zoro started moving against you, and you gasped as his angle changed, somehow reaching farther in your body and causing tingles to erupt all along your skin. Your mind buzzed as he thrust into you with renewed vigor, core pulsing as you felt yourself come closer and closer to the edge. 

You came all at once, teeth biting down in Zoro’s mouth before you parted from him. You let out a gasping moan, attempting to toss your head back as stars burst across your vision. Zoro’s hand in your hair dragged you back into a kiss, though; this one was slower, less teeth this time, like him coming had lessened the urge to bite. 

Your movements slowed, coming to rest against Zoro’s skin, warm and—although you wouldn’t say so out loud—almost comfortable. His hand hadn’t budged from where it was pressed against your lower back, holding you tight to him. 

There was a sticky wetness spreading fast by your thighs, and you grimaced, lifting yourself off of Zoro and rolling beside him on your back in one fluid motion. He stifled a groan at the movement, clearly irritated at the fact you hadn’t given any warning. 

You lay there, breath heaving, rising out your high and making no move to touch the man laying by your side. 

After you’d regained some of your dignity, you sat up, eyes narrowing at Zoro. “Get off my bed.” 

Zoro gave you an exasperated look, but he didn’t argue; he just climbed off your bed, retrieving his clothes from where you’d tossed them about the room. He donned them slowly, like he had all the time in the world. Your eyes traced along his figure while he did, and you only felt sort of annoyed by it. 

“I still hate you,” you snapped, after he’d finished changing. Zoro just scoffed, picking up his swords and slinging them across one shoulder. You could see a bruise purpling by his neck. At least you’d done damage. 

“Fine by me,” he replied, straightening his shirt and giving you a look—not quite irritated, not quite sarcastic. “Dinner’s still waiting for you.” 

You glared at his back as he opened the door to your bedroom. “Get lost, Roronoa,” you said, and that was that. 

© halfvalid 2023

[kaivenom]

Hi! I love the way you write characters sm! I wanted to ask if you could do some sfw and nsfw headcanons for mihawk ❤️ (thusis my first request ever so i have NO idea how to make one 😩)

Dating Dracule Mihawk HCS

A/N: Well, thanks for the compliment and for letting me be your first request. Here are your headcannonns (i think it got long, i really like this man)

Masterlist

SFW

I think the reason you both met is becuase an argument: with you and other people or with him and you, physical or ethical it doesn't matter.

The thing is that your spirit makes him seem you worthy for a chat.

That chat transformed in ocasional meet ups and then in exchanging den den mushis.

If you confess first, he will just nod and kiss you slowly and gently.

If he confesses first, he will try to do it like the old way: setting up a date, buying flowers and/or chocolate and ask you formaly.

But that would take sometime cause he knows he is a wanted men, even if he is powerfull he knows that life isn't for everyone.

It doesn't matter if you are a pirate, a marine or just a simple villager, at first your relationship will be long distance.

He will ask you to move in with him eventually, because he travels a lot and plus he lives in a castle (i have a whole post about him asking you to move on, check it out) so, after staying multiple times at your places, he decides that you should be in his.

He is a very loyal and capable lover, he knows you like the palm of his hand, somehow.

He may not be the biggest on comunication but he is an excelent listener, even if you didn't think of it at first. Something you said months ago, check, a gift you wanted and you even forgot, check.

He is a big yes on gifts and little details, he lefts them all over the castle for you to find.

He loves your noise, i mean, he is a very silent and calm person but you bring a whole new world to him and that makes him love you, even if he didn't join you in your noise he likes to watch it.

He won't be a lot into iniciating PDA but he won't complain if you do it. In fact, you were nervous at first about him not iniciating it but when you learned that, you just sit on his lap and hug him while he lays his hand on your back.

His kisses aren't savage or animalistic, they are more studied and deep. If he kisses you one time in a heated moment, he will leave you breathless, like he has kissed your soul.

Things with Mihawk take time and comunication, even if it's non-verbal comunication, but it's completely worth it.

His favourite nicknames for you while probably be just to formal or traditional: my love, my partner, my pair, my husband/wife. He is a man of manners, but a little possesive too.

Speaking of jealousy, he says he isn't, he says that you are a grown adult and you can do what you want. But in reality, he can get a little frustated, speacially if it's Buggy or Crocodile.

Crocodile is as cold as him but it's a little more sarcastic and Buggy it's "noisy" so you laugh a lot with him, and that makes him a little mad because you don't laugh like that with him.

You say to him "it doesn't matter, i prefer the silence with you" and he just wants to marry you right there.

Marriage it's just something that doesn't cross his mind a lot. You are his partner and you are happy with him, you both live in a castle, etc but,

If you value marriage he will propose to you. The ring, the ceremony and all the honey moon stuff, but when you came back everything will be the same.

Except that you are now officially his partner and if you are happy with that then he is.

From time to time you try to make him laugh with bad jokes, you even started to research about every kind of humour and started doing experiments... at the end he laughed about some stupid thing his discipule Zoro did with his crew.

You just love his laugh so you are always present when he is reading the news from that moment.

NSFW

He isn't very comunicative thru words and getting to know his likes with his body language it's really difficult.

So, you are very nervous about getting intimate with him, you don't know if he is even interested in that.

One day he just sees you getting lost on your thoughts and asks you about it, you tell him about your concerns about it and he just say "hum".

You couldn't believe how he was so bold about it, and you got even a little mad.

Then, a couple of hours later you were doing some dishes and he approached you from behind. His hands roaming your body and his mouth leaving wet kisses on your neck. You were really flustered and he just pressed himself against you, with his hard on.

Since that moment, you started to get more and more the little details which demostrate his need for you.

His eyes darkening in a strange way, like when he goes into battle, it makes your skin get goosebumps; his touches staying a little longer or a little tougher on you; his abruptly necesity to have you next to him all afternoon; how he spreads his legs instead of keeping his perfect pose.

He doesn't do any sound in bed at first. One day you had to aproach him about it and then he started to make some noise... mostly grunts, groans and gasps.

Like i mentioned on the top, his kisses are deep, all his afection his deep.

Make up sessions with him makes you breathless, he couldn't kiss you as much as past lovers but the sensation it's the triple.

You swear you can just come with his touches and kisses. Picture yourself with your face pressed against a wall while he kisses your neck with intensity and dry humps you with his fingers pressing into your erogenous areas with precision.

Definitely an ass men, he will make you walk in front of him sometimes just to check you ass. *with respect*

In fact, your ass is the only thing that makes him a pervert. He will come home from a long journey and just lay on the bed placing his head on your ass... which can later lead to other things.

I think he is a grower and that means you were surprised the first time you both do the deed, but being so good with his fingers and mouth makes him good with his dick too.

In reality he prefers to pleasure you with his tongue and hands than his dick. I picture him seeing sex as a form for people to use each other. He knows he can be a men a little difficult so he wants to pleasure you as much as he can with making you feel validated.

Sir or Mister kink, Dom/sub dinamics, a little sword and blood kink (never hurting you in reality) and even a little roleplay but never degradation or humilliating kink.

He likes to see your face and expresion so missionary, cowgirl or any other position with your eyes meeting is good for him.

He says he likes the bedroom but he is the owner of a whole island sooo he may sometimes just have a slip and take things out of the chambers (until Perona came)

[the-obnoxious-sibling]

Do you think buggy feels towards shanks shining so bright it was stupid for buggy to even follow his dreams was only his thoughts or was it “encouraged” by other people around him?

ah, you want to know if i think the roger pirates preferred shanks, and if so how subtle they were about it.

while i do think some fans are very quick to assume ill intent from characters we've gotten no dialogue let alone characterization for, i honestly don't think we can know one way or another without getting more perspective on the roger pirates from someone who isn't buggy.

like, sure, maybe they disliked him and distrusted him as much as he did them. (we can't forget how eager buggy was to leave the crew the minute he thought he'd found financial independence.) maybe he was a bad cultural fit, too scheming and greedy for what appears to have been a fairly honest and carefree crew. maybe the roger crew wasn't as perfectly convivial as it seems in contrast with the unfriendly to the point of antagonism rocks pirates.

or maybe buggy is in a goob situation. y'all know that bit from meet the robinsons, right?

sometimes a character can get so caught up in their own pity party, their own negative self image, that they ignore reality when it disagrees with them. buggy might have been so set in his ways re: his inferiority complex that he saw insults and belittling where none was happening. (this feels quite plausible in buggy's case in particular: look at how quick he is to hear people talking about his nose when they aren't!)

oden's diary is the only other perspective we've gotten on the roger pirates during buggy's lifetime, and buggy doesn't get much individual focus. the closest we get to an insight is when buggy complains about being called buggyjiro, since jiro means second son and he doesn't want to be ranked below shanks.

…but buggy is younger than shanks. oden's treating them like "sons" of the crew by using -taro and -jiro with their names, and birth order is the obvious way to assign those roles. so that objection just comes off as buggy being overly sensitive about where he and shanks rank.

now, could buggy be that sensitive because of being teased or belittled by the crew in the past? maybe! or maybe buggy was one of those kids who didn't know how to play a game without first establishing how to win it, who got competitive over every little thing, even things that were entirely out of his control.

without someone else telling us about those days, i really don't think we can know the truth.

[tallulah477]

Pretty, But Not Stupid

Extra of Hunting the Tawtute

Kinkmas Day 10: Breath Play

Pairing: Lo’ak x Fem!Human!Reader

Word Count: 3.8K

Warnings: AgedUp!Lo’ak, Dark!Lo’ak, ***NON-CON***, Dub-Con, Breath Play, Choking, Size Difference, Alien Genitalia, Oral (male receiving), P in V, Belly Bulge, Creampie, Scenting, Mention of knots (but no knotting yet), Slight threesome (and Dark!Neteyam), Mentions of death/dead bodies, Reader is not having a good time (although idk...i think she’s having a great time), Mentions of war

A/N: Guess who’s back, besties!! Been MIA, slacking on prompts, and about to lose my fucking mind with all my family around, but I somehow got this done and I’m about to read as many fics as I can before someone else demands my attention.

A/N 2: This was not intended to be a full Part 2 yet, but it's way too long to be called a drabble. So I’m calling it an extra for now until I decide what to call it lmao. Hope y’all like it 🧡

A/N 3: DEDICATED TO @oakbuggy AND THEIR AMAZING ARTWORK (Everyone stop reading and go look at their art rn, all of them are god-tier but the one for Hunting the Tawtute definitely holds a special place in my heart. Thank you again, Buggy! You're amazing!)

Summary: With their father’s impending retirement as Olo’eyktan, Neteyam has more responsibilities to the clan and less time to see his favorite human. Thankfully, Lo’ak is there to pick up the slack.

**PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS - DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ**

Translations:

Vrrtep - Demon

Tawtute - Human

Sevin - Pretty

Palulukan - Apex predator resembling a lion or panther

(Mountain) Banshee/Ikran - Large, dragon-like aerial predators

Mawey - Calm

Narlor - Beautiful

Tam tam - Calm, be content, there there

Srane - Yes

Yawne - Beloved

Paskalin - Sweet berry (term of endearment)

Their father is stepping down as clan leader - at least that’s what Lo’ak tells you when he comes to visit you in the isolated hut the brothers have set up for you on the side of a cliff face. It was for your own protection, they told you. You couldn’t stay in the village yet, their father would never allow it, and you clearly couldn’t be trusted not to run away if they built you something on the forest floor. 

“Tawtutes with their tiny brains are stupid,” Neteyam had sneered as he hauled your combined weight up the cliff side. Your arms locked around his neck tightly, legs wrapped around his lithe torso as your eyes squeezed shut, determined not to look at the insane height you were being pulled to. “You might think to run away and then become the next meal of a hungry Palulukan.”

“Nah, bro,” Lo’ak said, the grin on his face audible in his teasing words as he climbed up the cliff behind you, ready to catch you if you decided to end it all right there and try your hand at plummeting to your death, no doubt. “Our little vrrtep would never run from us. Right, sevin?”

The hut they built for you was as cozy as it could be. Assembled further into the cave and away from the treacherous cliff side, thick material wrapped around sturdy posts to keep out any harsh weather that the cave itself couldn’t keep out. They’d given you plenty of blankets, assuring you that even though your human nose can’t smell it, their scent is all over them.

“To keep you smelling like us, when we can’t be here to do it ourselves.”

But they’re always around, day after day they come for you. Lo’ak grinning a deceivingly sweet smile and Neteyam’s amber eyes burning holes into your face as they grab at you, pulling you towards them as they all but rip off the loincloth and chest covering they gave you, baring your marked up body to their hungry gazes. They spread you open, fucking you and fucking you until you’re a crying overstimulated mess, drooling and teary under your mask as they fill you up. 

They know exactly how to touch you, where to press, where to rub, where you’re most sensitive. They learned how to play with your body better than you could ever know how, dragging orgasm after orgasm out of your trembling, exhausted body until your left limp and they’ve decided they’ve had enough for the day. 

Your body still struggles to take their cocks (although they love to tell you that you were made for it - “made to be our little cocksleeve”). Your only saving grace is that they’re still not sure if they can knot you. They’ve gotten close to trying, instincts desperate to push that large ball of tissue at the base of their cocks inside your already stuffed to the brim pussy. You feel how they test the resistance, pushing juuuusttt a little deeper, the swollen knot stretching you even farther than you ever thought you could stretch before they back off. 

When they fill you full of their cum, it’s with their own hand squeezing tightly around the knot. 

Usually, it’s both of them. This time, you’re shocked to see only Lo’ak climbing over the edge of the cliff. 

“Neteyam sends his regrets,” Lo’ak says, kneeling down to wrap his arms around your body and press his face into your neck. His flat nose presses against your rapidly increasing pulse point and breathes in your scent. “He said to tell you that he’s sorry he won’t be able to visit you today, but that he’ll make sure to come see your pretty face and fill your tight pussy tomorrow.”

Your face flushes hot at his words, shivering when his nose slides up to nudge just behind your ear, but you stay silent. 

“But that’s good news for me,” He continues. “Because that means I get you all to myself for tonight.”

Neteyam isn’t coming to visit you today because their father is stepping down as clan leader, which means increased training, more hours at council meetings, and less time to sneak off with his captive human. 

“What does that mean?” You can’t help but ask. Lo’ak’s hands smooth down your sides, large palms dragging over your bare skin until they’re squeezing your ass. Your voice cracks at the feel, but you push on, your eyes doing their best to keep contact with his bright amber ones. “Your father stepping down? What does that . . .” 

What does that mean for me?

“Nothing you have to worry about right now,” He says.

Without warning, he stands, pulling you with him so your legs wrap around his torso as he supports you with a hand on your ass. A loud yip rips from his throat, echoing through the cave as he walks you both towards the cliff’s edge. The responding roaring shriek makes you cower against him as the large dragon-like animal lands on the platform behind you, wings flapping hard against the wind. 

“We’re going on an adventure,” Lo’ak says as he walks you closer to the banshee. You whimper, arms locking around his neck so tight you’d think you would be choking him if you could think straight. But you’re not, head whipped around staring wide eyed at the monstrous creature as it turns its head sideways to stare back at you. 

“Lo’ak, no,” You beg through gritted teeth, but he ignores you as he approaches the banshee, his hand settling lovingly on its snout. 

“Mawey,” he coos, carefully rubbing along the blue leathery skin on the banshee’s snout, but you’re not sure if he’s trying to calm the large animal or you. “Mawey, narlor,”

“Lo’ak, no,” You plead, still clinging to his upper body. Tears pool in your eyes and a panicked whimper escapes your lips when you feel the puffing breath of the mountain banshee on your back. “Please, please, no!”

But you’re ignored again, even when your body goes rigid at the feel of that rounded snout pressing against the curve of your spine, hot exhales practically burning your skin as the banshee sniffs at you. Fuck, fuck–you could die. Right now, you could die in a second, that snout pressing into your skin could disappear, replaced with dual rows of long curved teeth that would take only a second to open and bite down and rip you clean in half. 

You can hear the smile in Lo’ak’s voice from where your mask is digging into his collarbone, his soft murmurs of encouragement loud even through your terrified thoughts. “Srane, tam tam. Look at my two beautiful girls, getting along so well.”

He moves swiftly, not leaving room for any more pleading as he bonds with his banshee and climbs on, bringing your clinging body with him. The rush of air as the large animal takes flight makes you squeeze Lo’ak tighter, desperate for safety as you feel the wind bat at your back as the banshee cuts through the sky like a bullet from a gun. 

“Is this all it takes for you to cling to me, sevin?” Lo’ak teases as he rests a secure hand on your trembling figure, all five fingers spread so wide that they nearly span the entirety of your back. “A little ikran ride and I get you all cuddled up, nice and close?”

You ignore his dig, teeth clenching together as you fight to find your voice around the wind rushing around your ears. “W-where are we going?”

Lo’ak nudges his chin against the top of your head. “You’ll see,”

The flight feels like hours. Hours of watching miles and miles of trees and forest thousands of meters below from over Lo’ak’s shoulder. Logically, you know you’re exaggerating. It hasn’t been hours, and even though you’re still high enough to die as a splat on the ground if you were to fall, it's probably not as high as it feels. But heights have never been your friend, and frankly, neither has time management. 

It’s only when the banshee lowers to the ground and Lo’ak dismounts, depositing you on your own two unsteady feet, that you realize where he’s brought you on your ‘adventure’. 

Your mouth opens in horror at the remains of your old home. The RDA outpost, a once tall and strong fortress that housed the lives of hundreds of humans, now practically nothing more than a heap of rubble. The walls once meant to provide safety to those within them have crumbled down, victims of their own explosives used against them by the enemy. Debris lines the paved ground, thick boulders and metal platings that were once walls, bullet shells glinting in the sunlight. There’s a few AMP suits scattered around the battlefield - you can’t see inside them from your vantage point, and you’re terrified of what you might see if you get too close. 

“This way, tawtute,” Lo’ak says, reaching for your hand, but you yank it away before he can grab it. 

“No,” You say, but the firmness in your voice is overshadowed by the shakiness. “No, I’m not going in there.”

“Yes, you are,”

Another headshake. “No,”

Quick as lightning, his hand shoots out and grabs the bottom of your mask, gripping on the valve at the bottom as he bends down so his face is level with yours.

“Demon,” He growls, fangs on display for just a moment. A warning. “You are pretty, but not stupid. You do as I say.”

Fear claws at your throat and your hands immediately latch onto his wrist, silently begging for him to not pull your mask off. He never does, and neither does Neteyam. Not as a punishment at least. When they use your mouth, there’s always a warning - a “hold your breath, yawne,” before the air is cut off from your lungs and your mouth is full of alien cock. But the fear never leaves, the possibility is always there at the forefront of your mind, and you cling to his wrist like the lifeline it is. 

Lo’ak’s face softens at your expression, grip loosening from your mask as his hand slides to cup the back of your neck. “You know I would never hurt you. You need to trust me,”

Hesitantly, you shake your head again. You’re pushing your luck, you know it. But you’ve learned Lo’ak is the more lenient of the brothers and will tolerate more ‘disobedience’ than Neteyam will. “I can’t,”

“Yes, you can. Nothing in there will hurt you. If anyone is left in there, they’re dead,”

And that’s the problem. The terror of facing the place where life as you knew it was ended in a heartbeat. If there’s still people in there, people you once knew, people you talked to, some people who were good, lying on the ground . . . lifeless . . .

In the end, it’s not a choice. Lo’ak sighs, pulling you back in his arms and cradling you to his chest like a toddler. You sniffle, eyes sliding shut, determined to not watch as he walks you towards the remains of the outpost. 

It’s hard to admit, but being carried by the brothers can be really soothing if you let it. They move swiftly, with grace and confidence in every step, careful not to jostle you despite the usually uneven terrain of the forest. It’s even smoother now as Lo’ak walks across the flat pavement of the base. If you close your eyes, it can almost feel like you’re floating.

There’s a loud chu-chunk sound followed by the rapid hiss of air and the loss of sunlight behind your closed lids. You open your eyes to see that Lo’ak has found a still intact entrance, the airlock working to adjust the oxygen levels to whatever lies beyond the interior door. He smiles when the pressure stabilizes, opening the door and stepping into the inside of the base. This time, he doesn’t warn you when he pulls off your mask, the sound of escaping air hitting your ears, but you don’t choke. Instead you can breathe, deep complete breaths without the need for a mask covering your face. 

Lo’ak wastes no time nuzzling his face against yours, sliding his cheek across every new inch of face and neck that he can comfortably reach, a deep content rumble vibrating through his chest. 

Scenting you. 

“I can smell you,” He whispers, lips pressing against your cheek. “Not just you right now, but where you were, where you’ve been, here, within these walls.”

“W-what?”

His feet carry him, guided by an old scent that you can hardly believe is here after so long. But it is, it has to be - you know the journey, have walked it hundreds of times during your time on Pandora, but you can’t imagine that Lo’ak would. You don’t think he ever went inside the outpost during the attack. He shouldn’t know that it's the second hallway instead of the first, shouldn’t know it’s two left turns and one right, and that your door is the 3rd on the left. But he does. 

He even knows which bed was yours and which was your roommate’s, only confirmed when he drops you down onto the thin RDA issued mattress against the far side wall. You land with a yelp, bouncing slightly from the force of the drop, but your noise of surprise is cut off by Lo’ak’s lips against yours.

“Stupid humans,” He growls against your lips. “Can't even breathe air without help. Wish I could teach you, so I wouldn’t have to go without your pretty lips on mine every day.”

You whine into the kiss, his big lips nearly twice the size of yours as they capture your mouth completely. It’s not the first time he’s kissed you, but it’s the first time you can breathe while it happens. 

He pulls away after a few more kisses, his breathing shallow as he reaches for something tied to his loincloth. It’s only then that you see the CO2 mask that’s been attached to his hip this whole time. He pulls the cross strap around his body, the mask hanging low on his chest and the CO2 canister hanging around his hip. He brings the mask to his face with one hand, taking in a few deep breaths, while the other hand works at the ties on his loincloth. 

The material of his covering falls to the ground and he drops the mask in favor of gripping your chin, thumb rubbing soothingly across your cheek. 

“Someone wants to play with you,” He purrs. “Be a good girl and invite him out, okay?”

Your breathing is shaky as you rise up on the bed, knees pressing into the mattress as you come face to face with the flat plane hiding Lo’ak’s cock. His hand moves to the back of your head, guiding you forward until your lips press against the smooth space between his thighs. 

Experience has you knowing what to do now, how to hold onto his thighs with both hands to keep yourself steady as you pepper gentle kisses along the hidden slit. Lo’ak tips his head back at the feel of your tongue sliding along the seam, little teasing kitten licks against the engorging slit that are always from him demanding them, demanding the slower teasing buildup, rather than you being coy. 

He pushes your face harder against him, hissing a ‘yeah, good girl. Like you fucking mean it,’ as he urges you to lick him deeper. When his slit opens, puffy and dripping, you can’t help the moan that falls from your lips as the sweet taste of his slick coats your tastebuds. It controls your body, whatever is in the slick. You feel it, making your body heat up, making you want things you definitely don’t - and you’re in the thick of it now, no mask or breathing breaks to cut whatever effects it usually has on you. It sets your body on fire now, making your thighs clench together as wetness pools in your core, and your brain fuzzes as the first touch of Lo’ak’s cock teases your lips as it starts to slip past the slit. 

You don’t know how long he keeps you there, sucking his cock. He’s dragging it out, taking advantage of the rare opportunity he has now of you without your mask. He drags your mouth along his cock, staring down at you with hooded eyes and letting you suckle gently on the lavender tip. Sometimes he’ll growl, pushing you down harder on his length just to hear you gag when the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. Other times he’ll pull you off completely, twisting your head so that your lips wrap around his girth from the side, before sliding you slowly back and forth along his length, tongue running over each and every bump and barb along the hot cerulean skin, the bright bioluminescent freckles decorating his cock practically shining under the layer of slick and saliva. 

When he’s finally used you to tease himself enough, he pushes you back flat on the bed, large hands wrapping around your calves and pulling you closer so your ass is just barely hanging off the side. You whimper when he pulls your legs apart, ripping the soaked loincloth from your body, hungry amber eyes staring at your swollen, wet cunt.

“Such a pretty girl,” He moans. The tip of his cock slides along your folds, nudging against your clit before sliding back down and positioning at your entrance. “You ready?”

Your brain is fuzzy and your clit is throbbing, hole clenching with the need to be filled. You close your eyes, looking away from his intense gaze - you don’t want it, you try to remind yourself, you don’t, he’s making you. But a swift smack on your thigh makes your eyes fly open again, Lo’ak’s hard gaze seeming to cut into your very soul.

“Say it, demon. Wanna hear you say it,”

A small cry escapes your lips, body unconsciously trying to bear down on his cock even as you shake your head. He shifts forward just the tiniest bit, lavender tip just barely pressing against your drooling hole enough for it to start to stretch before stopping again. 

“‘Need you, Lo'ak,” he recites, brow cocked, expecting you to repeat it. “Say it.”

“Fuck!” Is what comes out instead - a whiny, frustrated curse, that has your eyes tearing up again and Lo’ak’s ears pinning back against his skull.

His hand is quick to wrap around your throat, fingers digging into the blood vessels at the side of your neck as he hisses down at you. Your hands wrap around his wrist again, fingernails digging in and no doubt leaving red crescent shaped marks in the blue skin. He’s not squeezing your neck, not crushing your windpipe out of anger. You can breathe, the gulping breaths your gasping for are making it into your lungs, but the fingers pressing into the blood vessels make it feel like you can’t. Your head is clouding again, fuzzing like TV static, vision going blurry as his hand doesn’t relent. 

“Fine,” He grunts. “You don’t wanna talk? Don’t.”

You want to scream when he pushes forward, cock bullying its way past your entrance and inside you, stretching you and filling you up. It’s slow and torturous as he fills you impossibly full, the barbs along his length scraping ruthlessly against your slick walls. He sighs, ears flicking in pleasure as your heat envelopes him, stretching around his girth so perfectly he swears you were made for him. 

You can feel the bulge in your belly, the pressure disappearing and reappearing again as he begins to move inside of you. Long, purposeful strokes meant as a punishment, meant to make you feel every agonizingly blissful inch of him as he fucks into your soaked cunt, harder and harder with each thrust. Your mouth moves trying to form words, sound fleeting save for the barely there whispers of ‘fuck’, ‘oh my god’, and ‘please’. Lo’ak hears them anyway, leaning down to silence you with a filthy kiss. His hips pound against yours, unrelenting in their mission to completely fuck the soul of your body, and the sound of slapping skin against skin mix with Lo’ak’s groans and your barely audible breathy whines. 

Lo’ak’s fingers find their way to your swollen clit, rubbing persistently at the sensitive nub until you're crying into his mouth, thighs trying desperately to close together but can’t because of his body between them. The thick press of his knot against your entrance is what pushes your oversensitive body over the edge.

At the first suffocating clench of your pussy around his cock, Lo’ak releases your throat letting all the air it felt like you weren’t getting back into your lungs in a rush of oxygen. You gasp, crying against his lips as you arch up against him, creaming pussy fluttering around him as you cum on his cock. He growls when your teeth latch onto his bottom lip, blunt teeth digging in enough to draw blood, but the way he immediately grabs your hips, shoving his knot against you as hard as he would dare without actually penetrating you, tells you that it was a lust filled growl this time, not an angry one. 

He moans when he spills himself inside you, face pressed against your neck as he fills you up. You swear it feels almost scorching hot, heating you up from the inside and then out as it spills from around Lo’ak’s still buried cock and runs down the curve of your ass and onto the bed sheets. 

Someone clears their throat from behind Lo’ak, and you gasp at the sudden sound, frantically trying to look around Lo’ak’s hulking body to see who it is. 

Lo’ak sighs, undisturbed by sudden intrusion, even going as far as rolling his eyes before slowly pulling out of your used cunt - more of his cum spilling out onto the bed now that he’s not still inside you to keep it in. “Wasn’t expecting you today, bro,”

Your eyes widen when he moves out of the way, revealing a smug looking Neteyam in the doorway, still very much dressed up in his warrior’s gear. 

“I had to make time to see our pretty little demon,” Neteyam says, bright amber eyes sweeping over your exhausted form. He crosses the room with three long strides, one knee pressing into the bed as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your cheek. “That was a nice show. I know you’re tired, paskalin,”

His eyes meet yours, amber irises practically swallowed up by the blacks of his pupils. A hand presses against your belly, sneaking down towards your oversensitive pussy, his pointer finger reaching out to tap against your clit as you whine. 

“But it’s really not fair that you smell more like Lo’ak than me now, is it?”

**Special thanks to @neteyamsyawntu for the prompt!

Taglist: @eywaite @loaksulluyswife @erenjaegerwifee @f-cklife @beautiful-brown-skin-05 @anastasia1777-blog @localjasmine @tsewtx @skywonder @neteyamswillow @luvv4j4ybe11 @pandoraslxna @avatarwifey

[buggbuzz]

taking advantage of my few days off to start really filling in my basic genetics notes since i'm taking a genetics class in the fall

[merbear25]

Growing up with them (Kid, Law, Buggy, Caesar)

There are so many avenues for this fun ‘what if’ scenario. It’s not possible to have befriended all of them, so why not add a few extra possibilities? They were your neighbor, so there were only a few ways your relationship could go.

CW: SFW, gn!reader, headcanons/scenarios, some fluff, ‘neighbor’s kid’ vibes, slightly humorous tone, AU territory so some speculation has been applied, spoilers for Dressrosa(?)

Kid: feral child, feral child! No one can tell me that he wasn’t the wildest child when he was growing up.

He was sucked into his hobbies involving building and metal. He loved roughhousing, backyard wrestling, cookouts, and swimming pools. Summer was his favorite season growing up because it gave him every excuse to do whatever he wanted, and no one had the right to tell him he shouldn’t.

Water soakers, playing ball in the house and inevitably breaking something, sharing scary stories around the campfire, and probably sent to summer camp so his parents could have a break: these are the vibes I get when I think of his childhood.

Being friends: you had to meet his freak because he wasn’t going to slow down.

He wanted to explore, so being the adventurous type would bode nicely for your friendship.

You’d spend some days down by the lake catching frogs only to set them free shortly after. He was very much interested in building all sorts of things, so you’d help him gather materials, which often left you venturing out to strange places.

He threw the classic “What are you? Chicken?” at you when you weren’t as gung-ho as he was about anything.

As reckless as he could be, he’d do well with a friend who could be the voice of reason, helping guide him when he was too in the zone to see the reality of the situation.

He’d argue with you, get mad even. This boy’s stubbornness wasn’t going to allow you to talk him out of something if he had his heart set on it. He was either going to listen to you or he was going to have to learn the hard way.

Hope you didn’t tell him “I told you” for your own sake.

This hot-headed boy could be a handful, making it hard to avoid arguments at times. Being of the same temperament would make blow-ups a recurring issue. 

That being said, you were still children and most likely got heated over things like “which character would win in a fight” or about who rightfully won your card game.

Even if he was always on the move and doing something, I could see him enjoying something calmer like catching fireflies. You could take the jars you captured them in to your secret hideout where you’d camp out for the night.

He played rough though, so if you ever agreed to wrestling, there was a slim chance of you making it out without some sort of injury.

Uninterested in you: you were a bore to him. There was no sugar coating it.

Even from the few interactions you had, those were enough for both of you to realize that you didn’t want to bother.

Having similar hobbies helps a lot when building friendships, especially when it comes to children. However, I can’t say that this would be the main reason for him not being friends with someone. I could see it being boiled down to more of a personality issue.

You couldn’t really find common ground, not that he was really looking for any.

He never got why you liked some of the things you did, and you felt the same about him.

You viewed the other as weird and tried your best to ignore each other. That was easier said than done with someone like him, though.

An enemy/competition: he’s competitive, he’s aggressive, and the fact that you were just as good if not better than him made his blood boil.

You pushed his buttons and even when he screamed at you, you kept pushing. But, he was going to show you that he was no one to mess with.

Using the knowledge he’d gained from tinkering with various objects, he set up a few pranks. Some were a tad cruel because he wanted to humiliate you. 

Even if you saw yourselves as enemies, he had mixed feelings when one of his pranks made you cry. Depending on a lot of factors, he may send you anonymous sweets (cookies, chocolate, or candies) to make you feel a smidge better.

When you were back on your feet, you both kept your competition under more control, though there were times you were both tempted to cross that line again.

Law: a tough cookie to crack and even more so after escaping from his home country. I tried to take into account his personality before and after that incident.

He was very determined academically, part of which was to make his parents proud but the other was from his own genuine interest. Dedicating time to studying, enjoying sitting outside while reading, and could get irritated easily when his routine was disrupted: he appreciated a sense of calmness and balance but still had moments when he’d lose his temper.

There weren’t many who went out of their way to befriend him because of his unique hobbies, so that made him more of a loner. That wasn’t anything to be sad about in his opinion. He enjoyed his alone time and the few people he hung around were cherished.

Being friends: you mostly likely approached him, to which he was standoffish for quite a while.

With all his staring at you, observing your habits and quirks, you couldn’t help but feel like you were being looked at under a microscope.

It was his way of building up the confidence to hold a decent conversation with you. Once getting a good enough read on you, he’d be much more open to chatting. You’d feel a little less like a stranger even before you began talking to each other.

Being attentive would be appreciated, but he wouldn’t really care too much if his friend was clumsy or careless from time to time. As long as you were kind-hearted, he could overlook those small flaws rather easily.

Although being a nerd wouldn’t be a necessity by any means, it would be fun for him to geek out with someone over Germa 66.

Let’s say you were a big fan of them like he was.

His eyes lit up when you first mentioned it and he ran to show you his favorite merchandise. You’d play with the action figures together, probably draw them while sitting quietly, and then ooh and aah over each other’s art saying what you liked most about their drawings.

Now, let’s say you weren’t a fan of them.

He wouldn’t bring them up unless you asked about it. Maybe you made a comment on one of his figurines, for example. Despite wanting to go on and on about them, he picked up on your body language and sensed it wasn’t your thing. That was fine with him, though. It wasn’t his only hobby, after all.

Even though he was far from the type to take risks and would most likely protest against any dangerous activities (i.e. baking and/or cooking without parental supervision), he really needed someone to push him out of his comfort zone. The little nudges from someone he came to trust were more helpful than he ever realized.

Neither friend nor foe: he was cautious of you for a little while, trying to gauge what your deal was before ultimately deciding he didn’t really want to engage with you.

Perhaps you were too brash for him. He wasn’t a scaredy cat, but he was extremely cautious, meaning being friends with someone who was too reckless would stress him out and probably make him feel like a babysitter.

You may be too quiet. He could be pretty quiet himself, but trying to befriend someone who was even more soft spoken could present some challenges.

Maybe you were far too unpredictable. He enjoyed order and normalcy, which would mean being around someone who spoke and/or acted before thinking would have him practically breaking out in hives.

At best, he avoided you and let you do whatever it was you were doing.

At worst, he shot glares at you whenever you crossed the line.

All in all, he tried not to involve himself in your life too much.

An enemy: there were so few people who lit a fire under him to be viewed as competition, so you most likely took the enemy title.

The easiest way to have made an enemy out of him would be upsetting his little sister. He was a protective big brother. They fought like any other siblings, sure, but he never tolerated others treating her like that.

He’d be on you like a hawk at that point. So much as breathe in the wrong direction and he’d be there to scare you straight.

Intimidation would be his strongest weapon—vaguely threatening you with his knowledge of human anatomy and the least frequented places where you lived.

If you just came after him and disregarded his sister, it’d take a bit longer for him to deem you as a full blown enemy. He’d simply hate you for the longest time until you just pushed a sore spot that sent him over the edge—giving you nightmares at the very least.

Buggy: How patient are you? Because he’d be throwing you curveballs no matter the relationship you two had.

He was known as the loud kid and class clown. He wanted so much attention which made it hard for others to ignore him. There were a lot of mixed feelings about him, especially in the neighborhood.

Was the kid who sent out invites to his birthday to every single kid in class, in the neighborhood, and at the corner store just to have a few show up to his party. He kept his head high, even if it was getting to him.

Being friends: it wasn’t hard getting him to talk to you. Hell, it wasn’t even that difficult to get him to hang out, but he was very wishy-washy with his interactions.

He never failed to put himself out there. You couldn’t help but think that was endearing.

I can’t necessarily see him having been partial to his friend being introverted, ambivert, or extroverted. A friend was a friend, and so long as they treated him well, that type of stuff wasn’t of any importance.

However, it would be a must for you to have a sense of humor. There was no way around that. He wanted to laugh and make you laugh, so someone who was the more serious type perhaps would have made things much too difficult.

Though he put up a good front, making people think he was some tough guy, he was super soft and squishy on the inside—really just needing someone to be vulnerable around. That was something he could find in you. Though it took what felt like ages to get to that point, it was all worth it.

Sleepovers were a massive thing for him. Your parents liked him, albeit thinking he was just a tad odd, but were happy that you had made a friend nonetheless.

There were tons of games you’d play together which tended to involve forts: pillow, blanket, and cardboard mostly. When you played pirates, he insisted on being the captain. Despite his confidence in leading you and your crew of stuffed animals, you ended up having to take control on most missions.

Even when you thought you were having a good time hanging out with him, he had a tendency to leave suddenly, most of the time making up an obvious lie. When you tried talking to him about it, he was often dismissive and just wanted to forget about it.

You weren’t sure how to take that. It kinda hurt. You quickly understood not to take those moments to heart and just boiled it down to Buggy just being Buggy. Even if that were the case, you hoped he would eventually lower those walls—one day.

Weird in between: You caught him peeking over your fence and popping back down. He wanted more friends, but he wasn’t confident.

He couldn’t gauge you, couldn’t figure out who you were exactly and the way you carried yourself made him want to keep his distance.

As hard it was for others to ignore him, it was almost just as difficult for him to do the same to them. He was always aware of everyone, or at the very least, he checked them out before deciding if they were worth the trouble.

Even if you were indifferent towards him, he’d try his darndest to get on your good side. If he didn’t care for you all that much, he’d wait to throw it in your face before you ever had the chance to humiliate him.

You didn’t know what his deal was, and to be fair he didn’t know what his was either which led to him being so hot and cold with you.

He tried just ignoring you, but when he heard you laughing and having a generally good time with the other kids, he couldn’t help himself. He was curious and eavesdropped on your conversations, wondering why he wasn’t a part of the fun.

Him needing to best you: maybe you didn’t hate each other. Perhaps at the most you strongly disliked the other. Either way he wanted to prove how much better he was.

Buggy was all over the place. He’d try insulting you, challenging you, but then if you took him up on it, he’d increase the gap between you.

He was never short of excuses as to why he couldn’t keep to his own challenges against you. When you eventually went home after realizing he wasn’t showing up yet again, he twisted it into making it seem like you chickened out.

It was hard for you to see him as an enemy because of how void of seriousness he was. He had days when he thought you were mortal enemies, followed by days he thought you were cool with him, but then right back to being wary of you.

Caesar: Hope that you are just as unhinged as he is, otherwise you were in for a rough childhood. His voice would carry through the streets, alerting the entire neighborhood that he was up to something—none of it good. 

Whenever you looked out your window or passed by his house, there would be smoke, sudden loud noises (mostly bangs and explosions), or possibly a strange faint odor that made you think twice before asking about.

Generally speaking, I imagine him having been far more reckless with experiments and even when regarding the manipulative side to his personality. Not necessarily feral but just more brash.

Being friends: you’d have to keep up with him otherwise he’d just think you were dragging him down.

Being adventurous would go a long way with him. He wouldn’t have much patience for someone being overly cautious to the point they were practically a scaredy cat. 

That being said, he’d need a friend who was the voice of reason during his more reckless moments. Sure, you got an eye roll and huff for “not being fun” but you gave a sense of balance.

You’d earn bonus points if you were just as into the macabre as he was—pushing the limits could get rather…messy, after all. You could be his assistant all you liked but being a partner in crime would be the cherry on top.

He’d never admit it, but he got scared easily. However, this was reserved for when he felt in danger.

If you were brave, he would hide behind you, putting his faith in you that you’d chase off whatever he was afraid of. If you weren’t brave, self-preservation would more than likely take over, and he’d shamelessly leave you behind—desperate to distance himself from the posing threat.

He’s competitive. He’s also a narcissist. Because of these qualities, I’d argue that being interested in science could go either in or against your favor. 

In your favor: you didn’t try to upstage him, especially if you turned out to be wrong because you’d just end up getting on his nerves in that case. Being into another field of science might make it a bit easier because he could feel like he out-shined you. Plus, it could be more fun pairing your expertise with his to create ungodly creations. If you were right about and/or better at something, you didn’t rub it in—you were humble even if he wasn’t. Otherwise his ego would take a few hits, making him pout and want to get back at you.

Against your favor: You were more clever in certain ways on top of being competitive. I think he’d enjoy some competition with a friend but only to an extent because eventually it’d turn into a rivalry. 

Everyone in the neighborhood would loathe you and forbid their children from interacting with you for a multitude of reasons: potential harm, corrupting their ‘little angels’, and you two being bad eggs to name a few.

Your parents would probably try forbidding you from hanging out with him, believing he was nothing but a bad influence on you. Although they may have had a point, that didn’t stop you.

And you are…?: you were just kinda there in a sense—not interesting enough for him to have engaged with or irritating enough to have humiliated.

Maybe there were times you tried talking to him but due to your approach, he deemed you as unworthy of his presence. 

Maybe he just didn’t like you for no reason in particular: being viewed as unspecial, one that blended too much into the crowd, and overall lackluster—not even being worthy of recognition as, well, anyone.

You kept your distance once you noticed others, whom he saw as mere pawns, had horrific “accidents”.

An enemy/competition: you rubbed him in all the wrong ways.

Whether you’d intended it or not, you wormed your way into his mind and refused to let go of the hold you had.

He had the same effect on you, making rivals of each other quickly and eventually full blown enemies.

The easiest way for you to have done this was either besting him at chemistry or generally being far too clever for your own good, making him feel shown up in one way or another.

He didn’t just want to be the best, he needed to be. Meeting someone who could beat him at his own game was infuriating and fueled his desire to tear you down. There were times when he succeeded, but there were also plenty when you were triumphant.

No matter how much you may have disliked or even hated each other, you gave the other the incentive to keep pushing and bettering yourselves like no one else had.

Thanks to your childhood rivalry and constant pushing, you both had unknowingly set the other up for success in their careers. I guess you should thank each other…not that you ever would, though.

[httpwintersoldier]

『 lady marmelade. || buggy x reader 』

[PART 2 OF 4 - ONE PIECE'S KINKTOBER] - BUGGY VER.

[SHANKS VER.] [MIHAWK VER.] [SANJI VER.]

pairing: buggy x f!reader words: lenghtyyyyy summary: your occupation lead you to meet your new boss... who'd perhaps become more than that. angst; smut; fluff.

Doing Burlesque was not what you had initially seen yourself doing professionally, but in a weird turn of events, the doors had opened and you walked right through them. Or rather... the curtains.

You initially intended to study the sea and its mysteries, but it wasn't exactly a job that paid well from the get-go, so you began working at a bar. Just to get yourself started, you said.

Then a man noticed you... He was tall and well built, a little meat on his bones but definitely intimidating. Hair as white as snow and a full beard with a nicely kept moustache. The man couldn't help but compliment you: your beautiful smile, your beautiful body, your bright personality... You were perfect, he said.

He approached you, initially asking you how much you made. You found it insulting! That was, until he said he'd triple it if you joined his show. The man was sure you'd be a hit, and he was right.

At first you thought he was inviting you to be a stripper, but as you learned the art of burlesque, you realized it was nothing of the sort - and you loved it. The attention, the compliments, the lights and cheers, the beautifully decorated attires, the attention to detail... But most of all, you adored the freedom it gave you to study the sea.

The pay was amazing, and it allowed you to have enough time and money to invest in your hobby - the sea.

"We got a... uh... how to describe the situation..." the stage coordinator said as he tapped his chin, looking for the correct words "We got a different crowd."

You were applying the finishing touches to your attire, but stopped, furrowed your eyebrows and looked at the man as you heard his choice of words, as well as the ruckus behind the curtain.

You stood up and walked to the edge of the curtain, tugging on it slightly, so only one of your eyes peeked out to look at the audience. You gasped in horror and stepped furiously towards the stage manager.

"Since when do we allow pirates on our cabaret!?" You whisper-yelled at the man.

The heels made you taller than him, and the way you were staring him down sent a shiver down his spine. The man was gripping his board with the show instructions as he struggled to give you a response.

"I guess we do when- when they pay well we do..."

You weren't prissy, much less were you an elitist, but pirates... they disgusted you. When you began working at the cabaret the owner allowed pirates in. Those nights were treacherous, to say the very least. The harassment, bottle throwing and disrespect for the art rose through the roof on those nights, so pirates and their crews were banned effectively from watching the shows. Except the ones whose pockets were deep, apparently.

You slumped back on your chair and held the bridge of your nose between your thumb and index finger as you sighed.

"Tell me I'm the first one, please, tell me I get to get this over with and fuck off home."

The stage manager scoffed.

"I don't know what would overcome the Boss to somehow put you first... You're the last one." The man informed.

He had the habit of doing this. You were his golden goose, the cherry at the top, as he liked to say, so you were always last, because everyone stayed to watch you.

That was the only time where being the favourite sucked.

"Babygirl, you're first, you're on in 40 seconds." The man said, and your colleague applied some powder hurriedly and walked to the big red curtains.

You watched as she stepped out to her signature intro song with a fake smile that hid how fucking terrified she was of the pirates.

Usually sets came and went as quickly as a snap of the fingers, but this one time, the one time you were curious to hear about, seemed to drag on for ever and ever.

"Thank y'all for tonight, you were lovely!"

As soon as you heard those words and saw the curtains move, you stood up.

"Evelyn, 60 seconds 'till you're on!" the stage manager called to your next colleague as you walked towards Babygirl, held her hands and looked her in the eye.

"So? How were they!?" You asked, barely even letting her catch her breath.

"You know what? Not that bad..." She said, sounding surprised by her own statement "I get the feeling they were just kicked out of every bar in town and came here to drink. They were excited and there was quite a lot of ruckus and cheering but I think the main focus were the drinks... There was this clown dude in the back that seemed very desinterested though." Your colleague explained, as you both walked to her vanity and she began taking off all of the paraphernelia that decorated her.

You furrowed your brows. That was surprising... But it made sense, somehow. They might've been behaving just for the sake of not being thrown out again and running out of alcohol for the night.

Your colleague looked at you up and down.

"You're going with Cherry Pie today?" She asked.

You kept a couple personas in your pocket, to keep it interesting. You liked to call it "The Burlesque Sisters", except each one of them was played by you. It kept people interested and coming back for more, wanting to get a peek at each sister.

You looked down at your attire: it was a red corset with wine-coloured felt details and a heart-shaped neckline. You wore a miniskirt that was not at all intricate, as it came off in the very beginning of the set, long black gloves with red feathery apliques on the hem, black stockings, and a pair of beautiful red platmform heels with guilded details. Your makeup matched the get up perfectly: a bold red lip with a dark red liner, gold sparkles decorating your face, as well as gold eyeshadow on your waterline, and a killer cat-like black winged liner. You were always keen on having your hair up, as you felt it was the perfect hairdo to keep eyes focused on your body and on your movements.

Cherry Pie was a fan favourite, no doubt. So you were a little reluctanct on bringing her out, afraid that the pirates would keep coming back for her (cocky of you, you were aware), but it was too late to change.

It wasn't long before you heard Evelyn's typical goodbye quote. She came in strutting in the room, hapilly removing several bills from various parts of her attire.

"Good tippers!" She said with a smile.

"Cherry Pie! You're on in two minutes!" The stage director called.

Whoever went next to Evelyn got a little more time before going in, as the staff needed to clean up her glitter sprayed across the floor.

"So? How was it?" You asked, raising your brows.

"Oh, it was great! They weren't exactly respectful but they tipped really well and they were very engaged! Except for this clown dude at the back, but I didn't bother much with him." Evelyn said with a shrug as she took off her earrings.

You stood up with a pensive face and straighened your outfit, suddenly becoming curious about this clown guy that seemed to be uninterested by women in very little clothing dancing in front of him. You walked to the curtains, waiting for the stage manager to give you your cue.

When you heard the first beats of your intro song you strutted in, one foot in front of the other, hands on your waist and a big, flirty smile. You winked at the crowd as the big stage lights lit you up.

You lifted your arms up as if to say "I'm here!" and popped out your hip.

"Welcome, to the Cherry Pie show!" You said, earning a bunch of cheers, and then hit the Beety Boop pose, placing your hands on your knees and popping out your ass as you winked.

The clown your colleagues had mentioned wasn't hard to spot: this wasn't a simple crowd, for sure, but he was definitely the one that stood out the most. In a good way... you'd argue.

However, as you introduced yourself, you could see him look up: his head lifted from the fist that it previously rested on and his eyes sparkled. You couldn't relate to the desinterest the others had reported, and you wondered if you had particularly piqued his interest - or if he was just tired of the position he was in and decided to switch (although the glint in his eye said your initial theory was correct).

You carried on with the performance, keeping a special eye out for the pirate clown.

You slowly undid your corset, opening it to reveal a tighter, smaller corset, flashing the crowd with an expression that said "oopsie!". There were some groans and there were some laughs at the trick. You discarded the corset you had taken off and went around the room collecting bills, as you danced suggestively and lip synced to your song.

As you walked closer to the clown you bit your glove and slid it off, revealing your long, red press on nails. You repeated the process on the other glove and discarded them, earning a few whistles. You could feel the clown's gaze on you, almost as if it burned.

And so, you decided to tease him: you dragged your nail along his jaw. The clown somewhat leaned into your touch, and although the music was loud, you could swear you heard him groan.

You continued you act and, in no time, your songs came to an end and it was time to say goodbye to your surprisingly pleasant guests.

"Y'all have been a lovely crowd! I've been Cherry Pie, Cherry Kisses!" You yelled, touching your ass with one heel as you blew them a kiss.

There was standing up, whistling, cheers, and a couple noises from displeased people, sad that the show was over. One thing was for sure, the clown guy had a hunger for you - and he wouldn't let you go so easily.

As you disappeared behind the curtains, the man stood up, making his way to the back.

"Sir you can't come in-" The bouncer began, but instantly shut up when Buggy flashed him a wad of Berry. Any ammount of money was worth being sacrified if it meant it was used to see you.

Evelyn and Babygirl had gone home already, so when you heard footsteps you assumed it was your bodyguard ready to escort you home.

"Hey Dante I'm not ready yet, give me 5 just to take off the makeup and put on some clothes!" You said, not looking behind you as you worked on getting the glitter off.

"I think you look marvellous just like that."

When you didn't recognize the voice, you were startled and stood up, looking at the man that had spoken, to find the clown guy leaning against the door frame.

You couldn't not remember who he was...

"What are you- How did you get here?" You asked, pointing at him and squinting your eyes.

"Honey, I've got plenty Berry, and I don't mind spending it on you." He said, arms stretched out as he stepped towards you.

You raised your brow and crossed your arms in front of your chest as you analyzed him from head to toe.

"This isn't a strip club, you can't pay for a room with me or whatever. And it's Cherry, not Honey." You said, attitude dripping from your voice.

"Yes, unfortunately it isn't a strip club, but I'm not here for that. I want to offer you a spot. On my crew, on my show." The man offered with that familiar glint in his eye.

"Why, pray tell, would I want to go be a pirate? The pay here is amazing, I love my job and I am comfortable." You asked.

The clown admired how unafraid you were of him. People usually kept their distance, ran away, stuttered near him... But there you were, facing him and challenging him. He absolutely had to have you.

The Captain was desperately looking for reasons to give you, until his eyes landed on a book you had on your vanity. You liked to entertain yourself and read on breaks from shows and happened to leave them on your vanity.

"A book about marine life?" The man asked, pointing at the book "Honey, why read about it, when you can see it. Join me and you'll see all of the life you read about in those pages, up close. I'll equal what they pay you here- fuck it, I'll double it."

Now that was tempting... But you couldn't help but wonder why...

"Why do you want me so much?"

Now that was a damn good question.

"I've never seen my men this focused on something. It's good for morale and it gives them something to do other than a big mess on my ship. Plus, we kinda need a gymnast on the show and you fit the bill."

Bullshit. He just bullshit his way out of the truth - in reality he just wanted to have you close, he wanted to be able to look at you up close whenever.

"Your men? Your ship? What are you, a Captain?" You asked genuinely.

The male scoffed and took another step towards you.

"You don't know who I am, do you?"

You shrugged as an answer, your face showing a definite sign of absolutely not giving a shit about the answer.

"My name is Captain Buggy, or Buggy the Clown." Buggy, as he introduced himself, detached a hand and had it fly over to you.

"Woah! You're a Devil Fruit user!" You said, amused to finally meet one, and shook the flying hand.

Although detached, your touch on him still managed to send shivers down his spine.

"So, Miss 'Cherry Pie', have we got a deal?"

You pretended to think for a bit. The answer was obviously yes (more pay and you got to be close to the sea!?), but you didn't want to seem too eager.

"I believe we do Captain Buggy."

The way you said his name made him wonder how many other ways he could make you say it... It sent another shiver down his spine, and the captain asked himself if it had been a good idea to invite you on board - Buggy didn't know how long he'd be able to keep his hands off of you.

When the owner of the Cabaret heard of your departure he nearly fainted. The man tried to negotiate but he couldn't possibly match what Buggy had offered you, so the boss reluctantly let you go and you embarked on a new journey.

The beginning was a little rocky, some of the crew members got a little touchy and Buggy had to threaten them multiple times, but after you started standing your ground and threteaning them yourself, you gained their respect.

Normally you wouldn't be so brave as to stand up to several big men experienced in fighting, but you knew the Captain had your back, and that gave you a lot of confidence.

The first time there was a show, Buggy invited you to sit back and watch, so you could learn how it all worked before being part of it, and you had to admit, seeing the man take control of everything... it was kind of hot. Those words danced in your tongue when he asked you what you thought about the show afterwards, but you decided to keep it to yourself.

"This good enough Captain?" You asked innocently, fixing your corset so your boobs stood out.

Buggy thanked his heavy makeup for concealing his blush, and the coat for hiding his growing boner as he inspected your outfit from head to toe. He wanted to say no. He wanted to cover you up with a long, large coat and send you out with it so only he could see you like that, but alas, that wasn't possible...

"Uh yeah, Y/N, you look fantastic." The Captain said, not able to look away from your chest.

You giggled and thanked him, before getting ready to step out. The tent was particularly full that day, as people gathered, curious about the new act that had been announced.

As the cheers, claps and whistles reached Buggy's ears backstage, he felt a sense of jealousy spread in his body. Oh it was a bad idea to hire you, for sure...

When the show came to an end and the guests had left, Buggy sat on his throne and counted the Berry they had made.

Suddenly, he heard steps.

"Who the fuck is here and why are you here?" The Captain asked, in a grumpy tone - he very much disliked being interrupted.

"Sorry Captain!"

As soon as he heard your voice it was like a rainbow washed over him. He hated that. He hated how you had so much control over his body, over the way he felt.

"That's okay, thought it was one of the other degenerates. What can I do for ya, sweetheart?" Buggy asked in a completely different tone from the one he had previously spoken in, pleased that you had come talk to him still in your show attire.

"Well I wanted to ask... did I do good?" You asked, biting your lip and holding your hands behind your back nervously.

Oh boy did Buggy want to grab you by the neck and push you against a wall... Seeing you in front of him, nervous and asking for his approval, all while biting your lip... You had no idea how much self control he had not to fuck you dumb.

"Sorry sugar, I couldn't watch the show tonight..." The Captain explained, a sad tone in his voice as he said it.

"Oh..." You replied, a little disappointed "Well, maybe I could give you a private show." You said with a flirty wink.

Buggy smirked and looked at you, supporting his head with his fist.

"Don't make promises you can't handle keeping, princess." Buggy said, boldly.

You chuckled and turned around.

"I can handle everything, Captain."

You could feel Buggy's eyes on you as you walked away, and chuckled lowly when you heard him curse under his breath.

The man turned, huffed and puffed in bed that night, grabbing his crotch at the thought of you, at the way you called him Captain, and at the pretty little teasing quote you'd thrown at him - but he knew that no release would be satisfying - unless you were the one giving it to him. That couldn't be. He had to find a solution.

Little did the man know, the solution would find him soon enough.

Due to his Y/N-induced sleepless night, the following day the man retreated to his living quarters before dinner, in order to get some rest.

You, who didn't know what was going on, grew concerned about the Captain. He was always grumpy, sure, but he was also constantly laughing and full of life, whereas that day he was simply... not.

You knew no one was even supposed to go near his room, let alone visit it when the Captain specified he didn't want to be disturbed. But you were one curious cat - and a worried one too.

As you stood outside of his door, you bit your lower lip, wondering if you should knock or not, but before you could decide for or against it, the Captain had already sensed a presence outside.

"Who has a death wish?" Buggy asked, referring to the person that stood outside of his room.

"T-that would be me, Captain..." You replied, nervously, confident he'd recognize your voice.

Buggy's mind was torn - he looked (and felt) like shit on one hand, but on the other, having you with him in his room all by yourselves... The bottom head thought faster, and he replied with a low "come in".

You opened the creaky door slightly and peeked inside, before walking in.

Buggy laid on the bed, his hair free of the bandana and tied in a low ponytail. He had one arm falling from the bed, and the other covering his eyes, and one leg resting on the bed as the other had his knee bent.

You blushed slightly as you realized he was just wearing his underwear and a large striped shirt.

"Woah..." You said, at the sight of his long hair.

Buggy uncovered his eyes to look at you and followed your gaze. He just chuckled, making you snap back to reality.

"Uh, Sir- Captain," You corrected "are you okay?..."

The light in the room was scarce, the only thing lighting up the space being the moonlight coming in through the hatch. Still, you could see his cocky grin.

"You worried about me, princess?"

You dared walk closer to him, in small, shy steps.

"Well, yes... You didn't seem yourself today..."

Buggy clenched his fists and held himself back with all the strenght possible and imaginary when you put one knee on his bed, making it dip slightly on your end, and placed a hand on his forehead and face.

"Captain, you feel hot!" You said, worriedly.

He was hot alright, but it wasn't a fever that left him like that.

"You know princess, you're right, I haven't been 100% lately, I have been having a little problem..." Buggy admitted, as he licked his lips.

"A p-problem? What problem?" You asked, an uneasy feeling rising within you.

Upon seeing your panicked expression he chuckled.

"A problem with you, dear."

The panic and fear increased even more, and it was visible on your face.

"Don't worry princess, you've done nothing wrong. In fact, quite the opposite... You've been doing all the right things."

You innocently cocked your head to the side.

"I'm- I'm sorry Captain, I'm not sure I'm following..."

The man grinned and groaned when the name left your lips. Such an innocent mouth, that he had imagined doing such sinful things to...

"You see, sweetheart," Buggy began, his hand lightly tracing up the thigh closest to him "you've been driving me crazy. The way you dress, the way you talk, fuck- the way you say my name."

His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he imagined you moaning his name. You grew hotter and hotter at each of his words, and all you could focus on was how his hand went higher and higher on your thigh. And without noticing, in your head, you began begging for his hand to just fucking hurry it up and grab your ass.

"W-well Captain, I guess it's only right that I fix the problem, I caused it after all, hm?" You suggested bringing your other leg up to the bed and across him, so you were straddling his lap.

"Oh princess, I don't know if you wanna get into it..." His hands found the place you wanted him to find.

The man grabbed your ass with such force that you couldn't help but moan.

"I'm pretty sure that I do..." You said in a husky voice, as you felt his cock harden under you.

Before he could speak, you opened your mouth once more.

"You know, Captain," now that you knew he enjoyed it, you were going to exploit the hell out of the name "I like the way you take control of the show..." you paused once more and leaned in to whisper in his ear "How about you take control of me like that?"

It was as if your voice brought him the full 10 hours of sleep he needed. It was like energy washed over him and he felt... alive. More than ever.

The clown was quick to switch positions, straddling your waist and pinning your hands above your head, slowly riding up the top you wore. Buggy licked his lips as he stared at your exposed stomach.

"You're playing with fire, princess. Little girls that play with fire get hurt..." Buggy teased with a glint in his eye.

"Then hurt me."

His lips glued to yours instantly, in a violent, hungry kiss. Buggy didn't know it was possible for someone to drive him even crazier, but you did it. You pushed him to the very edge and he had never craved something so much in his life.

Buggy's hands were all over your body - grabbing your thighs, slapping your ass, caressing your waist... He wanted to take in every piece of you. As he touched you, the Captain slowly took off pieces of your clothes, and when you realized, you were naked under him.

You blushed slightly, tugging at the hem of his shirt so he'd understand.

"We're not speaking now, dollface?" The man asked as he removed his one piece of clothing "Cat got your tongue? Hm?"

You ran your hands down his torso and bit your lip - he was a lot more toned than he let on.

"Just... admiring the view." You said before catching his lips in a slow, passionate kiss.

Buggy detached one of his hands, and you shrieked into the kiss as his cold fingers made their way inside your panties. He teased your entrance, until you tugged on his hair as if to say "hurry up, fucker".

"Don't be-" He paused, shoving two fingers into you slowly "-impatient."

You sighed deeply and moved your hips against his fingers. Buggy looked down at you move in amusement.

"You know pretty girl, we have another problem at hand..." The Captain said, tracing your face with his fingers until he reached your neck.

"W-what is it?" You asked, through half lidded eyes and in between moans.

Buggy gripped your throat, making you gasp and arch your back. He leaned closer to your ear so he could whisper.

"I don't know if I wanna fuck you like this to see your pretty little face when you cum on my cock, or shove your face in the pillow and fuck you from behind."

"A-as long as you make me cum Captain..." You said with a smirk.

You whined as he removed his fingers and licked them clean.

"Are you doubting my capabilities, princess?"

You had no time to reply, as he reattached his hand and used it to flip you around and pull your ass up in the air. You gripped the sheets, your cheek against his pillow taking in the smell of your Captain, as you watched him take his placed bbehind you.

Buggy took his sweet time palming your ass and admiring it.

When he took out his cock, you couldn't see it from the angle, but you knew it was big and girthy, because when his hard lenght smacked against your ass, you knew you were in for it.

"Fuck..." You breathed out.

Buggy chuckled.

"It's not even in yet princess, save the cursing for later..." He teased, running the tip of his cock up and down your folds until he himself couldn't hold it any longer.

The Captain wanted to slam into you and fucked the words out of your mouth, but it was your first time with him and he didn't want to risk being too rough or hurting you.

So, with furrowed eyebrows and agape mouth, he pushed into you slowly, until he bottomed. It took all of his strenght to pull out and shove his cock back in in a slow pace.

Once he found you were comfortable with the pace, he began speeding up and, when your moans became loud and you called for his name, Buggy lost all control.

The man gripped your hips like a madman and fucked you like his life depended on it.

"Oh fuck- you're such a good girl Y/N- you take me so well..." He praised as he gripped your ass and smacked it a couple times, earning a yelp from you.

"Y-you feel so good Captain!" You moaned, gripping the sheets beside your head.

One of Buggy's hand detached and found your clit, rubbing it at a consistent, fast rhythm. The man was good. You wanted to savour the moment as long as possible but for the first time you found it hard to not cum.

Maybe it was his skill, maybe it was his demeanor, and maybe it was his appearance, but the truth was that you couldn't get enough of him fucking you.

"Buggy I think- I think I'm gonna cum-" You whined, as a familiar feeeling began washing over you.

"A-Already princess?"

Buggy kept up the confident persona, but deep down he was thanking every diety in existance because he didn't know how long he could last, with you moaning for him and tightening around his cock like he had imagined so many times.

"Please... may I cum?"

"Do it!" Was all he could say.

Your legs faltered and the Captain had to hold you up as he fucked his cum into you, riding both of your orgasms out.

Small groans and whimpers filled the room as the both of you came down from your highs. Buggy hissed as he removed his soft cock from you.

The man helped you lay down on the bed and wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer to him as he closed his eyes.

"Hey Buggy?" You called, as you played with his hair and admired how long his lashes were.

"Hm?..." He sleepily asked.

"When you hired me, was this your intention?" You asked, biting your lip.

The man didn't open his eyes, he just chuckled.

"I can't say it was completely innocent... I wanted you close to me." Buggy explained with a smirk.

He then grabbed your ass and pulled you even closer, causing you to shriek and giggle.

"I guess you got it, Captain..."