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daddyricsdoll · 6 months

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To Love ✭ Lando Norris

Summary: Lando Norris is easy to love, and how lucky I am that he's mine. These are the five moments that made us feel so much more than just love!

Warnings: Unprotected sex, Fingering, Oral (female receiving), Choking, Creampie. And fluff! I know fluff doesn't count as a warning but I just thought you should know.

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: This is based off of the song To Love by Suki Waterhouse. I did kind of get carried away but I don't regret it. I'm in love with the song, and I'm in love with Lando. And I started writing this nearly 2 weeks ago so yay! I've finally finished! I really hope you enjoy reading this! Lando birthday post? 🤭

I remember his face from that room, the one where we made eye contact for moments, moments that I had only hoped would never end. But then someone walked in and we both never saw each other again. But I remember the feeling of him. When his soft hands covered my eyes and his warm breath tickled my ear. I forced the tips of my lips not to curl as his presence finally enveloped me. The feeling wasn’t familiar but it felt like home, it made my dead heart flutter and breathing ease.

I hadn’t even known his name, or heard his voice, but I let him grab me by the hand and drag me away. I knew it was him, the one I thought I would never lay eyes on again but I remember. I remember him. I remember his lips finally against mine and then trailing against my jawline. Hands sliding down my sides. He lifted the flimsy fabric of my dress and glided his fingers through my folds–encouraging my breathing to get hitched and face too warm to make out words. He didn’t slip inside of me just yet, watching the way I would squirm and flicker my eyelids when he was millimetres away.

I whined when I lost his touch, feeling so empty, more than when I lay alone in bed, in the room not a single other soul had entered. But my eyes healed me when they opened and he was still there standing before me. His fingers hurriedly undoing his pants, lips planting open mouthed kisses around my neck–heightening my pulse and my fervent desire for more than just his touch. The one he had given to so many others before me, but it would change, I was certain I would be the last, and I was sure that he would agree.

One of my legs was pulled up against his firm body, perfectly fitting along his waist. He ran his tip through and along my folds before very leisurely making his way in, inch by inch filling me up. Sucking in deep breaths and tangling my hand into his hair, he finally fit his whole length in.

Hushed curses left his mouth and my stomach curled at his voice, and it was like he knew because he looked up to me and parted his full lips. Mouth emitting an distinguishable noise and he ultimately asked for my name, and without hesitation, I gave it to him while asking for his in return and the interesting timing. “It’s so I know which name I can moan out.” He looked at me directly in the eyes, a little glimmer in his, coating the splashes of blues and greens. I couldn’t help but chuckle before he cut me short with a quicker thrust. He pulled all the way out, glistening with my arousal and then teasingly easing his way back in.

I whined out his name, the one I now know—Lando. He groaned out my name as my walls started clenching around him. He squeezed his eyelids shut- concealing the mesmerising colour of his pupils making me acknowledge the delicacy of his features. His flushed lips pigmented with hues of pinks and reds- slightly parted sucking in sharp breaths.

I was impelled to him and our lips collided again, my hands gliding to his curls and he lowered his head to begin devouring my neck. Not reducing his performance or pace–internally making me do backflips and beg to hold him like this eternally. The tears glimmering in my eyes finally fled as the knot in my stomach ultimately burst. I cried out his name in broken sobs and rough hands, pulling him closer to me, harmonious praise filling his ears. His manly groans and childish whines fused together as he released inside of me with a last string of thrusts. Each one emitting a new sound from me. Simultaneously we both look up at each other, beads of sweat on his tan forehead, reddened cheeks, lips ajar trying to catch the stuffy air around us.

I remember, that was when we had first met, in the crowded room where we had caught the other's eyes, but it was like we knew each other. We had confidence that we were right– and we were. From when he placed his hands over my eyes like it was the 100th time, and I chuckled at him like it was. He showed me intense and mild– first and last, but most importantly love. I always thought it was hard, hard to find, hard to hold onto. But with him it was easy. He made himself so easy to love. When his hand holds mine or rests on my back, when he loves me tenderly and never lets go.

✭

“Come on, read to me” The brunette lays his head on my lap and his feet rest off of the side of the couch. I chuckle at his gesture- wide grinned and oh so gorgeous. We both chuckle and he examines my face as I open my mouth to start reading. “To be fond of dancing was a certain step toward falling in love; and very lively hopes of Mr Bingely’s heart were entertained.”

My eyes glance down at Lando, a content smile plastered on his face. “Are you fond of dancing?” He asks me, full of interest and curiosity. “Yeah, well I’ve never done it before, but I’m sure I’ll love it.” Just as quickly as he lay down, he gets back up and reaches a calloused hand out to me. “Let’s dance” Enchanting grin on his lips as his other hand goes into his pocket and fishes out his phone.

I place my bookmark between the thin pages and grab his solitary hand as “Can’t take my eyes off you” by Frankie Valli plays from the speakers of his phone. He effortlessly throws his phone on the couch and places his free hand on my waist. One of my hands rested on his shoulder and the other tangled with his.

We slowly sway to the music trying to keep up with the rhythm of the song. Pupils staring into the other, no need for words to express our feelings as we already know. We read the other from the twitch in their smile to the furrow in their brow and emotion in their gleaming eyes. I let him lead us, the pace and our movements. As the song progresses, our speed changes, he sings it with much emotion, head swinging everywhere but gaze upon me. And when the infamous chorus comes up he starts swinging our arms up and down, feet jumping all around the room.

Both of our faces beaming with happiness and loud simultaneous laughs fleeing our mouths. We betray dancing and he wraps me in a tight embrace, still keeping our bodies swaying to the music, but having nothing except our clothes keeping us from each other. His big hands splay out on my back and my smaller ones laze on his nape, tickling the little hairs on the back of his head. We listen to the others breathing trying to reach the same tempo while our lips inch closer and closer, ultimately meeting.

The kiss wasn’t rushed, it was captivating. Forcing me to stay, and let him steal my breath, only ever releasing from him when his hands have to force me to. He holds either side of my face and plants firm pecks along my features, trailing them from my eyebrows to my nose, cheeks and jawline. My face heats up and I’m sure my cheeks go the same shade as my lips. Words don’t seem possible for me so I let out little mumbles, the words–I have no clue of, but I think he knows from the small curve in his lips.

We held each other that night involved in a physical love not one that was severe but serene.

✭

“Did you- did you ever expect me? Like did you think there was always a place in your life that was…missing something or waiting for it and that thing was…”

“Yes. There was always a part in my world for you. A space waiting for that girl from my dreams and now, I… I have her.” His voice was soft, almost a whisper and his cheeks speckled with pink, I could feel myself rising in temperature. Still after months I couldn’t control myself around him, becoming flustered and flushed every time he looked at me or made a noise.

✭

He intertwined one of his hands with mine, other arm holding our cart bag full of golf clubs. He looked so beautiful under the sunlight, the beams of light shining onto his tanned skin and shifting the colour of his irises. On this day I’d let him take me out to play golf. I had lied to him, claiming I’d never even held a club before. But all I wanted was to feel the warmth of his body against mine and breathing in my ear.

He became so euphoric, having the opportunity to show me one of his favourite things. I had altered my stance and swung the club miserably. I nearly cried myself, but then his hands gripped my waist and pulled my body into his. As his warmth surrounded me I nearly melted like ice cream vulnerable to the sun. His hands wrapped over mine and I could feel his breathing against my neck and scarcely caressing my ear.

He whispered words in my ear, but my mind was stuck in a haze that I could only hear the outline of them. He tried swinging the club with me, expecting for it to turn out just like the movies we had watched together but we failed. Although we did succeed in laughing together like a couple of idiots, knowing we could rely on the other for laughter was another one of our strongest holds.

Our fits of chuckles eventually died down and we tried a few more holes. Tilted lips still intact and little giggles along the way, from when he wouldn’t get the best putt or chip and would react overdramatically. Hands in the air, gripping my shoulders or stomping like a kid.

We hadn’t even made it to the 10th hole when he suggested we try something else out, he kept telling me it wasn’t because this isn’t enjoyable but he wanted us to try something new. So he tangled his hands with mine again and led me to his car.

His hand rested on my thigh as he drove us around, having no location set in mind but just the feeling of being together without having the worry or stress of life. I let him drive us to a secluded area, it has a perfect view of Monaco and it’s where we usually go for our runs. I don’t question him to why we’re here, but my breath hitches as his fingers travel further up my skirt. I didn’t have a need for him right now, but suddenly it has risen and I push my hips forward, making him teasingly chuckle at me, but finally slide his fingers under the fabric of my panties.

“Fuck, you’re drenched. And how long has it been? A few seconds.” I look down innocently, but still spread my legs wider.

“Come here” He demands of me and helps me cross the middle console so I sit directly on his lap. Holding his shoulders for stability. It was a tight space, but we both knew we could make do with it. My core brushes against his bulge and he lets out a deep groan, lifting me up the slightest bit so he can undo his belt and pull his pants down at just the right length.

My hands do the work of lifting my dress up and bunching it up by my chest. He moves my panties to the side and slowly lowers me onto his dick. His eyes squeeze shut and mouth opens wide as a long whine leaves my lips and I feel his dick stretching me with his thickness. His large hands continue lowering me, as deep as he can get. Once he strokes that one spot that has my release escalating, we stay there and just savour the feeling. Once I feel the need for more movement I leisurely lift myself up and then fall back down onto him. My clit brushes against his skin and I writhe my hips to gain more friction and pleasure. He helps me by shifting his hips along with mine and we moan simultaneously.

“You want more?” He breathes out, and when I nod he lifts his hips up and somehow thrusts deeper into me. My head goes into the space between his neck and shoulder and I bite his exposed skin. I expect the sudden action to shock him, and it did, but a pleasurable moan leaves his mouth and I start to cover his skin in love bites. He continues his motions at a gratifying pace and I move my hips along with him, so we both meet at the middle making the escalation of our releases rocket.

The moment was so risky but oh so intimate that we didn’t care if someone caught us. And that was what drove our desire for this more, the risk, the danger. A long whine left my mouth as I came and the tears that pooled in my eyes finally fled. He continues lifting my hips up and down– riding him out of my high and into his. I place more bites and kisses on his neck and his thrusts become sloppier, losing pattern and then he lets out a low groan as he ultimately cums in me.

He doesn’t stop but goes faster, the noise of our motions even louder and I can feel the knot in my stomach tightening at every ram. I feel more sensitive to his touch and I slam down onto him with more force as he brings me to my second climax of the afternoon. He whispers such dirty words to me in such soft voices, one hand leaves my hip and goes to the back of my neck, pulling my head back to watch the tears that left my eyes before guiding my head back to his, and our lips collide. I let out whimpers into his mouth and he groans into mine.

“Are you gonna, cum?” He asks between thrusts. I can’t manage to find words but noises come out oh so very easily and once again I cum on him. Only seconds later I feel him twitching inside of me and just like the first time he releases into me. I feel so high as his cum fills me up and instead of resting like I thought we would, he opens the door and while he’s still buried deep in me, I wrap my legs around his waist and he walks us out to the front of the car.

My back lands on the bonnet of the car and he pulls out of me. “Fuck look at that, you’re dripping with my cum.” He groans out as he bends down to look at the mess he made. His beautiful lips curl into a grin before his bright eyes become darker and he commands me to turn around, so I listen to his demands and my chest presses against the hot surface of his car.

His big hands open my feeble legs wider and he pushes into me with much vigour. My whole body moves with his, one of his hands moves to my hip and the other grips my hair in a makeshift ponytail. He hadn’t ever shown this much power, force, dominance, and I can say, I enjoy this side of him. The one where he tells me what to do in that one voice, where he wants to wear me out, fill me up.

I feel so sensitive to his touch now, more than I had been before and an endless string of moans emit from my mouth. The hand he placed on my hip now slid up and down my side, splaying out on my abdomen before moving up to hold one of my breasts. His pelvis slamming against the skin of my ass, and sharp breaths leaving his mouth. I whine and wail little begs of please. Not asking for anything specific, not really having a clue what to ask for.

His hand leaves my hair and wraps around my throat. Light enough for me to breathe, but firm enough for me to feel it. His thrusts become messier but still hold the same amount of power and every time he strokes that one spot in me, I know I’m close. “Gonna fill you up again” He murmurs between each ram and at his words and actions I finally release with a loud whine and moan. Not even seconds later I feel him cum in me again.

After a few short thrusts he pulls out and I feel the loss of him before two of his thick fingers fill the empty space. I soon realise why, as he pushes his cum back into me. I moan at his touch and then whine at the loss of it again. That was until he turned my body around and before I gained my stance he pushed me back and shoved his fingers in my mouth.

“Taste me” He whispers and I swirl my tongue around his two fingers, till he slowly drags them out. I watch as he slips them into his mouth, his eyes beam into mine– sultry and tantalising. My legs couldn’t bear to move so when he bent down and spread them apart again, I didn’t do a single thing to stop him, or help him. I did know that I would barely be able to handle more, but oh lust is a strong feeling. And so is his tongue against my swollen clit. He helps my body lay down on the bonnet of the car just like a bed so he can perfectly watch the way I clench my walls and keep his cum deep in me.

My legs urge to close when he makes contact with my clit again, flicking it up and down while his fingers start pumping in me viciously. “Gonna push my cum deeper in you huh. You like that?” He asks my helpless figure, arms splayed out next to me, head pointed to the sky and eyes shut closed. My involuntary moans and blaring whines are the only sounds beside his harsh thrusts. His name leaves my mouth a countless amount of times people could mistake it for a mantra. “Oh Lando. Please Lando. Fuck…Lando. ”

The most I had ever said his name, oh his sweet name. So recognisable from others and when he first told me it, it never left my mind. I think of his name with hearts around it, but now, I’ve added fire.

My back arches at every curl of his fingers and stroke of his tongue. My release only mere seconds away, and he knows as speaks against my clit, telling me to cum in his mouth and cover his tongue. My legs shake and my overstimulated walls flutter around his overactive fingers.

I whine out loud as I release and he sucks on my clit, licking it and trying to gather all of my cum. His fingers don’t stop driving in and out of me that I have to beg him to stop. And when he finally does I watch his head lift up and a boyish grin mixed with a smirk dances on his face. He opens his mouth and shows me the last of my cum sitting on his tongue before he closes his mouth to swallow it.

His hands come beside me as he stands up just to lean back down on my body and give me a soft kiss. Once he pulls away he slips in two of his fingers in my mouth which makes me whine but I comply as I suck on his fingers not failing to get a groan from him. Very slowly he slides his fingers out then starts placing small kisses all over my face. Wrapping his arms around my body and digging his head into the crook of my neck to land more kisses on my skin. It makes me giggle and I wrap my arms around him too, pulling him closer to me than before. We lay on the bonnet of his car until the sun sunk in the sky, full of laughter and love.

✭

“That’s my top five favourite times with you” He gives me a delicate smile and grabs my hands in his. “Lando, that’s four.”

“Oh…you're right” I can see the gears turning in his head as he mentally counts all of the moments he had talked about.

“Sorry but you’ve got to think of another one, unless I’m that boring.”

“Ok then, the last time is now.” He says with much certainty and confidence.

“Why now…?” I question.

“Because of this” I watch as one of his hands reaches into his pocket and he pulls out a small box. My mouth slowly gapes open and my eyes pool with tears as he opens the box precisely and then my eyes land on the ring.

I look back at Landos beautiful tanned face, eyes vibrant and adoring. They gleam with unshed tears too, and he nods at me. Letting me know this is real and he wants me, forever and always, through richer and poorer, thick and thin, till death do us part. Yes becomes the only word that leaves my mouth and I don’t stop saying it even after he put the ring on my finger and I leapt into his arms. Sitting in his lap, surrounded by his devotion and love.

I remember his face from that room, the one where we made eye contact for moments, moments that I had only hoped would never end. But then someone walked in and we both still managed to see each other again. And oh how lucky we are.

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maiverie · 11 months

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BITE BY BITE ┊ CHAPTER ONE .

in which you’re a vampire, and heeseung teaches you how he likes to be bitten.

SYNOPSIS. lee heeseung has one reputation, and it’s that he’s not afraid of anything: of rules, of authority, and especially not of vampires. he’s obviously bad news, and for such reasons, you’ve always made sure to never cross his path. it isn’t until one fateful night that you find yourselves face to face and what he tells you makes your entire world flip on its axis.

“bite me, fangs. just like last time.”

PAIRING. college playboy!heeseung x vampire fem!reader

GENRES. romance, fantasy, slight thriller

WARNINGS. swearing; blood and violence; mentions of death; descriptive & suggestive (makeout) scenes (no smut); some angst; heeseung is kind of a dick / overly flirtatious at times / slightly toxic (sorry I'm kinda into that)

╰ ( # ) tracking tag ‣ #(—BBB 🔗) ┊ SPOTIFY PLAYLIST! 📌

CHAPTER ONE. ╰ ✩ ┈ 7k ﹕masterlist ﹕ next . ╰ ✩ ┈ warnings : swearing, suggestive scenes, mentions of death ╰ ✩ ┈ a/note : narrative will flit between heeseung & yn's povs

“your son will die early.”

they say the scariest type of people are the ones who have nothing to lose.

“he will die before his twenty-fifth birthday.”

heeseung disagrees.

he thinks those who have everything to lose are far more terrifying.

this was a lesson he learned when he was just twelve years old.

he’s never really believed in fortune tellers, but that hadn’t stopped his parents from impelling him to visit one on his twelfth birthday. that fateful day was the first spark of what would soon become a raging inferno, because it was then and there that a morbid foretelling had been carved into his fate.

“lee heeseung will die from two bites on his neck.”

there are two types of responses to a death curse.

one, wait for your death — wither away with each second that passes, like you’re a candle slowly melting until the flame is swallowed by a pool of liquid wax.

or two, be a fire — be a raging, catastrophic wildfire; one that scorches everything within its proximity and doesn’t wait to be extinguished, but has to be extinguished.

you can wait for death or play it like a game.

heeseung chose the latter.

he constantly plays dice for death.

“are you scared, heeseung?”

heeseung exhaled, his head thrown back as the girl straddled him. his back was pressed into the couch in the living room of his upscale penthouse, a body flushed against his while the two remained engulfed by midnight darkness — precisely how he liked it. in the dark, every sense felt heightened, like how her delicate fingers spread themselves over his neck, and how her mouth was so close to him that her hot breath tickled the sensitive skin below his jaw.

“scared?” heeseung echoed with a twinge of amusement, his tongue coating his lips. he held her hips while she leaned forward and peppered kisses all over his neck. “that’s cute.”

“ah, so it’s not your first time being bitten,” the girl purred. she then glazed her tongue across his neck, indulging in a preliminary taste, like an appetiser before a full-course meal. “i bet you love it then. being bitten, i mean.”

“i guess i do,” he whispered, feeling slightly impatient as he angled his head closer and allowed the sensation of his breath over her ear to make her shiver — “but i love it especially when they stop wasting my time and get to the point.”

his blunt words sliced through the atmosphere so abruptly that the girl seemed to halt in surprise. heeseung thinks it’s amusing that she reacts like this, because he knows he has a callous reputation that precedes him. is she surprised that what most people say about him is right?

he’s never been the type to dance around his words. he’s honest and forthright and as a result, doesn’t bother to hide the fact that he wants just one thing from this girl — nothing more.

“o-okay, sorry,” the girl cleared her throat and licked her lips. she inhaled deeply before opening her mouth wide enough that her fangs began to extend outward. heeseung could feel their sharp tips lightly graze his skin, which roused a flame of exhilaration within him.

he felt his heart begin to pick up and he shifts in his seat, eyes fluttering shut with furrowed brows.

a slow exhale escaped his nose.

two sharp pricks.

one.

two.

crunch.

a soft grunt leaves his lips. the instant he feels his blood surge up through his veins and out his neck, he waits for that surge of euphoria he had experienced a long time ago.

he waits and waits and waits — but nothing happens.

everything within him falls flat and all his anticipation dissipates like smoke in air.

again.

yet again, he’s disappointed.

they say the first bite for a vampire is a slippery slope, because once you have a taste for blood, the hunger becomes insatiable. ravenous. like there’s an unquenchable thirst to devour, and devour, and devour.

heeseung wonders if the same could apply to him.

is it possible for humans to become insatiable?

is it normal that every time he finds himself here, his mind always floats back to that one girl?

he hasn’t been able to rest ever since that very first bite.

in fact, he’s been relentlessly chasing that thrill — chasing her — for years.

it comes with a sigh and a sharp decline of the exhilaration in his veins that heeseung realises tonight is no exception.

tonight is just another unsatisfying bite.

even after four years, he’s still not able to replicate the sensation he had his first time.

while he knows that bite by bite he inches closer to death, he also knows nobody’s bite has ever felt quite as gratifying as yours — you, the girl of his first bite.

tonight is the nail in the coffin.

he needs to find you.

after all, your bite is the only one that’s ever made him feel alive.

your dad always instilled one lesson in you: be relentless.

“hi!” you stepped forward to a fellow college student, your hand outstretched with a flyer. “would you like the chance to win a gift card valued at twenty dollars? i’m looking for study partici—”

the student scowls instantly, openly glaring at you. “get out of the fucking way, leech.”

he shoves past your shoulder, bumping you hard enough that all the flyers in your hands fall and scatter everywhere along the concrete walkway. you stagger back, stunned by the sight of the disarrayed paper sheets on the ground.

second. that was the second time today that had happened. all your life, you’ve tried to come to terms with the fact that humans and vampires might never get along, but being treated this way certainly stung.

being relentless, as it seems, came at the cost of your dignity.

it’s been roughly two hours since you had arrived at your university’s front courtyard, sweltering under the sun in desperation of finding study participants for your course assignment.

so far — nobody.

literally not a single soul.

your genius idea was that you’d be able to take advantage of the booming foot traffic at this time in the afternoon. after all, the courtyard has always been known to be the place students pass in between classes, especially since it’s lavishly embellished with open, wide cement walkways; gorgeous topiaries and flowers; and a stunning view of the main building out front.

it’s your second year as a nursing student and, in a twist of sickening irony, this semester is all about haematology. blood. the lab project you’ve been assigned is simple: you need to gather some study participants, practise your phlebotomy skills, test their blood, and consult them for any blood-borne viruses. the only problem? it’s been about a month since you were assigned this project and you’ve been wildly unsuccessful in recruiting participants.

the reason why is so obvious that it hurts.

nobody in their right mind wants to trust a vampire with their blood.

be relentless, you echoed to yourself with another sigh, collecting the flyers off the ground.

with what little morsels of resilience you could muster, you stood back up and plastered a polite smile on your face, making quick strides to a pair of girls who were chatting under a large tree. they looked friendly, so you felt a hopeful shine to your lips as the edges tugged upwards.

“hi!” you beamed with a sunny grin, “my name is—”

“go gargle some garlic, fuck-face.” they sneered at you, slamming the flyers out of your hands.

the flyers once again spatter everywhere on the grass, on which the girls are sure to trample over as they storm off.

great.

you’re fucked.

there’s no way you’re going to be able to start this project, let alone finish it with a passing grade.

you know the optics of your situation are a little strange, but you really do care about nursing. yes, it’s ironic and ridiculous for a vampire to have anything to do with healthcare, but most things about you were a little ironic anyway.

you’re the daughter of an eminent vampire and a blood descendant of hundreds of generations — with your inauguration coming up in two months, you were going to be formally recognised as the inheritor of your father’s legacy and fortune. this was supposed to be a prerogative of being the great park kangho’s daughter, but it felt more like a ball and chain to a predetermined future you wanted no part of.

it was all sunghoon’s fault — had your estranged brother not run away from the family like a coward, you wouldn’t be in this situation. it would have been his inauguration.

you know it’s weird that you don’t want anything to do with this, but heck — you barely understood how to be a vampire in the first place. you haven’t even had your first bite yet. it’s strange and a little embarrassing that you’re the first vampire of your family lineage to be scared of biting into a human, but you couldn’t help it — the thought was terrifying and has always been ever since you were a child.

this fear dates back to when you were twelve and a rumor had lingered around your classmates before it finally reached you. apparently, there was once a vampire who bit into the wrong human and died.

it was unprecedented: vampires were always the predator and humans the prey, which explained your utter horror when the rumor turned out to be true.

and it turned out to be about your mother.

since then, you’ve lived your life scared in the shadows, puppeteered by trepidation and the looming fear that you might meet the same fate one day. as you’ve learned, being the one who bites doesn’t necessarily mean you’re the one who doesn’t get hurt.

in this world, there are fish and there are snakes — people who bite bait and find themselves reeled in, and people who bite with the intention of injecting their venom.

they both bite, but just one survives.

frankly, you didn’t want to be either. and perhaps it was these things — a college degree and your new part-time job — that would save you from having to follow your father’s footsteps.

was it so bad to want to pass this semester?

was it so bad to dream beyond the future set out for you?

you sigh with dejection, unable to withstand the way your shoulders slump.

you run your fingers through your hair, freezing when your eyes flit into the distance and something catches your eye.

lee heeseung is seated at one of the bench tables. there’s a crowd of people swarming around him — there almost always is — and he has one elbow propped up on the table, palm up with his chin rested on it. his gaze is initially trained ahead of him while he engages in a conversation with one of his friends, until suddenly — his eyes flick upward and you both lock gazes from across the courtyard.

your heart slows into a halt at the sight of his penetrating gaze, a complete coldness sweeping over your body to keep you frozen.

shit.

you quickly tear your eyes away from him, feeling your heart begin to pick up.

shit.

if there’s one person in the world your father has always warned you about, it’s lee heeseung.

campus heartthrob, lee heeseung.

son of your dad’s most loathed enemy, lee heeseung.

chaos and fire in one pretty package, lee heeseung.

undeniably, devilishly handsome lee heeseung with silver, almost lavender locks and big, brown bambi-like eyes that looked far more innocent than they actually were.

your accidental eye contact was a cruel mistake, because it has now become the catalyst that prompted him to stand and slowly make his way over to you. you felt goosebumps across your skin as you hurriedly tried to gather the flyers in your arms, hoping to make your escape before he reaches you.

after all, heeseung is, for lack of better words — a snake.

granted, you’ve only spoken to him once in your life, but the whispers of everybody around you seemed to suggest you were lucky.

as the youngest son of his already notorious family, lee heeseung has the most infamous name in your college, one which induces a mix of both intimidation and intrigue. he has one reputation, and it’s that he’s not afraid of anything: of rules, of authority, and especially not of vampires. his repertoire consists of constant partying, illicit affairs, and a penchant for breaking girls’ hearts and collecting vampires’ bites.

he turned heads in every room he walked and based on the fleeting moments you’d seen him in the flesh, had an aura that was inexplicably captivating. there was a reason why he never struggled in finding company wherever he went — most people found his confidence extremely attractive.

the worst rumor you’d heard was that he had some sort of obsession with being bitten. and that he’d dismiss people at the drop of a hat once he got what he wanted. you couldn’t think of anything worse than being involved with such a callous guy, which would explain the utter dread you felt when you saw his shadow hovering over your crouched body.

shit.

you gulp, feeling like cornered prey.

most people agree that he’s all types of bad news — that he’s a fire who easily burns anyone dumb enough to get close — yet he attracts people like moths to a flame.

a flame.

you were going to make sure you did whatever it took to not get burned.

it’s obvious you don’t remember him.

heeseung thinks it’s kind of funny, actually — because most people are so well-acquainted with his name that when they meet him for the first time, they act as though they’ve known him for years.

but you don’t seem to remember him at all.

nothing about you seems to indicate that you recall that night you two had first met, about four years ago under a willow tree on a cliff that overlooked the city.

you bit him that day.

while this is a memory vividly engraved in his mind, he thinks the fact you had fainted afterwards must be a contributing factor to your amnesia.

“a twenty-dollar gift card?” he chuckles, eyes raking over one of the flyers from the pile he helps you pick up off the ground. “sounds fun.”

when he looks up and the two of you stand facing each other properly, heeseung gets the first glimpse of the subtle scarlet glow in your eyes for the first time in years. at once, everything within him ignites like fireworks — he feels excitement expand the walls of his veins while his heart drums with an echo, especially when you stare back at him and your proximity allows your familiar scent to flood his senses.

he can’t help but lick his lips as his mind flits back to that night and the ecstasy you gave him with just one bite.

the willow tree. your hair. your hands. your fangs.

shit. you’re even cuter than you were back then.

heeseung has always had a habit of chasing pleasure.

it’s safe to say he’s decided that you’ll be his next chase.

“uh, thanks,” you whisper, watching him pick up the last of your flyers. he also notices the empty sign up sheet on the ground, so he adds that to the top of the pile before holding it out for you to take.

when you take the flyers from him, he senses your hesitation, which makes it obvious that you probably don’t have the best impression of him. it’s fine; he can easily change that. “your study sounds interesting,” heeseung flashes you the charming smile and moon-crescent eyes that most people seemed to fall for.

unfortunately, it has the opposite effect. you don’t do a great job at hiding your grimace, because it’s there in your eyes and in the way your lips slightly dip. you’re suspicious of him. he can’t blame you — after all, he just watched you get shut down and sneered at by several people for half an hour.

that, and the fact that unflattering rumors seem to follow him wherever he goes.

“not many people seem to think so,” you clear your throat, gnawing on your lips. his eyes trickle down the length of your hair as he notes all the different ways you’ve changed since you last came face to face. “but anyway, thanks again for picking up my flyers.”

“no worries,” heeseung tilts his head with a calm expression, though his lips twitch upward when he sees you tuck your lip between your teeth.

noted. you’ve done that twice now.

once is an action and twice is a habit.

“so where can i sign up?”

“oh, uh — i-i don’t think it’s really your thing,” you let out a breathy chuckle, diverting your eyes.

“how would you know what is and isn’t my thing?” he steps forward, lowering his head slightly so that you meet his gaze. he has to say that he loves the way you stare back at him — eyes widened in a mixture of surprise and wariness, and even the way you shuffle back in an attempt at creating distance.

“just an educated guess,” you gulp, hugging your flyers closer to your chest. “you don’t really seem like the type and i wouldn’t want to bore you,” your eyes narrow at him.

“you could never bore me,” heeseung counters, the edges of his lips curling into a small grin. “besides, i’m super interested in haematology.”

haematology… getting bitten by pretty girls… same thing.

he watches your brows slowly furrow. you shuffle back again and he stifles a laugh. frankly, the way you keep drawing the line between the two of you makes this interaction all the more entertaining.

you appear to contemplate your next words before staring right back up at him with a certain ferocity that makes his chest squeeze with excitement. “actually, i have enough participants already. the study’s full,” you forced a tight smile, “sorry.”

ha.

you liar.

you act as though heeseung didn’t just watch you get rejected by half the campus.

“wow, what a shame,” he shakes his head, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “i really wanted that gift card.”

“aw, that sucks! so disappointing!” you comically pout, feigning regret with a solemn shake of the head. “i guess you’re just going to have to pay like a normal person.”

“i guess so,” he chuckled, “maybe i’ll pay with this empty sign up sheet.” he leans forward and swipes the topmost piece of paper from the pile in your arms, holding it up for you to see.

your smile instantly drops. you stare at him in horror as you snatch the paper from him, scrunching it up into a ball. “th-this was a second sheet!”

heeseung can’t help that a smirk slithers to his lips because he finds this irony amusing — you seem slightly disgusted by him, but his mind runs with relentless thoughts of you like he’s a hamster on a wheel.

you don’t remember him.

perhaps he has to make you remember him.

“it’s okay,” he exhales with his nose, grinning while he looks you up and down, “it was just an excuse to talk to you anyway,” he leaned in with a playfully raised brow, “maybe even take you out on a date.”

he wants to laugh out loud when your face drops into a disgusted expression. you’re almost sneering at him with the way your lips contort into a scowl. he wasn’t serious, but he loves to watch the animation in all your reactions.

it’s entertaining.

it’s cute.

“um, no thanks,” you scoff, backing away with a few slow steps. heeseung straightens his back, watching you hold your hands up as the distance between the two of you widens within seconds.

“oh, wow, um look at the time!” you quickly check your watch and nervously chuckle. “sorry i-i gotta go! my — uh, dog just died so yeah, bye!”

heeseung attempts to withstand laughing as you twist on your heels and bolt, running as though your life depends on it. you cast just one cursory glance over your shoulder before you disappear from his sight completely, leaving behind a flyer on the ground.

it should hurt his pride that you’re the first girl to turn him down in such an abrupt manner, but he knows time is on his side.

after all, things have a way of working out for him.

he has the cheese.

he has the trap.

he just needs to wait for you to bite.

“do you want to work overtime?”

your honest answer is no.

your even more honest answer is absolutely the fuck no.

however, your lips are suddenly bobbing up and down like a marionette and you find yourself agreeing to another two hours of what you consider hell on earth.

as it appears, applying for a new job as a bartender in one of the city’s most bustling nightclubs is the latest addition to your library of horrible mistakes.

decelis is supposedly the best nightclub in the city.

objectively, you can see why it’s so popular among college students. the establishment itself boasted of three storeys plus a rooftop, with an exquisite bar on each level. the atmosphere here is undeniably electrifying, and if you weren’t so painfully sober, perhaps you’d be able to appreciate that.

ironically, clubbing has never really been your thing.

how could it, when party music is currently resounding in your ears; flashing neon lights are searing your eyes; and sweaty, gross bodies are screaming various drink orders at you from every direction imaginable?

you wouldn’t normally be caught dead in a place like this, but you were desperate for a job. it was just last week that you had waltzed into the club and slipped them your résumé. you honestly weren’t expecting to get the job, but it was an offer you couldn’t refuse when they handed it to you.

because if you wanted any chance of escaping the web in which you were entrapped, you needed to know you’d be able to fend for yourself.

but as one can imagine, bartending is fast-paced and demanding.

you thought it would be exciting to work with a backdrop of party music and led lights, but your first two shifts were dreadful. you learned over a hundred different recipes, cleaned up vomit five times, skipped your lunch break both days, and found your brain rattling in your skull to the beat of jay park’s music when you stumbled home at five am.

while your coworkers are utterly lovely and you had unbridled access to free alcohol, such things weren’t enough to offset possibly the worst part of the job — the drunk customers.

“fuck, you’re cute as hell,” the boy drunkenly exclaimed from across the bar benchtop, while you watched him struggle to keep himself erect on his feet.

“thanks. so is that cash or card?” you stared, a hand hovering over the cash register and the other cradling the eftpos machine.

“are you a vampy?” he ignored your question, his chortle punctured by a few hiccups.

you slammed your eyes shut in irritation, regretting the overtime already. the penalty rate wasn’t worth it, because if there’s one thing you detest the most, it’s being called vampy.

nevertheless, you force your lips to curl into a courteous smile, though your stare hollowed like pitless voids. “if you’re asking if i’m a vampire, then yes.”

“that’s hot,” he chuckles, slipping on his feet but managing to use the bench to catch his fall. “i mean, hella scary — but still really hot.”

“sir, for the love of god, please tell me if you’d prefer to pay with cash or card,” your jaw clenched while your resolve began to chip away.

“sir?” the boy gasped incredulously, offended by your implication. “what am i? a fifty-year-old man?”

you sure as fuck act like one. you exhaled, containing yourself. “okay, my apologies. so is it cash or card?” you grit your teeth, fantasising about climbing over the bar and strangling the life out of the guy.

“oh, just put it on the tab,” he dismisses you with a lazy wave of his hand, then snatches the glass from the bench before sculling its contents in a swift movement. “lee heeseung’s tab.”

of course.

why did you even bother to ask? more than half of the people you’ve served tonight have been stacking their orders on that guy’s tab. perhaps this is why you’ve been having such a shit shift — every second order you take is a horrible reminder of your interaction with the boy from earlier today — which, for the record — is something you desperately wish to forget.

‘maybe even take you out on a date.’

that crazy bastard.

was that supposed to be a stupid joke?

the animosity between your two families has always been obvious — and barring today, he’s never approached you and vice versa. you thought it was an unspoken mutual agreement.

sure, there have been times you’ve caught his gaze on campus or at mutual events, but that was it — today was the only time he’d gone out of his way to speak to you. this is the reason why you found it so fishy — there has to be something he wants from you, though you can’t quite put your finger on what that might be.

the only time you’d ever interacted with lee heeseung before today was a strange occurrence you recall back in high school, when you had woken in the nursing infirmary and he was sitting beside you with his head resting on your bed.

these two experiences make you feel the exact same way: like his gaze has a tendency to shoot right through you as if he could read you like an open book. you hate that. you hate his penetrating gaze and his boundless arsenal of smirks and smiles and the way he carried himself like he always had the upper hand.

whatever.

hoping to rid yourself of these thoughts, you quickly shake your head and divert your attention back to your job.

half an hour passes as you continually hustle behind the bar, attending as many orders as you can. you work as though you have four hands — sprinting around along the circular bar while people shout their orders at you.

eight tequila shots.

three vodka raspberries.

two cosmopolitans.

five apple ciders.

it isn’t too long before your coworker, yunjin, taps you on the shoulder and offers to replace you while you run off for your shift break.

you quickly thank her and rush to the other, quieter side of the bar, but in the midst of removing the apron from your uniform, you hear a voice suddenly ring.

“is the sign up sheet for a drink also full, too?”

you instantly yelp, jumping in fright from the sudden voice. you snap your head toward its direction, where heeseung is leaning over the counter, smirking at you.

what the actual hell?

you almost feel a little winded at the sight of him. frankly, it’s only been a few hours since you’d last seen him, but he looks like a completely different person when he’s all dressed up for the club.

what replaces his usually clean and casual style is something that exudes confidence and suave charisma. even you find it difficult to deny that he looks as alluring as most people claim. tonight, he’s wearing a black button up top that accentuates his wild shoulders. you notice the first few buttons are unfastened and left open to showcase his pretty neckline and the silver chain around his neck, which glints in the dim lighting. he has half of his silver hair slicked back, the other half swept forward and hanging over his forehead.

he’s gorgeous, you think, and it almost makes your blood boil.

“i only ask because the sign up sheet to stare is full,” he cracks open a smirk at your deadpanned expression. “but i guess i could make an exception for you.”

“you’re following me.”

“actually, i’m a regular here,” he smiles, nudging his chin behind you. your gaze follows his direction and you see a picture of him and his friends hanging from the wall. not exactly a flex that he’s a frequent clubgoer, but he certainly proved his point.

“fine,” you huff in concession. “good for you,” you say sarcastically, reaching down to scoop your bag up in your hands from the lower shelves just behind the counter.

“before you leave, my go-to is whiskey on the rocks,” he smiles, propping his elbow up so that his cheek can rest on his palm. “i don’t think the owners would be very happy to see a regular leave… unsatisfied.”

you pressed your lips together, turning your head over your shoulder to see poor yunjin struggling to keep herself afloat, inundated with orders. you sigh, begrudgingly placing your bag back down so that you could pour him a glass.

“look,” you yank the most expensive whiskey bottle from the shelf and pour it into a glass, hoping the total price of his bar tab knocks his ego down a peg or two. as you place a few ice cubes in it and slide it over to him, you pin him down with a dark glare and an ugly frown. “i don’t know what the hell it is you want from me, but i’m not buying your act.”

“what act?” he smirked in amusement, taking a sip of the drink you handed him.

“the whole i’m interested in haematology act,” you scoff, too exhausted from your shift to tip-toe around the topic. “look, i’m not interested, okay?” you run your hand through your hair and sigh loudly. “i’m sure you’re a nice guy,” you almost gag on air when you say this, “but you’re just not my type.”

“then what’s your type?”

“i don’t know; guys that don’t creep me out?” you hiss, frankly surprised by your own hostility. you hadn’t planned to be so forthright with your words, but frankly, you were too exhausted to care. heeseung doesn’t creep you out per se — but you knew guys like him only have selfish intentions.

they needed to fought with fire.

heeseung doesn’t say anything when you throw your bag over your shoulder and stamp away from the bar, and you don’t even bother to cast him a final glance.

however, you’re only able to make it halfway to the exit before you realise you had left your phone behind.

crap.

there’s a moment of hesitation before you decide to go back, because there’s nothing more embarrassing than having to backtrack a dramatic exit.

nevertheless, you begrudgingly twist on your heels and make the shameful journey back, noticing as you near the bar that heeseung is no longer where he had been sitting earlier. the glass you’d poured for him still remains on the counter, but in a matter of seconds, you suddenly see a girl slide into his old seat.

huh.

circumventing the crowd in the middle, you find your way back to the bar and retrieve your phone. as the design of the circular bar allows you to conceal yourself behind the middle pillar, she doesn’t seem to notice you as you watch her through a blind spot mirror on the roof.

you don’t understand the compulsion within yourself, but you allow yourself a minute or two to observe her.

you stare at her big eyes, her medium cut layered hair and the blunt bangs across her face. she looks familiar, you think to yourself, halting once you see her glance over her own shoulders suspiciously.

you watch carefully as she does one last eye sweep of her surroundings before retrieving a small paper packet from her handbag.

what the heck is she doing?

you stare with a confused frown, eyes slowly widening as you watch her rip the packet open and pour its contents into heeseung’s drink.

she then dips her finger into the glass and swirls it around.

and just like that, the powder dissolves colourlessly and it almost appears as though heeseung’s drink has been untouched.

your heart shoots down your feet when you realise what she’s done.

she’s spiked his drink.

the adrenaline allows you to cast everything aside — your long-awaited break, your animosity with heeseung, and even your bag.

because within milliseconds, the girl springs to her feet and re-enters the dancing floor while you struggle to tail her, losing her amidst the sea of bodies.

fuck!

fuck. fuck. fuck.

you quickly exit the bar and follow her steps the best you can, though it’s difficult when the lights are low enough that everybody blends into a vague swarm of heads and bodies. she has dark hair, but so do half the people here. her frame and height are small, which makes it all the more difficult to locate her. every time you think you recognise her, you realise you’d been pursuing the wrong culprit.

everybody in the crowd is shoving you in all different directions.

she’s nowhere to be found.

and you can’t seem to find heeseung, either.

shit.

when you feel yourself enter a swivet of panic, you tell yourself to do the most rational thing — grab your phone and call for help. unfortunately, the sheer volume of club music resounding around you makes it difficult for yunjin to hear you on the other side of the call.

thus, you force your way to the outskirts of the club where your voice is more audible, but it’s only here that you finally look up and spot heeseung climbing the stairs to the second storey.

there he is!

you immediately hang up on the call and thrust your way through people in the direction of the stairs, eyes widening with alarm when you see the girl trail behind heeseung, the drink in her hand. the pair eventually reach the height of the stairs and the second storey, prompting you to yell out his name as loud as you can.

“lee heeseung!” you call, but in a similar fashion to your phone call — the music drowns out your voice. you scramble now, sprinting your way up the stairs while screaming his name loud enough that he finally stops in his tracks.

“heeseung!” you pant for a breath, settling your feet on the second level while you leaned forward over your knees. “w-wait—”

“who are you?” the girl asks, so you snap your head up and sneer at her.

you stomp over toward her and attempt to grab the glass from her, but unfortunately her grip is equally as strong.

for a few seconds, the two of you engage in a tug of war.

“wh-what the heck?” the girl shrieks loudly, “what the fuck are you—”

you’re both struggling for the glass, pulling it in your own directions.

it isn’t until you tug a little too hard that her grip suddenly loosens.

the cup flies in your direction and tilts toward you an—

splash!

you freeze, gasping at the sensation of cold liquid running down your chest.

no no no no no no no no—

you look down at your uniform and wince at the sight.

fuck.

liquid is trickling down your chest and legs and pooling at the bottom of your shoes.

fucking fantastic.

you throw your head back and sigh loudly, shutting your eyes in frustration before slamming them back open.

“i quit. i officially quit,” you mutter aloud, scoffing in disbelief to yourself. with the glass in one hand, you use your free hand to fruitlessly swipe at your uniform in order to flick off whatever remnants you can, though unfortunately the liquid has already saturated your clothes.

passerbys murmur and gawk at the sight of you, causing immense heat to flood your face and ears while you lower your head in humiliation. this is so embarrassing, you think to yourself, desperately wishing to remove yourself from the scene.

while you turn around to leave, you suddenly halt in your tracks and find yourself committing to one more stupid idea.

you storm over toward the pair and grab heeseung’s wrist, yanking him with you as you stomp your way to the backrooms.

“i saw her spike your drink,” is the first thing you say when you shut the door behind yourself, and the two of you find yourselves inside one of the empty vip rooms.

you’re encased by four padded walls in a dimly lit room, on which colourful flashes of light dance and flicker all thanks to the led projector on the ceiling.

there’s an entertainment centre and a tv screen on one end of the spacious room, while a circular table and a couch that perfectly circles around its perimeter is on the other side. you storm over and slam the glass down on the table, harshly throwing your bottom onto the couch while you knot your arms across your chest.

“she poured something in that,” you point to the remaining drink in the glass, glaring up at him, “i saw her.”

heeseung is silent for a moment while he watches you. he briefly tears his gaze from yours to observe his surroundings before facing you again, both brows raised slightly. “wow, you smell great.”

his eyes flicker to your soaked shirt. “but you look better than you smell.”

“you—” you scoff, slamming your hand down on the table in frustration. “you ungrateful piece of shit!”

he immediately stifles a laugh, biting his bottom lip to refrain his grin from growing any wider. “i-i’m sorry?”

“i was trying to help you!” you exclaim incredulously, springing to your feet as you furiously storm over to him. “did you not hear what i just said? i said she spiked your drink! do you not understand what that means? for all you know, you could have been poisoned! i was trying to save you!”

momentary silence engulfs the two of you after your outburst. the silence is sobering, if you’re going to be honest. after all, you feel immediate regret trickle in, but before you can backtrack, heeseung tilts his head and watches you with a calm gaze.

“save?” he echoed while a smirk slithered to his lips, and another important realisation strikes you like a rock to the head.

perhaps you should have just let him die.

“now look at me,” you throw your hands in the air, scoffing again in disbelief. “i’m drenched in whiskey, god—” you openly gag, “this is disgusting! the least you can say is thank you.”

“you want me to thank you?” he raised a brow.

“well, you could have died; i practically saved your life,” perhaps this was a hyperbole, but you were feeling petty — he didn’t look as shaken up as you did. frankly, you were beginning to think you cared more about his safety than he did.

“see, you’re mistaken,” heeseung took a step toward you, causing you to step back. he kept advancing toward you, closing the distance, until you felt your back softly hit one of the walls.

shit.

having heeseung in such an uncomfortable proximity made you want to shrink into a ball.

“wh-what?”

“i said, you’re mistaken,” you saw his eyes glint with amusement as he placed an arm against the wall beside your head, using it as an anchor while he leaned in closer, your faces now inches apart. you gulp, warmth crawling up your neck and into your cheeks from the sheer proximity and sensation of his hot breath grazing your face.

“i think it’s cute that you’re worried about me,” you watched as the edges of his lips curled before his eyes landed below your nose. you froze when his fingers were on your chin, lightly gripping it so that he could get a better view of your lips. “but like i said, i don’t need saving.”

“you’re right,” you smiled sarcastically, slapping his fingers away from your chin, “maybe i should have just let her poison you. or sedate you and sell your organs to the black market. do you have a preference for how you’d like to die?”

“don’t worry,” he whispered to you, voice so low and ghostly quiet you thought you could feel it sweep right through you. “i already know how and when i’m going to die, so don’t bother trying to save me.”

his words struck you.

you frowned in confusion, unable to decipher the cryptic meaning behind them.

heeseung smiled at your reaction, leaning into your ear so that his warm voice sunk into your ears like honey. “in fact, do something else for me instead.”

you froze, eyes flickering to the bare skin of his neck, on which you see old scar marks that appear like vampire bites.

you quickly place a hand on his chest to push him away, but this contact only seemed to encourage him — instead, he gently grabbed your hand and wrapped it around his waist.

“bite me,” he whispers alluringly, “i bet you want blood more than anyone else.”

your face dropped as his scent overwhelmed your senses.

something musky. woody. a hint of floral.

and a hint of blood.

you felt your eyes drop and your stomach churn, because for the first time, you feel something within you — a gnawing sensation.

an ache. an itch. an urge.

a hunger, even.

“w-wait…” you blurted, feeling a little lightheaded while your heart left a hammering echo inside your chest. you swallowed and swallowed but your mouth felt drier than ever.

“if you’re going to save me,” he exhaled. “then just bite me, fangs,” heeseung lured you in with a soft voice.

he then leaned in close enough that his breath tickled the sensitive skin of your ear.

“just like last time.”

A/N. well that escalated quickly 🤠 n e ways I literally had so much fun writing this chapter (sorry i cbfd proof reading lel) bc this is my first vampire au. also my first playboy au so BE NICE PLS DONT TEAR ME TO SHREDS LMFAOOO 😭 anyway words cannot even describe how excited I am for this fic - I've been craving the thought of writing smh a lil more actiony/thrilling than my usual romcom repertoire SO. I hope u r strapping urself in for a riiiiiiide >:) anyways aaaa tysm for reading && I hope u guys enjoyed the first chap!! sorry for all the long text but i promise the groundwork is necessary for the future shitshow in upcoming chapters SO. 🫡

likes, rbs & feedback are always appreciated! :) ╰ ✩ ┈ masterlist // next chapter .

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cautuscoralcoast · 4 months

Text

Pluton — 8 You, Me, the Stars, and Pluton

Portgas D. Ace x reader

Synopsis - In which the two of you meet each other again.

Tw. Spoilers for marineford/impel down, major character death, mention of suicide, themes of reincarnation, this is more Ace centered.

It was as if his life flashed before his eyes.

You were gone when he woke up.

The coat you kept folded in your bag was gone.

Ace was alone.

He desperately searched everywhere, trying to find you. Panic and anxiety filled his core as the minutes passed by, and he still couldn't find you.

What if something happened to you? What if you were taken by slave traders? Captured by Marines? Anything could have happened. He shouldn't have slept last night. He should've stayed close by your side, making sure you were safe.

When he searched the port, he saw something in the distance; floating in the water, he caught a glimpse of color, the color same as your coat.

He furrowed his brows as his breath hitched when he saw it. He got his ship and sailed out. His mind went blank as he got closer and closer.

For the first time in years, he wanted to die.

Drifting all alone in the sea was your coat all torn up; and you were nowhere in sight.

It was an agonizing feeling. You were in his grasp, keeping you safe and warm, and then, suddenly, you were gone.

Ace wanted to drown.

He wanted to jump into he water to find you. He wanted to storm Saboady, trying to find the one who did this.

At the same time, he thought, "What if you left to get away from him?"

He held the torn coat to his face as he cried.

Ace wanted to suffocate.

He knew your heart. He may not have known you for long, but he knew your heart well. He knew what made you angry; what made you lift the corner of your lips; what makes you jump in worry; what makes you happy as well as what makes you cry — and he knew you would never leave to hurt him.

He hated that he even thought of it.

When Ace returned back to the archipelago, he felt drained. He held the coat tight, refusing to allow it to slip from his grasp.

He thought back to the day before. "Marines": You mentioned being followed by Marines, and he promised that he wouldn't let them hurt you.

He promised.

And he couldn't fulfill that promise.

He didn't even know if you died at the hands of the marine after you or if you were captured. He didn't even know where he would look at Saboady Archipelago if you were even alive. He just didn't know what to do.

Ace didn't want to lose you, too, but he knew it was already too late.

And he knew it for sure when he aimlessly wandered deep into the untamed parts of the archipelago. There, out of nowhere, were thousands and thousands of buttercups. They shouldn't be able to grow here: Not on bubbles, nor on trees, not hidden away from the sun.

He didn't need to see a corpse. He didn't need to see your head in a crown, nor did he need to see your blood to know.

He just did.

Ace felt a sense of devastation when he walked through the yellow field. He knew the likely reason for your death — marines. He knew you should feel anger towards whoever did this, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. It was far too painful to even hate anything.

Ace wanted to die.

He wanted to die when he realized the pain his fathers existence caused everyone. He wanted to die when the world was against him. He wanted to die when his beloved brother perished in flames. He wanted to die when he put his crew in danger. He wanted to die so many times in his life, and Ace wants to die now as well.

But, he also cried a lot.

He cried when his brothers accepted him. He wanted to cry when Luffy said he wanted him alive. He cried when he accepted Whitebeard as his father. He cried when Tate scolded him harshly for hurting himself. He cried when he saw you do so.

And he also laughed a lot.

He laughed with his brothers doing the most childish things. He laughed when he and Luffy messed with Dadan's hair. He laughed and smiled as he said goodbye as he began his adventure. He laughed with Deuce when they left that island. He laughed when he made the spade pirates official. He laughed when they celebrated when he became one of Whitebeard's sons. He laughed whenever they would have parties. He laughed with his family, with his friends and enemies.

Ace couldn't help but chuckle when you got mad at him for calling Pluton "some ship." He couldn't help but grin whenever he saw you confused at the random nicknames he'd call you. He laughed so hard when he woke up after falling asleep in the middle of a conversation with you. He felt at ease and safe when watching the stars on the deck of the ship. And he felt the happiest when you finally accepted his hugs.

He looked at the torn coat.

"Ace?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you... love someone?"

"Love as in 'will you be mine' or as 'I love you like a brother?' "

"Any type of love."

"Well.... I can for sure say that I love my younger brother, definitely pops, and the rest of the crew, but I can't say I really loved 'loved' anyone."

" 'loved anyone' ? But you said that you love your brother and the others? Didn't you?"

"I love them all that I'll die for them if I have to — but I never met anyone who I can really connect to; like to love so much that can't bear being apart from, ya' know?"

He really couldn't bear being away from you.

Ace never fell in love before. Not in the romantic sense, nor has he ever even considered the prospect of commitment. When he first met you, he never once thought he'd ever end up loving you to the brink of insanity — cause that's how it felt, absolute insanity.

And now that you were gone, it was painful. Just as when he lost Sabo, he doesn't know how he'll live with this pain.

Ace dropped down to his knees and grasped at the buttercups. The sun illuminated through the dense foliage, and the buttercups shined as if stars. He laid down on his back, holding the coat close to his chest. Looking up through the glare of the sun, he saw the clear blue sky.

He closed his eyes.

He just wanted to see Luffy again.

He just wanted to sleep for a very long time.

He didn't want to wake up.

✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾

"Why Buttercup?"

"Cause you're short and cute like one."

"And why Shooting Star?"

"....what do we do half the time?"

"Watch stars?"

"Aren't you smart!"

✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾

He had a dream where the two of you were friends.

When Ace returned back to the Moby Dick it was already night out. Tate was outside smoking when she saw Ace in the distance. Excitedly, she ran to the kitchen to get Thatch; she knew he would be happy to see you both. It's not like anyone else was awake.

"Aye! Thatch! The kids are here!"

"Tate! I'm cook—" he couldn't even finish his sentence as Tate pulled him outside.

As the two watched the ship sail closer and closer, they realized something. Ace was alone. Tate looked around the ship. Trying to find your figure sleeping on the floor of the ship or at the edge, but she didn't see you.

Both she and Thatch looked at each other without muttering a word. When Ace finally reached the ship, Thatch helped him pull the ship up.

"Where's the girl? Did she find her ship—"

"Tate," Thatch firmly placed a hand on her shoulders, "he's not fine."

Tate stopped talking when she saw Ace tearing up.

"Ace? Are you alright?"

She ran up to him just as she saw the coat in his hand. Torn and bloodied, the same coat that belonged to her assistant whom she saw as a younger sibling — it was yours.

"Come here—" Tate pulled Ace into her arms as he cried. "—I got you, I got you."

Thatch walked over and hugged Ace as well. "It'll be just fine — just breathe, alright?"

✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾

"Ace?"

"Just hold my hand and breathe, okay?"

"What is this supposed to do?"

"Just do it!"

"Alright!"

✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾

Ace wanted to die.

That was a fact he knew was true.

He hated himself.

It took him weeks after your death for him to cope with the fact that you were truly gone: That you weren't ever coming back.

He wasn't sure if he could ever handle another heartbreak after Sabo's death, and yet here he is — alive.

Ace was Alive.

Tate made sure to visit him often when not tending to Whitebeard. She would make sure he took care of himself. She often told him stories about you: Stories he never heard about. How you often fought with Mili with how the latter often complimented him in rather "flavorful" words to fluster you — or when Thatch would try to teach you to cook.

"Eye it, he said! Just a handful! I have smaller hands! How was I supposed to know he meant 1 and 1/7 of a cup?! He doesn't even measure things Mrs. Tate!"

The way Tate told him these stories made him briefly forget that you were gone. She spoke in a way as if these things happened yesterday and weeks ago.

It was nice.

"You know Ace, these last four months, whenever anyone would talk about you, she would always have this smile on her face. And the number of times I'd be working late and hear two little voices on deck is just wow!"

"Ace, you make her smile a whole lot."

✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾

"Hey, buttercup?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you enjoy going out with me?"

"If I didn't, I wouldn't have left half of my belongings in your room."

"What about my brothers? They don't bother you too much now, do they?"

"If they bothered me, I wouldn't spend the weekends cleaning the house."

"....fair point."

✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾

It wasn't easy trying to move on.

Ace had spent nearly all his free time with you around or watching you work with Tate. He already adjusted with having you in his life. He woke up with the expectation of seeing you in the mornings. He went out at night with the expectation of watching the stars with you.

The recent nights without you were especially difficult. It's been so long since you two watched the stars and moon illuminate the dark sea. It hurt the most when he would get up and go out to find no one on deck — just him and the stars.

Ace had never thought he would feel this loneliness again.

Before he met Sabo, he was alone. There was no place for him to call home, no one to call family.

For the longest time it was just him, Sabo, and Dadan. Then came Luffy, and it was the four of them: Three brothers and their mother figure.

His beloved brothers loved him despite his heritage, and Dadan cared for him to the best of her ability. They weren't perfect; none of them were. He was too violent, Sabo was outlandish, Luffy was irrational, and Dadan never expected that she would raise kids at all. They were a family of misfits, and that was what made that family perfect.

Ace was sure they would love you; and he was eighty-seven percent sure you wouldn't pass out from just how loud they all were.

And though he feels lonely now, the buttercups he finds every day around the ship and on land growing under the sunlight make things so much more bearable.

✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾

"Ace?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think we would have been friends if we had met each other just today?"

"Of course we would."

"What makes you say that?"

"I just have a feeling we would be together even if we wouldn't meet for like another hundred years."

"That's awfully romantic coming from you."

"Hey! It was you who was all philosophical all of a sudden!"

✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾

Ace was alive, and he didn't want to die.

Not when Thatch murdered by someone in his own division.

"I don't feel so good about this, something's off."

"I have to go. It's my responsibility to deal with Teach!"

"Ace—"

Not when he promised Tate that he'll be fine.

"Maybe you should listen to Whitebeard. It's not every day he makes an exception for this."

"Tate, I'll be fine."

Not now that he saw his younger brother after years of being separated. Not after meeting his crew and how well they get along.

"Thank you for taking care of my little brother. Hope he wasn't too difficult to deal with."

"Not at all."

Not while the buttercups still bloom in the most barren deserts of Arabasta.

He once promised you that he'd protect you, and he broke it.

And so, under the witness of the desert stars, Ace makes another promise—

"I promise that I'll see you again one day. So please wait for me even if it takes an eternity."

✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾

"Buttercup?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you a whole lot. Like so much I wanna eat you."

"I love you too."

"Yeah, but how much?"

"Well, let's see....I love you so much, i'm willing to do anything to see you smile—In fact, I dare say I'd even sacrifice the world just to make you happy."

"And she says I'm romantical."

✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾

Ace loves his family, and that includes Luffy.

So imagine what he felt when Blackbeard said he would kill his brother?

And who knew he could nullify devil fruits?

Even as he sat chained up on the sixth floor of Impel, he did not regret fighting Blackbeard. It was his own choices that brought him here. He knew the risks that involved going after Teach without any help could cause. He knew he could very well lose his life, just not like this.

The panic and fear he felt when the pirate empress said his brother was at Impel was heavy.

Of course, that idiot brother of his would try this. He wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation, but he couldn't. It was Impel Down that Luffy was entering. He saw the guards, one wrong move Luffy would perish, and Ace couldn't do a single thing if something were to happen.

He wished for more than anything that Luffy's love for him wasn't strong enough that he was willing to die to save him, but he knew that would never come true — not near, not far, not ever.

"Listen up, Luffy! Promise me we'll live a life without regrets!"

He really wished he listened to his own promise. It's as if his life is filled with nothing but regrets

"Let's set out to sea and live life with more freedom than anyone else!"

As he walked up from the underground prison, he couldn't help but breathe in the air from outside. As the guards said, this would probably be the last time he would see the sun.

Restrained by the sea, he was brought to his demise. Watched by an army of marines and seen by thousands of civilians: He was going to due.

Minutes went by, and they all waited for the arrival of the Whitebeard pirates. It was inevitable arrival — everyone knew that Captain Newgate would risk his life if it meant saving one of his sons.

And just as Ace feared, he arrived, and the summit war began.

He watched in horror as he saw his brother arrive. He watched as his father was killed. He saw his his grandfather do nothing but watch his two grandsons being harmed by the organization he believed in.

Ace never brought harm to the regular citizen. He never wished to hurt nor slaughter the people sworn under the world government. He did nothing but be born.

"HIS FATHER GOL D. ROGER!"

Simply being bound by blood made him a sinner.

May he be damned to hell, but he wished for more than anything to not drag those he loved down with him.

But his father still died.

And that admiral tried to murder his brother right in front of his eyes.

He wasn't going to let anyone else die for him again, let alone his brother.

"Thank you for loving me!"

He wonders how his mother felt before she died. Was she happy to know that her son would live to see the sun rise and set?

He would sometimes watch the stars and wonder how you died and why. Was it for the same reason he died for his brother?

No one ever wanted him — the world wanted him dead. There was no place for him in this world. By being born as the son of the pirate king, he was a threat to the world government. A child with no family of flesh or blood to call his own was a threat to the world government?

He wished he had died long ago.

And yet, as he clung to his idiot younger brother, he wanted nothing but to keep on living.

He wanted to see tomorrow.

He wanted to be happy.

He wanted to know your name.

✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾

There was once a ship that desired to see.

There was once a ship that wanted to hear.

There was once a ship that yearned to sing.

There was once a ship that longed to feel.

There was once a warship named Pluton that wished to be human.

Pluton wanted to be happy.

✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾

You sat on the swing as your mother talked to a friend of hers — a blonde lady with a boy by her side.

You sat there idly as you waited for her to finish talking.

"—go introduce yourself."

You were dozing off as the cicadas sung.

You faintly heard footsteps coming towards you and you were startled awake.

"My name's Ace! What's yours?"

"My name?"

"What else?"

"I—I....My name is –—"

You had a dream; a dream in which the two of you were pirates.

✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾❊❃✾

Thank you for reading!

#pluton #one piece #portgas d ace #one piece x reader #portgas ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #character analysis

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yanaleese · 4 months

Text

Karma Sangre - Insane NSFW

This is Part 2 of Karma's NSFW!

To see Karma's Normal NSFW, click here!

Content warning: MALE reader, HARD explicit smut, detailed and gorey kinks, BDSM, and general Yandere material. Please note that this is for 17+ audiences only.

Congratulations, [Y/N]! You have officially fucked up any chance of having a normal relationship with Karma! I hope you're happy <3. Now you may be wondering how the f u c k you even got here in the first place. Well, to start off: Karma gave you many, many chances to prove him wrong. To show him that you were capable of change, or to act like a dumb, naïve bitch. Unfortunately, you decided to be greedy and risk it all. And you did so...terribly! Thus in present time, all you can do is watch as your once beloved, docile partner transforms into your worse nightmare incarnate, with demons haunting you to spare. From the never-ending silence, to the deep-shade of darkness that enveloped you both, Karma was making it very clear. That nobody, including your own Prince Charming, was not going to save you from the bloodthirsty monster called your boyfriend. Or... ...was, your boyfriend."La hemos cagado, ¿verdad, Mami?" Karma's sickening, husky voice chuckled with excitement as he flipped the switch, revealing your untouched, bare body. Embarrassed, you hid what little of your crotch you could. But thanks to the iron chains gripping your hands and feet, you had little to no chance of concealing yourself, moreso escape from him. "¿O debería decir...mi chucho bayunco?~" He slurred, ending his words with a slow, yet eerie whisper. Your once uneasy thoughts amplified into a thousand worries, each anxiety impelling fear and adrenaline to rack your body. Your first instinct was to scream, to beg, to shout, to- "Nu-uh-uh~" Karma covered your mouth, grinning as a sharp dagger sunk deep into your shoulder blade; the blow was quick, and his cut was flawless, clean. "Don't play victim on me." You howled, closing your eyelids shut as the knife passed through veins and muscles. One tear, then another fell on the cement ground, the pain causing you to drool and scream at this thing in front of you. But suddenly, you froze as you finally caught a glimpse of his eyes. And boy, do you regret it. Staring back at you, was two irises coated in full darkness. His pupil was abnormally dilated, the corners of his eyes dotted with pulsing veins. Not a single strand of light in the room passed through it, except the murky vision of you. Your horrified form. Your trembling hands. Your bleeding lips. Your pounding heart.

y̯̤͑́́̓́ ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚ û̶͙̽̿͆̈ r̶̷̲͍̭͐̾̀͟ h̶̯̰̝̻̿̓͢ ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ ă̶̸̝ͦ͊̿͋͞ r̶̷̲͍̭͐̾̀͟ t̴͕͖͓̀ ?

Catching your gaze, he harshly grabbed your chin, his irises splitting into honeycombs. It alarmed you, how such a disgusting man lured you into his sickly, sticky web. "Chucho, escúchame." "No, no, no! Karma!" Whatever he was doing, he was invading your mind, your inner thoughts; it must've been the look. "Please...let me go! Karma! Please! Please just stop!" As you struggled, he continued to lick his steaming hot tongue over and over your Adam's apple, causing you to shudder in pure fear. His once welcomed touch now felt invasive and unwanted, as if he was infected with a contagious disease. And yet, he loved that. He loved watching you squirm underneath him. Ah, he could get used to this. "You will never, EVER do that again." His fangs sank deep into your shoulder blade, while his fingers curled and churned into your open wound. "You hear me?" You bobbed your head a million times. All you could do was stare at the ground, your tears forming into a fresh puddle, cruelly reflecting the new you. The broken you. "Yes! Yes! I'm sorry!" You just wanted him to stop. To stop touching you like that. "Forgive me, Karma!" The pain. You were in so much pain. "F...forgive me..." After a few moments, he released his grip on your shoulders, caressing the top of your head with his bloody fingers. Pleased with your silence, he chuckled before planting a loving kiss on top of your forehead. "Good."

INSANE HEADCANNONS:

When it comes to having sex, you have absolutely no say in what you want or how you want it with Karma. Your only job is to get your cock and your ass aroused and fucked like the bitchy cumslut you are. Good luck in trying to reverse the damage, folks!

Unlike past sexual escapades, Karma is NOT the type to take up a challenge, nor deal with a talking match. You better learn when no means NO, and yes means YES. Otherwise, he'll do the favor and cut your fucking tongue out, along with some sloppy knife cuts in your mouth here and there.

If there is one thing that remains in this toxic relationship, is the way he worships and caresses your body. But instead of playing nice, he'll devour layers and layers of your skin until he sees bone. And if you're complaining, he'll happily do the favor of pouring bottles of rubbing alcohol all over your wounds! Happy?

In terms of arousal, he doesn't care if you're ready. You're ready when he wants you to be ready. But if he's in the mood, he'll occasionally suck your cock and finger your bussy for fun. If not, mentally prepare yourself for a long night of physical torture...starting with your back.

To him, your back is the perfect canvas for displaying ownership. So first, he'll take his sweet time smacking and groping your ass cheeks. Then, he'll begin whipping your body into good shape, making sure it's nice and deep, so that way, if you somehow manage to escape - you'll remember how much he really loves you ♥️.

Next, he'll do the regular routine in healing your injuries...by dousing it in acid! You see, you have to understand. He can't afford the normal alcohol to lose his progress. Besides, it's quite unfair considering how much blood, sweat, and tears you guys went through! 😄

To top it all of, he'll use a piping hot branding iron that he customized just for you! It took him some serious bucks and backdoors to finally obtain it, but it's worth the price especially when he sees your sobbing, wheezing face screaming from the pain!

Ah yes, one of his favorite parts to see - your face. Before, he wasn't able to withstand your tears and your distress. However, thanks to the change in circumstances, he considers your wallowing as the most arousing, pleasurable thing about you. Especially when you look upon him in fear.

However if you still have some fight left in you, don't worry! He knows how to break that attitude out of you. All he has to do is to use your worst phobia to the extremes and consider the job done!

So now, that you're all pretty and docile, he'll finally give you the independence you wanted...by making sure he cleanly breaks every single bone in your body. After that, you're free to be in a wheelchair for his personal comfort.

"Es increíble lo frágil que es el cuerpo humano, ¿no, chucho?" Oh, you hated that name. Chucho. Ever since your relationship twisted into this sadistic mental game, he no longer calls you Mami. It's not as if you wanted to hear that anymore, anyways.

Tilting his head cutely, Karma continued staring at the mirror, his eyes landing on your scarred hands. He kissed it gently, which was a mercy - compared to him biting on your knuckles prior. Terrified of upsetting him, you drifted your eye contact to the polished wooden floor, begging yourself not to glare.

"Ha, [Y/N]..." Hearing your name on his lips made you shudder. "I just can't wait to show you my wonderful family back home."

What?

"Don't worry, Chucho." He paused on the last finger, before giving it one final kiss. "I'm sure, eventually...that you'll enjoy their company just as much as I did."

Staring at the floor, you remained silent, not bothering to give him an answer.

It's not like you had the choice, anyways.

To learn more about Karma, go here!

If you want to see more Karma content, head over to my inbox!

Thank goodness I finished this omfg srsly...

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ofallthingsnasty · 5 months

Note

After the events of Alabasta and Crocodile’s basement wife is left all by herself. Maybe know what knows about you whereabouts and you have to break out on your own, but the best case scenario is that the marines find you.

With Crocodile in Impel Down you’re able to slowly regain your freedom and humanity. It’s a difficult process but you’re able to get your life back together…

…Unnnnnntill Crocodile is freed from Impel Down and his first order of business is looking for his basement wife

Knowing the marine they probably ship you off to Impel Down as well because they'll frame you as a co-conspirator gdhjsa

You know, that makes me think of that SBS question Oda got in regards to Crocodile immediately donning fancy clothes after getting out of his cell, I think I posted about it here (x) Cigar? Check. Gaudy shirt and vest combo? Check. Fur coat? Yes, all there. Now where is my wet rag of a wife, I need her to complete the outfit... And really, you can SEE it in his face during the Marineford arc. That man doesn't want to be there, he wants to go home. Just look:

That pouty little face... Someone get him his soggy little chew toy or else...

All jokes aside, how much time passes between Alabasta and Marineford? A couple of weeks at best? I don't think the Marine will just let you wander freely, I think they'd keep you for some valuable intel at the very least (and if not for that, then to keep things under wraps). You poor thing, you've barely learned to tolerate strange men ducking into your room without flinching, have barely started to sleep again until the sailors around you are suddenly bustling about, preparing for something big - the Summit War comes and goes and to your horror, the very man you have just been freed from is at large again. Oh, you know he's coming. The people around you know it, too. Cry if you have to, it's not gonna keep him away. No matter how much seastone they put on the doors, windows, walls, no matter how many people keep an eye on you - it's just a matter of time until you wake up to that familiar feeling of sharp metal right underneath your chin, to that smell of cigar smoke you've come to loathe so much. He'll be above you, clicking his tongue in the dark while he tries to get a look at you. Did they change your hair?, he'll ask instead of greeting you and you can tell that the thought makes him seethe. To think that one of these incompetent little fools had the brilliant idea to try to make you a little less recognizable in case you could slip away... Laughable and infuriating at the same time. But it's alright, he's here and he'll never let you go again (but you already know that, he sees it in the way you shake and pout - to think he ever found that annoying, now it's a sight for sore eyes). He'll start something new, he's crafty like that. And you'll never want for anything.

#i just love the thought of that man with a poor little meow meow wifey who gets on his very last nerve but who he also can't live without #not to mention that it's his fucking fault you're so miserable lmao #yandere one piece #/one piece #/crocodile

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n-s4kayaky · 4 months

Text

𝔹𝕖𝕥𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖 𝕨𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕟

Pt.2

warnings: This story is about the Cross Guild in a female version, so clearly the relationships were about Female x Female since Reader was about a woman. Sexual tension, aggression, humiliation, power dynamics

a/n:SOOOOO, I really wanted to do this, it landed in my head one day and since then I haven't been able to get the idea out of my head. I think it will be three, four chapters in which you end up in bed with these women, this story is pure indulgence so enjoy

For many years now, of which you have been working for Mrs. Crocodile, you went to her in search of a simple job in her great casino and in the blink of an eye you ended up being her right hand and let's say something else. You were always by her side, preparing the paperwork, calling the subordinates of the Baroque Works, giving her the fibers of how much money she had raised in her casino and helping her with what she asked of you… We do know what it means. You were faithful to her and I reward you in many ways, if it was true that sometimes that great woman was scary and that never disappeared in you even as the years passed. After the attempt to conquer Arabasta failed miserably due to the straw hats, you remained there, working for her while she was taken to Impel Down. It was a somewhat sad and hard few months without the accompaniment of your mistress; But you were able to keep going while you ran their business. The day she appeared at the door after such a long time you screamed with excitement and spent most of the day glued to her repeating how much you had missed her while her big hand caressed your head cooing to you, that night was quite long and satisfying for both of you

Several weeks after his return, you gave a piece of news which left you a little perplexed. It seemed that he had made an alliance with one of the new Yonkos; Buggy The Clown, and the greatest swordswoman in all of the All Blue; Dracule Mihawk. As it was obvious that you knew who those women were and you were not going to question your wife about her decisions, although it still seemed strange to you that she made an alliance, she liked to be the one in charge of everything. Shortly after the news, a boat was prepared in which you and your wife were to go to the meeting area with the two women. Your eyes widened when you saw that the meeting area was a big circus tent, you thought it would be somewhere more professional but you didn't question your lady again. As you enter the tent you are dressed in circus clothes, a girl in what looked like she was wearing a fur coat accompanied by a hat with bear's ears came up to you, asking Mrs. Crocodile to please follow her to where her captain and the swordswoman were.

You went up some stairs and went down a long corridor, always close to your mistress while you recognized the surroundings, you came to a large door quite striking to say the least, the purple wood hurt your eyes and the gold details were quite visible. The girl in the bear hat opened the door for you and you could see inside. A large hall, filled with fabrics of all colors that hung on the walls along with gold ornaments that hung along with the fabrics, a large carpet, and above this an acacia table on which was placed a silver tray with a bottle of wine and a half-drunk cup. A small bowl of fruit accompanied it, in front of the table was a large green armchair with cushions of a darker color and seated in this armchair were the other two women. A la derecha se encontraba Dracule Mihawk, The woman was sitting in the armchair gracefully, occasionally drinking from the glass of wine that was on the table, her jet-black hair was combed behind her hat, her eyes were closed and she was concentrating on the wine she was drinking, one of her legs rested on top of the other as it bounced. Seeing her beautiful heeled toe leather boots, her characteristic coat was open and left a beautiful scarlet corset with silver details on display and of course her great sword Yoru rested behind her. Next to her was Buggy, the girl was trying to get the attention of the other woman out of boredom and when she saw that she didn't pay any kind of attention to her, she rumbled on the couch and with her power she separated from one of her hands so she could take a bunch of grapes and leave it on top of her mouth while she grabbed it with her floating hand, The first thing that caught your attention as expected was his big round red clown nose, he also had a characteristic clown makeup, Quite well done, her long blue hair was gathered in two cute ponytails with ponies in the ponytail garters, she wore a beautiful red bodysuit, with ruffles on her neckline, sleeves and lower area, in the middle of her chest there were white pons to match her scrunchies, her bare legs were covered with red and white striped stockings

Buggy when he heard the door open he directed his gaze to it, seeing Mrs. Crocodile and then to you, when his eyes fell on your figure his gaze lit up and he jumped up from the chair while he approached you with a big smile "Croco-Chan, you finally arrived! I was getting bored because Dracu doesn't pay attention to me," he said while pouting, Mihawk opened his eyes at his name and looked at Buggy seriously with those beautiful yellow eyes outlined "Don't call me that." He said dryly, his gaze rested for a few seconds on your form, scanning you from top to bottom making your body tremble, without taking his gaze off you he raised the wine glass to his lips taking a sip "Oooww, Dracu come on, don't be that serious" Buggy said with a melodious tone as he directed his gaze to the swordswoman and then quickly directed his gaze towards you with a big smile in which there was a hint of mischief. I didn't know you knew such beautiful girls" He said as he stood in front of you, he smiled happily and took both of your hands "Delighted darling, I'm Buggy, the biggest of the pirates, although you already know that" He said while winking at one of his eyes and giving you two big kisses on the cheek, making your face burn. Crocodile looked at the scene seriously, belching smoke from his cigar while letting out a small "Tsk". Her large hand decorated with rings rested on your hip, bringing your body closer to hers as she looked at the clown with a smile "It's MY clown assistant, keep a distance.." "Oh come on Croco, don't be so jealous" He said again in a singsong manner while a slight panic could be noticed in his voice, your lady let out a groan as she began to walk towards the couch, passing by the blue-haired one

Buggy followed behind them, watching Crocodile sit in one of the corners of the couch, looked at Mihawk and simply shook his head in greeting as he took the cigar out of his mouth and shook the ash from it. You looked at Mihawk and approached her, ready to greet her in a symbol of politeness: "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Mihawk." She looked you up and down, put the glass on the table and then took one of your hands delicately, brought it to her lips and kissed your knuckles gently, placing her intense yellow eyes on yours "It's a pleasure dear.." Your cheeks turned a deep red as the jet released your hand as gently as before. You swallowed trembling saliva and nodded as you returned to your lady's side, standing next to her, your lady looked at the swordswoman seriously while chewing the cigar with her teeth with some rage, you looked at Crocodile and somewhat nervously placed your hand on top of hers, she quickly turned it over and grabbed your hand tightly and possessively. You've always known that your lady is very possessive and jealous when it comes to you, in many of the gatherings you've been to with her she's kept you glued to her, making it clear to people that you were her property.

Buggy sat on the couch, between the two women as she swallowed, noticing the nervousness in her to be between those two great women, I mean, who wouldn't be nervous? He cleared his throat and coughed softly as he looked at the women with a nervous smile, "Well girls, let's talk about the Cross Guild."

The three women were talking for a few long minutes, Croco was the one who talked the most, as she was the most accustomed in these matters, Buggy answered from time to time and blurted out some complaint or bad joke when she had the opportunity and finally Mihawk, she was the quietest and just talked from time to time, arguing with your lady. In the meantime you stood silently by your mistress's side, you were accustomed to stand for several hours at the meetings to which you went; But even if you were used to it, your legs kept getting tired, making you move a little. Buggy looked at you and smiled softly as he cocked his head "Hey sweetie, do you want to sit down? You've been on your feet for quite some time" The eyes of the other two women fell on you and you quickly got on your nerves as you shook your head with a slight smile on your face "No, no, I'm fine, but thank you very much Miss Buggy" "You don't need to behave so professionally sweetness, you can sit down and have a drink without a problem, What's more!" His hands separated from his body and flew quickly towards you, without any warning his gloved hands grabbed your hips and moved you towards the clown, forcing you to fall into his lap, he smiled widely and settled you on his lap, placing his chin on your shoulder, having his lips dangerously close to your neck, making your skin stand on end. Your cheeks warmed up again and you looked at your mistress, who watched furiously as you sat on the clown's lap, biting hard at the tip of her cigar. Buggy smiled and looked at both women as he wrapped his hands in your lap, gluing both bodies together and making you feel his breasts against your back

"Well, where were we going?" He said in a somewhat mischievous way in his voice as he hugged you as if you were a large stuffed animal. Crocodile continued to speak of the terms with some seriousness, looking at you and Buggy with each passing second. As Buggy spoke he stopped paying a modicum of attention, rubbing his face against your neck and breathing from it, making you shudder, with one of his hands apart he picked up the bunch of grapes again, bringing it to your lips while smiling kindly, encouraging you to eat and no doubt that was the straw that broke the camel's back for Mrs. Crocodile. With his big golden hook he grabbed Buggy's pigtails, pulling them and forcing his head to separate from his body, he let out a scream while looking at your lady trembling, Crocodile took a spur of his cigar and released the smoke on the girl's face while she looked at him with eyes full of fury "What do you think you are doing with MY assistant, "V-come on Croc, I'm being nice, don't be so angry, heh.." "Nice is it that you're squeezing her like you're a leech!?" You watched the scene fearfully from Buggy's lap, your eyes fell on Mihawk, who was quietly drinking from her wine

You swallowed hard and got up from Buggy's lap quickly, approaching your mistress and sitting on her lap, she quickly watched you while you took her cheeks with a slight blush on your face "My lady excuse me, I shouldn't have sat down from the beginning… You know I'm yours," you said in a soft, affectionate tone as you watched the larger woman, who sighed as she tossed Buggy's head into her lap, causing her to sob and grab her head with trembling hands.Crocodile looked at him with annoyance and another snap came out of his mouth, you moved your hands, making his eyes rest on you, watching your body on your lap, he sighed and let out a great cloud of smoke, his good hand took the cigar and his hook landed on your waist, sticking both breasts together while directing his lips well painted of that red that you loved so much to yours, giving you a big kiss while caressing your hips with the tip of his hook, making you let out a little gasp through the kiss as he felt the cold tip of it against your skin, gently scratching it.After a few seconds you separated due to lack of oxygen, looking for a few seconds, seeing that desire and anger in your mistress's eyes. She cleared his throat gently and settled you on his lap while clearing his throat softly, looking at the two women in the room seriously, "Good… Let's move on then."

You watched the two women for a second, you saw how Buggy had placed his head on his body again, he is wiping away the small panicked tears that had escaped his eyes at Crocodile's brutality while a great blush had adorned his cheeks, meanwhile Mihawk ran over your body sitting on your mistress's lap with a twinkle in his eye that you could not recognize, You let out a slight sigh as you timidly hid your face in your mistress's collarbone.

This alliance would be veeeeery long for you…

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count-alucard-tepes · 5 months

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I finally realized why Crocodile didn’t have a heat stroke with all those damn clothes on and a fucking coat in the fucking desert!

Reptiles love the heat! 🐊

What in the actual fuck!? How did I not realize this before…either that or he just never compromises on swag…case in point, he has time to change his clothes in Impel Down.

#ooc #one piece #sir crocodile #crocodile one piece #alabasta #baroque works #cross guild #impel down #I can’t with this baby daddy #I love him so much

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tonberry-yoda · 9 months

Note

HIIIIII ITS MEEEE- 🚁 the brrrr

its not papa croc but fluff croc is as 💪😤 ✨

Hereeeee

Croc maybe had something he had to tend to and returned late at night to y/n sleeping in dim lights in their very the comfortable the room 😌

And bro as always, tried to be as silent he can, doing his night routine before getting into the bed

But then croc had to hit his foot on the side of something that led to him hitting his head on another thing and something knocked over something and the other thing fell but he caught the thing in time landing on the floor on his bed in a swift magic poof poof move ykno

Thats when he heard a small mumble "crocodile you're an idiot" with a small mumbled laugh

When he looked towards y/n, shes still asleep and snoring and yes

As always you can take a smol percent of this idea or add more stuff to it and take this as an inspirationnn or no do this one 😌

Btw i saw your pending request list and jaw is dropped 👁️👄👁️

Proves you are a really good writer bc yu slayy :)

Anyway have great day and may yu continue to slay 🙏✨

-heli go brrrr 🐑🛋️

Late Again - Crocodile

notes - AHHHHH HI!!! I just finished Impel Down and saw wifey croc and nearly lost my mind! I love him sm and have been brainrotting for him B A D! Thank you for being the croc lover here and I am so glad this was still in my inbox for me to do tee hee. Lots of love and thank you so much for your kind words as always, it means a lot <3 word count - 339

You sighed at you dimmed the lights. He had to be home soon. You just kept reminding yourself that as you tucked yourself in your warm sheets. You were used to Croc being out late, but tucking yourself into bed was always pretty hard.

Passing out though was a whole other ordeal. And an actual easy one. You worked hard, almost just as hard as your husband, so getting to sleep was nothing and you would always pass out, lights on or off.

---

Crocodile opened the front door slowly, sighing as he knew you were probably out by now. He wasn't keeping track of time and the moment he looked at the clock, he wanted to slap himself in the face.

He packed up as quickly as he could and came home to darkness. Luckily, he already ate, so he didn't have to worry about that, but damn would it be nice to get a kiss or a hug or anything after such a long day.

He slipped off his shoes and hung up his coat before going upstairs. A sliver of hope came to him when he saw the light on in your bedroom, but that always happened. So when he saw the dim light shining on your sleeping figure, a little bit of disappointment swept over him.

He tried tip toeing around, but failed miserably when he hit his foot on the side of the nightstand, which made an empty glass fall (surprisingly not shattering in the process) and then he hit his head on a bookshelf nearby somehow, which made him again hit the same foot from earlier onto the bed frame.

Crocodile felt like such an idiot and he looked at you with wide eyes.

Somehow you were still asleep.

Until you let out a mumble. "You're such an idiot, Croc."

He turned off the lamp and crawled into bed. "You don't have to tell me twice." he whispered.

But as he wrapped his arms around you, he noticed that you were still fast asleep.

~~~~~

one piece masterlist | pinned post | ko-fi

2023 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated

~~~~~

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punkclownfreak · 2 months

Text

my favorite one piece outfits and why: non straw hats edition (part 1 ? there might be more ?!)

law

i love this fluffy coat with his orange symbol, it’s such a slay. this is in early dressrosa + the filler right before it. he’s so cute eating his onigiri, i love this outfit.

buggy

it’s impel down. it’s so simple yet so perfect. i love him so much, and his ponytail looks amazing. he’s so real. what a king.

smoker

he. this arc is actually insane for him. punk hazard made me want this man SO BAD. but anyways, in regards to the outfit, it’s a slay. the open shirt, slay. the four cigars, slay. less is more, he used to have way too many damn cigars.

crocodile

what a king. his marineford outfit is so good, impel down and marineford were the first time i realized why people think he’s so hot. trans king. his off the shoulder coat and green scarf are everything.

vivi

i don’t remember if this was the end of alabasta or what, but she looks so pretty in this outfit !! her body jewelry, her earrings, the flower !! pink is also just such a cute color on her.

kidd

this is in sabaody, and though so far where i am in one piece (beginning of dressrosa) his outfit is pretty consistent, he doesn’t always wear the blue sash, which i really like !! i love his weird lizard lookin pants and his spiky jacket.

tashigi

punk hazard tashigi !! i love her light pink coat and her cute lil floral shirt !! also special shout out to tashigi in smoker’s body, she looks so baby girl it’s insane.

ace

GREASY ACE GREASY ACE !! i love him. though i prefer ace shirtless like the iconic slut he is, outfit wise, this one was pretty good. he had his cool lil flame details n everything, which is always a slay.

perona

okay so a lot of people prefer her post timeskip outfit, but i love this one !! it’s so avril lavigne scenemo coded, i adore her so much !! and her eyes !! so creepy-cute !!

koby

my boyyyy !! you can’t really see it well in this, but it’s just your everyday marine fit. i love his bandana and glasses and overall it’s just so cute, i love him.

#one piece #one piece posting #op koby #perona #portgas d ace #tashigi #captain kidd #nefertari vivi #sir crocodile #one piece smoker #buggy #trafalgar d water law

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kirloskarcorrocoat · 27 days

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#tube sheet coating #tank internal coating #epoxy glass flake coating #corrosion resistance coating #water box coating #impeller coating #glass flake coating

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snowywolf1005 · 7 months

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KOBY X FEMALE PIRATE READER

Headcanons: You're a pirate, the world scary pirate, your technique is Shadow Manipulation. It, you can control over shadows, which you can use to entangle or trap your enemies. Shadow cloning - you can manipulate shadows to create the Shadow monster or yourself, Shadow transportation - is able to use shadows to teleport. And shape-shifting into people or various people.

So your bounty is $900,000,005

So you been caught.

Warning: blood, curse, fighting

On the marine, koby is a marine captain. "Captain koby!" A marine soldier yelled, "Yes?", "You will freak out what we just caught!".

"WHAT!!!?? (Y/N) (L/N) WAS CAUGHT!!!??" koby yelled. He asked them how they found you. Will they say they found you at the ground knock out.

Koby goes to the jail room to find you chain up. You look beat up. "You must be (Y/N) (L/N), is that right?".

"Who asking?" You said with a lower voice. "My name is coby, the Hero of the Marine Captain."

"You cause a lot of trouble," he's said. "We're are you taking me?". "To the Impel Down Prison".

As they are going to the Impel Down Prison. There was a storm, and all the marine had trouble serving.

And then a sea monster jumped out and tried to attack them, Koby couldn't defeat it , so as Helmeppo.

"How we defeat this creature!?" Helmeppo yelled. koby was still struggling. Then, out of nowhere, someone bunch the sea monster face was no other than (Y/N).

"WHAT!!?? HOW DID SHE GOT OUT!!!!????" koby yelled. "What!? (Y/N) just punch the seas monster.", "So she is the beast," all marine mutters about you.

You transform the gaint shadows monster. And let just say the sea monster got scared and swam away, "Why did you save us?" Koby question.

"Cause why not?" You said like you don't give a fuck. "Cause you're a bad guy, and you're a pirate," said koby

"Oh, that I just fight some badguys, and the marine think I'm a pirate. So yeah, but theagle, I'm stealing and fighting the marine and the pirate. By the way, do you have a bathroom? Cause my clothes got wet." You said blushing just a little.

As you change. You came out, and koby started bleeding his nose and his face turning red ( the same thing to Helmeppo and Marine soldier). You want to know why?

This is your clothes, choose anything you want:

"CHANGES YOUR CLOTHES!!!!!!!!!" koby yelled, covering his face with his hand. "But I have a black coat," you said.

"PUT IT ON THEN!!!!!" koby yelled again

#coby x reader #koby one piece #koby x pirate reader #coby x pirate reader #one piece x reader #koby x reader #one piece coby #one piece coby x reader #one piece koby #one piece koby x reader #one piece x pirate reader

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secondjulia · 1 year

Text

Hob Gadling's First Execution

WARNING: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE

“He was begging,” Dream said. Mud squelched all around them, but he and Death made no sound as they walked over the already bloodied field. “I heard it.”

“He was begging to live, you idiot!” Death said.

“How do you know?” Dream looked at Hob Gadling, kneeling before a hoard of soldiers. His hair and beard were coated in blood.

“He’s writhing away from the man with the axe, not towards him!”

“The specifics were unclear. His lips seem to be leaking, his words were obstructed. And there is only one logical thing to hope for in this scenario.”

Death shook her head. It had barely been a decade since they’d visited the White Horse, and Dream had repeatedly pointed out — as if she could have failed to notice — that the world had only become a less appealing and more brutal place to live.

“But look at him!” Dream said. “Such misery, my sister! Surely he wishes for his torment to be over.”

“This is his torment.” Death said. “And he wishes, I am quite certain, to avoid it entirely.”

She sighed, her eyes running over the line of men on their knees in the mud, hands bound. A few met her eyes with a glimmer of hope. One beamed broadly, even as he shook and panted, blood running down his face. Hob Gadling did not look over. Though he had squirmed when they were first dragged out to the field where the masked man waited to end their short, brutal lives, he was now still. His gaze didn’t scan the assembled crowd for support or mercy but looked defiantly ahead.

“But how could any sensible creature wish to continue to live in a world such as this?” Dream asked.

“I’m pretty sure he doesn’t,” Death said. “None of them do. Not in a world such as this. It doesn’t mean they don’t want to live.”

“Hm.” Dream nodded toward the man who had beamed at Death. “That one likes this world. He still dreams of the glory he may yet achieve through his sacrifice. He would continue on, dying a thousand deaths for his lord if he were allowed.”

“See?” Death smile kindly at the doomed man. “Some sensible creatures have found a way to embrace their reality.”

“I would not call that sensible.”

Death gave Dream a sad smile that said she knew very well his callousness was mostly an act.

Dream knew each and every one of these kneeling men. He had witnessed their final nightmares and bestowed, where he could, more comforting dreams. It was a balance that took a careful hand — something Dream had had to cultivate more and more as civilizations grew. Waking from a lovely dream only to face the executioner could be a torture, while waking from the horrors of night to face the end of torments could be a relief. Forbidden as he was from interfering in the lives of mortals beyond his own dominion, Dream did his best with the powers he had.

And to others — those who would walk away from this field — he gave harsher visions so that they might not forget the blood they shed. He hoped that one day the horror of such practices would impel their end.

Though he was still certain that the next few minutes would prove him right, Dream felt no pleasure. Parts of him would die today. Each of the men kneeling in the mud had lived rich lives within his realm. One who had dreamed of glory now only hoped for a swift end. Another only wished for heat as the chill rain soaked through his tunic and dripped from his hair. Several held friendly faces and warm hands in their daydreams. Others’ minds had gone blank with fear, all thought and creation already stolen from them. Their dreams would die today, and those parts of Dream, too.

Hob Gadling had slept little these last few days. Dream had busied himself with others, honorably not wanting to act in any way that would push his wager with Death one way or another. But now, Hob’s mind was unignorably full and active, daydreams spinning out, vivid and loud. He dreamed of—

Dream turned from the sight immediately.

His own face looked out of the daydreams of Hob Gadling.

“You are ready, my sister?” Dream asked, trying to cover his surprise.

She nodded. “This century’s looking to be nearly as busy as the last.”

As a soldier walked toward Hob, Dream forced himself to watch. He never enjoyed seeing his sister’s work, especially not when it began like this. Humanity had always been prone to fits of violence, but in its growing civilizations, their capacity to enact horror had exploded. Still, Dream had not expected to feel so sick at the sight.

Relief and fear gripped Hob in equal measure as the man strode forward to seize him first. He’d’ve preferred to die in battle, sword in hand, but at least this would be over soon.

Let us meet here again, Robert Gadling…

A slight smile brushed his lips. At least the voice he’d heard a thousand times out of memory, held closely in his heart, would accompany him to his end.

…in this tavern of the White Horse, in one hundred years.

“Forgive me, lord,” Hob murmured. “I shall not make our meeting.”

The pretty face shone in his mind as clearly as if he’d last seen it yesterday. His slender, black-clad stranger, the scarlet jewel hung over his chest no match in glamor for those petal pink lips dressed with a mocking smile. Oh, how Hob had wished to meet him again when they were both ancient and put a different expression on that lovely face!

Hob had been lucky. He was not yet old, but he’d made it longer than most. All his mates who’d laughed so heartily at his boasts all those years ago had gone to their graves, wounded or worn down, their laughter long gone. But Hob still felt like his brash, young self, defiant in the face of death. He even looked young. His body had held up remarkably well through years of battle and banditry and plague creeping back through England, and, honestly, he felt that he could have held up many more decades — if not forever.

But now his luck had run out.

Hob looked up defiantly at the enemy who had condemned him. He couldn’t even remember now why they’d been trying to kill each other. The political machinations behind the throne were too distant, and Hob didn’t care. A moment later, he was forced to his belly, pushed down onto hard stone, his face hanging over the river’s edge. He was not important enough for his head to be set on a pike, frightening others away from his treacherous deeds. He was a simple soldier, a common mercenary, just unlucky enough to take a coin for services rendered on the wrong side of the battlefield, — to be swept out of the way with the fall of the axe more for convenience than political statement. Hob’s mortal remains would fall into the river like waste.

He had not even been given the curtesy of a blindfold.

Hob shut his eyes. In the darkness at the end of his life, he looked into a moon-pale face with storm grey eyes. He ignored the final flashes of the life he’d led up until then, regretting only that he would never meet his pretty lord again.

Then agony shattered all thought.

Hob was falling.

Seconds swelled to years.

Warm drops that must have been his own heart’s blood splashed onto his face before the river tumbled him into itself and he was drowning, still feeling the gaping wound at the base of his skull.

Then cold, wet, darkness.

Hob woke, thrashing in pain.

He gasped and cried out as the air scraped over raw flesh. He flailed out with both hands and the soft mud was like hot stones against his skin. He flopped like a fish on the river bank, naked, every inch of him scorched with a pain beyond even the most brutal interrogator’s imaginings.

For a long time, Hob just writhed and cried.

Death had too much work to linger, but Dream had followed the severed head as it floated down the river. The body of Hob Gadling had been tossed unceremoniously into a pit with a dozen others. Dream knew that the life force that kept the foolish man alive would spring from the brain, though he still severely doubted whether there could possibly be any desire for such a life. Dream had seen uncountable last-second horrors of decapitated victims and knew the pain must be unimaginable, if (usually) brief. Now, he sat hidden in a grove of willows a little ways away from where Hob had washed up and waited for the begging to begin.

Death would not be too busy to return with her mercy.

Hob lay curled on the muddy river bank for a long time before he could really look down at the body that had, through some magic, appeared under his neck. It was tender as a fresh cut all over, but it looked like him. Slightly soft with hair over the chest and legs. Bound with the soldier’s muscles he’d had since he was a young man. The only difference Hob could see was that fresh skin had grown where old scars had once been. He hadn’t gotten any scars since his early thirties — not since around the time he’d seen his stranger in the White Horse.

His stranger!

“Oh you beautiful devil!” Hob’s voice was hoarse and it pained him severely to speak. But still, he laughed. “My wonderful, blessed stranger!”

In one hundred years!

He hadn’t just been challenging Hob to live. This wizard or saint or devil must have made it so!

“Oh my stranger, my beautiful lord!” Hob called out. His head tilted back to the heavens. But then he looked around, uncertain if that’s where his mysterious benefactor’s power had come from. He pressed his forehead into the mud, bowing to whatever unseen force had saved him. “If your hand were Satan’s own I’d kiss it!”

As soon as the words left him, he bit his lip — a sharp, torturous pain that made tears spring to his eyes. Hob sat up and looked around swiftly. Even in his glee, a thrill of fear ran through him. He didn’t wish to find out what it was like to be burned alive for consorting with the devil.

“From this day forward,” Hob murmured, his head bowed, “when I pray my Lord, it is to you I pray. Ever after, when I speak of thanks and mercy and forgiveness and glory, it is to you I speak. In your name, lord, though I do not have it. Thank you!”

Dream watched, dumbfounded, as Hob Gadling pushed himself up and limped naked down the river bank, grinning like an idiot.

Regretting the time away from his duties, Dream shook his head and turned away. He would be right eventually. This day had only served to vividly remind him him of the acute horror of this world. And Hob still had ninety years left to endure before their next meeting.

Dream was patient.

#I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ONE WORD ABOUT ORPHEUS #This is the AU called Things Work How I Want Them To #Ferdie Friday #Ferdinand Kingsley #Sandman #Dream of the Endless #Death of the Endless #The Hollow Crown #Richard II #Spoiler Alert I guess #I mean this story came out like four hundred years ago so I feel like the Statute of Limitations on Spoilers has expired #I really didn't realize how much the first one looks like he's calling Henry Bolingbroke YOU BITCH and I think it's totally appropriate

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deadpresidents · 3 months

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After that terrible Sunday at Shiloh, I started out to find [General] Grant and see how we were to get across the river. It was pouring rain and pitch dark, there was considerable confusion, and the only thing just then possible as it seemed to me, was to put the river between us and the enemy and recuperate. Full of only this idea, I ploughed around in the mud until at last I found him standing backed up against a wet tree, his hat well slouched down and coat pulled up around his ears, an old tin lantern in his hand, the rain pelting on us both, and the inevitable cigar glowing between his teeth, having retired, evidently, for the night. Some wise and sudden instinct impelled me to a more cautious and less impulsive proposition than at first intended, and I opened up with, "Well Grant, we've had the devil's own day, haven't we?" "Yes," he said, with a short, sharp puff of the cigar; "lick 'em tomorrow, though."

-- General William Tecumseh Sherman, on General Ulysses S. Grant after the first day of the Civil War's Battle of Shiloh in 1862, as told to the Washington Post (published May 17, 1891).

#History #Civil War #Ulysses S. Grant #William Tecumseh Sherman #General Grant #General Sherman #Battle of Shiloh #Civil War Generals #Union Generals #President Grant #William T. Sherman #U.S. Grant #Civil War History #Civil War Battles #Military History #Military Leaders #BAMF #Especially Grant

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bythenineshards · 27 days

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Hook and Lace

Welp... Here's the Croc x Syre smut lol

Summary: Croc catches a scantily clad Syre in one of his coats.

Warnings: Rough sex, vaginal penetration, oral, little bit of shame, and exhibitionism, no aftercare in this scene (sorry).

Minors... please dni. This isn't for you.

A/N: So there's some context needed for this scene. I'll try to keep this short. Syre met Croc in Impel Down. She saved his life, and the two of them got...friendly. She also accidentally dropped her last name. Syre's family owns a generations old weapons manufacturing empire. Magellan didn't think it was wise for her to disclose her name to inmates for that reason. During the jailbreak, Croc rescued her from the prisoners and got her to safety (killing a few men in the process). After Marineford, Syre was released from duty in hopes that Bonne-Aventure Arms wouldn't drop their contracts with the World Government. Syre returns home, and life goes on normally for a short time. Crocodile then shows up and gives her a proposition. She marries him, he gets introduced into the society of her island, a partnership with Bonne-Aventure Arms and he doesn't take evidence to the WG that her family were friends and business associates of Gol D Rogers. Syre agrees. Thus begins a time in which Syre is torn between being attracted to him but obligated to hate him for threatening her family.

Syre liked the way she looked in lace. She admired the delicate patterns in white against her skin and the twinkle of a garter belt holding up her stockings. She played with her hair, pulling it up, contemplating in the mirror then letting it bounce around her chin. The maid would be back with her clothes soon. Not soon enough if she was being a little spoiled. Winter had fallen on Bella Violette and left her bedroom chilly this morning. She was about to grab her robe when she noticed something in the mirror.

A monstrous black fur coat was draped over one of her chairs. Syre glowered at it. Ridiculous man. Leaving his belongings all over her room like he owned the place. She had half a mind to burn it to warm up her room more. He must've forgotten it after his visit last night. A huff left her body with a shake of her head. She reached for her robe and was left wanting. It was lovely but too thin. Gerta had better get back soon or she was going to freeze in here.

Her eyes drifted back to the coat.

Stupid man, leaving his things all over my house, she grumbled internally as she padded over to it.

Her fingers ran through the luxurious black fur and her lips formed a soft smile. She lingered there, listening for footsteps to tell her that Gerta was approaching. Crocodile wasn’t home. He had business with her mother that morning and wouldn’t be back for at least a few hours. She bit her lip, well if it was going to be in here, it might as well be useful. Syre was glad she wasn’t in heels. She might’ve toppled right over with the weight of it as she pulled it from the chair and draped herself in it. Heels might’ve kept it from brushing along the floors though. It was comically big for her but she was warm in a matter of seconds under its weight.

If he’s going to leave his things in my room, they belong to me now… Another justification. Syre had gone back to the mirror and swayed a little to make the coat do the same. Her hands stroked the thick fur and pulled it tighter around her. She shrugged the fur closer up and inhaled. It smelled of his cologne, rich, heady and twisted with cigar smoke. It smelled of him. She had no justification for the warm feeling it gave her. A husband should make his wife feel comforted yet sensuous. Crocodile was not her husband. He was a filthy pirate that was blackmailing her family. He made her sick. He was scum and Syre hated him. Who cared that he smelled good and made her come undone so easily?

A dry rumbling chuckle sent warm prickly terror blooming in her chest, “Isn’t that a sight…”

Syre whirled to face the door, catching the coat and pulling it tight around herself. She didn’t want him to see the lacey things underneath and get laughable ideas. Curse this mansion and its well-oiled doors, “Were you raised in a barn? Barging in here like a heathen!” She chastised like a cornered animal.

Her vitriol was met with another chuckle as Crocodile closed the door behind himself. It was a pleasant contrast. Her pink and sugar features and his midnight black fur. The only thing that didn’t please him was the cocktail of fear and disdain in her doe brown eyes. It was a far cry from the sultry look he’d seen in her mirror.

“What do you want?” Syre spat at him, taking a step back as he moved closer.

“I believe that’s my coat,” he replied, “I was going to meet with your mother and came back for it.”

“You left it in my room.” She retorted, clutching the coat tighter.

“My mistake,” He gave her a wicked look, his eyes hungry, "It won't happen again.”

“Good, now begone with you.” She dismissed him with a wave and strode toward her vanity.

“My coat, Syre.”

She stopped, searching for something to say. “I'll have this sent when I am properly dressed. Have a servant fetch one of your others and leave me.”

She continued to the vanity and casually dabbed her wrist with perfume. Crocodile followed, eating up the distance with his long legs. Syre caught sight of him in the mirror and spun to face him. He was closer than she expected. Her startled step backwards jostled everything on the vanity. Her hands grabbed the tabletop for support as he loomed over her. With nothing holding it closed, he was able to glimpse the ensemble. His hook glinted in the faint morning light, coming to move the coat aside so he could get a better look. A satisfied groan eased from him as freely as cigar smoke.

Crocodile drank her in greedily. This coat had never adorned anything more lovely. He never tired of seeing her like this.

“Stop staring, cretin, and leave.” Syre mumbled, avoiding his eyes. She could smell his cologne and it was making her dizzy.

His brows lifted with amusement, the round side of his hook trailing down the center of her belly, “If that is what you desire…”

Syre made no move, said nothing. She trembled with the graze of his hook on her bare skin.

Crocodile leaned in closer, inhaling her subtle perfume, “Sweet girl, if that is what you want, look me in my eyes and say it again.”

Her eyes remained averted but her words were tart, “I want nothing to do with you.”

Quick as a flash, his large hand came to jerk her chin to look at him. A startled squeak rattled through her as his fingers squished her face. Her cheeks were pleasantly pink and her eyes, settling down from the brief shock, held the same guilty need he'd seen time and time again since their wedding. Since Impel Down.

“I see,” A smirk tugged at the smolder on his face as he released her and she looked away again. He seized the opportunity to place a kiss on her neck. A breathy whimper escaped her, making his smirk deepen. He whispered in her ear, “do you know what I think?”

“No. I couldn't care less.” She rolled her eyes.

“I think you've done well in pretending to hate me.”

“I will not have you slander me in my own home.” She snapped.

“Our home, Sweet,” he corrected in a deep purr. He leaned down, his lips barely brushing her neck. “No one's here to see you enjoy me. I won't tattle. So why don't you drop the spiteful hellcat act and be the sweet girl we both know you are. The one that gave me kisses in prison.”

Syre said nothing but her blush was reaching her ears now. After giving her neck one last kiss, he slowly sank down to his knees. Surprise made Syre look at him quizzically, “What are you doing?”

“I'm going to make you miss me. Even if you say you won't.”

Syre bit her lip as he gently pushed on her collarbone, guiding her to sit on the vanity. His hand slid under her thigh, prying it open with little resistance. The lace tore like tissue paper as he dragged his hook down her body. Despite the sharp tip causing no damage to her skin, she still gasped.

“Shhhh, I'll buy you more later.” He said, nuzzling the lace that the top of her stockings with his nose then the pink curls. His breath was hot on her exposed sex. It seemed like she was going to gasp again when his tongue came out to separate her folds with one long stroke. The sound came out breathless, soft and bordering on a mewl. He chuckled in response.

“So defiant yet already so wet…” He taunted, teasing her entrance with a thick finger. She could feel how easily the broad fingertip slipped over her beautifully displayed pussy.

Syre squirmed as his hook came to wrap her thigh but seeing he meant no harm, she relaxed. She watched as Crocodile’s tongue lingered on her aching slit, rolling torturously but never caving to her desire to be stretched around it. A soft sound made his violet eyes immediately meet hers.

Crocodile savored his feast, coaxing out breathy moans as his tongue lapped at her growing arousal. His eyes never left hers. Syre's legs trembled and her hips bucked of their own accord.

“See…” He drawled, pulling away to breathe. A string of saliva and arousal was wiped away as he panted. “Such a good girl… my Sweet Girl, blushing while I lick her cunt…”

Syre's lips parted to bite back that she didn't belong to him. She wanted to rebuke the idea but the heat in her cheeks made her silent. Holding back the desire to taste his name as a moan was challenge enough. Forming a coherent argument to rebuff him was a herculean feat. Especially as he yanked her closer and lavished her neglected clit with slow messy kisses. His fingers gripped her thigh so hard she feared it might bruise. His tongue flicked the small bud, swirling around it in tight circles and sucking on her parted lips. It all left her body warm and fuzzy with pleasure. Sinking her fingers into his hair felt sensitive and unreal, borderline ethereal. She was a delicate doll cast in sugar, poised to dissolve in his mouth.

“Sorry, Doctor Bonne-” Gerta said as she came bustling cheerfully through the door carrying Syre’s clothes for the day. She stopped dead at the picture before her, eyes widening in shock.

“Out. Your Mistress is busy.” Crocodile commanded, his tone leaving no room for questioning. Syre’s cheeks burned knowing that Gerta had seen how exposed and shamefully aroused she was. Part of her didn't care, she wanted to plead for him to keep going. Her fingers hadn’t left Crocodile’s hair. She just met her maid’s eyes, her own weak with desire. Syre's body was taught but her legs were held firmly open. Her eyes looked down at her husband. The indecent man wasn't going to wait for the poor older woman to leave. Returning to his feast leaving Syre to burn more vibrantly with embarrassment and the moans she was withholding.

Gobsmacked, Gerta fumbled with what to do. Decorum warring with the harsh order from the master of the house and the astonishing scene before her. She scurried to lay the clothes down on the chair, wiped her sweaty hands on her apron and went to ask her usual “will there be anything else, Doctor?” then realized how silly that was. Her mouth opened and snapped shut twice like a fish, her eyes seeking refuge on the polished wood floor. The maid then fled the room before she could be ordered to leave again.

“T-The servants gossip…” Syre managed to say.

“Nothing they didn't already know, Darling,” Crocodile retorted, rising from the floor. He practically slithered up her body to kiss her. She accepted the kiss without thinking about it, tasting herself on his tongue.

“See how sweet you are?” He asked, his hand easing the coat from her shoulders.

Syre wasn't particularly fond of being manhandled, or that's what she would say if asked in polite conversation. Crocodile on the other hand, enjoyed it thoroughly. Once the coat rested on the vanity, Croc had her bent over before she could squeak out a protest.

“Wait…what are you-” She began as he unbuckled his belt.

“If you want me to stop, use your words.” He demanded. When nothing came from her, he smirked, “that's what I thought.”

Syre's fingers gripped the fur underneath her. She abruptly sank down with a firm kick to her ankle. It wasn't meant to hurt her, just spread her legs further apart. She felt the blunt tip of his cock wetting itself in her folds. Croc hummed with satisfaction at just how soaked she was.

“Breathe,” he warned, as he lined himself up and pressed inside her heat with a groan. Syre's resolve was breaking as he, inch by glorious inch, stretched her.

Her legs went to jelly the moment he'd felt her relax enough for him to move. His pace was nowhere near as gentle as his initial easing inside. He pulled out slowly at first only to ram back in completely, bottoming out with a startled moan. His large hand running fingertips up then down her back. She didn't have long before the pace of his thrusts became merciless. She whimpered and moaned into the fur, feeling her walls squeeze his cock deliciously. Her shame caused her to melt into the fur and bury her face, amplified by the teasing low chuckle behind her.

"I wish you could feel how greedy your pussy is. Already trying to milk me like a spoiled brat. You can cum on my cock all you want, Princess. But you're going to earn what your cunt is begging me for.”

All Syre could do was whimper and mewl, too lost in the pleasure of being stretched around his cock to care that he was taunting her. Listening to the mingling of her cries and his grunts and deep groans. Every so often he'd utter a, “Good sweet girl.”

She was ripped from her haze when the cold metal of his hook wrapped her neck and yanked her upwards. His massive chest was flush against her back, pinning her to the vanity with hard muscle. Crocodile forced Syre to meet her own gaze in the mirror. His pace never relented as he growled in her ear, "Look at your pretty face. I want you to remember this face every time you say you hate me. Because I damn well will."

He nipped at her ear, her head filled dizzyingly with his panting. Her own breath caught when his free hand left its position steadying the vanity to rub her clit. She didn't even try to prolong her climax. He groaned feeling her come undone, fresh heat and arousal coating his cock with each wave.

“Atta girl…” He chuckled, giving her clit a pat causing a wave of aftershocks to clench him. Her soaked sex reinvigorated his pace.

The various bottles of lotions, perfumes and cosmetics teetered and fell without his support, rolling over the edge and hitting the floor. Those that found the rug were salvageable. Those that hit the bare wood floor met a messier fate. Crocodile’s merciless pace moved Syre's jewelry chest closer and closer to the edge with each thrust. The small cushion lined chest joined the shattered bottles not before erupting on impact, sending necklaces, bracelets and earrings scattered all over her room.

Syre boldly broke eye contact with herself to look at her husband. He was practically cheek to cheek with her, rutting her like a wild beast. Unruly locks of hair had fallen over his face as he kept his rhythm. Sweat was beading at his forehead and dripping down his face. He didn't notice her looking, his eyes were closed, savoring the feel of her weakly squeezing him for his seed. The sight of him was intoxicating and she felt her walls spasm, threatening a second climax. Syre was sure he felt it too, a smirk came before a growl as he nuzzled her face affectionately, "Again? So soon?”

Syre didn't have the wherewithal to answer. Instead she returned his lust drunk tenderness with some of her own in the form of a soft kiss to his cheek amid her breathless moans.

Her second release was more subdued. A pathetically weak plea for him to join her. She wasn't sure he'd accept the offer with how pitiful her offering was. His name drifted from her lips accompanying her begging.

“Please Crocodile… I need it… please fill me…”

His hand returned to her drenched sex to persuade her to give him a third, “I'm so close… just one more Princess and I'll give you what you want.”

Syre whimpered that she couldn't. He called her bluff with sinful circles at the apex of her thighs. Helplessly, she submitted to the pleasure and let it build. She was in a daze as the third orgasm had her trying to escape him. He yanked her back with a groan. Crocodile held her in place as she felt him pulse inside her. His body was tense above her, his hand bruising her hip as it kept her still. They stayed like that for a while after he finished. Syre was too weak and shaky to move leaving Croc to kiss her jaw and cheek, whispering to her.

“Good girl…”

Her neck felt bare without his hook around it. As he withdrew from her all of her was suddenly cold and lonely. Syre's legs trembled, his hot seed spilling out of her, the only thing keeping her on her feet was the vanity underneath her and that shook almost as much as she did. Her hooded eyes watched through the shaky mirror as Crocodile buckled his belt and smoothed his hair back into place. She made a slow turn, trying to straighten and face him, grasping the tabletop for dear life. Noticing her staring wide eyed, he sauntered over, glass crunching under his shoes, and took her chin in his thumb and index finger. His thumb grazed her bottom lip. He leaned down and gave her a quick yet mocking kiss.

“I'll tell your mother you say hello,” he said with a smug grin before departing her room without the coat he'd come for.

#syre bonne aventure #one piece oc #oc x canon #syre x crocodile #crocodile x oc #smut #Hook and Lace #Bonne-Aventure Syre #op sir crocodile #sir crocodile

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