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#one piece thirsts
thevirtualvalentine · 8 months
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004. ONE PIECE, CAPTAIN KOBY.
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content warnings: afab!fem!reader, virgin!koby but it’s not vital to the plot, riding, top!reader, unprotected sex (wrap it up), cheesy “trapped in a small room” smut troupe, penetrative sex, dry humping, sex with feelings, “good boy” is used twice.
plot: your regular patient, Captain Koby, visits your office but you’re both thrown in a small broom closet during an evacuation drill! He may or may not have a crush on you and your dubious positioning on top of him will send him over the edge.
Captain Koby wouldn’t call himself a hypochondriac, but he cannot keep himself from waltzing into the nurses station on some bullshit excuse to see his favorite nurse. He’s just one of many of your admirers, and he’s more than aware of the fierce competition for your attention. While he doesn’t believe rank means anything in the grand scheme of winning your affections, one quick use of his haki has basic cadets running so he can spend alone time with you.
“And what is it this time Captain?” You whip around in your seat when he sheepishly says hello, scratching the back of his neck. You greet him with a sweet smile as he shuffles in.
“Uhhh, heart burn, yeah terrible terrible heart burn. Think you have anything for me?” He knows he’s full of shit, but it’s worth the effort anyway if he gets to see you. His cheeks tinted just as pink as his hair, you’re pretty much the only good thing left on this base and that’s why he can never bring himself to leave until Garp makes him hull ass on another adventure. The way you smile at him so sweetly whenever he speaks makes his heart flutter almost uncomfortably fast in his chest, maybe he does have heart burn…
“At your age? You’re too fit to be bogged down by all these health problems Captain.” He likes the way it sounds when you say his title, it just rolls off your tongue better than anyone else’s.
He’s quick to think of another excuse, “but what if it’s something serious!” You laugh as he sits down on your medical table removing his captains jacket. You pull down your skimpy nurses uniform before walking over to him with his chart on your clipboard, “I just wanna make sure.”
He wins another smile from you as you stand in front of him to check his vitals. You of course note how hot his face is and how he nervously twiddles his thumbs back and forth. He’s cute, too cute. Coming to your office week after week with a bosh excuse.
Koby loves the feeling of your hands on him, how delicate your finger tips skim over his shoulders and face. Of course it’s all professional, but who is he to complain? The scent of your haircare products and vanilla hovering in the air as you walk circles around him. It’s almost like a familiar routine between you two, he comes into bother you and you almost enable his deep-seated crush by not kicking him out flat on his ass.
“Well, no signs of any lingering symptoms Captain Koby, just a fast heart rate.” You shift your weight to one hip, letting your clipboard rest against your waist, his eyes following the curve of your body. “You’re good to go, will I see you next week?” Letting your red pen rest against your bottom lip you ask just to mess around with him a bit. He gets so flustered trying to find the right thing to say and you enjoy watching him gesture nervously as word vomit spews forth.
The line outside your waiting room has gotten exceptionally long during his stay and you don’t mean to rush him out, but, you do have a job to do. One cute little captain isn’t enough to distract you from your goals of helping people. “Next!” You call out down the hallway as he pulls his jacket back on.
The emergency evacuation lights start flickering before the long winded siren accompanies it. There must be some sort of drill as the overhead PA comes on. “Attention! All hands report to the dock. This is an emergency evacuation drill.” It’s been a few months since the last one, but still the obnoxious flickering and blaring alarms make your head reel in agony.
“Come with me, I’ll take you to the dock.” It’s Koby, he’s gesturing his hand forward for you to take as soldiers pour out into the hallways, he wouldn’t want you to get trampled over as thousands of people make their way outside. He’s always been sweet like this, a real gentleman.
His grip is strong and protective, yet gentle and nervous as he takes your hand in his. You’re placed in front of him while he clears the way for you both to pass through, that is until you’re both shoved into an open door connected to the long hallway.
Koby swaddles you into his chest to protect you from falling and the door is slammed shut in the process. You doubt you’d be able to get it open with the amount of people still passing through for at least a good ten minutes.
“Well shit, oh Captain Koby are you ok?” You hear groans beneath you and remember why your fall wasn’t nearly as painful as it could have been. There’s no light in the room and it’s rather cramped, barely any space to extend your limbs as you’re trapped on top of him. You push your hands against what feels like his chest while you try to look for a light, however you only find an oil lamp on a crate. You assume this was an area where people would come to smoke during work hours.
“I’m fine, are you ok? Does anything hurt miss y/n?” The concern in his tone his evident, his hands come to cup your face as he examines for any scratches or bruises. He’d never forgive himself if you were hurt on his accord.
“Hey isn’t that my job, I’m fine Captain thank you.” It finally sets in for him how he’s touching you so intimately and the precarious position you’re left in, sitting on top of him with knees on either sides of his hips.
It’s a view he only imagines late at night when it’s just him and his hand, maybe some lotion if he’s lucky to not wake Helmeppo. The lamp illuminates his flustered face as he tries his best to slide out from under you, apologizing profusely and almost knocking you in the face while flailing around.
“Koby,” you say trying to calm him down but he’s visibly panicking and you feel him stiffening under you with each passing second. While he’s been moving like a lune, you’re still on top of him; dress rising above your thighs as your clothed pussy sits above his cock, he doesn’t mean to but it’s rubbing your clit so pleasantly. “Koby, it’s ok, I’m not mad.”
“W-what—” his glasses that are typically resting on his head now lay on his nose. It’s amusing watching a Captain of the marines so discombobulated.
“I said, it’s ok, I’m not mad.” You push his glasses up his face to get a better look at all of him, he’s rock hard and only getting stiffer. “In fact, I’m flattered.”
You lean forward letting your lips rest against his parted ones, looking in his eyes for any sort of hesitation— but that doesn’t last. A hand flies to your curls as he pulls you forward by the hip, you knew he liked you but you didn’t know just how much. His kisses are inexperienced and starved, like he’s been waiting his whole life to have this exact moment with you.
Kobys trying not to bust in his pants at this ‘unfortunate’ situation he’s been dropped into. Not only does he get to be alone with you, he’s quite literally living his fantasy and you want him just as bad. He’s praying his inexperience doesn’t show but he wants to taste you so bad he’ll risk it all.
“Shirt off,” you command, it’s too stuffy for all these layers. Unzipping the top half of your uniform lets your breasts spill out, soft skin illuminated by the glow of the small lamp. He obeys without any sort hesitation, “you listen well Captain.”
The tips of his ears turn pink when you comment on his lack of reluctance, kissing his cheeks and then down the column of his neck as his baited breaths fill the small space.
He’s so pale you’re worried hickies will get him in trouble with Garp but he’s squirming under you as your lips make contact with his neck. He’s tugging on your clothes so needily as if to say, ‘harder please, I can take it,’ and goodness do you want to give it to him. What the hell, that jacket should cover it up.
He sighs pleasurably as you work on him, hissing when you scratch at his unmarred skin. His palms grab the globes of your ass as he rocks your pussy against his dick. He’s panting with his head rolled back too lost in the pleasure. “You wanna fuck me captain? That why you come to my office every week.”
He merely moans, eyebrows pinching together in concentration. The fabric of his pants rub against your clit so deliciously, dry fucking one of the navy’s top officers during a drill wasn’t in your plans today but holy fuck did it ignite something in you.
You kiss him again, slower this time, letting your hips drag harshly against his bulge just to tease him. Tongue creeping against his in a fight to slow the pace before he cums in his pants.
“Want you to fuck me Captain, please, I’ll make you feel good,” you half moan, tugging the hair at the base of his neck. If the devil was whispering in his ear right now, he’d let you take him. He trembles feeling need surge through him like a wave, all at once he needs to bury his dick in you to the hilt.
One problem, he’s never had sex before. The way your body rolls on top of his makes his mind hazy, forgetting all about the drill going on outside. “Not enough space,” he huffs, “just fuck me, I’m yours.” Quick on his feet, not missing a beat.
Now it’s your turn to swoon. He looks so honest when he says it, hearts in his eyes as he holds your hips; squeezing against your skin reassuringly.
Sitting back on his knees you pull your dress over your head, slipping your panties off as the lantern illuminates your curves in a soft glow. Koby watches enamored, forgetting that this is the part where he’s supposed to whip his dick out.
“Am I gonna hurt you? I didn’t touch you or anything.” He’s trying to not just reach out and grab you, in his deepest fantasies he gets to drill you in missionary while you call out his name. However, he knows stretching you open is an important aspect of sex (according to his books).
“You’re sweet, but we’ve gotta be quick.” Hovering over his length you use your own slick to lube his dick up before you’re trying to slink down it. He’s pretty average in length with a slight allowance in girth, and yes the curtains match the drapes.
The burn stings before it fades out into pleasure. “Oh fuck fuck fuck, that feels so good,” he whines, gripping your thighs with uncanny strength that’ll surely leave bruises. You wrap your arms around his neck as your cunt tries to swallow him, softly sighing as he fits you like a puzzle piece. Down and down you go on his thick shaft.
He almost doesn’t know what to do with himself, you sucking him in threatens to make drool spill down his chin. Never in his life did he think something warm and yet simultaneously wet could make his toes curl like this. “S’tight, keep going please.” You’re leaned over his shoulder as you try to catch your breath, ignoring the sounds of footsteps outside as you start to slowly bounce on Captain Kobys cock.
“Makin’ me feel so full already,” you whisper into his ear, digging your nails into his shoulders as you clench around his girth. The tip of his cock’s bullying your cervix with each bounce of your hips. The sound of your ass meeting his lap melds with his whines as he tries to get ahold of himself. Your pussy’s just too good.
“Ah— oh, fuck! Faster faster,” his voice sounds so vulnerable as your gummy walls squeeze him in, he hasn’t moved his hands from strangling your waist. Pushing you down further and further each time you chase his base.
It’s all so good; your hot breath, your moans for him to fuck you deeper, the way you’re holding onto him like you need him. He’s utterly melting, succumbing for some tight cunt. Maybe those navy stories he heard weren’t full of shit.
Koby’s chasing his orgasm, using your body as a toy subconsciously. Your ass in his hands as he spreads your cheeks, forcing himself in your heat that scorches him in a way he can’t get enough of. “So good Captain, don’t stop. I could cum on you just like this,” you say pushing him back against the wall. It’s so desperate and raw, his mouth chases yours in a hot kiss as your hands tangle in his hair.
He moans like a little slut each time his tresses are wrapped around your fingers, saliva connecting his mouth to yours. The fucked out look on his face is priceless. “So handsome, what a good boy you are.” Wiping excess drool that threatens to spill past the corner of his lip as he looks like he’s about to cry. His hips jumping to meet yours as that phrase leaves your mouth.
“Oh you like that?” Such a useful piece of information, “then be a good boy and cum for me.”
The whimper that leaves his throat is guttural, high pitched as it rips through the air. His strong arms work double time to slam you down over and over again like a machine. He finishes inside you as he clutches you to his chest, keeping himself tucked inside your cunny while his cock twitches n coats your walls white.
“So good Koby, jus like that baby.” You’re rolling your hips on his, trying to milk out anything remaining as he gasps from the stimulation.
“Oh no wait, what about you? I’m so sorry—” he doesn’t even let himself pull out of you before he’s speaking a thousand miles a minute. No worries, you have an idea for that.
You both get dressed as you hear the crowds returning, helping him zip up his jacket to cover the already bruising areas of his neck. Koby pulls your dress down over your ass and then some, like he’s your protective boyfriend or something, you just roll your eyes.
Stepping out into the hallway in a sea of people you hold his hand as he walks behind you, slipping into the crowd unnoticed. You forgot to smooth his hair out so he looks like he’s just slept in some crazy position, oops. He’s got this love drunk look on his face as you lead him back to your office and shut the door. Hearts buzzing around him as he follows you, not even an arrow from Cupid could replicate that look. You get some stares here and there, but your cunts throbbing for more so you couldn’t care less.
You place your “Be back soon <3! “ sign on the handle before turning around to find him sitting on your patients table, looking a bit too eager for round two.
“Now Captain, finish what you started. Nurses orders.”
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Hands 💖
❥Slender hands with long fingers. Perfect for playing instruments. They make mundane tasks seem elegant and desirable. These hands will offer you the best the world has to offer.
Law. Doflamingo. Corazon. Crocodile. Yamato. Rob Lucci.
❥Well manicured nails and perfect skin. It's almost a shame to ask them to do any work that would damage their hands. These hands can be found confidently embracing yours.
Robin. Perona. Sanji. Sabo. Mihawk. Cavendish. Hawkins.
❥Thick and callused fingers worn from hard work. Their fingers are always warm; maybe a little too warm. These hands will always bring you comfort.
Zoro. Usopp. Kidd. Franky. Katakuri. Ace. Smoker. Kuzan.
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benkeibear · 8 months
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Fuck it....
Thirsts are open! ✨
Send me a prompt / kink and I'll write a drabble for you or nasty thoughts of your own - i don't care. Let's just be nasty together.
Open for:
Trigun Stampede
One Piece
Haikyuu
Blue lock
Demon Slayer
My hero academia
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wellfine · 19 days
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Work to be done 🍳
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sordidmusings · 6 months
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Let Go and Grip Me Tighter
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Moot request! Mihawk struggles with guilt from the nature of his fantasies about you and begins pulling away. You won't let that happen.
A/N: Omfg this one was cooking for awhile but it's finally ready. It starts with some angst (living without sex ed or resources on that causes Problems) but then there's like a lot of smut then a quick wind down with some aftercare! Has some “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails vibes 💀
Word Count: 9.3 k
Warnings: afab!reader, fem!reader, NSFW all over the place, dom!Mihawk, sub!reader, edging, overstimulation, spanking, praise, degradation, biting, marking, rough treatment, claiming, prone bone, missionary, creampie, manhandling, established relationship, Mihawk is very deeply in love with you and struggles with wanting to be a strict dom, he gets condescending 👌🏻, Mihawk orders you around, miscommunication angst up front
@fanaticsnail thank you for your patient encouragement 🙏🏻🖤 so much love for you
~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~
More than anything else, Mihawk was certain that the depths of his guilt were vast enough to have the breadth of the seas shrink to a mere droplet in their stead. He loves you so, so much, but his mind has been tormenting with thoughts he feels unforgivable. It started small; his fantasies of you started to latch onto that whiny, pathetic moan you’d let out when he grabbed you a bit too hard. He began to imagine himself purposefully digging his hands into you to leave bruises there, which then turned to smacking handprints into your skin. The thought of your ass red and bouncing with each hit had him cumming faster than he’d like to admit the first time it played behind his eyelids.
He began to get used to those ideas and started to get a little more… creative.  What would your neck and shoulders look like littered in bruises and bite marks? Would your moans be as whiny and pathetic if he tied your hands and feet to the corners of the bed, leaving you with no option but to struggle and beg? Maybe he could just tie your hands behind your back and use his grip on the rope to pull you back to him harder on each thrust. Maybe he’d grab you and move you around as he liked, overpowering any attempts to move on your own and eating up the high-pitched whines from the force. He’d hold you down and fuck you until any unease became begging, and begging became “too much!”.
Mihawk felt a feral place in his heart burn every time he spit filthy words at you in his dreams. Tucked away in his nightly unconscious entanglements, he claimed you as his whore, his cocksleeve, his slutty little love. Many claims came and went but they were always possessive and you were always perfect, just as you were in his waking life. The heart that held such devoted and worshiping love for you ached at the idea of calling you such insults, but they set his cock aching just as greatly and he felt as if he was splitting in two.
How could he want to treat you in such a way? Mihawk loves you. He loves you and you love him and you always treat him with ceaseless care and support and he repays you by cumming to the thought of hurting you? Would you run from him if you found out? You knew the power he held; you’d helped him wash off the stains of those foolish enough to challenge him many times. Surely you would flee if you knew that the wielder of such power held ill intent towards you.
No - ill intent wasn’t right. He couldn’t hold ill intent towards you if he tried. So what was this then? He didn’t want to hurt you but he wanted you to enjoy being hurt by him. He wanted you at his whims as far as he could press before any real damage could happen. He wanted to come at you, teeth bared against your throat, and have you respond by offering your jugular. He wanted you to take pleasure in being moved and taken by his charge. That was it then - he wanted to own and control. To dominate. But how could he ask that of you if it required such beastly treatment?
~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~
Mihawk’s hands on you have felt different. Normally, you could feel their comforting weight resting on your body or their firm press, born of the need to keep you held tight. You are still held but more by the will of gravity than Mihawk himself. Laying half draped over his body, as you are now, is one of your favorite ways to end the day. The unfamiliarity of his hands, though, will not let you find rest. Where is the sweet indulgence of fingers threading through your hair and scratching gently at your scalp? Where is the healing service of kneading fingertips releasing you from the aches of the day? Where is the steadfast protection of the grounding hold anchored to your hip?
In place of these daily devotions are the hesitant, whispering touches of a man you’ve never known. Your Mihawk has always been sure in his movements. That was certain from the very first touch - a tender grip on your fingers and lips at your knuckles, then a quick flip of his wrist so that lips could move to warm the inside of your wrist. Your Mihawk doesn’t know how to falter. He can wait and assess and test but none of that encompasses the way he shifts to shy away from your seeking touch. It happens incredibly slowly to hide from your notice, but you need his touch too much to overlook its retreat. Your body and heart take to it like roots to water, always reached out and ready to soak in the vitality it brings.
You lay and continue to wonder fruitlessly at the nature of the trailing fingertips moving from your shoulder to your elbow. The endless circling thoughts are wearing at you, and you snuggle your cheek further into his chest for comfort. At the feeling of his meager caress stuttering in response, you resolve to find and fix the problem immediately.
Lifting your head up, you seek Mihawk’s gaze. His head remains tilted away and his eyes remain shut despite the fact that he can definitely feel you staring at him. After giving him a few moments to do it on his own, you bring a hand to his chin and guide him to face you. You delicately trace the lines of his facial hair, which look extra sharp in the shadows cast by the warm lamplight. He opens his honey yellow eyes and circles them all around your face. He meets your gaze last.
“You’re hiding from me.” You state it as what you know it is; a fact.
“I do not hide-”
“Yes, you do,” you interrupt. “Every time you’re afraid to talk about something, you live in that head of yours.” You shift your hand to cradle his jaw, brushing your thumb lovingly across his cheek. “But, you’ve never pulled your presence from me too. You know we always figure it out, love. What has you like this?”
Mihawk closes his eyes again. Your answer is kept somewhere behind those lids. You wait for it to appear, but it seems less likely to happen with each passing second. 
“I miss you,” you whisper. The little warble that snuck into your voice twisted the pit in Mihawk’s chest. His eyes open to mirror the concern roiling in your own.
“I’m right here,” he says, finally using his hold to press your body into him. The gesture pleases you but not enough to distract you from the way his words weren’t reassuring; they were begging to be believed. You let him have some time to try and let his eyes speak to you when he could not. Deliberately deep and measured breaths set rhythm for the way his chest floats you like calm waves beneath a ship. Taking in his unspoken cues, you could only understand that he was putting in great effort to hold something back. The conflict you felt in him between the need to shield you and the need to comfort you set you on edge. What could he hold in himself that he thinks so catastrophic? What does he know that could cause you such harm?
“Mihawk, please,” you beg. Your plea works against you; his eyes and grip harden.
“No.” Mihawk maneuvers you off of himself and moves to get up. You chase right after him, trailing rumpled sheets behind you. He makes it two steps from your shared bed before you catch him, locking your arms around his waist. You burrow your face into the warm skin between his shoulder blades and press your body as close to him as you can, clinging desperately. He remains silent but his hands move to your wrists in warning.
“Don’t run from me,” you plead, throat tight to hold back the whimpers starting to build in your lungs. He’s never left you during an argument - he had said it’s because he couldn’t stand to leave you upset. This sudden change leaves you shaken, holding tight to him in the hope that he is still your greatest stability and comfort. He begins pulling your arms away. The distress you feel lets him.
Mihawk at least turns around to see the damage he has caused. You see his regret in wet eyes, bowed head, and caving shoulders. Contrition compels him to rub circles on the wrist he still holds and the affectionate gesture pulls the first tear from your eyes. He begins reaching to brush it away but instead pulls back, his hand curling into a fist at his side. In a quick burst of anger, you snatch that hand and push it to your face. You hold it there even after it opens to embrace your cheek, scared it’ll leave you again. Mihawk hates the tears wetting his thumb and the shakiness of your breath, feeling the weight of his guilt become unbearable in their stead. He shrinks into himself even further from the way your eyes have narrowed in accusation.
“Have I ever given you a reason not to trust me with your problems?” You bite out at him. He can no longer look at you, choosing to gaze unseeing at the floor instead. 
“No,” he mumbles like a child facing the rage from authority.
“Then what is wrong?” You press, voice turning from vicious to exasperated. “Whatever it is, I’m here for you. I love you, Mihawk, that won’t change! And I can help-”
“No you can’t!” He roars, snapping his head back up to bare his teeth at you. “You can’t help me! Not with this.”
Wide wet eyes stare back at him, shaken of their fight. Your lips tremble around stuttering breaths and his own angry breath puffs out into the small space between you. They’re all you can hear while you try to process his anger and the way his fingers begin to sink onto your wrist and jaw like claws. 
“I-I’m sorry,” you say, trying to get things back under control. “I shouldn’t have pressed so hard when you weren’t ready.” Mihawk scrunches his eyes shut and bears his teeth again.
“No. You don’t understand,” he starts. A deep breath flushes his whole body and rattles him on the way out. He’s staring right into you again. “I want to hurt you.”
Confusion strikes you before fear has a chance. “What?”
Both of Mihawk's hands are now cradling your face, and the pressure of his fingertips betrays the controlling nature of his hold. He steps in close so your bodies just barely brush and he looms his head and shoulders into your space. His golden eyes burn molten, looking down on you.
“I want to hurt you,” MIhawk repeats, beginning to stalk forward to force you backwards. “I want to grip you ‘til you bruise, bite and leave marks.” You simply listen and follow as he speaks and the relief of releasing his fantasies has the confessions rushing out of him. “I want to force you down and fuck you so hard you scream.” Your calves hit the bed and you sit down on it when his hands continue leading you back. Your easy compliance has his mind blurry and spinning, now beyond his own will. 
“I want to control your breath.” One hand clamps down next to your neck, shoving you quickly onto your back. Mihawk’s thumb presses threateningly into the base of your throat, not enough to halt your breath but enough for your veins to pound back against it. “I want to bend you over and watch your flesh tremble and burn red while I strike you.” His knees spread your legs wide, before he lifts one knee onto the bed, forcing your leg up with him. “I want to tie you like a captive and fuck you while you’re bound and have to take it.” His other knee is on the bed, making your other leg open up for him too. He’s hovering over you, letting some of his weight bleed into the grip beside your neck before releasing it. The hand moves to dig into your upper arm. Mihawk crawls forward into the middle of the bed, using that grip and his shoving thighs to drag you with him. “I want to own and command you.” 
You have never felt so small and exposed and it’s sending an addictive thrill through you. Your heart is pumping bubbling adrenaline through your veins, most of it moving to boil between your hips. Looking up at the fierceness of Mihawk is bringing back temptations you had locked away long ago. Your hands move to fist into your own shirt, too unsure to touch him but needing to hold onto something.
Despite his rough grip, the way Mihawk bends down to brush his forehead against yours is reverent. “I want you to let me touch you however I want, fuck you until I’ve had my fill, until neither of us can move.” His eyes close and his hold softens and his nose nudges yours. His breath is soft against your lips, smelling sweetly of the wine you shared over dessert. His voice loses its power and creaks with defeat. “I want to do so many awful things to you, but you’re my love - my life.”
You tilt your chin up to press a soft kiss against his lips. Mihawk stays still, simply letting you mold your lips to his, until his resolve breaks and he’s lunging forward to kiss you ravenously. He’s in immediate control of the kiss, needing to take everything he can from you while you’re still willing to love him. His hand moves to the side of your head, helping guide you to follow his frantic movements. You’re immediately lost in the heat of his touch and tongue, relieved to receive his affections again. Needing to feel more of him, you brush your thighs against his, your skin sliding easily against his silk sleep pants. When your thighs make it over his hips and you feel the muscles of his sides tickling the insides of your knees, you hook your legs around him. He fights you when you try to pull him down.
“Dear heart,” Mihawk manages to say between tasting you, “I should not.”
“You should,” you gasp back against his lips. Your kissing has grown to match his in hunger, filling him with joy and guilt. Another light squeeze of your legs fails to bring him down to you. This time he pulls away to look at you, eyes shining with conflict.
“I do not deserve-” You cut him off by using the strength of your legs to pull your hips up to meet his. The thin silk he wears does nothing to hide the shape and warmth of his hard cock. You earn a low moan from him when you grind against it. Trying not to fold to your temptations, Mihawk keeps on his hands and knees while you hang off of him.
“I want you,” you assert, “And you want me.” You grind along his whole length to emphasize your point. Your thighs burn with the effort, but the way his eyes flutter at the bliss makes it worth it. “And I-” you pause and swallow, stealing yourself. “I want all that too.”
“What?” Mihawk asks urgently. He grabs your chin, keeping you centered on him.
“I want all of that stuff too,” you say, letting yourself fall from him and back to the comfort of the mattress. He’s still staring at you with the unreadable, analytical face he usually saves for opponents, so you elaborate. “Your control. You own my heart, why not the rest of me?”
“And the harm?” he prompts bitterly. Not wanting him to pull away, you smooth your hands into his hair and massage at his scalp, trapping him to you in the gentlest way possible.
“That too,” you admit quietly. Your body flushes hot again, but this time with shame. “There were times when I would see your fierceness in battle and find myself more attracted than I should be. The first year we were together it was unbearable and I would fantasize about what it would be like to feel the force of your strength and will on me.”  Mihawk’s breath halts and his face slackens. His hand releases your chin to brush fingertips across your cheek in awe. “I’d dream of you throwing me around, commanding me, punishing me. I got myself to stop over time because wanting something like that? I mean, there must be something wrong with me.”
“Never,” Mihawk growls. “You’re perfect.”
He descends on you and all you know of the world shrinks down to only Mihawk. Grasping hands rove over the both of you, pulling at hair and clothes and flesh. This time his hips are chasing yours, lighting your nerves on fire at the pressure of his grinds sinking your hips into the mattress. Your canting moans are muffled by his lips and tongue, but he hears them all the same and feasts on them greedily. One of his hands finds its home at the back of your head, fisted into your hair. You let out a high whine when he pulls back and holds you still.
“You will tell me if I do something you don’t like,” Mihawk commands. Unable to speak with the way the head of his dick is teasing your clit, you nod your head. “Words,” he growls, tightening his grip on your hair.
“Yes, my lord!” you answer, half gasping, half moaning. The pull on your hair relents and his fingers massage your scalp, soothing it.
“And you will tell me to stop if it becomes too much,” he continues, watching your face intently to make sure you’re truly hearing him and understanding what you’re agreeing to. He also needs to soak you in to make sure this is real, that you really want this. You focus in on the violent yellow of his eyes, taking in the seriousness and desperation you see in them.
“Yes, my lord,” you breathe out. 
His lips cheat you of your next breath, but you don’t have the will to care. Everything of yours is his anyway. You’re just relaxing into the kiss when he’s pulling away to sit up. 
“Get off the bed,” he orders. You only hesitate a moment before crawling your way to the foot of the bed and standing up from it. You turn to look at him for more direction, hands fiddling with the hem of your shirt while you wait. The way his eyes roam over you, assessing you, does little for your nerves; you feel like an unprepared student. 
Mihawk turns and gets up from the side of the bed. He prowls over to you, taking his time to unsettle you further. The way his tall form slinks over to you treats you to a show of the shapes of his sloped muscles cutting lines across his body. His Adonis belt in particular catches your attention, on full display by the low rise of his pants. You shudder in anticipation when you follow those lines to the large bulge between them. It keeps your attention until he is stopped in front of you and you trail your gaze up to meet his neutral face. You know him well enough to notice the desire darkening his eyes. He leans his upper body forward, forcing you to crane your head back to maintain eye contact.
“Undress me.”
You fall to your knees, looking up at him while you sneak your fingers into his waistband. Slowly, you lower his pants down his thighs. You miss the way his cock bobs in front of your face when it’s freed, unable to look away from his eyes staring into your own. You let the pants fall when you reach his knees and place your hands on his warm thighs. Still looking to him, you begin smoothing your hands up his legs. Feeling emboldened by touching him, you look down to take in his length. While Mihawk may look unaffected, the truth shows in the flushed and leaking cock in front of you. A thick vein on the underside tempts you to lick it, but when you lean forward a punishing hand holds you by the hair. 
“I didn’t give you permission,” Mihawk warns. The way you look up at him with big contrite eyes has his cock twitching but does nothing to change his resolve.
“I’m sorry, my lord.” You get no response except his hand petting down your head and gently cupping your cheek. He leaves you waiting a few breaths while his palm warms your cheek and your eyes soften his.
“Undress yourself.”
Your hands drift slowly from his hips to the hem of your shirt. In a smooth motion you lift it over your head, only losing eye contact when there’s fabric between the two of you, and lay it on the floor next to you. Your thumbs hook into your underwear, holding their position while you stand up to rid yourself of them. Despite your nudity, his eyes stick to your own.
“Back on the bed.”
Mihawk watches you while you crawl onto the mattress, enraptured by the way your ass sways back and forth as you move. The teasing peaks he gets of your pussy as you move test his resolve to take his time commanding you before he sinks into you. When you get to the head of the bed he notices you hesitate, staying still on hands and knees before peeking over your shoulder for direction. The way you look to him, pleading for guidance, has his heart pounding and his mind running feral. He reels it in with a slow breath.
“On your back. You need to be able to look at me for now.” You follow his command, ending up propped on your elbows with your bent legs acting as a barrier between you two. Mihawk has seen you naked almost daily for a handful of years, but you find yourself feeling shy and exposed. This is a deep fantasy finally coming to fruition for the both of you, and what if the real you doesn’t measure up?
“Spread yourself.” You shiver at the command, absolutely dripping from the hunger rumbling in his voice. You look down to your knees and falter, worrying at being completely exposed to his voracious gaze.
“Precious,” he calls, bringing your eyes back up to him. His face is still stern but there is a touch of gentleness in his voice when he softly prompts, “Go on.”
Choosing to focus on your most beloved yellow to ground yourself, you slowly spread your legs apart. They end up in a wide v, still propped bent with your feet planted in the soft sheets. 
“Good girl,” he purrs. Mihawk takes his time admiring the curves of your spread legs before he can no longer keep his gaze from your exposed cunt. He admires those curves and lines too and is flooded with delicious memories of having his face stuffed there. Fresh heat washes from his chest to his cock, and he has to swallow from the way his mouth waters. 
Your previous worries leave you when you see how Mihawk looks at you. He’s a man possessed, taken and corrupted in the face of immeasurable riches. You see the men of myth, who scheme and steal under the noses of angry gods, in his face. That look of his snaps up to your face and you turn into prey. You love the way it has you feeling so alive.
Mihawk finally makes his way over to you. He takes his time, letting you feel each shift in the mattress from the weight of his limbs. It gives you time to feel smaller and smaller as he overtakes you, overwhelming you as his broad shoulders get higher and higher over your body, enclosing you between him and the bed. Strong arms plant themselves on each side of your head, caging you into his dark gaze. His handsome face, haloed by dark curls, looks striking in the dim lamplight, his sharp features casting shadows across pale skin. You can’t resist the call to reach up and caress him. 
“Did I say you could touch me yet?” Mihawk growls, snatching each of your hands from his face. The threat in his tone and the forceful grip squeezing your wrists has bright adrenalin bursting in your chest and tingling in your limbs. He presses your hands down in the sheets next to your hips and releases them as he tells you, “Lay on them.”
Hesitantly, you arch your back and clasp your hands together in the new gap. When you lower onto them, you scrunch your nose at the uncomfortable feeling of your knuckles rubbing into your spine. Mihawk notices and gives you a disapproving look. He places a spread hand on your stomach and presses down, making your knuckles and spine roll over each other. He keeps some pressure there; a reminder of your disobedience.
Your hands grip hard into each other when Mihawk finally lowers his hips flush to yours. The feeling of hot skin is such a relief to your frazzled nerves and pleading pussy. His dick fits perfectly within your folds, rubbing deliciously through them as he ruts against you. There’s no distracting pinch or catch; you’re wet enough to cover him and spread over any skin he touches. A shiver shakes up Mihawk’s spine at the feeling of you clenching around nothing against the base of his cock. He’s treated to the sweet sounds of your whimpers and moans, pulling especially delightful ones from you each time he angles to circle more firmly around your clit.
“Please, sir,” you whine, “I need you inside me.”
“Such a greedy whore,” Mihawk chides, tone so condescending it almost sounds bored. You whimper back to him, but he catches the way your hips twitch and press more firmly to him. He takes pity on you and gives in to his own needs to feel you around him.
Mihawk is big but it was never a problem because he enjoyed taking his time when pleasing you, so the prepping happened naturally by the time he was ready to make his way inside you. Today though, Mihawk finds himself overcome with the need to force you open when he shoves two fingers in and feels you clenching tight around them. He spreads those long fingers to press against your plush wet flesh and keeps pressing as he slides them back out. His fingers move to hold his cock, which is soaked from grinding into you and the precum he’d been uncontrollably leaking, and line him up with your entrance. He starts pushing into you immediately, groaning at how you clamp down tight in surprise. 
The way your breath hiccups as he keeps inching his way into you has his mind spinning. He bites into his cheek to keep himself from bottoming out in one brutal thrust; he wants to feel every flutter and twitch of your cunt and body as they try to accommodate him. He needs you to feel every second of him taking ownership of your body, needs you to feel how much more powerful he is. Wet fingers dig into the meat of your hip as he tries to hold himself back. You feel the sweet mix of the smooth slide of every ridge on his cock playing at your nerves and the burn of your muscles stretching almost too far. You surrender fully to your trust in him, releasing all tension from your muscles and all thoughts from your head. 
“Much better,” Mihawk breathes against your lips. He stares deep into your eyes and watches them become fully dilated and hazy. You stare right back and give him a lethargic smile for the praise. The rush of giving up control while he takes your body leaves your brain and body feeling like liquid. You almost move to touch him again, but his words are the only things still held in your mind.
Mihawk pulls back slowly, treasuring the way your body tries to suck him back in. You get halfway through an inhale before a quick thrust knocks all the air from your lungs. The satisfying clap of his hips on your ass ricochets through you. You get a chance to breathe when he stays deep in you and circles his hips to feel every inch and detail of your pulsing cunt. Overwhelmed, you whimper, “Mihawk-”
“Not my name,” he snaps. His hand flies up to your mouth and shoves two fingers in, pressing the taste of yourself into your tongue. You suck on them, looking up with apologetic eyes, hoping to placate him. It doesn’t work. “And to think I was giving you time to adjust.”
That’s all the warning you get before he sets a rough pace, each impact bouncing through your body, shaking your thighs, hips, and breasts. You shut your eyes against the onslaught, each nerve screaming its pleasure at you loudly. You feel unbearably full of Mihawk but also unable to feel enough of him. You need him in your hands, on your tongue, ringing in your ears, pulling you apart. The closest you can do now is tilt your hips up to feel him even deeper and offer more room for his hips to rub your skin at the end of each thrust.
When he feels your thighs squeeze tight to his waist, Mihawk falls to his elbows under the instinct to curl into you. With frenzied motions, he readjusts his forearms to be beside your chest, pressing your upper arms into your ribs. His hands clamp down on your shoulders, keeping you trapped against each pound of his thick cock into you. His claim on you flushes through your veins and seeps into your bones. Your mouth, now free, hangs open to pant and moan for him. His forehead presses to your temple so he can feel your breath deliver each sound directly to his ear, persuading him further and further from sanity. His lips hovering so close to you lets you hear his own harsh breath and hushed groans. 
“My lord, sir, please,” you beg, needing more from him but too lost to say how. You know he’ll figure out what you need, he’ll take care of you, push you as far as you can go before you snap and become pure pleasure. 
“Fuck, treasure,” Mihawk moans, hot breath tingling on your neck, “just be my good cocksleeve - lay there and take it.”
He switches his rhythm, starting to pull out slower to draw out his time in the grip of your cunt. Each push into you is still punishing, taking advantage of his curve to shove the head of his dick across your g spot. The steady hammering has pressure building between your hips quickly. “Sir -hah- I’m so -nngaaaah- ‘s so good I’m -hahnn- my lord -aah-” you continue babbling pleading nonsense to him, trying to let him know how close you are.
Mihawk can tell even without you senseless moaning; your thighs have begun to tremble and jump and you get impossibly tighter with each thrust and he’s sure he’s found heaven in your cunt. His face buries in your neck, sucking harshly at your delicate skin and savoring the light flavor of salt on his tongue. His teeth begin to come into play, worrying against little sections of your neck, mixing a sweet sting into the flurry of pleasure surging to your head. He feels you tip your hips away from him and wiggle in his grip, trying to hold off your orgasm so you can cum when he does and he hates it. 
“Don’t run from me,” he snarls, snapping his right hand to grip the back of your neck. You obey immediately, but sob out at the overwhelming pressure pulsing behind your clit. The sound has Mihawk’s balls pulling tight and his cock pulsing but he’s chasing your orgasm, not his. He wants to feel the violence of it being forced out of you. His left hand moves down your back, fingers dug deep into muscle the whole way, and covers your clasped hands with his own. Mihawk licks up the side of your neck to nibble your earlobe. His tone is biting when he taunts, “Cumming already little whore?” and you’re gone.
He manages to keep his pace through your orgasm, each press of his cock making another wave of bliss crash through you. High moans knock from you in time with his hips, but you're deaf to them from the buzzing between your ears. His cock twitches hard in the threat of release, and he bites down meanly into the meat of your shoulder to muscle his way through it. The feeling of you trapped beneath him, legs clinging to him in desperation while you cum is better than any of his fantasies have granted. Through your settling fog, you feel deep moans vibrating into your shoulder through Mihawk’s teeth.
“Thank you, sir,” you rasp, “feels so good.” Teeth release from your shoulder and thrusts become circling grinds.
“Ah but you were supposed to be making me feel good, weren’t you?” Mihawk chides. He licks his burning hot tongue over his bite mark, pleased with how deep the indents are.
“Sorry, my lord,” you whine pathetically, “I couldn’t -hahn- couldn’t help myself.”
Mihawk turns to nip at your jaw before hovering his face above yours. His piercing eyes narrow down at you as he mocks, “Oh, poor you.”
He’s detaching from you, getting up onto hands and knees, leaving you empty. Your eyes widen in panic and you almost reach for him. Instead, all you can do is whimper at him while he pulls your legs from around his waist and hope your sad eyes will entice him back. Mihawk takes them in with a twinge of remorse, but mostly they send arousal shooting through him. At first, he thought of rewarding you for keeping your hands still and letting your legs go limp while he maneuvered them, but he wanted to push you more first.
“Flip over. Chest down, ass up.”
You blink twice to process his words then get to work. Your movements are sluggish and sloppy, your muscles still recovering from your orgasm. Seeing how weak you’ve become from his touch has Mihawk resisting the urge to surge at you again. The sway of your movements causes your ass to wag in front of him and he’s glad you can’t see the way his jaw slackens at the sight. You look divine - no, more like sin incarnate. Your lax muscles cause your upper body to sag fully into the bed, making your ass arch obscenely high in the air. Your tired face is buried in your arms and the sheets. The display has his mouth watering and he can hardly tear his eyes away from your glistening pussy peeking out between your thighs.
“So perfect,” Mihawk purrs, reaching a hand out to touch you. You jump slightly at the first touch then relax into it, humming appreciatively. He massages his thumbs into the curve where your ass meets your thighs. When you ease into that touch, gently swaying with the oscillating pressure, he slides his large palms onto your skin. For a short while, he simply takes greedy handfuls of you, switching and shifting his grip so that every bit of your ass and hips have been squeezed. Your lax body continues to follow his hands as his lovely marionette.
“Since you’ve forgotten the one reason you’re in my bed, I’ll have to take my pleasure from your punishment instead,” Mihawk drawls. He wastes no time delivering the first smack onto the thickest part of your ass. You jolt with it even though it was barely a fraction of his strength, just barely enough to sting.  The warmth of his palm settling over the sparking skin soothes any hurt into pleasant tingles. You’re beginning to mourn the fading of the feeling when his opposite hand strikes your other cheek just as hard. This time you gasp and arch your ass higher, forcing Mihawk to take a deep breath to keep his steady pace.
“Careful now or I might think you’re enjoying this,” Mihawk chastises. Beneath his flat tone, he’s positively bursting with excitement. He had worried that you only thought you would be okay with this, but you’re leaning your hips towards him just as eagerly as you do the days he spends hours unraveling you on his face, fingers, and cock. There’s a buzz settling under his skin that’s making every touch feel so sharply in focus. You let out a slightly embarrassed wine, but continue to display yourself to him shamelessly, begging for more.
A harsher smack stings your right cheek, sending ripples down your leg and up your side. You shiver at the burst of brilliant sensation. In anticipation for the next one, you shorten your breath, feeling on edge that you have no clue when it’s coming. The air of the room is electric as it brushes against the goosebumps on your body, vibrating with threat and promise. A breath too long passes with the hand gone and you tense up, immediately receiving a strike to the left in response. It rattles through your bones more with the tensed muscle, knocking the air from you in a loud moan. Your already burning flesh is struck over again, tripling the number of pin pricks you can feel dancing under his hand. You moan, “Sir!”
“Is that all you can take, precious?” Mihawk’s tone is just a touch gentler. He’s smoothing his palms over your marked skin, unable to stop his need to keep touching you. Staring down dark eyed at the first budding handprint, he desperately hopes you’ll let him make more. He’s barely got himself held back as it is now that he knows that sting on his palm, the sight of your ass shaking, the sharp clapping sound, your gasps and moans, the rush of absolute control. His breath is shaking with the need to overwhelm you and fill himself with as much of you as he can shove in his nerves.
“No,” you promise. You shuffle your knees just an inch closer to your chest and give an enticing wiggle of your hips. “More, please, my lord.”
“Good whore,” Mihawk groans. His hand digs into the flesh of your left hip and his right delivers two sharp slaps, each punctuated by a moan from you. You feel the hits fizzle in your skin and echo in a wanting burn rolling through your cunt. Your used pussy already felt swollen but now that’s amplified by bright pounding, feeling like your heart has fled your chest to beat between your legs. A thumb digs and swirls into the center of the bubbling handprint on your skin before disappearing again. You expect another hit, but instead you feel two thick fingers slipping through your entrance, causing you to moan long in relief. You greet them by eagerly pressing your hips backwards, trying to get his fingers to sink in deeper. Mihawk stops at the last knuckle and offers you two indulgent grinds of his hand before it rests still.
“Pleeeease,” you whine. Mihawk responds by adding another handprint to your ass, this time on the left side. His mind is swirling with the sound of your eager squeal, but he’s truly lost at the feeling wrapped around his fingers. He can feel the power of his own hit through you but it is the strong pulsing of your cunt that really makes his hips jerk with want. Mihawk presses his fingers down towards your belly button, seeking the way your pussy trembles with each successive spank. His punishing hand and your body’s spasms have his fingers hooked and twitching over your g-spot and you can feel another climax start to build with each throb of your clit.
“You were made for me weren’t you, treasure?” Mihawk asks, voice tight with desire. Time and time again, his mind has played out the dream of you under him like this but it never could have prepared him for the rush of you getting off to it just as badly. Seeing you become a needy wreck for his strength and will has his heart pounding and cock aching near painfully. He wets his lips and swallows, barely holding back from replacing his fingers with his tongue to taste just how sweetly you’re dripping for him. 
You cry out when his fingers leave you, earning a lighter smack to your hip in warning. You claw into the sheets in frustration but aren’t left wanting for long; fingers reenter you and your neglected right side gets groped. His hand massages deep, helping you loosen up again and enjoy the feeling of his fingers on both hands digging into you. Mihawk marvels at the sheen on your flesh where his fingers smeared the wetness from your leaking cunt. He can’t help but leave a harsh strike right on top of the wet patch. With the encouragement of your panting and moaning and writhing, he continues on, making you feel boiling hot and boneless. 
At this point you’ve begun grinding back on his fingers, fucking yourself back onto them shallowly, afraid that anything more obvious would have him pull them out for good this time. That fear is more instinct at this point than an actual thought; your mind feels like soup and you only know how to feel and react. It’s becoming clear to Mihawk from the way your voice strains higher and your body squeezes down on him that you’ve got a strong climax building in your core. All you can recognize is more and more pressure gripping through your hips and more and more delicious friction earned with each curl back on his fingers.
Suddenly, that friction is gone.
“Nooooooo, no si-hah-irrrr,” you sob. You’re set adrift with the coil tightening in you beginning to unwind. There’s a hand holding each hip but it’s not stabilizing you at all.
“Be good for me, precious,” Mihawk warns, removing his left hand to tap his finger above your clit. It sends unhelpful jolts through your skin, teasing the nerves you need him to smother.
“I’ll be good, sir, promise, promise,” you cry. The way you move and arch your ass in an attempt to earn his touch back is obscene and has Mihawk's hand planting bruises into your hip. You twist your neck to show him one teary eye over your shoulder. “I’m yours, my lord, pleeeeeease. I’ll do anything!”
“Anything?” he presses. His voice is just above a whisper, unwilling to interrupt any of the gasps and whines coming from you. You nod fervently. “Then don’t cum.”
Three fingers shove into you, slightly curled and thrusting with the force you’ve been begging for. The wet sounds from each dive of his fingers fill the air between your pants and moans. Mihawk’s arm hooks around your right thigh so he can start steady swirls of his fingers over your clit, timing them perfectly with the thrusts from his other hand. He tries to resist the urge to bend even closer to you, but he’s helpless to the pull. You feel the thick hair on his jaw brush over your right hip. The loving caress is soon replaced by warm lips and nipping teeth, adding even more sparks to the fire he’s tending in you. 
It’s feeling more impossible by the second to obey Mihawk. The muscles in your legs want to curl and lock up and your hips are shaking against Mihawk’s hold. You’re open mouthed and pleading, not quite sure what words are actually coming out, just sure that you have no ability to keep any of them in. Your hands are clawing into the mattress, hoping to find some purchase to center yourself. The rhythmic bursts of pleasure that Mihawk is diligently working from you are so strong you’re not quite sure if you’ve tipped into cumming yet except there’s been no promised snap.
Mihawk is unmeasured in the way he bites and sucks at your flesh, but his hands are another story. He knows your body - has studied your reactions for years - and uses that to slow and lighten just enough each time a wave of pressure around his fingers gets a little too strong or your writhing stills to a tremble half a second too long. Instead of pulling you back or pushing you forward, he keeps you exactly at the edge of climax where he can actually test your will. He’s hard set on knowing how hard you’re going to try to obey him, the thought and sight of your struggle for him filling him with addicting arousal.
Your will over your body is just about to give out so you snap your teeth into the meat of your thumb to pull some attention away from the bliss of Mihawk’s touch. His attention goes up to see the bite when he hears the pitiful moan sneaking past your clenched teeth. He moans deeply at the site. “You’re being so good for me, fuck.” He presses his cheek hard into the burning handprints on your ass and unconsciously mimics the grinding of your hips with his own, finding no relief for himself. One more uptick in force and speed into your plush swollen pussy has you jerking. With digging teeth and a yelling moan into your hand, you manage to hold back against the raging tide of your orgasm.
Mihawk pulls from you and you collapse against the bed, taking in gasping breaths. You’re jostled as Mihawk shifts around quickly, moving to cover you. His breath is loud behind you as he settles there, legs stretched out between your and upper body help up only on his left elbow. That hand has shoved under you to flip around and grip your shoulder tight. His right hand anchors on your hip, guiding you back against his starved grinding.
“You did so well for me, my little whore,” Mihawk breathes into your ear. He nibbles at it before moving down to suck more red marks into your neck and shoulder. The slick way his cock glides through your folds has him burn with satisfaction. He made this pathetic mess of you. Having you soaking for him was no rarity, but the whiny mindlessness, the complete take over by your needy instincts, that was new and only had his need to tear into you grow stronger. He rumbles into your shoulder, “My perfect precious cunt, cum as much as you want.”
Mihawk is guiding himself into you and you shoot right back to being so close after only a few thrusts. You manage to slide your legs a little wider apart across the bed despite his heavy body, packed with muscle, pinning you under him.. It lets his balls tap at your clit with each thrust and just a handful more have a violent orgasm tearing through you. You cry out your bliss every moment you aren’t simply gasping and feel the muscles all the way up your core join the squeeze of your cunt, making the bright ball of pleasure feel like it’s reaching just as high. Your whole body is ringing with the echoes of it, everything feeling so overwhelmingly good.
Mihawk’s hips stutter for only a second before he’s continuing his ruthless pace. His body and mind are flooded with you and he folds to the torrent. A ravenous “more” is mumbled against your skin, barely reaching you through the whiteout in your head. His left hand shoots down to help keep your hips tilted and steady, leaving the weight of his chest to push you deeper into the bed. You’re completely smothered in him, his sweat damp skin pressing and sliding over yours. Unable to fully inhale under his resting bulk, your world gets a little fuzzier. There’s not a single part of you that cares; you feel trapped and controlled and protected and desired. You feel truly wanted and owned, being fucked into the matress under Mihawk while he holds you like a lifeline, sinks teeth into your shoulder, and speaks dark praises to you. When you come back to yourself more fully, having long been suspended somewhere between the crest of your orgasm and settled pleasure, you make little attempts to please Mihawk more. He notices the little turns and grinds of your hips and rewards you by slithering a hand under you to begin petting circles over your clit.
“You feel delicious, precious, you’re so fucking good, held out for me so long.” Mihawk’s voice is a moan and growl and sigh, sounding more untethered than you’d ever heard him. “Need to feel you forever -nnnnnghh- give me more.” The last word is all snarl and he’s shoving his face harder into the crook of your neck, sinking teeth back into your skin.
You aren’t sure if you have more to give him but still try, unquestioningly following his will. You don’t think you’ll need to try for long; both of you are wound precariously tight. Mihawk has lost his will to pull from you, so he moves against you in strong deep grinds. You’ve never felt closer; every sense is filled with Mihawk, every breath, every thought, every piece of you. It feels like he’s fucking you deeper than he’s ever reached, teasing your cervix with his thick tip, pulling you apart as if he’s somehow gotten bigger from the way your muscles have tightened around him. Mihawk feels the telltale buzz of his end flash through his nerves. Desperate, he bites out one more order, “You’re mine. Say it.”
You find the breath to chant, “I’m yours, I’m yours, yours-”
One arm shoves upwards, trapped tight between your breasts and crushing you back into him. He groans out, “Fuck, precious,” before his hips jerk and his cock is pulsing in you. His forehead presses to the side of your head and he’s moaning right into your ear. Fingers twitch against your clit and you feel his hot cum pumping into you and his arms cage you right to him and the friction of it all sends you right into another climax. This one is just as overwhelming as the last but sits in your body more smoothly. It’s a satisfied heat radiating through your muscles, rolling through you instead of jerking. You fall limp under the force of it, left to lay prone and take in every second of your body clutching and reshaping to Mihawk. He guides you both through it with the slow grind of his hips and the points of clarity where his hands grasp you.
“There you go, love, you are divine,” Mihawk praises quietly, as the aftershocks begin to settle out of you both. He gets his arms under him to lift some of his weight off of you and allow you to breathe deeply. He noses at your cheek, peppering you with kisses. You come back to your body slowly as he moves his kisses over the tender skin of your neck and shoulder. Testing the feeling, you open and close your hands, releasing the scrunched sheets. They feel inflated and clumsy, but it will do. Your right hand searches behind your head and quickly finds its way into Mihawk’s soft hair. You scratch lightly at his scalp while your other hand slides across the sheet to find his. Before you manage it, he puts his hand over your own, entwining your fingers in a comfortable hold. Mihawk rests his head behind yours, taking some time to breathe and bask in your touch. He decorates the passing moments with gentle praises, content sighs, and brushing thumbs.
Eventually, he gains the will to pull away from you to prep you both for bed. The moan you give him when he starts to pull away is endearingly grumpy like a spoiled pet roused from a nap. He’s just standing up when he notices your weak and begrudging attempts to get up and follow him.
“Stay down - you’re shaking like a newborn fawn.” The light insult is softened by a loving kiss to your temple. You’re more than used to his dry tone and direct comments anyway, knowing something like that had no cruel intent and that’s simply how he talked. That didn’t stop you from pretending to be a bit upset from time to time for apology affection. You’re pretty certain he was onto you. You were also pretty sure he enjoyed playing along.
You float thoughtlessly in your body, feeling like you’re napping pleasantly without going under. You startle when a hand lands on your shoulder. It’s hot and damp and you understand why when a soft cloth begins washing over your skin. Continuing your heavy-bodied haze, you lay there and let Mihawk wipe over your whole body, only moving to the patient prompts of his hands nudging and turning you. You wince when he works over your ass and pelvis, earning extra affectionate words and touches. You’re on your back, peeking up blearily at him through heavy eyelids, when he finishes up.
“Bathroom?” he prompts and you hum a lazy affirmative. You’re carried like a princess to and from the short stop and are thankful there’s no longer anything to keep you from or possibly interrupt your coming slumber. When you’re placed back onto the bed, Mihawk follows you with the sheets and comforter in tow. With practiced ease, you cocoon together in the bedding. On nights like this, where Mihawk has extra need to feel like he’s surrounding you, he pulls your back flush to his front and curls around you. His skin feels soft on the many places you’re molded together, but you notice it most while you both shift your legs to intertwine. 
“Dove?” Mihawk calls, wanting to know you can still hear him. You hum and snuggle your cheek further into his bicep. “I love you,” he whispers into your hair, punctuating the declaration with a lingering kiss.
“Love you, too,” you promise, adding one last gentle squeeze to your hold on his arm.
Tomorrow he would wake you with gentle kisses and caressing hands. Your favorite morning drink would be ready for you to sip on while leaned back against his chest, enjoying the way he massages the soreness from your thighs. A bath with your favorite salts would await your tired body. Mihawk would sit with you and feed you both fruits and sweet bread. Once the candles saturate the air, he would set about cleaning you head to toe. He would gently tend each bruise and bite mark, murmuring his gratitude and devotion. Each act of loving worship would be a balm to you both, affirming that connecting to and caring for each other is both your greatest want and deepest need. For now, you settle into each other for some much needed rest.
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tang3r1n · 1 month
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chubby darling sitting and rambling abt anatomy and how insane the human body is, literally talking so animatedly while her obsessor is just sitting there like ‘oh i’m gonna fuck her so hard once she shuts the fuck up’
my picks; EREN, jean, erwin, ymir, PORCO (aot), aizawa, DABI, mature tomura, momo, katsuki(?), izuku, mr compress, spinner, HAWKS, miruko (mha), ushijima, IWAZUMI, KUROO, kageyama, tsukkishima, aone (haikyuu), GOJO FUCKING SATORU, toji, nanami(?), miguel, i rly wanna say megumi, maki, heian sukuna, TODO AOI, and fuck it inumaki too (jjk), ROANOA ZORO, robin, sanji, sir croc, FUCKING LAW HED GEEK W YOU, uhhh luffy, kidd, penguin, coby (op) WHITNEY, c.sydney, alex, avery(?? iffy), rrrrobin?? (dol), plus all ur favorites <3
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cherryxblossxms · 2 months
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🔞 Riding Buggy but he's so fucking loud, wailing and whining and moaning like some kind of broken siren. Half of it is moans, and the other half is broken babbling telling you to keep going, how good you feel around his dick, how close he is to bursting, how he wishes he could just fuck you like this every day instead of pillaging. As he gets closer to cumming, his volume only gets worse, his grunts and moans making a filthy symphony with the rocking of the bed and the wet sound of bouncing on his dick.
You can feel the way he's rock hard inside you, his hands gripping your hips so tightly that you know you'll be bruised tomorrow, and the way his eyes are starting to roll back tells you he's close. No doubt he's going to scream his head off when he cums, and as much as you know he's the captain and the crew would never bring up his... activities to his face, you also prefer not to be the subject of hot gossip for the next few weeks. Just as you're feeling close as well, your position makes it easy to slap a hand down across his mouth, immediately muffling his wanton sounds.
Whether it's just your timing or the fact Buggy loves it when you force him to be quiet, he's quick to cum right after, practically exploding inside you. Just the feel of his hot seed and the thought of him emptying his balls in you sets off your own climax, your bounces stuttering as your body clamps down on him, quickly settling into grinding your hips instead to ride out your climax. Even muffled, the pitch of his whines reaches a new level, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he feels you milk him, moving into overstimulation faster than usual, but he'd rather kill someone than pull out of your heat just yet.
The silence afterward is almost deafening, now only filled with the sounds of heavy breathing as you both struggled to catch your breath, his mouth now freed of your hand. Neither of you are willing to move just yet, limbs limp and his cock still plugging you up, though the sweat is making you stick to each other. The desire to just stay like this for hours is tempting, hopeful that your captain's noisy tendencies didn't make it outside his room, but a soft knock on Buggy's cabin door puts an end to that thought.
"Uh, Captain? Sorry for... i-interruptin', but there's something we need you for," a timid, clearly scandalized voice says through the wood.
All Buggy can do is give you a sheepish look, his cheeks turning a ruddy color much like his nose. You were going to have to invest in some much more effective soundproofing measures...
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elaenim · 11 months
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Oni prince
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pastelclovds · 5 months
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arlong acting all tough in front of his crew and pulling reader aside to have “a word with them” in his chambers. but his facade melts away the moment you lock the door and sit on one of his large couches with your pants down. arlong’s crew would never believe their eyes if they saw the glorious scene of their ruthless captain riding your cock like a beast until you gave him the baby you promised to gift him.
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thevirtualvalentine · 8 months
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TAPE ONE : PIZZA DELIVERY !
Starring… PORTGAS D. ACE 📸
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SET SCRIPT :
“Hi hi hi!!! For the follower request event, can i get a pizza delivery Ace? Sweet boy, kinda clueless, and a sweet reader as well? 🥹❤️”
MATURE WARNING(S) : unprotected penetrative sex, cheesy porno dialogue, cunnilings (you sit on his face), slight breeding kink if you squint, afab/fem reader, Ace thinks you’re really pretty, thick!dick ace (canon), switchy!ace, & he calls you “sweetheart/pretty girl.”
DIRECTORS CUT : for my love @kingofthe-egirls !!! I loved this prompt so much and have been itching to complete it since I saw it. Thank you for requesting, hope you enjoy. 🖤
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A Friday night with nothing to do, a product of boredom. You didn’t feel like doing anything tonight, especially cooking. Sitting in your apartment in shorts too tiny for your ass and a tight tank top, waiting for your pizza delivery.
Getting your usual favorite combo from the local shop guarantees a good comfort meal with some quiet TV before you head to bed. The couch offers you adequate back support after a long week at your desk, sighing and falling into the cushions while ads play in the background as ambiant noise.
Time slips you before there’s a series of knocks at your door, playing a rhythm as you’re pulled from your trance. “Yo, Delivery.”
Checking the peep hole before unlocking the door you’re faced with the cutest delivery boy. He’s in shitty combat boots and cargo shorts matched with a half buttoned uniform shirt. His long wavy black hair kept under a hat as he reads the receipt, “a large pizza for y/n?” You open the door wider as you step into frame. “Ohhh, for miss pretty y/n,” he corrects himself, tipping his hat at you with a smile.
Giggling slightly you cover your mouth, “yeah, y/n. Thank you so much, let me get my wallet.” You wish you could invite such a cutie inside but you know it’s against better judgement. Turning around you make your way through the apartment looking for your wallet.
Ace, the delivery boy, grins watching your dainty ass sway as you saunter back inside. Tiny shorts riding up between your cheeks as you bend over the counter, but he’s just the delivery boy. A distressed look crosses your face before you walk back to the doorway where he’s leaning. One arm holding your pizza and another flexing as he rests his weight into it.
“Everythin’ ok?” A pretty girl like you should never have such a perturbed look spread across your face like that.
You lean forward, studying his name tag. “I’m sorry Ace, I can’t seem to find my wallet. I must’ve left it at work.” Feeling like an idiot you’re barely able to look at him. The guilt of making him come all the way from across town to deliver your order setting in.
“I can help ya find it,” he offers, ignoring the fact he’s on the clock. It’s not the first time something like this has happened at work, just not to someone so enticing.
“No no,” biting your lip as you try to think of a solution that’ll remedy the situation. You look at him, worried to find an annoyed expression on his face but you heat up finding such a soft handsome gaze thrown your way. A complete stranger so bothered by your troubles. “How bout I pay you back? Whaddya say?”
Confused, he tilts his head; was that not the problem in the first place? “How,” he asks curiously.
Looking into the hallway, you check down both ends before tugging him inside by the collar. “Like this.” Leaning on your tip toes not letting go of his shirt you kiss him softly, taking over his senses with your soft plush lips against his. Ace drops the pizza and doesn’t even bother to catch it as it clatters to the floor. “That ok with you?” Your eyes looking at his lips and then back to the rest of his face.
He’s lit up bright red as he nods dumbly, “more than ok.”
You push him back against your front door chasing his lips once more. He tastes like cinnamon gum as you swipe your tongue against his bottom lip, eager for entry into his mouth. He grants it to you unquestionably, equally craving the feel of your heated tongue sliding against his. Muffled groans escaping him as your hands caress his warm exposed skin beneath his shirt.
“You’re s’good at this,” he says in between each wet smack of your mouthes. His hands wrapping and groping along your waist and backside, kneading the plump flesh like playdough. The cutest part is he’s much taller than you, bending down so you can kiss him how you want.
“You think so? I can get better.” One of your hands leaves his chest, trailing down his toned body as you palm his hardening cock in your hand. “Oh, and you’re so big Ace. Almost like you’re paying me with all this.” Heavy breaths leaving him as you cup his dick tenderly and give such feverish love to his neck all at once. It has him rutting into your hand trying to satiate that itch that’s been bothering him ever since he saw you in the doorway. Little shorts leaving nothing to the imagination.
You unzip his cargos, leaving only his thin boxers between his growing length and your nimble fingers. He rolls his hips harder each time you tease the waist band and lick his lips as you both swap saliva. “Stop teasin, thought I was ‘sposed to get paid.”
“You’ll get compensated, delivery boy,” you grab him by the belt loops as you lead him to your couch. Smiling as you push him back, he plops against the cushion with a soft ‘hmp’. Ace takes off his shirt, throwing it to the side as he man spreads to ease the ache in his balls, bulging erection awaiting your attention. “Want your dick sucked or what?”
While that sounds like a great idea, Ace is more eager to taste the sweetness between your legs. “Sit on my face pretty girl, wanna eat you.” He pulls you by the back of your thighs, edging you closer to his body as he starts to slide down your shorts. His forwardness makes you glow, slotting your hands in his hair, ruffling it slightly while he tends to your clothes. For a delivery boy, he sure knows the art of seduction. You’re practically dripping for him already.
He kisses your hipbone while waiting for you to join him on the couch. Sliding down the cushions, grabbing hold of your legs as you mount and hold the backing. “You sure?” He stares up at you from the valley of your swell breasts and smooth tummy, not having any of your objections. He sits up to swipe his wet muscle from your clit down. A soft ‘oh’ leaving your lips as he gets to work.
“Mhhm,” he moans as he taste you, almost analyzing its components like a savory sauce. He plants his hands on your waist, pulling you down further onto his mouth— it’s as if he’s not afraid of suffocating down there.
He’s eating you out like a man starved, dipping and curving his tongue into your oozing hole before suckling on your clit. He ignores the mixture of spit and slick on his chin as he devours you greedily. “Pussy’s so fuckin’ good, could eat this every day.”
Your soft moans encourage him to give you more, he needs you to fuck his face. He uses those same hands to hook around your ass and thighs, dragging you down on his tongue as he licks your insides. “Oh shit, ah— wait Ace,” you try to sit up, running from all the attention but it’s no use.
His strong arms keep you planted in place, “no runnin’ m not done yet.” Fuck this guy is hot, it’s like he’s straight out of a shitty 80’s porno as he makes you cream against his mouth. He slurps and sucks your hole as you whine loose chants of his name.
Adding his hands into the mix when he slides two fingers knuckle deep inside you. Scissoring your tight walls, you shake feeling those calloused pads massage your g-spot. “Gotta cum for me sweetheart, then I’ll fuck you as a tip.”
It feels even closer cause his tongue does not relent from your throbbing bud. Sliding it back and forth while his fingers give you something to squeeze on. “Yes yes, like that!” You sound so raunchy taking advantage of his face; running your hips in a figure eight along his tongue.
He’s grinding against the air trying to find friction, shallow thrusts up that match the pace of his fingers inside you. So close, you start pinching your nipple trying to tip yourself over the edge of raw pleasure. The pizza delivery boy of course notes this, groaning as he watches you play with yourself. He wants to replace his hand with yours, pinching and tugging at your dark bud. But, he has to keep you in place while he fucks you on his fingers. “Gonna— oh fuck,” here it comes.
Your orgasm crashes hard, washing over you in one big wave as you almost collapse on his face. He drinks whatever you offer as you whine and cry out, it’s too good. “Think you’re stretched? Cause I really wanna fuck you now. Ya look really hot when you cum.”
He’s swiping the culminating wetness from his face into his mouth, sucking the fingers he had inside you like a greedy bastard. Licking and suctioning onto the pads to emphasize how needy he is for you. Oh, he’s good.
“Be my guest, pretty boy.” Ace has never really thought of himself as pretty, so hearing someone as beautiful as you say it, it must be true. He flushes a light shade of pink while removing the rest of his clothes.
“Condom?” Like an idiot, he didn’t bring any and his wallets downstairs in the shitty delivery car where he typically keeps one if he’s lucky.
“Want you inside, I’m on the pill.” Oh.. and he gets to pound you raw? He’ll definitely be coming back here. Shaking your ass back and forth at him as if to invite him over. “Cmon I want the tip already.” He laughs at your two way pun, rubbing your ass in his hands as he marvels the sight of you bent over the side of the couch.
Ace sees his hard work continuing to drip down the insides of your thighs, smirking while lining his fat tip up with your cunt. He spits in his hand before pumping himself to make sure it’ll fit just right. You’re pushed forward till your hips meet the arm of the couch, sandwiched between two immovable forces.
He’s trying his hardest to not just slam into you, your pussy is so warm and wet around his cock and there’s nothing separating the two of you. You’re squirming from the sheer size of his length even after all that work he did to prep you. “Doin’ so good taking all of me sweetheart. Just a lil’ more.” He doesn’t know if he’s saying that for you or himself at this point, the way your bare walls grip his cock makes him double over.
The couch gives before Ace does, each thrust of his strong hips into you makes it creak and slide forward. He starts off with deep punctuated strokes, each one earning a high pitched cry from you. He’s pummeling your cunny, making your hips rub against the arm as your knees begin to buckle.
“Feelin’ good pretty girl?” But when you go to open your mouth any answer is replaced with moans that sound so pornagraphic. “Fuck your cunts so good. Suckin’ me in.” Being drilled by the hunk of a man behind you and the friction of being fucked into the couch is bringing you near your second orgasm of the night, you start to feel it licking at your insides tentatively.
Ace isn’t in much better shape himself, fucking your pussy raw is taking all of him to shoot his load right in you. He needs to get his moneys worth after all. “Can’t cum yet pretty, wanna see you.”
He moves you both to the couch so you’re flat on your back, one leg hooked around his small waist as another dangles off the couch. “Easy baby, remember to breathe,” he says before easing himself back in. That feeling of fullness returns and brings a dopamine rush with it as he flashes a toothy smile your way. Savoring the feeling of sliding his tip through the gummy resistance.
Your body is so warm beneath him as he drives in and out of your soaking cunt. “Cmon’ give it to me baby. Know you were so close…” Ace trails a hand down your abdomen, spreading his palm across your stomach as leverage while he fucks you stupid. Hair shrouding his face as he coos at you. “Please, dont wanna without you.”
The way he pleads for you is what does it, breaking the dam that was holding back another mind shattering orgasm from this sexy delivery boy. “Ahh fuck, cumming— oh! I’m-” you’re gripping onto him for dear life, firm biceps not budging an inch even when you start to dig your nails into his skin.
It all happens so fast he doesn’t even realize he’s also cumming right behind you, too caught up in the way your sultry lips fall into an “O” shape as you scream his name loud enough to be heard by the entire complex. He buries himself to the hilt, mind boiling with the thought of how he’s fucking his cum into you raw. For some reason the idea only pushes him to not pull out, letting you keep all his seed as he mewls. “Take it, take it all,” sweat accumulating at his hairline.
You’re squeezing him like a damn vice while you come undone, face scrunched so pretty. It makes his cock ache inside you, relishing in the soft sighs that come from your parted lips.
You both start to come down from your lust filled highs when he speaks again, “mhhhm, you’re still a few cents short.” He kisses you, leaning forward and almost suffocating you into his large chest.
Oh boy, hopefully he clocked out.
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Enjoy? Reblog & click 2 see event masterlist!
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charliethechandelure · 6 months
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Men be upon ye
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wellfine · 10 months
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Woke him up from his nap for this,
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sordidmusings · 2 months
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Thirsty Thursday with Mihawk - The Hat Stays ON
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Art by koitosoup
A/N: Y'all can blame @fanaticsnail for me posting this 💀 it is very indulgent because I needed desperate and needy Mihawk to exist and this prompt tumbled right on into that to sate me 🤡 (at the airport hoping no one is looking over my shoulder rn too LOL)
Word Count: ~2.5k
Warnings: afab!reader, NSFW, p in v, forceful undertones towards beginning, desk sex, creampie, begging, praise, lots of the pet name "love", Mihawk is like super needy he moans "please" dude, he's also very in love, and trying sUPER hard not to finish first by the end 💀, stress relief before Cross Guild meeting, brief moment shit-talking the other two lol turns real sweet at the end cuz I couldn’t help myself
Please enjoy this man being as close to a mess as I think I can convincingly get him ╰(▔∀▔)╯
~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~
Mihawk is usually the type of man to fully take his time enjoying every inch of you.
Usually.
“I know, love, I know,” his voice is full of panting desperation, worn to a fluster by his pressing need and his frantic firm thrusts into you. “I’ll make it up to you later, I just -nnhah- just gotta fuck you now -nnnhg fuck- don’t wanna think about anything but how fucking good it feels inside you.”
When Mihawk came to your study not thirty minutes before the next Cross Guild meeting, this was the last thing you were expecting. Though, it did fly right to the top of the list when you saw the intensity of his shining gold eyes on you and the rigidness of his figure, all coiled muscle waiting to pounce and gritted teeth waiting to tear. You’d barely been able to get just his jacket over his shoulders before he was on you, speaking his need and hunger with persistent lips and hands. He was so set on getting his fill that he simply let his prized coat be dragged down his arms and thrown to the floor. Somehow, his hat survived the rush of his motions and the beloved closeness necessary for his demanding kisses.
Though they were rare, you loved the times he was like this, using you for his pleasure, clinging to you and taking you like nothing else in the world would ever suffice in sating him. You got just as much out of these times as he did, but you played it as a favor, partly for the delicious flavor it added to the dynamic to hear him apologize, beg, and thank as much as the stalwart Dracule Mihawk can and partly to earn the long and worshipful treatment he’d reward you with later. You’re not sure how he hasn’t caught onto you yet. Seeing the meticulously controlled man lose himself in his desire for you has you dripping, shown in the wet slap on each strong thrust. It was surely enough to give your abundant eagerness away.
Beyond that, you are just as ravenous for him, thighs clamped around his sides, hands gripping tightly to his tense forearms as he fucks you on your desk. You feel the jump of each muscle from their work sinking a bruising grip into your hips, manhandling them forward and back opposite the motion of his hips to fuck you just like he wants - like you’re a lifeline and if he just digs as deeply as he can into your sweet cunt as quickly as he can then he can finally breathe again.
Your heels pull him in on each quick thrust, the clench of your legs and abs for the motion helping a rhythmic pulse stroke at every inch of your walls and further firm your swollen lips and clit to absorb each delicious impact of Mihawk’s hips. The soft, sweat-damp skin of his back and sides teases your sensitive inner thighs and calves as he fucks you, his obliques dancing especially sinfully against your flesh. You loved admiring the look of his chiseled figure but absolutely nothing compared to the bliss of him using it against you.
The urge Mihawk has to collapse down over you and continuously drag you as close as possible is strong, but it is beat out by the erotic sight of watching the slap of his hips bounce your body. It lets you have a beautiful sight too; Mihawk backlit and looming over you, muscles fully displaying their strength and tone with the lack of his jacket, his curled hair and the feather on his cap swaying in time with him fucking into you. The hat still resting on his head only makes you feel smaller captured under him; he always looks impressive with it on and it makes the shadow he casts over you that much larger.
Mihawk uses an iron grip to throw one of your bare legs to hook over his shoulder. He uses his other hand to grip the inside of the other and shove it to the side, flat on your desk, trapping it down by putting his weight into his hold on your thigh. It forces your hips to turn on their side, giving him a new angle to work you open on his thick cock. The change has each forceful drag of his cock in you feel new again, recharging your nerves in their pleasant screaming. You tell him their call through whiny panting, chants of his name, and streams of “yes! like that, so good, fuck me harder, need it, need you so bad-”
There’s a firm thump and rattle of your desk as his hand plants next to your head to keep from collapsing over you. It leaves him crouching over you like a predator, but the hazy need in his eyes begging you to let him keep feeling this forever betrays the fact that he’s as deeply in your clutches as he tries to snatch you into his. The thickness of your thigh trapped between you helps keep him up as well as his other hand still pressing your leg down. His fingers that are sunk into your thigh dig deeper and tremble with his pleasure and overwhelm.
“Gods, love, you’re perfect, want to live between your thighs,” Mihawk groans, so close you can feel his panting breath cool the sweat on your face. He’s fighting his eyes to stay open, needing to see the pleasure scrunching your brow, loosening your jaw, fogging your eyes. The fluttering of his lids catches your eyes and swells your heart, shooting arousal through you from knowing he’s feeling so desperately good from fucking you. The amber of his eyes is so bright trained on you that it seems to glow through the shadows haunting his face. It makes him look all the more feral as he grips, spreads, bends, and fucks you like he wants to eat you whole. “Just -hahn- need some more from you, can you -nngaaah- do that for me, little love?”
You sob out a moan as you snap your eyes shut against the onslaught of sensation. The soreness his weight is pressing through your thigh and the tender stretch from your other leg being folded to your shoulder add more buzzing chaos to the sensations swirling their way through your body to flood your brain. The way he holds you open lets your clit take a soft impact every time he shoves his whole length into your plush pussy, giving the bud more little teases with how your body reverberates from the impact. 
“Look at me while I fuck you,” Mihawk snarls, but there’s desperation bleeding through the growl in his voice. You want to whine back at his request but you want to please him even more. You blink your eyes open and the raw need in them has Mihawk collapse just a bit more over you, feeling the want you and your pleasures ravage through his body begin to burn him alive. The brim of his hat taps lightly on your forehead from his closeness while he pants and moans to you, “Like that, love, fuck you’re so good for me.”
Meeting your gaze is a double edged sword; his arousal magnifies, his soul lights up, and his cock twitches hard but it also throws him to feeling right on the precipice of cumming and he’s not ready to stop feeling you. The siren song of the wet slapping of your hips, the slick sound of your pussy gushing around him and trying to keep him sucked as deep as he can reach, and your panting breaths carrying high moans and pleads and praises all tempt him to let the torrent of pleasure rush over him, promise him it would feel like endless blissful sin. It is all the harder to resist because he knows exactly how delicious it feels to sheathe himself from root to tip in you and pump stream after stream of hot cum into your welcoming walls while your cunt clings to him almost as tightly and desperately as his hands cling to you.
“Love, need you to cum,” Mihawk rushes out. He palms the hand on your thigh up so he can rub circles over your swollen clit. Your moans gain even more volume, filling the air in your office almost as thickly as the sweet, musky scent of sex.
“Need it, please,” he whispers breathlessly, “Need to feel you -nnnnhhah- love, love, need to feel your cunt sque-heeze me.” 
His vision begins blurring from the strain of staying right on the edge of cumming, barely holding back the powerful orgasm built from the burning in his muscles, the tingling in his fingers, the swirling in his head, and the throbbing of his cock. Giving up on trying to refocus them, he scrunches his eyes shut and lets his forehead fall down to rest on your temple, finally bumping his hat to fall onto the desk next to you. His closed eyes allow him to focus in better on all the other ways you are filling his senses, latching especially to your open mouth serenading him with needy babbling and fucked out moans.
“Can you be -ghahh- good and do that for me?” Mihawk pleads against your cheek. “Can you cum for me?”
“Y-yes, please, wanna be -mmmngh- good for you,” you whine back to him. His hips stutter at the tone and you feel his lips pull up around gritting teeth, an airy “fuck” sneaking past them.
“You are, sweetness, you are sooooo good for me,” Mihawk praises, swirling his thumb more insistently across your slick clit. The increase and pressure and perfect timing with his firm thrusts has your core tightening in threat of bursting. Your thighs had already been shaking in warning of your coming orgasm, but now the trembling is seating itself in every clench of your walls around Mihawk’s thick cock, wringing tighter and longer on each pulse. Your nerves sparkle and buzz more with each clamp down, the blazing rub of his throbbing dick and its bulging veins whiting out your mind. “Now come on, love -nngh- cum on my cock -fuuck please- let me feel you, make me cum -nnnghah- need to fuck you full.”
With a sob of his name, you finally fall over the edge. It feels as overwhelming as you had been expecting since he first stormed in and threw you over the desk. Your hands and cunt cling to him in need of a tether and in need of more; while your body is trembling with the bliss of your orgasm a tiny piece in the back of your mind is waiting for the final thing that will melt your whole body into a honey drip of heaven.
Mihawk doesn’t leave you waiting long; he is only able to feel your pussy milk him a handful of times before he can hold his end off no longer. With slurring groans of endearments and praises, he is overtaken by pleasure and can think of nothing beyond the relief of pumping you full of his cum with his twitching cock and grinding hips. The force of it has his thighs quake and numb out, making his weight crumble over you as he can no longer hold himself up. He nuzzles his face down the side of yours until he’s tucked panting against your neck, forehead pressed snuggly against your racing pulse.
You welcome his weight with open arms, one dragging him ever tighter to your heaving chest and the other winding its hand into his thick dark hair to ensure he never leaves. Both of you are still gasping for breath, your pressed chests rubbing and shaking against each other much like your greedy hips do as they ring out the endless pulsing beats of your orgasms. Your cunt and core continue to massage down on him and wring every bit of tight and bubbling bliss from his still hard and pumping cock that they can get. 
The feeling of being not only filled with his large and achingly hard cock but also the swelling heat of his cum makes your eyes roll back. He’s filled you full to bursting, now leaking out of you on every grind and the warm sticky sensation and sound matched with his pelvis massaging small sweeps across your clit prolongs your peak. You get to spend a long time suspended in the feeling of your body bursting with heat and joy and relief and electricity, all shoving your soul right out of your skin only for Mihawk’s presence to trap you right back into the storm raging in your nerves.
Mihawk begins to feel foggy and a bit delirious as he finally releases his pent up need in you, finally sates his ferocious hunger for your delicious touch, finally finds his comfort and peace stuck as close to you as he can possibly get. He makes a halfhearted attempt to bring his mind back to his body but is happily distracted by the aftershocks that jolt your body and flutter your cunt. They pull extra little spurts and groans from him each time and he’s defenseless to the contentment he feels following their slowing pace into the warm hover of affection that always envelops him after sharing bodies with you.
It takes a long time for either of you to actually come back to yourselves. The whole time you are afloat, you guide each other with trailing touches from limp but loving hands, quick kisses stolen between smoothing out your breath, and gentle squeezes in the embrace you keep on each other, needing those little moments where it's even more of a hug than a hold. Mihawk chases the touches that tease across the dips of his lower back or scratch up the back of his neck and across his scalp just a little bit more than the others. You feel too boneless to lean into almost any touch at the moment, but you do manage to roll your head to the side so you can gaze at your grandfather clock in the corner.
“I don’t think there’s time to make you presentable for them,” you sigh out with no real remorse. Mihawk is of a similar mind.
“Not my fault if those two don’t have anyone to take care of their needs,” Mihawk mumbles dryly. “Also not my problem if they’re mad I’ve had mine met.”
The laugh you give at his attitude earns you one of your favorite prizes: Mihawk’s lips making the slow curl then spread into a real smile. It is only topped when they close again to press a kiss in the shape of that smile on their resting place against your skin with enough love to reach straight through your skin and nurture every beat of your heart.
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portgasmalia · 7 months
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𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ﹙including: sabo, trafalgar law, eustass kid, roronoa zoro﹚ ﹙theme: smut, pure smutty headcanons. mdni!! ﹚
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flame emperor sabo
oh, he did not need any instructions about what you wanted or needed to reach the most intense orgasm. with his position as the second in command, sabo knew exactly how it felt to be in control of people. and god, he loved that control way too much to let it slip so easily in the sheets with you. what he did not expect was how you obeyed to his words. the seductive syllables that slipped from his warm tongue past his wet lips. and so sabo did not need to instruct you on how to place your hands while your legs were wrapped up around his waist. his palms were flatly placed on the sheets beside your head, calloused fingertips dug into the white fabric underneath your intertwined bodies. your hand was perfectly placed underneath his slender underarm, the manicured fingernails wrapped so tightly around his wrist while sabo‘s hips snapped into yours. over and over again, the flame emperor coaxed out the whiny sounds of your tightened throat. he could watch how your face twisted with pleasure, how each of your muscles twitched when he hit the perfect spot, and how the beads of sweat trailed down your temples. sweet cries repeated his name, the memorable sound ringing in his ears as your nails scratched along the sides of his wrist and dug deeply into the soft skin. a beautiful reminder to the revolutionary, once he pulled the brown leather gloves on or off and saw the crescent-shaped, or sometimes lined, marks.
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roronoa zoro
there is no denying that zoro loves to pound into you from behind. watching how his thick dick disappeared between your legs, squeezed tightly by your welcoming, gummy walls. or how perfectly your ass cheeks jiggled with each rough thrust of his hips which also resulted in his favorite position. sprawled out on the bed, the head turned to the side and the watermelon pink stained cheek pressed against the soft fabric of the square pillows. zoro‘s scared chest pressed against the curve of your back, his hips slamming against the soft flesh of your butt with each thrust. you witnessed each second, he fought the urge to unload his seed after your gummy walls squeezed his thick dick so deliciously tight. it happened multiple times in this particular position, as zoro pressed his hips further against your backside and the way his grip on your hand tightened. your palm was placed beside your head, manicured nails dug into the soft fabric of the sheets. zoro‘s large paw placed above yours, calloused palm against the back of your hand and fleshy fingers laced with your slender ones. as soon as the feeling of your cunt around him became too much, and the swordsman slowed down the pace, his fingers stroke through yours, slightly squeezing. he might not realize the little gesture but you were thankful for how he held your hand and gave you an inaudible insight on how well you made him feel.
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trafalgar d. water law
he loved how eagerly your fingernails clawed at his upper arms or his back, he admired to see your attempts to stop the rough pounding you earned by teasing him, or interrupting his exhausting studies once again. but what the doctor loved much more, is the feeling of having you struggle against him while being completely overstimulated by his actions. trapped underneath his body as he pounded into your sore cunt. you could not remember how many orgasms you already went through, the punishment started hours ago and law wasn't even halfway through with it. hands placed effortlessly beside your head, not having enough strength anymore to fight against your boyfriend's relentless movements. "see, i told you punishment would be worse than waiting a couple of hours longer," he would mutter against the shell of your ear, placing soft kisses along your jawline. law's hands were placed around your wrists, fingers lazily wrapped around your soft skin while the pointer finger laid perfectly in your palm. it all belonged to his plan. giving him a chance to always know that you're still feeling good about what he was doing. one pinch of pain was enough for the doctor to stop. slowly, tapping the tip of his pointer finger against the soft skin of your palm and waiting for the slightest squeeze as an answer. all he needed was the little measurement to snap his hips stronger against yours and hunt down his own orgasm.
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eustass 'captain' kid
being with kid meant to prepare for the worst. not in the way that it was not pleasing at all what he did with his towering body, it happened to be the entire opposite. the snap of his hips against yours was rough, burying himself to the hilt inside of your warm, gummy walls. stretched out again, never really prepared to take his girthy length but you loved the feeling he forced upon you. there was no need to deny how kid dominated you in each situation of life. as a captain, he gave you orders. as a friend, he gave you advice. and as your boyfriend, he certainly took control in the sheets without questioning. your hands placed above your head if he was sprawled out on top of you. one hand beside your head to keep his towering, muscular body from crushing you while the other held your hands together by the wrists. the calloused and rough palm of one of his large paws was enough to capture both of your slender arms in a tight grip. always giving him another glint of power, another strong beam of pride about how muscular and tall he was, compared to you. the way his fleshy fingers overpowered you without having to use his entire strength to hold your in place became kid's little act. if he towered above you, roughly snapping his hips against yours as skin slapping against skin filled the captain's chambers. or while you were on all four, the damp, flustered span of your cheek pressed against the soft sheets with the ass high in the air. kid was pressed tightly against your jiggling ass, admiring how the flesh of your butt wiggled with each forceful thrust. arms neatly placed on the curve of your back, wrists held together tightly by the large hand of your boyfriend.
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cherryxblossxms · 4 months
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🔞 Letting Buggy fuck his frustrations into you~
[nsfw obviously, afab reader, oral (m receiving), some degradation, rough sex, some ass slapping, creampie, followed by fluffy aftercare; a lil devil fruit misuse; 1.6k ahahahaha this....... was intended to be short idk what happened]
He's extremely hesitant when you first bring it up because he knows he's strong, and he never wants to bring anger into the bedroom. He's already anxious when it comes to his relationship with you, he wonders how he ended up with someone like you and if he even deserves you. It's a thought that's on his mind on a near-constant basis, though it improves over time. So the first several times, he adamantly refuses.
He still tends to fall back on old habits and mannerisms and it takes a lot for him to rein himself back in, control it so he's not causing harm to you. He already feels awful when this causes a fight with you that he didn't intend. So even though you're the one bringing this subject up, he's still worried that he'll hurt you somehow, physically or emotionally or maybe even both, and he'd never forgive himself if it caused you to leave.
It takes a while to convince him. But eventually, there's one day where seemingly nothing was going right. Buggy and his crew dealt with a particularly annoying opponent, destroyed a town but didn't get much loot out of it, and none of the crew members could seem to do anything right. At this point, all he wants is to shut himself in his room with you and forget about the world.
And then he remembers your offer.
The second he gets back to the ship, he's dragging you back to his cabin. He doesn't say anything at first, but you can see the gears turning in his head, thinking of what he needs to say. When he finally does speak, it's clearly with much effort over thinly veiled desire and frustration, asking you if you're sure that you want this.
He asks you not once, not twice, but three times. Even as you move forward to kiss his jaw, as you trail your hands over his abdomen and down to cup his growing erection, as he lets you brush your lips over his, he's still asking in between to make absolutely sure you're okay with this, because once you give the okay, he's not letting you go and he's not going easy. And it's clear how much he's struggling not to take you right then and there.
Finally, once he's convinced you understand what you're asking for and established a safe word and a call sign in case things get out of control, it's like the floodgates open. He's ripping your shirt open, buttons flying everywhere. You're on your knees before you know what's happening, face to face with the straining tent in his pants, and Buggy's hand holding the back of your head to keep you close.
He has you undress him, exposing his fuzzy chest and watching as you undo and tug his pants down, and his cock is so eager that it slaps against your jaw, catching you with his dripping precum. It's always intoxicating being on your knees for your captain, but it's even moreso as he directs you on how to touch him, no hands allowed. But you're happy to oblige, teasing him with your tongue along the side of his shaft and along his heavy balls, drawing out a needy groan from his painted lips before he's gripping your hair, indicating his patience is waning quickly. And you're not one to want to anger your captain most days, or deprive him of what he needs. So you happily oblige, finally taking him into your mouth.
He's a struggle to fit in your mouth on a good day, blessed with a thick curved shaft that always manages to make you scream, and it's even harder now that you're doing this hands-free. But as Buggy directs your movements, bobbing your head on his dick, it's intoxicating letting him control your movement. It also doesn't help as you feel a hand suddenly grabbing your rear, having not even noticed he detached one. He temporarily lets go of your head to detach the other hand, using them to tug your pants and underwear down your thighs, before one hand comes back up to continue holding your head.
As you keep sucking him off, it shouldn't be a surprise as his one hand slides between your thighs, lightly brushing against your clit and sliding between your lower lips. What does surprise you both is how wet you are, and Buggy has no shame in pointing it out, commenting on how needy you are, what a slut you are to get off on being used like this. Buggy is no stranger to dirty talk, (it's hard to get him to stop talking about anything truly), but this time it's obvious how affected he is by everything.
He's quickly pumping one, two, three fingers between your legs, making you moan around his shaft as he preps you for the main event. With all the frustration built up in him, it's not long before he's twitching, already ready to cum, especially as he gets to listen to your noises. But he wants to finally take you. He pulls you off of him, dick coated in your spit, and you look fucked out already, making him chuckle. Once he reattaches the hand that was fingering you, he's finally completely removing your bottoms and hoisting you up in his arms, letting your legs wrap around his hips as he presses you to the cabin wall.
It's a struggle not to scream as he immediately pushes in, still causing some stretch even with all the prep. And although his thighs are shaking with the effort, he gives you just enough time to adjust before he's pounding you into the wood. If the ship wasn't already rocking with the sea, you're sure his movements alone would have made the place shake, the sounds of your wetness and skin slapping filling the air. At one point, he adjusts his position so your legs dangle over his forearms, effectively folding you like a lawn chair and allowing him to reach even deeper.
Your first orgasm blindsides you, making you scream and shake in his arms as Buggy keeps fucking you towards overstimulation, his movement barely halted as you suddenly clamp down on him. He slows his pace, but only barely, just enough to tell you how good you are for taking him like this... but that he's not done yet. You can barely register his words before you're on his bed, face down and ass up, thighs trembling from your orgasm and a cooling feeling between your legs as your cunt is exposed and presented.
You can only imagine what a mess it looks like, especially given the pounding he'd just given you, before a hand comes down on your ass, snapping you out of your thoughts and drawing a cry from your lips. Now this is not unusual for Buggy, whose hands are always finding their way to your ass. He loves the plush, the jiggle, and he especially loves the noises you make when he slaps it. But of course, even that's short-lived as he grinds his shaft against you, still hard and aching to cum already, before pushing in once more.
By now, although he hasn't cum yet, Buggy is actually feeling better already. Just having you cum for him, watching your expressions and feeling the way you hold onto him, eased much of his frustration, now mostly replaced by just his usual hunger for you. So he's quick to snap his hips against yours once more, making you moan against the sheets as he sets a brutal pace. Once again, one of his hands separates to keep up occasional slapping, making you tighten around him, before it eventually slides between your legs against to circle your clit.
The sensations are too much, and you're babbling as such before you realize it, but Buggy is quick to promise he's almost done, just a little bit longer, you're doing so good for him and he can't wait to fill you up. By now, his body is pressing down on yours, warm and sweaty and strong, his balls and thighs slapping against you with each thrust, and his detached hand still toying with your sensitive pearl, trying its hardest to make you cum again.
The combination of things finally drives you over the edge, and your orgasm triggers Buggy's this time, making you both moan in tandem as Buggy presses in close, cumming deep inside as your cunt tries to milk him for everything its worth. His moans echo in your ear, hot breath panting against your shoulder as you two struggle for breath. It takes much too long to separate, and the ache between your thighs tells you just how sore you'll be tomorrow. But as Buggy comes into your view, now seeking to check on your wellbeing after fucking your brains out, you can see that it'll be well worth it, his eyes only filled with love and worry now instead of their earlier anger.
Buggy always struggles a bit with aftercare, but he tries his best for you, finding the cleanest rag he can to clean between your legs. Once you're dressed in one of his shirts, he's quickly pulling you into his arms. It's sweet, if overbearing, how he's checking in with you and asking you about a hundred times if you're okay, if he was too rough, if there was anything you didn't like or if he scared you. You might have to interrupt him with a kiss to get him to stop for a moment, but once he's reassured about how you feel, he'll finally relax.
When you first brought up this offer, he was so scared about how it would turn out, afraid to hurt you and afraid to scare you off. But now that it's out of the way and he knows you're okay, he might be more willing to come to you more often with his... troubles.
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