Ugh Why Must I Be Always So Repulsed By My Own Vulnerability But I Find It Very Moving And Impressive

ugh why must I be always so repulsed by my own vulnerability but I find it very moving and impressive if other people are vulnerable with me????

MARINE HUNTER 08

Lover's Token (Trafalgar Law x Reader)

Warnings: suggestive, brief mentions of Dressrosa and Zou but no spoilers/graphic details

Summary: The two of you find some time alone together during Law's birthday celebration and feelings get confessed.

Author’s Note: I had to get something out for Law's birthday, so here this is! This is extremely rough and idk if I'm fully happy with it so I'll probably go back and edit this later, but I wanted to get this out today, so it is what it is. Happy Birthday to everyone's favorite Surgeon of Death <3. Happy reading.

It was no secret that the Heart Pirates loved to party. You couldn't name very many people who celebrated like they did, save for maybe the Strawhats. Sachi and Penguin were always looking for an excuse to have a huge celebration, so it really shouldn't have come as a shock that they had something planned today for Law's birthday.

"This is insubordination!"

You let yourself smile, your lips quirking up as Law's eye twitched in irritation. Sachi and Penguin had similar smirks on their own faces, neither one of them bothering to seem even a little bit regretful about their decisions.

"Sorry Captain, but you wouldn't have agreed if we asked!" Sachi explained, shrugging loosely as if that excused everything.

"Exactly! You left us no choice but to take this into our own hands," Penguin agreed, leaning nonchalantly against the railing of the Polar Tang's deck. "If it was up to you, you would've spent the day just like any other old day."

"Exactly," Law seethed, his voice low as he continued glaring at them. "You two must have a death wish if you knew that and still decided to change our route. We don't have time for this!"

"We can just catch a super fast current or something to make up the time," Penguin smiled, the sheer idiocy of his statement causing a vein to pop on Law's forehead.

You stifled a laugh, but as if he could sense your presence Law's head whipped towards you with a scowl. You gave him a tight-lipped smile, still suppressing your laughter, and waved from your spot down on the beach where the Polar Tang had docked.

"Did you know about this?"

"You should really be thanking me, you know," you said, in lieu of answering his question outright. "This is the tamest option I could get them to agree to. You don't even want to know what the original plan was."

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as Penguin and Sachi began making their way towards you on the beach. Most of the rest of the crew had already dispersed into town, agreeing to meet again later that night to celebrate properly. You saw the moment his resistance dissipated, his shoulders relaxing as he dropped his hand.

"Just- Don't do anything stupid," he relented, turning around and disappearing back into the ship to change.

You talked with Sachi and Penguin while waiting for him to return. You weren't sure how they managed to hear the news, but somehow they found out that an island only slightly off-route was having a festival on Law's birthday. You had to applaud them for finding something so cute for their celebration.

"Hey, why'd you tell Law we had something worse planned? Now he's gonna think we hate him!" Sachi groaned, playing up his annoyance by leaning all his weight on you.

"Because idiot," you said, shoving him back up and into Penguin who squawked at the sudden influx of weight against him. "It would be so much harder to convince him to go along with it if he knew this was the original plan. You've gotta make him think this was a middle ground."

"You're a genius," Penguin said, righting Sachi back up onto his own feet as he parroted the statement.

The three of you continued making casual conversation, talking about what you wanted to do most at the festival. When Law finally came back out, he was wearing his kimono from Wano like the rest of the crew and yourself.

"Alright, let's get this over with," he sighed, ignoring the cheers from the three of you as he walked past.

The festival itself was beautiful. The town must have spared no expense on the decorations as every corner of every street and every building was decked in lights and streamers. Street vendors were selling all kinds of different foods and there were multiple booths of games and attractions. You saw some of the crew already playing some of the games while others were drinking and walking around. You saw Bepo and Ikkaku playing a game with darts and immediately ran to join them.

Most of the day consisted of stuffing your face with all of the vendor's foods and trying to win every game you set your eyes on. You drifted between different groups, trying to soak up as much rare free time with the crew as you could. You spent some time with Law as well, visiting a few shops and forcing him to play some of the games you tried. The day flew by quickly and the sun began to set before you knew it.

The lights bathed the streets in a warm glow as the sunset painted the sky in pink and orange. It was finally time for the group to meet up. You made your way to the meeting spot, easily finding the clearing the group had scouted out earlier in the day and helping set up the area before Bepo was supposed to bring Law. You brought out the crew's personal stash of alcohol from the Polar Tang as well as all of Law's favorite foods, pre-made the night before in secret.

When Law finally arrives, being pulled ahead enthusiastically by Bepo, the crew is all ready. Standing in formation, Bepo runs over and takes his spot as Law stares at you all, his eyes widening in surprise. Before he can say anything, Penguin counts off and everyone shouts.

"Happy Birthday!"

Law turns his head and pulls his hat down to hide his embarrassment, which only makes the crew shout louder. They run over and pull him into a group hug before he can open a room and shamble himself out of it and you could swear you see the ghost of a smile on his face despite all his protesting to get off. You and the rest of the crew let him go after a little longer and then they begin the celebration.

The sunset fades and makes way to a night sky full of stars. The party is raging, most of the crew multiple drinks deep, and the food is long gone. You're talking with Ikakku and watching Penguin and Sachi dance together, always the center of attention at any celebration. Bepo is sleeping with Law propped up against him, content to watch his crew have fun from the sidelines.

"So, you're doing it tonight, aren't you?" Ikkaku asked, her excitement doing nothing to calm your nerves.

"I don't know. I think I should just give him his gift and wait for another day," you answer, biting your lip out of nervous habit.

"No, you've got to do it tonight. I'm telling you, you have nothing to worry about," she said, pulling you into a side hug as she took a gulp of her drink. "You can't just wait for the right moment, you've got to make it yourself."

You sighed, knowing that she was right. You had been harboring a crush on your captain for months now and it had only gotten worse after his return from Dressrosa. Absence makes the heart grow fonder you guessed. Ikkaku had been the only one you'd confided in, but it had become obvious to most of the crew after Law's return. Unfortunately for you, they care about your happiness and have been pushing you to confess ever since. You always denied them, not wanting to risk your friendship or make things awkward, sure that Law would never like you back, but the feelings you were harboring were beginning to be unbearable. You really loved him and at this point, you would rather rip off the bandaid of a rejection than drown in the misery of not knowing. "Looks like now is your chance," Ikkaku said, bringing you out of your thoughts as she pointed to where Law had been sitting.

You looked over just in time to catch Law's back retreating out of the clearing, heading towards the beach. You felt your stomach flip, a ripple of anxiety making you doubt yourself. As much as you didn't want to stew in your feelings any longer, you also didn't want to ruin his birthday. Law deserved to have a day for himself, especially after everything he'd been through recently. One look from Ikakku told you that she wouldn't let you chicken out, so with a final good luck from her, you followed after him.

You followed his footsteps, easily finding him sitting against a tree on the edge of the forest. The soft sound of waves crashing against the sand covered the sound of your steps, but you knew he could hear you approaching anyway. He acknowledged your presence with a simple nod of his head in your direction, his sign that you could settle in next to him. You took the silent invitation and did just that, keeping a small but respectful distance between the two of you.

"I hope this plan was worth the extra week of chores," he said, a playful tilt to his lips as he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye.

You smiled, rolling your eyes at his antics. "You can just say thank you, you know."

He huffed out a laugh but didn't respond. You knew he left because he wanted some quiet time away from the commotion, so you wouldn't take that from him. Your mind wandered as you sat next to Law in silence. You'd spent so much time with him, steadily growing closer and closer from the moment you joined the Heart Pirates all those years ago. At first, he'd seemed so intimidating with his glares and his general aura, but now he was like your book, with all his subtext and hidden meaning behind his words and actions highlighted and annotated. Law's voice speaking no louder than a whisper caught your attention despite how deep in thought you were.

"Thank you."

You blinked, your head struggling to catch up with the rest of you. You looked over at him to find him hiding behind his hat once again. Much closer this time, you could see the tips of his ears turn slightly pink and his constant embarrassment at showing any vulnerability made you smile. He looked over at you, lips downturned into a frown.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?"

You tease him, but there's no heat behind it. Law clicks his tongue once more but his lips quirk up slightly at the side in amusement. The silence settles back in and you're deep in thought once more, but just like you can read Law, he can read you right back.

"Alright, out with it," he huffs, catching your attention again.

"What?"

"There's clearly something on your mind. What is it?"

He's direct and to the point, leaving no room to argue. You bit your lip, trying to find the right words and the appropriate starting place for what you want to say and he lets you figure it out at your own pace. You sigh, shifting slightly to face him a little more and he perks his head up in attention.

"I know you weren't planning to come back."

You can tell from the way his eyes widen for a moment that this isn't what he was expecting. You think for a moment that he doesn't understand what you meant, but of course he does. You're talking about Dressrosa, no doubt about it. He frowns slightly, the expression second nature on his face. You can see the gears in his head turning and you wait with bated breath for his response.

"How?"

The question is short and sweet with absolutely no elaboration, but you don't need it.

"I don't know. I didn't know until we saw you on Zou. Something about that look in your eyes, I just felt it," you explain, your voice bittersweet as you add, "You do a good job putting up a front but your eyes always betray you."

He doesn't say anything right away and you wait to see if he will. When a few more moments pass without a word from him, you pick up once more.

"The others don't know if you're worried about that. We planned this big celebration because there were a few too many times this year when we didn't think we'd get another birthday with you at all. Out on the sea, there's no promise of another tomorrow. We've watched you go through a lot this year and we've almost lost you countless times, especially with Doflamingo. When we heard the news... I'll never forget the crew's faces. The idea that we almost lost you and we weren't even there..." your voice wavered, the tightening of your throat cutting you off.

"I made it, though," he says, his voice laced with a hint of disbelief as if the idea that he's still alive after everything he's been through is baffling.

"But you weren't planning to, where you?" you ask, but it's more of a statement than a question.

He sighs and you can hear the answer in his resignation before he says it. "No, I wasn't."

You'd known, and yet the words still hang heavy in the air.

"You're so stupid," you choke out, eyes burning with passion and unspoken anger as you look right at him. "Do you really think we wouldn't have gone straight to Dressrosa the minute we heard the news? If you had died, we would have spent every second of every day going after Doflamingo until he was either dead or we died trying. You of all people should know that."

He opens his mouth but no words come out. He snaps it shut, his brain working a mile a minute as he tries to come up with a response, but seemingly draws up blank. "I don't know what we would have done without you. We love you, you know. I-" you stalled, your heart racing as you debated your next words. There would be no taking them back once you said them, but something in you told you that now was the time. "I love you, Law. I have for a long time. I wasn't ever going to tell you, but something about watching you walk back to us on Zou and knowing that you hadn't meant to ever make it there, I just knew I had to say something eventually."

"You love me?"

The question is dry, betraying no emotion and you have to look away as you blush furiously. You scowl, the heat from your embarrassment burning in you as you start to stand. "You're so insufferable. I'm not repeating myself, I've already embarrassed myself enough. I'm not expecting you to feel the same, I just-"

You're stopped by a hand grabbing your wrist and yanking you back down to the ground. You're turned towards Law with nowhere else to look but up at him. His lips are pressed firmly into a line, but his eyes are what pin you in place. There's a thousand emotions burning in his eyes, but there's a flicker of hope in them that halts your attempts to escape.

"Say it again," he pleads, his voice barely louder than the crashing waves a few feet away.

"I love you." "Again."

"I love you."

"Again."

"Law," you start in protest, your cheeks burning still, but this time from the intensity of his gaze rather than your own embarrassment. He cuts you off again and the hint of desperation in his voice gets rid of your hesitation.

"Please."

"I love you," you whisper, your voice cracking as you say those words for the fourth time that night.

There's one silent moment where Law doesn't move. His eyes hold yours, searching for any indication that you don't mean what you've said, but he must be satisfied with what he finds because a moment later his lips meet yours. He pulls you forward, his free hand coming up to hold your face as he ghosts his lips over yours. His kiss is light at first, firm but soft enough that you could pull back if you wanted to. When you don't, instead kissing him back as your hands fist into the front of his kimono, he kisses you harder, the hand on your face holds you like you're something precious.

The surroundings slowly blur around you until all you can focus on is Law, right in front of you and kissing you as if it will tell you every unspoken thought in his head. You shift slightly, one of your hands coming up to splay out on his chest. The movement elicits a groan from him that makes a new but familiar feeling begin churning in you. You let out a content sigh as Law moves the hand that was holding your wrist to your waist, pulling you even closer to him. You can feel the kiss turning into something more but a sudden bang and explosion of color breaks the two of you apart.

Law's grip tightens protectively for a moment until you both look up and realize it's just a firework. You'd forgotten that the festival would come to a close with a firework show and you laugh slightly as the sky begins to light up with sparkling fireworks and cracks of color. Law's grip loosens, but he still holds you close. You let yourself lean against him and he wraps his arm around you, allowing you to settle in against him. Your heart is so full it feels like it could burst and you can feel the similar rhythm of his own as the two of you enjoy the show. After a few minutes, the last firework paints the sky and then the only light shining down is the moon. It's silent for a few moments, but you break the spell by pulling back slightly.

"I got you something," you say, still breathless.

He settles back against the tree, his face schooled back into a blank slate, but you can see the curiosity in his eyes. His one arm still holds you close and his other hand falls to his lap. With the hand not placed against his chest, you reach into your pocket and quickly grab the item.

"Close your eyes," you request, hiding the item in the palm of your hand.

He obliges, his lip turning up slightly into a smile. You tap his hand, your quiet signal to hold it out. When he does, you bring your hand above his and drop the item into his palm. His hand curls up slightly, not wanting to drop it, and he opens his eyes.

Sitting in his hand was a small silver coin. It was larger than a normal coin and you knew from your own experience holding it that it had a satisfying weight to it. The main detail though was the familiar image pressed into its faces. On the face of both sides of the coin was Law's Jolly Roger, the face smiling up at him from where it sat in his hand. You watched Law closely for his reaction. You knew he liked collecting coins, but there was no guarantee that he would like it.

"Wha- You... How?" he asked, at a loss for words.

"It took a lot of money and even more begging, but I convinced Kidd to help me make it. I drew out the design and brought all the materials, he just made the mold and helped me make it," you explained, the smile on your face growing as you watched him move the coin and run his thumb over the face.

"It's... perfect," he said, leaning over and pressing a kiss onto your temple. "I love it."

When he pulls back, you catch his eyes and you can see the unspoken words burning there. I love you. I love you. I love you. They sear into you with intensity and you have to smile at how out of his element he is that he can't even say three words you've said not minutes beforehand.

"Happy Birthday, Law."

You kiss him this time and you relish in the way you can feel him relax against you. His hands return to their earlier position and this time you don't pull away as he kisses you harder and pulls you closer. You let his hands wander and allow yours to do the same as the kiss becomes more desperate, more needy with every passing second. Law's hands greedily move your kimono off your shoulders and he pulls back momentarily to catch your eyes and silently ask for permission to continue. A nod from you is all he needs and the two of you spend the rest of the night in a shared pleasure you only dreamed was possible.

The next morning, the crew is suspiciously absent as you make your way back to the Polar Tang with Law from your night on the beach. The clearing where the celebration was set up is cleaned up with no sign of a party left behind and the few crew members you see as you approach the submarine only greet you both with a happy good morning and a knowing smile. You go to move your hand out of Law's, knowing that he enjoys his privacy and not wanting to give the crew any more reason to tease him, but he holds it firmly. You can see him flushing slightly at the crew's teasing smiles, but he never lets go, simply choosing to flip them all off with his free hand and lead you back into the ship.

Maybe he couldn't say it back yet, but you knew. It's in the swirling pool of emotions in his eyes, in the hidden meaning behind every word, and in the way he chooses to withstand the crew's teasing now. Now that you've seen it, you realize it's always been there, waiting for you to read it.

He's loved you for a long time.

ღ radishaur — i do not own any of these characters. do not plagiarize. please enjoy and remember to be respectful! 

Filthy - Luffy 

Summary: Luffy's changed a lot in the past two years. Reader is a Straw Hat who is an archer and has spent the past two years training on Amazon Lily with the Kuja Pirates. Text below the cut.

Pairing: Monkey D. Luffy x Afab!Reader

Genre: smut

CW: oral sex (reader receiving), dirty talk, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, a little bit of a silly ending

Word Count: 2,110

Undaunted by the dark of night, you followed the smoke on the horizon to your captain’s camp. You felt eyes on your person the entire way, but by now, you felt confident nothing would attack you. After all, your captain had tamed the entire island, from every hulking beast to each little mouse. And when you had stepped foot on it for the first time in almost two years a month ago, he had tamed you, too, had sucked all that Kuja Pirate independence out of you and fucked an addiction to his sex right into you. 

Despite the chilly night, your cheeks flushed with warmth. They only grew hotter as you reached your destination, your heart racing in your chest. 

You lingered at the tree line for a moment, your bow in one hand, a large platter of freshly made dorayaki in the other, watching your captain as he laid in front of the blazing fire he’d made, the flames casting a warm glow over his lean figure, illuminating the scar that now stretched the expanse of his chest. 

Though his straw hat was over his eyes and he laid perfectly still, you could tell he wasn’t asleep. Not just that, you knew he had sensed you approach, had picked up on your presence the second you landed on the beach. Your time training on Amazon Lily with the Kuja Pirates had made you more agile, more stealthy, than ever, but he picked up on your presence in an instant. 

You recalled that first night like it was yesterday. Knowing Rayleigh would be upset if he found out, as would Hancock, but overcome by the desire to see your beloved captain as soon as you heard Rayleigh had returned to Sabaody early, you had snuck out of the village and stolen a small boat. And when you had wandered into the jungle in search of your captain, you had found him. Or rather, you had found someone who looked a bit like him. 

Filthy as if he hadn’t bathed in weeks, with stubble on his cheeks- something you’d never seen on Luffy’s face before, and a sort of animalistic gleam in his eye, you had been unsettled. 

Then, you had been aroused, the two of you sizing each other up like strangers. 

You didn’t know how long it took- a few minutes, maybe just a couple of seconds- for him to have you pinned against a tree with his face between your legs, lapping at your folds like he’d been wandering the desert for months and you were the only thing he had to drink. Once he had his fill, he’d pinned you to the jungle floor and rutted into you like a wild beast. And you had begged him for more, cumming more times than you could count. 

The happy go lucky kid you had met was still in there, somewhere, but he’d been forced to make room for a man, a man with a voracious appetite and sexual prowess, a man with rough hands but a soft tongue, a man whose fearsome reputation was known the world over, a man you would risk absolutely anything to be tangled naked with. 

“You’re late,” he said in that gruff voice of his, a little raspy, a little husky. And so much deeper than you recalled. 

You stepped into the firelight and stood over him, willing your heart to stop fluttering in your chest. “I wasn’t aware we had an appointment, Captain.” 

“You always get here just after sunset.” 

“It’s only been four weeks since I started coming,” you told him, setting the platter of dorayaki down on a log; you knew Luffy could hunt and cook his own meat, but you also knew he was hopeless at baking, a problem for someone with a sweet tooth like his. And though you knew he needed to train, not be spoiled, you just couldn’t help yourself. 

“Only four weeks, huh? Could’ve sworn it’s been longer.” Finally, he sat up, his straw hat falling back off his head and hanging from his neck, a bit thicker than it had been two years ago. His black hair was a complete mess, sticking up in all directions, and while you used to think it made him look like a little boy, you now saw him as a disheveled man who was too busy fighting to worry about his appearance. The muscle he had put on certainly helped, his once-lanky limbs now corded with it, his scarred abdomen thick with it. “I guess I’ve gotten used to having you.” 

Having. Luffy never would have used that language in the past. 

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat. Just when you got it down, a hand wrapped around your leg, just above your knee. A gasp spilled from your lips at the feel of his calloused palm against your bare skin. 

“Missed you,” he muttered, rubbing his cheek against your bare thigh. You had taken to wearing fewer clothes while on Amazon Lily, and that was the first thing he had clocked when you appeared on his little island. The second thing he had noticed was your chest. Had you been hiding your breasts this whole time, or had he simply not noticed? Nearly two years mostly alone in the jungle had opened his eyes to many things, including that he had not been indulging in all that life had to offer, particularly not life as a pirate captain with a beautiful woman on his crew.  

“I missed you too, Luffy,” you muttered. You looked down at him and pulled your bottom lip into your mouth. You’d spent the entire journey with a dull ache between your legs that, if you were being honest, had begun building the moment you sailed away last time, but now that you were with him, now that you felt him touching you, you wondered how you had waited a full week to come crawling back. 

“Come ‘ere.” 

You put up no resistance as he laid back down, bringing you with him. You knew exactly what he wanted, knew exactly how starved he was for the sensitive folds between your legs. 

Luffy’s mouth had started watering the second he sensed your presence. He didn’t think twice about pulling you onto the ground with him and pushing your legs apart. The only thing that gave him pause were the panties you wore, an annoying piece of fabric he was convinced you wore just to inconvenience him. 

“Why?” He wanted to ask, but the words were stuck in his throat. He didn’t have time to waste on questions. He was hungry.  

He ripped your panties with ease. He thought he heard you gasp; you might have even complained. He barely heard, his ears ringing. The only thing that mattered was the sight of your pussy right in front of him, already leaking cream, glistening with his dessert. After a long week of hard training, he thought, this was exactly what he needed. 

“That’s my girl,” he said in a low voice. “Nice and ready.” He grabbed your thighs and pulled you down, burying his face in your needy cunt and inhaling the scent. Some sort of low sound, either a growl or a groan, spilled from his lips. 

He lapped at your wet folds, your flavor exploding on his tongue. His efforts earned him more of that wonderful wetness, and the taste of it only made him greedier. He thumbed your clit to draw more out of you and pushed his tongue into your tight little hole, eager to feel you clench around it as you came. 

He was vaguely aware of you gasping and saying his name, but he was more focused on the growing bulge between his legs, the rock hard erection that he had every intention of burying inside you- no condom, no protection, not a single layer between you as you fucked like wild animals in the jungle. 

He pulled his tongue out of your cunt long enough to say, “Take your clothes off.” 

You obliged, pulling your top off and tossing it aside. The chilly air made sure your nipples were nice and erect. You tweaked them as your captain shoved his tongue back into your hole, his thumb still tormenting your clit. It wasn’t a moment later that your first orgasm came over you, a pleasure that had you collapsing forward. 

Luffy tightened his grip on your thighs to keep your cunt on his face. 

“Sweet pussy,” he muttered, licking up all that cream. “Gonna cum again.” 

“Luffy.” You screwed your eyes shut, jarred by the overstimulation. 

He didn’t relent, humming in contentment as you gave him more and more sweet liquid to drink up, clenched harder and harder around his greedy tongue. He held you in place despite your body jerking around, and the result was another orgasm. He lapped at your cunt a few more times, savoring the way you bucked your hips against his face. 

Luffy’s appetite hadn’t been sated, not in the slightest, but he had no choice but to stop. His balls were aching between his legs, his cock rock hard and in desperate need of you. The way you clenched around his tongue was the way you’d clench around his cock, and he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. 

He supposed he could always lick your cunt some more after he fucked you. And then he could fuck you again, if he so desired. You had the entire night. 

With that in mind, he pushed you off his face, only to pin you under him, wrapping his strong arms around you and holding you beneath him. 

You struggled a little, but it was more out of habit than anything else, unaccustomed to being mounted, particularly not by your captain. But the way he wound his arms around you and pinned you beneath his body made your cunt ache. You needed to feel him inside you, needed to feel that delicious stretch, needed to feel full. 

Luffy nuzzled his cheek against yours, relishing the softness of your skin. He placed a few warm kisses against your cheek, and another few in the crook of your neck. 

“I’ve got so much cum in these balls,” he groaned. “You’re gonna take all of it. Can you do that for me? Can you take all my cum?” 

Pressing your lips together to keep the bottom one from quivering, you nodded your head with a sniffle. 

“Need to hear you say it, babe.” He reached between your bodies and undid the zipper of his shorts, pulling out his veiny cock. He pressed it into your ass, exhilarated by the sensation of your soft skin and supple flesh against his erection. He rutted against you a few times, unable to stop himself. 

You took a few breaths to find your voice. “I can do it. I can take all of it.” 

“That’s my girl.” 

God, when did Luffy get like this? You thought you were going to explode. And then, to make matters worse, he pushed the head of his cock into you. 

“Oh, fuck.” Tears pricked at your eyes. 

“You said you could take it,” he told you, pushing deeper inside you. 

You cried out. 

“Are you crying?” He gathered a fistful of your hair in his hand and pulled your head back. “After you promised you could take it?” 

“It’s just so good.” 

“I know it is.” With that, he bottomed out inside you. 

You barely had time to grow accustomed to the feel of his cock inside you before he began thrusting into you, dragging his hips against your ass and pounding your weepy little cunt like he owned it. And he did own it. 

The lewd clapping sound filtered through the forest, drowning out the crackle of the fire. Your moans followed as Luffy reached beneath you to pinch one of your nipples, his other hand finding your clit and thumbing it.  

The feeling of his warm balls slapping against you only made it worse. Soon enough, you felt yourself clenching around him, and it was that clench that drew Luffy’s orgasm out of him. 

“Oh, it’s coming. I’m cumming. Fuck.” He grunted and groaned, snapping his his against yours as he pumped you full of hot cum, thrusting a few more times for good measure to be sure it was nice and deep inside you.  

“Don’t worry,” he said, pressing a warm kiss into your cheek, covered in dirty and tears. “There’s more where that came from.” With that, he hopped to his feet, a smile stretching across his face. “You brought me dorayaki? Thanks!” 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

Dreaming of You

Masterlist Here

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck.”

Sir Crocodile 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was going to be a long and tiring day.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mine.”

Buggy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I am one for fucking…”

Mihawk

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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