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charliemwrites · 3 months

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Part 4 of Nikto’s commandments

A little spice at the end.

You moan his name sometimes in your sleep.

Usually just before you wake up, panting and overheated, shooting wide-eyed glances his way. Lying to you would be a sin beyond redemption so he always lets you know that he’s awake. You often apologize, sometimes you assure him you’re alright. It takes him a while to identify the look in your eyes those nights — he was unfamiliar with it even before: guilt.

You feel guilty.

Puzzling out the why of that takes longer still. You’re a mystery to him, ineffable. The way god is supposed to be. Unlike the Christian one, you almost always have a purpose behind what you do, and you’ll answer Nikto whenever he dares to ask. (He’s not going to ask about this.)

He first thought that you were calling for his help in dreamt pain. That your blown out pupils, trembling hands, and flushed face were products of fear and imagined torture.

But then you started to lean into his neck in your sleep, making soft, high noises. Would press your ass into the cradle of his hips, grind against his thigh. Alien as his body is to him now, he can recognize emotion in others. Lust, desire.

Coming to terms that you feel these things for him has been another challenge altogether. (But you are a loving god, a compassionate keeper. The sweetness and mercy and nobility found in the viscera of his world. If there is anything of him worth wanting, you would find it.) If you are attracted to this… vessel he inhabits, who is he to question you?

The guilt, though. That he is still puzzling out.

If anyone should feel guilt, it is him (though he doesn’t, isn’t even sure if he can). Now that you’ve made him more aware of his body, of his desires, there’s a constant buzz of arousal in his blood. For you. He craves you constantly. Your touch, your voice, your scent in his nose. He could suffocate on you.

It’s selfish, it’s sinful. To desire anything of you when you have given him everything and asked for nothing in return. Not even his loyalty, freely given. It is why he could not say yes when you offered to slake his desire; it would have been akin to blasphemy.

Unless.

Unless you have asked something of him.

“Whoa!” A giggle as you tilt your head back to him, amused and curious. “What was that for?”

He feels wooden as he glances down at you. His arm is around your waist, nearly crushing you to him. Hadn’t even realized he moved. You don’t seem to mind, palms light on his forearm. Still looking to him.

He does not answer. Can’t find the words past the panic clawing at his throat. Lets you go slowly, finger by finger. You don’t step away once free.

You say something else. Something about rain maybe? He’s too busy staring at the deft hands you cup around your mouth.

How soft and gentle they are on his skin, skipping over the worst scars. The first thing you always do is touch him. When he’s out of a shower, just changed, climbing into bed, waking up. You reach for him, as if you can’t bear to be parted with the same intensity he feels.

Do you crave to touch him in other ways? Has he denied you, unwitting as it may have been?

It would be one thing to ask anything of you, especially for his own sake. But to give you something… even if it’s such an unworthy offering as himself…

“Nikto?”

His eyes flick down to yours. You smile at him, point at your own temple.

“Busy up there today, huh?” It’s not even a tease, but he feels as if he’s made another misstep.

“Sorry.”

You shake your head, bump your shoulder into his arm. “I’m just checking that you’re alright.”

“Alright” being relative. He objectively understands that he is broken and damaged. That he does not operate at full capacity all — or even most — of the time.

But with your help he’s established a baseline, a “normal.” Something to measure his body, and more importantly his damaged mind by.

“I am… alright,” he decides finally. “Just thinking.”

“Okay,” you answer, easy as that. “If you want to talk, I’ll listen — but you don’t have to.”

You don’t have to is your favorite thing to say to him. He would laugh if he remembered how.

He grunts an affirmative and follows you to wherever you’re headed next.

—

That night, your ankle is hurting. Nothing serious, you assure Nikto. Just rolled it a bit. You promise it just needs rest, low level painkillers, and a bit of elevation.

Nikto is unpracticed at care. For all he practically lives in your pocket, medical care is unusual for you. He spends so much time keeping you safe, protected, alive and unharmed. He has little direction when it comes to your discomfort.

Luckily, you provide direction in spades.

“Two pills from the bottle with the red cap and a glass of water please.”

His cock twitches hard. Fills out almost dizzyingly fast in the confines of his tac pants.

He fetches both for you, holding each in turn as you pluck the pills from his hand and sip the water. You sigh gratefully and tell him to set the glass on the nightstand. Another bolt of pleasure to obey, while you like droplets from your bottom lip.

“Can you grab my computer and the charger? I want to watch something before bed.”

He brings them, stands waiting while you fiddle with it. Waiting for another request. He’s achingly hard now. Throbbing in his underwear.

“Oh! Hairbrush too, please?”

When he hands it to you this time, hand almost to the point of shaking, you give him a sheepish smile.

“I’m sorry, I keep making you run around.”

“Don’t be.” His voice is gruff, but it so often is that you don’t seem to find anything amiss. “More?”

“Ah… well, if it’s not too much trouble, could you grab the extra blanket? It’s cold tonight.”

He tries to pace himself. To balance the pleasure of obeying against the speed of completing the task. You hum in delight as he drapes it over you — a fluffy monstrosity of a thing. Utterly decadent, he’d never even entertain the idea of having one. But you deserve a dozen of them if you wanted them. He’d retrieve them now for you if only you asked.

(He wishes you would ask.)

He is harder than he ever remembers being. (Granted, there are many gaps in his memory, even now. But there is enough there to know this is true.)

“Okay that should be the last thing for a bit.” You’re looking away and don’t see the minute deflation of his shoulders. He’s nearly panting. “Come snuggle in?”

“In a moment,” he says, surprising himself. You seem a bit (pleasantly) surprised too. He’s never denied you anything for even a moment. But if he sits next to you now…

“Ah, gotcha,” you say when he turns for the bathroom.

You start playing whatever tv show you have queued up to offer him privacy. He closes the door after himself and for the first time since regaining his freedom, takes himself in hand.

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #nikto x reader #cod nikto

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fairysluna · 1 year

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hi! not sure if you’re receiving request rn but if u are would u do a one shot cregan x targ wife? basically domestic stuff with their kids who’s half wolf and dragon and all the fluff <33 i love ur writing style sm!! don’t forget to take care of urself :)

AMONG DRAGONS AND WOLVES

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Targ!Reader.

Summary: Once the time has arrived for your child's dragon egg to hatch, things don't go as planned, and Cregan simply cannot stand the sight of his son's saddened eyes.

Tags/TW: fluff, mentions of pregnancy, cregan being a dilf, and just that I think, it's pure fluff tbh.

Author's Note: THANK U for requesting this, I've been waiting to write something like this since I wrote my first Cregan one shot. Just softie Cregan for you, anon, hope you like it!!🤍

Word Count: 2.0k

"What are you doing here?" He asked, visibly worried as he stood up from the snow leaving the two boys behind, "You should be resting…"

A small chuckle left you as he placed his big hand on top of your swollen belly, you looked down at it for a few seconds before looking up to his face. The love in his eyes was visibly obvious as you felt, once again, bewitched by his deep brown stare. The same butterflies that were present the day of your wedding, were flying in your stomach as you felt his loving touch on you. So protective and caring.

"It's time for Rickon to go to his classes with the Maester," you informed. The older child looked at you with puppy eyes, begging for you to not send him away from his little brother, "go on, pup, he's waiting for you… you can play with Aelor after you've finished."

The brown haired boy stood up from the snow and walked half-hearted towards the castle. Once he passed right beside you, you stopped him to kiss him softly on his forehead before letting him go. As a response, he wrinkled his nose and left obediently. Cregan saw the tender scene with a smile on his face,

"He was comforting his brother," Cregan said, "Aelor needed his company."

"We've talked about this, this is usual, this happens to everyone… My brother, Aemond, went through the same thing and now he rides Vhagar," you shrugged.

"He's ten, he doesn't understand it, he feels unworthy," he turned around to look at him.

Aelor Stark, a beautiful brown haired boy who carries his mother's eyes. The first born son product of your love for Cregan. He was bigger than the other children of his age, and his only friends were his half-brother, Rickon, and his younger sister of five, Lysara.

And while Lysara's egg already hatched, Aelor's hasn't been so lucky to say the same. The poor boy spent the prior night crying on your lap as Cregan looked at you with pure distress in his eyes, knowing that he wasn't able to do anything that could cheer his son up. That same night, you told Aelor that he could claim a dragon of his own once he was old enough… but, as your husband said, his sadness was not only because he didn't have a dragon yet, he felt sad because he felt as if he was unworthy of having one.

"I can't bear to look at his saddened eyes," Cregan said, "he has your eyes, everytime i see sadness in them is as if I'm seeing sadness in yours. I can't allow my family to be miserable."

"We're not, my love," you quickly answered, placing your hand on his cheek, "you have given us nothing but pure happiness. What is happening is beyond our control, is what nature desires."

"We need to do something," he spoke sternly, "I will not sit back and see our son suffer."

You couldn’t help but smile genuinely at his sweet words.

"There's nothing left to do, we just need to wait and take him to King's Landing so he can claim an already hatched dragon… there are plenty of them."

"Is it my fault?" Cregan asked suddenly with a soft voice. You quickly frown, visibly confused.

"Your fault?"

"What if my- my genes are too strong and his Valyrian blood is not working… he already has brown hair, and-"

A chuckle was heard as you stood on your tiptoes to silent him with a soft kiss. He immediately grabbed your waist as he sighed once you captured his lips in a touch that made him forget about everything for just a couple of seconds. That was the power you had on him.

Once you pulled back, Cregan's eyes slowly fluttered open until his eyes met yours. He took a deep breath and you smiled,

"This is not your fault," you said slowly, trying to make him understand, "you're a wise man, husband, it surprises me that you were able to think such a foolish thing."

"I apologize," he muttered, a bit embarrassed.

"No need, my love," you softly shook your head and sighed before pecking his lips, "now, Lysa is asking for her father, she said you promised her to help her with her Valyrian classes."

Cregan smiled embarrassed, a soft tone of pink covered his cheeks as he looked down at the snow beneath his thick boots. You bit your own bottom lip as you let out a breathy laugh, seeing your husband being so flustered was a bit amusing for you.

Especially because you knew you were the only one who was able to make him feel that way.

"She told you, she betrayed our pact,'' he said between soft chuckles.

"I told you it wasn't necessary…"

"I want to be able to teach them, my love. They're my children too, I need to be part of their culture."

"That's very kind of you," your arms wrapped around his waist as you kiss him again.

"You won't be able to gossip about me in another language," he joked between pecks.

"I would never gossip about you, you fool," you laughed.

Cregan placed his hands on your face and took a look at your features for a long time. He would always do that; hold your face between his big hands and stare at your beauty for a few seconds, admiring every single bit of you. He sighed, completely enamored by the view in front of him, and then he gently rubbed his nose against yours, closing his eyes but still being able to perceive your small smile.

"You're the most beautiful woman in the world, my love," he whispers, pressing his forehead in yours, "I love you more than words can tell, my princess."

Your heart, filled with joy, skipped a beat as you heard that nickname that he now uses only in intimate moments like this, for he wanted to let you know how you had all the control of him. You opened your eyes, looking at those gleaming dark eyes that you loved so dearly.

Those tiny little moments made you think about how lucky you were.

Later at night, when the crackling sound of the fireplace was the only thing you were able to hear, you were laying in bed with Aelor under one arm and Lysara kissing and caressing your belly as she spoke to her new sibling growing inside of you. You looked at the scene, with tender eyes and a giant smile decorating your face.

"Sagon gīda, zaldrītsos," Be careful, little dragon, you told her gently, caressing her curly brown hair, "Your little brother or sister is too small yet, so you have to be careful, okay?"

"I hope is a girl…" Aelor whispered on your side. You turned to look at him, asking him to explain his answer, "maybe she'll be able to have a dragon if she's a girl like Lysa."

You pressed your lips in a thin line as you cupped your son's face and caressed his chubby cheeks. A soft kiss was left on his forehead as you shook your head,

"Listen to me, zoklītsos." Little wolf, you called him, "gender has nothing to do with it, and you will have a dragon."

"But-"

"In a few months we'll visit your grandmother, and once we're in the capital we'll go to the Dragon Keep, where you will choose a dragon to claim," you spoke softly, but sternly at the same time, "so, just be patient and wait."

"I'm sorry, muña," he said before he cuddles under your arm once again.

"No need to-"

Your words were interrupted as the door suddenly opened with a deafening sound as it smacked against the wall. Your first instinct was to grab Lysara and Aelor, and place them behind you as you grab your small dagger from under your pillow.

However, your body relaxed once you saw Rickon entering the room with a suspicious big smile and laughing as he covered his mouth. You took a deep breath and you hid the dagger under the pillow once again.

"Rickon, darling, you scared me," you said, scolding him but keeping your voice as soft as you could, "what is it that has you so cheerfully laughing, huh?"

"We have a surprise for Aelor!" He said happily.

"We?" You asked.

Cregan walked inside the room as soon as those words left your mouth, and your eyes widened as you looked at the half grown direwolf between his arms. It looked quite small in them.

Your husband had the same smile as the one his first child had, two pairs of eyes gleaming with excitement as they looked at your eldest son. Soon you realized what was going on, and a horror look was seen in your face as you grabbed Lysara and held her close to your body.

"Absolutely not!" You said, trying to grab Aelor too but he already stood up from the bed, "Aelor!" You scolded him.

"What is this?!" The small child asked as he caressed the soft fur of the wolf.

"Your new pet, my boy," Cregan said, kneeling so Aelor was at the same height as the animal.

"Cregan?" You asked, confused and astonished, "mind to explain what is the meaning of this?"

You stood up from the bed, your daughter hanging from your arms as you walked back, far from the animal that started to move its ears each time Aelor would touch its belly.

Cregan left the wolf on the floor and walked towards you, removing the girl from your arms and holding her in his instead.

"Be careful, my love," he warned you, "you cannot strain yourself, not with our little pup growing inside you."

"Cregan, what is this?" You asked again, yelping as the wolf started to howl.

He laughed softly, "my love, you ride a dragon, how can you be scared of a wolf?"

"I'm a Targaryen, we bond with our dragons, they would never harm us."

"Starks bond with direwolves, love…" he explained softly, "Look at them, they already love each other and they've just met."

You looked at your son as the wolf licked his cheek and he laughed gleefully. Rickon was looking at them with excitement, for now he had another thing in common with his little brother. Your heart lighted up after seeing Aelor smiling like that after days of only seeing saddened eyes on him. That mere thought softened your heart, and made you sigh.

"Cregan…"

"Listen, I will take care of everything, okay?" He said, grabbing your hand and kissing it gently, "And I assure you, my love, nothing will happen to you because I will always be here to protect you."

"Whose idea was to get this… thing?"

"Uh… mine," he muttered, smiling shyly, "I told you I had to do something about it, I can't bear to see my family being miserable."

Your haze softened at his words; you were Cregan's weakness but he was certainly yours too. The only one that can make you bend.

"Alright, he can keep his pet, but it will stay away from me," you warned, "I don't want that thing being close to me, I feel that it will chew my face off."

Cregan only laughed at your words before kissing your lips.

Aelor stood up from the floor and ran towards Cregan, hugging him tightly as he cheerfully yelled, "thank you, kepa! thank you!"

You would've looked at the tender scene being displayed in front of you, but your eyes were fixed on the animal sitting on the carpet. The wolf made eye contact with you, and tilted its head as it sighed. With your lips pressed in a thin line, you heard at your daughter saying,

"Can I have one too, kepa?"

With widened eyes you looked at your daughter, seeing how her eyes shone with the sight of the direwolf just a few meters away from you.

"Oh, Gods…" you muttered, caressing your belly.

You started to beg for the next one to claim a dragon instead of a frightening wolf.

#request #cregan stark fanfic #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark x you #cregan stark #cregan stark x y/n #cregan stark x targ!reader #cregan stark fluff #fluff #fanfic #hotd x reader #hotd x y/n #hotd x you #house stark #house targaryen #house of the dragon #targ!reader

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turtletaubwrites · 12 days

Text

Numbers Game ~ Part 10

Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 3944

Ao3 Link

Summary: You find out if your frightening lovers will grant your request. But first, you've got some work to do.

Author's Note: It's good to be back 🐊🤡🗡

RECAP: You gave in to your wicked cravings, and had a mind-blowing night with the villains that own you. They even let your former lover join. Since you were so good for them, they offered to give you whatever you wanted, so you asked for them to be nicer to your sweet, hopeless clown.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Swearing, Smut, Established Relationship, Manipulation, Humiliation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Size Difference, Daddy Kink, Overstimulation, Hair-Pulling, Degradation, Cunnilingus, Bondage, Dom Crocodile (One Piece), Spanking, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

“What’s this,” Mihawk growled against your ear, his soothing hand starting to tease nails into your skin. “Our little rabbit is going against the one thing we’ve asked of her? Don’t lower yourself for that—“

“Don’t hurt her.”

That bitter snarl was emphasized by what sounded like a chair clattering to the floor along with it.

Mihawk’s fingers found your cheeks, digging in while he kept you from looking toward that voice by the door.

“Both of you need to calm down,” Crocodile scolded, his deep voice echoing through your bones. He brushed Mihawk’s hand away, tracing his own large fingers down the side of your face.

“Our girl is just too sweet. Isn’t that right, babydoll? You wanna please everyone, don’t you?”

A small whine left your throat, your body too spent for anything more.

“I suppose you’re right,” Mihawk relented, returning to his soft touches that made you sigh, but staying propped up on an elbow to toss a threat across the room. “You, clown. Don’t get bold just because we let you wet that pathetic dick of yours. We’re not as sweet as our little darling here.”

“Enough,” your scarred lover rasped, the comforting press of his lips to your temple sending your body into deep, delicious sleep.

Hushed voices pulled you from dreams, until you stretched across the giant bed. A large hand rubbed down your blanket covered back while the voices grew louder.

“How long until our order arrives? My eyes can’t take much more of this,” Mihawk drawled, and you opened your eyes to find him frowning at a gaudy top before tossing it onto a pile of other unworthy garments.

“Less than a week,” came Crocodile’s heavy voice. That frightening face gave you a smirk when you met his eyes, lifting your palm to his lips. “Mm, how’s my girl?”

This has to be a dream.

Melting under his attention, a soft gasp left you when Mihawk’s weight settled on your other side. Long, dangerous fingers caressed your face, before he breathed against your ear.

“Get ready for work, darling. We need more berry to buy you pretty things,” he teased, humming at your soft whines while you reached for him. “Such a greedy little rabbit…”

Crocodile huffed until Mihawk lifted you, carrying you to the large bathroom. He set you down on the plush rug in front of the mirror. Your ragged reflection would have kept all of your attention while the swordsman started the water for you, but instead, you stared at a stretch of that long counter between the sinks. All of your toiletries were lined up there, even the products you hadn’t been able to grab from Buggy’s suite.

“Your shower will get cold,” Mihawk remarked, interrupting your open-mounted confusion to leave a kiss on your shoulder as he left. “Your barely acceptable dress is on the back of the door. Don’t be too long, rabbit. Unless you need some help in there?”

You shook your head at his offer, still trying to jolt yourself awake. Showering in a daze, you marveled at all your little marks and aches, finally waking to the fact that last night had really happened. You had gotten your filthiest wish.

And now, you belonged to them.

A strange sense of satisfied acceptance washed over you as you took care of yourself for the bad men you could still hear speaking quietly in the next room. Mihawk had told you not to take too long, but you didn’t want to rush. You wanted to look your best for them.

And what a feeling it was.

The urge to squirm, to hide from their gaze almost overwhelmed you, but you curled your toes into the carpet, chewing on your lip. Mihawk’s golden eyes pierced you again, a hawk watching its prey before tearing it to shreds, while Crocodile’s pale gaze and subtle smirk raked over your skin with the pleasure of a man who’d just purchased a one of a kind, his prized possession.

Where’s Buggy?

That question bubbled through your mind, but you weren’t ready to ask it yet. At least not until you’d seen if he was in the lounge.

At least not until you’d basked in the feeling of being wanted by these dangerous men.

I really am crazy.

“Come here, pretty girl,” Crocodile ordered, standing up from the edge of the bed. You moved toward his deep voice without a thought, heart pounding in your ears while you craned your neck to look up at him. He hunched low for you to climb into his arms again.

“Oh,” you hesitated, taking a half step back, “I thought since... I know there should be at least one pair of acceptable–”

“I’m offering to carry my sweet girl,” his dark voice rumbled. You could see Mihawk in the corner of your eye, settling back down on the couch to watch the exchange. “Are you complaining about–”

“N-no, sir,” you interrupted him, voice high as you tried to think. “I just think if we look through all the shoes, you won’t have to carry me any–”

Crocodile's speed tore a surprised yelp from you. He didn’t hurt you, but from one moment to the next, he went from towering over you, to sitting back on the bed with you standing between his thighs, his hook around your neck.

“Didn’t you promise to be a sweet girl for Daddy?”

“I…” you breathed, unable to string a coherent thought together while he stroked your hair, that cool metal around your neck making you shiver. Mihawk's quiet laughter floating through the air didn’t help.

“I’ve been letting your feelings for the clown slide, sweetheart. But now you’re interrupting me? Now you’re complaining about me taking care of my girl? Now you won’t even answer a simple question,” he accused, pressing thick fingers into your jaw. “You promised me you’d be a sweet girl, and I don’t like liars.”

“B-but, sir–”

“Still talking back,” he tutted, bringing his forehead down to yours. “And not even calling me by my proper name. Such a brat.”

The fear in your stomach twisted into something else, a breathy moan leaving your lips when he forced you over his knee. Your legs were between his as you were bent over one of his large thighs. His hook hung loose around your throat while your head and arms dangled freely toward the floor on the other side. That deadly metal wasn’t hurting you, or holding your body into any position, but he let it sit against your skin. A constant reminder that you would always be vulnerable, always be in danger, no matter how many pretty words and gifts they showered you with.

The reminder of that danger had heat pooling in your core, your hips lifting up to meet his view. You couldn’t help but writhe, pressing your thighs together.

“Hm, so you’ve been acting up because you’re feeling greedy,” he growled, his warm hand smoothing the dress up your thighs until it collected around your waist, revealing your soaked panties. “Didn’t I already tell you I’d give you everything you want?”

You let out a whine as those thick fingers teased along that flimsy, wet fabric. He ghosted over your clit, trailing slick around your thighs while you ached for more.

“Answer me, brat,” Crocodile fumed, a breathy scream leaving your throat as he twisted those fingers around the middle of your drenched panties to yank them up toward his growling face, creating delicious, almost painful pressure against your clit, the rough pull stretching through your sensitive flesh.

“Y-yes, you did! You promised everything,” you cried out, back arching at the tug of fabric against your hips, sure that it was about to tear.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, d-daddy.”

“That’s a start,” he huffed, dragging your panties halfway down your thighs, while Mihawk continued to chuckle across the room.

“You got something to say,” Crocodile threatened the swordsman, his hand smoothing territorially over your exposed skin.

“Not at all,” your golden eyed lover teased, meeting your fluttering gaze when you twisted your neck to find him. “I’m just admiring your technique. I have a feeling our little rabbit might need to take a few more punishments. I think she might even enjoy it, isn’t that right, slut?”

The sigh his filthy words sent through you loosened your body again, earning a low hum from the man that had you at his mercy.

“If you want us to hurt you, all you gotta do is ask,” Crocodile’s deep voice scolded. His palm smoothed over your ass, your thighs, your dripping cunt, smearing your slick across your skin. “You don’t need to act like an ungrateful little brat.”

His hand lifted, and you’d had a feeling it was coming, but there was no way you could have prepared for the sharp sting of his massive hand. It covered so much of your skin it made you dizzy, yet even through the pain, your core pulsed with heat, toes curling as you arched your back.

“Not even fucking sorry, are you?”

You couldn’t answer through your vulgar moan, or Mihawk’s taunting laughs as he pulled up a chair closer to the show.

“Even after all that attention last night, you still had to act up,” Crocodile asked, dragging a finger through your wet folds. Your sensitive flesh twitched as he teased around your clit, then threatened around the rim of your asshole. “I didn’t think this lovely body could take much today, but if my girl is so fucking desperate for abuse that she’ll act like a spoiled little cunt, then maybe we should stuff you ‘til you can’t complain anymore. Is that what you’re asking for, brat?”

Tears streamed from your eyes that had rolled white from another sharp spank, and from Mihawk’s rough fingers fisting into your hair.

There was no way you could speak. No way you could say yes, or no to anything while your skin tingled with intoxicating pain. You were overcome with sensation, with need, with the freedom of giving up all control.

“Mm, I think our girl is drunk,” Mihawk mused, leaning down to watch your tongue lolling out of your mouth. “I don’t think she’s ready for this sort of fun yet. We need a word, don’t we, little rabbit? Do you need to stop?”

A warbled moan left your throat while he paused.

“Are you ready to have all your pretty holes fucked open again, or do you still need some time to rest?”

This slurred moan came with a pathetic wiggle, bringing soft laughs from both of these bad men.

“Alright, sweetheart. I’ll forgive you today,” Crocodile hummed, Mihawk helping him pull you into his arms. “Let’s get you cleaned up, and get some breakfast. Then you can tell me all about how sorry you–”

Whining against the heat of his chest, you pulled at his scarf, struggling to get close enough to feel his lips on yours.

“Try not to break her,” Mihawk laughed while you clawed at that silky vest. “I’ve got morning plans anyway. I’ll make sure breakfast is set up after an appropriate amount of time. We still need our little rabbit to do some work today.”

“I’ll be gentle,” your scarred lover threatened, tossing you onto the bed when the door closed. He pulled off his scarf and vest, but left the rest on as he crawled between your legs.

He pulled those ruined panties off of your writhing body, admiring the mess he’d made of you.

“Please…”

“Hm, is that the first thing you should be saying to me right now?”

He breathed against your inner thighs, his fingers playing in the slick around your entrance. You almost got lost again, but pulled yourself into the moment. Those menacing eyes burned into yours while you swore yourself to him.

“I’m sorry, daddy. I promise I’ll be a good girl.”

“There ya go,” he praised, pressing a sensuous kiss to your clit. “All I wanna do is take care of you, sweetheart. Gonna listen to your daddy from now on?”

“Yes, I promise,” you moaned, his tongue already so close to destroying you again

“That’s my girl.”

It was usually Mihawk’s evil voice and wicked words that could make you come in an instant, but Crocodile’s deep rumble of praise and ownership as he lapped up your need sent you screaming his name, mussing up that slick backed hair while you pulled him toward you, coming hard all over that menacing face.

You could barely move while he crawled up your body, letting you lick your mess off of his skin before he kissed you for what felt like hours. He was so much bigger than you, but he never crushed you. Under his touch, you felt precious, like something to be protected, enjoyed, treasured.

It was a whole other high than the one you had felt when he'd bent you bent over his knee.

“Come on, sweet girl. Let’s get some food.”

Crocodile had helped you get presentable again, and you hadn’t argued when he knelt down to carry you. His strong, comforting arms held you through the halls, and you realized that you might actually miss them carrying you everywhere.

What a difference a few days can make.

“Your food got cold,” Mihawk drawled over his espresso. “They’re bringing something else.”

Crocodile lit a cigar after he set you down, that little table on the balcony making you feel suddenly exposed. All the pirates and workers down below could look up and see the ex warlords having breakfast with their pet. Mihawk’s almost bored voice broke you out of those thoughts.

“Your work yesterday was well done. The fact that you were able to secure funding from a new backer so soon is impressive. Do you have other contacts that would be willing to part with a few berry for us?”

“I’m not sure,” you confessed quietly, trying to get back into business mode. “I had quite a few wealthy clients that were loyal to me, and they always have friends in their little rich people circles. I don’t know how many would want to be associated with…”

Your wide eyes flicked between them until Mihawk gave a tiny smirk, Crocodile’s laugh relaxing your nerves.

“I’ve had plenty of dealings with rich idiots,” Crocodile grunted, putting out his cigar as the breakfast plates were taken away. “In my experience, the best way to get them to loosen their purse strings is to make them feel special.”

“Go on,” Mihawk waved his hand, but Crocodile only had eyes for you.

“What do you think would get more of these wealthy fools to throw their berry away, sweetheart?”

Your first thought seemed too simple, and you didn’t want to disappoint the men before you. But your mind went blank, and you didn’t want to take too long.

“A party.”

Mihawk carried you to the lounge, giving a satisfied hum when you let your head fall, resting against the crook of his neck.

“Why do you smell like that,” you wondered aloud, wanting to crawl out of your skin for asking something so rude.

He sat you in your chair, and you thought you were going to get away with it until he perched on your desk, pulling your chin up so he could study you.

“Smell like what, little rabbit?”

“I… I don’t know,” you almost paused, the slightest tilt of his head making you pull panicked words from your lips. “Normally you smell so good, but— y-you still smell good, I just…”

Mihawk gave a real laugh, releasing your chin as he threw his head back. You caught eyes with Crocodile across the room while you waited to see if this deep laughter would be good or bad for you.

“Don’t be so scared, pet,” he soothed, the barest hint of color gracing his cheeks as his breathing returned to normal. “I’m impressed. You’ve shown yourself to be quite perceptive. That can be very useful.”

Dracule fucking Mihawk tapped the tip of your nose.

“Go ahead, rabbit. See what you can smell.”

Dangerous fingers moved in front of your face, and after another moment of fear, you grabbed his arm. Closing your eyes, you tried to be subtle as you sniffed his skin, his sleeve, the heat of his palm warming your cheek while you smelled his wrist.

“It smells… dusty, like you were out on the sand but…” He stayed silent, and you opened your eyes to find him observing you, still waiting. “It’s like dirt, but a little bit sour.”

He kissed your cheek before handing you a notebook and pen.

“Crocodile, our little darling is a bloodhound. Maybe she can be our poison sniffer,” he chuckled to himself, leaving you with an open mouth and zero explanations.

“I think we can find better uses for her.”

“What–”

“You’ve wasted enough time today, rabbit,” Mihawk scolded, cracking a book as he lounged at his own desk.

“Write a list of all of your contacts,” Crocodile cut in, your head snapping toward his desk on the other side of the large room. “Make sure to include personal details, business associations, any leverage that could be used against them, your opinion on how best to gain their support, etc. We’re gonna need a good guest list for that party.”

“But–”

“But what, sweetheart,” Crocodile tested, earning a squeaked, “nothing,” from you before you went to work.

When you dove into this new life, you had done the proper things first. You had resigned from your position, contacted all of your clients to thank them for the opportunity to work with them, and you had turned in all of their private files.

Sure, your personal life was left in shambles, but you hadn’t burned any professional bridges. If you ever needed to leave Buggy, you would have been able to find another job easily.

Although, now you were wishing you’d hung onto those private files. At least you’d kept all of your client’s contact information, if not their financial secrets.

But you did have a really good memory.

Even through lunch and dinner, your mind was caught, pulling up more and more from your memories that could be helpful.

Writing lines of information that could be used to hurt people.

I’m a villain now.

You shook that thought away as you wrote down the details of a mistress and lovechild whose trust fund you’d helped set up discreetly, for a rather impressive fee.

Maybe I wasn’t that good before anyway.

The excuses you’d built up in your mind back then fizzled out when Crocodile took your notebook, carrying you to the couch where Mihawk waited with a glass of wine.

“Can I keep the notebook,” you pleaded, playing with the pen he’d left in your fingers.

“Work’s over. Don’t want my sweet girl overdoing it.”

He tossed the pen aside, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as you settled between them. Mihawk brought your fingers to his lips, chuckling softly while you melted into that sinful, green couch.

“Would you like to know what that nose of yours smelled earlier, darling,” the swordsman teased, pressing dangerous lips to your wrist.

Relaxation and curiosity moving through you, but before you could reply, something in his words stopped you. Your tired brain struggled to puzzle it out, struggled to remember what you were missing.

“Where’s Buggy?”

Guilt ripped through you. You’d thought of him once today, and had chosen not to ask about him so that you could keep enjoying yourself.

I haven’t even thought about him all day. I’m such a selfish–

“Why do you care,” Crocodile asked. His voice was even, but with a tension rumbling through it, just enough for your breath to catch. He set his large hand on the back of your neck as he tilted toward you, Mihawk mirroring the turn while he massaged his fingers, almost too hard, into the meat of your palm. Your lips parted, but nothing came out.

“You haven’t asked about him all day,” Mihawk noted, that venomous tease coating his words. “Was our little treasure just following orders? Or could it be that you forgot all about that worthless clown?”

A muffled noise behind you made you gasp, the tension on the couch cutting you off from the rest of the world.

“Go on, she finally asked,” Crocodile jerked his head over his shoulder. Mihawk nodded, kissing your knuckles before moving behind the couch.

The swordsman dragged something heavy, giving a small grunt as he lifted Buggy, tossing him onto the coffee table before you.

Buggy’s name fell silently from your lips as his tired eyes took you in.

His hands were bound in large cuffs. Sea prism stone, like the pair his new recruits had been able to steal for him during their escape from Impel Down. It was probably his own pair, trapping his body in one piece while he listened to you enjoying your time with his torturers.

You thought you’d let this guilt go, but it was all piling on again as you watched Mihawk pull the gag from Buggy’s mouth, wiping long fingers on the clown’s deflated, red suit before sitting beside you again.

“My sweet girl was so good for us last night,” Crocodile breathed against your temple, his grip around your neck pressing a little tighter. “You asked us to be a little nicer to the clown, so we were.”

“I…”

“That’s right,” Mihawk purred, rubbing your hand again while he pressed a large key into your palm. “Instead of beating him for his insolence last night, we put his fate in our little rabbit’s hands. How were we to know that you’d forget all about your former lover? We would have given you his key this morning if you’d cared enough about this trash to wonder where he was.”

“Don’t cry, sweetheart,” Crocodile soothed, kissing the slow tears that were beginning to stain your cheeks. “We’re not gonna kill him, okay? And we’ll try not to hurt him. We need this dumbass to be the face of Cross Guild, remember? You'll even get spend some time with him, make sure he doesn’t fuck up our little party.”

“I’m okay,” Buggy choked, a failed smile on his lips as he glanced down at the key in your palm. “Mind giving me a hand?”

“Oh,” you spluttered, shaky fingers freeing him from the icy stone.

“Thanks, doll,” he winked, before he was half running, half floating toward the back of the room. Toward the bathroom.

“Idiot,” Crocodile grumbled.

A giggle escaped your lips, and you felt the pressure of sharp eyes. But you giggled again. Your silly clown racing straight to the bathroom after being chained up all day made your cheeks hurt while you tried to fight more laughter.

Especially when he came floating back in, his feet running behind while he propped himself on an elbow on the coffee table.

Possessive fingers dug into your skin, your body relaxing against the touch of the deadly men on the couch beside you.

But even with the weight of their power, their dominance over you, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the ridiculous man on the table. The man who should be angry, or scared, or trying to run away. Who should be scheming, and leaving your traitorous heart behind.

The man who laid there with a wild grin on his face, wiggling his fingers while he gave you another wink with those crystal blue eyes.

“So, I hear my pretty star is throwing a party.”

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

a/n: I missed my Buggy boy so much 🤡🥰 Also, I'm dying to know how you felt about our Daddy Crocodile. I don't think his devil fruit powers would be able to drain all the moisture from me (😅 sorry)

Part 11

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

#cross guild x reader #mihawk x reader #sir crocodile x reader #buggy x reader #sir crocodile smut #mihawk smut #buggy smut #cross guild smut #crocodile x reader #reader insert #fem!reader #one piece x reader #x reader #one piece fanfic #buggy fanfiction #dracule mihawk x reader #smut #one piece smut #turtletaub fics

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theincredimazingbablesquatch · 3 months

Text

Idk why but for some reason I find it funny that half the gay guys I've met are like "If you smell like anything other than this very specific combination of health and beauty products you are a disgusting creature unworthy of my attention" and meanwhile the other half are just like "i want to be smacked in the face by the sweatiest ballsack imaginable"

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fictional-actors-bracket · 4 months

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Quarterfinals 2

Propaganda under the cut

Hermie the Unworthy: "Known for his method acting. Originally preparing for his role as the Joker in a stage play adaption of the 2019 movie, he then cycles through many other DC villains as various thematically appropriate traumas happen to him. (Half his face burned - two face, poisoned by a tree witch - poison ivy, needs to trap people with riddles - riddler). But he can do more than just Batman villains, hermie can become anyone. He can become a manager at a pizza place, Kiera knightly from bend it like Beckham and even a goth girl whose dad is about to die. This is because he’s just such a great actor (and also because one of his biological dads is revealed to be a shapeshifting trickster being. The other one is Satan, yes he’s the product of mpreg dont worry about it). He doesn’t act for the money but for the love of the craft (and crippling identity issues) and he deserves the win bc he never wins anything fucking else."

More propaganda for Hermie

Bonus

Extra propaganda

Even more propaganda

Juza Hyodo: "Juza had been wanting to be an actor since middle school, but because of his scary appearance he didn't get to try it until his senior year of high school. He wanted to act in order to "become someone else", but in the process of acting he learnt to embrace himself instead, and to use that as fuel for his acting. He's extremely passionate and this passion is contagious to his fellow troupemates. He may not be the leader of the troupe, but he sure is its heart. Despite his wanting to change himself at the start, even from his initial scenes he's ready to face who he is, and to show vulnerability on stage. This and passion are key attributes for any performer to have."

More Propaganda for Juza

Even More Propaganda

If that's not enough propaganda check here

Guess what, more propaganda

Have some more

There really is a lot to say about him

#poll #dungeons and daddies #dndads hermie #dndads #hermie the unworthy #juza hyodo #a3 #a3! act addict actors #a3!#actors bracket

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 1 year

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Can I have a interaction separately with Crewel daughter who graduated and accepted to be the bride of the guys ( Maulles, Leona, Vil, Idia, Silver, and Jamil ) saying liked

" Even if the world will or might hate you, I will not as you are my love, so please let me carry your burdens as well as you carry mine we are equal in this marriage "

Giving a soft smile at them and holding their hand softly in her much smaller ones, as here eyes she truly loved them, even more she even carrying their child in her large belly

Okay one milestone at a time

Crewel’s daughter isn’t doing anything with anyone without preventative measures

“Because dogs who aren’t neutered don’t deserve to play in the pen!”

^^^Crewels words not mine

But let's say after graduation

Everyone’s going their separate ways and for whatever reason you’ve decided you can’t stand to let them leave

And those words kind of sound like the declaration of someone proposing after a heap load of an event

More specifically a reputation shattering one:

Malleus Draconia

Imagine his overblot just being that bad or just someone outwardly announcing how much of a monster they think he is for simply existing Rollo

He’s feeling disheartened and wondering if he even deserves you since he’s such a monster

And when you finally climb up on his perch on top of the school you keep your balance

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

“...I cannot help but worry I truly am as they say…a monster…perhaps that is all I am.”

You sigh tapping on his shoulder and beckoning him to stand

And like your good dragon he does

“I wanted to do this when we planned to go to the Briar Valley Ball but here goes.”

You try to kneel down but he stops you simply because he’s just worried you’re falling

But you shake him off to continue your kneel

popping the question with a large obsidian and emerald encrusted ring

He’s blushing, his eyes are glowing, his tails out and waving in excitement, and his wings are fluttering about as well

He’s happily accepting you’re official engagement

He might have not really understood why you started kneeling but he knew what rings meant and the words “Marry me” meant

He’s scooping you up and your not going to be able to go home without a claiming mark or two

Your father was probably well-aware this was something you had been preparing for

And really really reluctantly encouraging you as you detailed your custom ring for Malleus

“At least if I’m giving my sweet pup away it’ll be to the most powerful magic caster in Twisted Wonderland.”

Leona Kingscholar

Either the media has gotten a hold of his overblot situation or a really public squabble with Falena

He’s retreated from the castle or hiding away in a nearby abandoned building

He really just wanted to be alone

He was so angry because it was always like this

And at this rate some other obstacle was going to come in between you and him

How was he supposed to mow that down when everyone’s so busy whispering about every little thing about him

So you’re cautious making plenty of identifying noise that its you coming by so that he isn’t startled

He doesn’t bother holding back his frustration maybe even telling you about his worries that even he is unworthy of you

“Leona.”

“And I bet you just want to leave now, right?”

“Leona.”

“Don’t even try to lie, you might as well think I’m the level of dirt aren’t I!?”

“Leona.”

“And even worse he’s just going to pretend–”

“Leona shut up and let me propose!”

“...What?!”

It takes him a while to register when you shove the box into his toned chest

But he wouldn’t have it any other way

Declaring your love for him he’s so pleased

He might even cry

But he was happy that for certain you’d be his

Now it probably be pretty counter productive if he tried to stage an assassination plot, right?

Crewel’s probably chugging away at some pixie rum as he wonders where he went wrong

“Of all the motley curs it had to be him…maybe its the muscles…what in the Great Seven’s does she see in him of all people?!”

Vil Schoenheit

Any major smear campaign really that might have turned a good chunk of fans away or really rooted out the people he decided to keep close

Either hits hard and it hurts

In an established relationship he has no doubt you won’t leave him

Right?

You’ll most definitely stay by his side while he gets through this rough patch

Right?

He isn’t too much right?

Too much to deal with right?

Right?!

He needs you to tell him how much you love him more than anytime ever

He’ll need you to keep repeating it to him as he falls asleep when he wakes up

Heck, send him a recording not that he doesn’t already have a library full

He’ll smile and confidently defend his name to the end but he needs you more than ever

He’s not above locking you up if your unwilling

Its that bad

“Vil come to the gazebo, I have something to tell you.”

He fears the worst

Are you really trying to leave him now of all times

He has the potion in his pocket as he steels himself not to start begging you right now

But he’s even more caught off guard when your grabbing his hand and holding it to your lips as you look into his eyes

“Marry me Vil Schoenheit.”

He’s going to cry as he says yes and you put that giant diamond and amethyst ring on his finger

“You know we’ll have to wait until this scandal dies down?”

“Why should we? This doesn’t concern them, your married to me aren’t you?”

He’s probably fallen ten times harder now

Crewel is resigned, he kind of thought this would happen

“What can I say? She has her father’s eye for talent and theatrics.”

Idia Shroud

He’s revealed to have overblotted or outed as the major gamer behind some of the top rankings

He feels betrayed most of all

Gaming was his out and thanks to some vengeful fans of another gamer they almost ruined to for him

Or bringing more shame to the STYX corporation then he meant

First Ortho, then his overblot, now this

Let him be the little spoon

And kiss him all over

And don’t leave the bed without him

This is a hard one, his hair makes it hard for him to go anywhere without someone recognizing him

“I’ll just never go outside again! Yup that's it!”

“Don’t be so dramatic! How am I supposed to marry you if you do that!?”

“Huh!”

You’ll do something officially for him of course but the ‘m’ word in general has him spiraling alone

so maybe prefacing your declaration with this will ease the blow

Go through a life altering crisis just to get the equivalent of a goddess to marry him?!

It was totally worth it

Now Ortho’s happy he just don’t know what you did to give his brother this sudden motivation to clean up his act

Crewel’s also getting the Pixie Rum for this one

“Maybe she’s fond of the lacking breeds of the bunch? I don’t understand it in the slightest.”

Silver Vanrouge

Fae community looking down on him probably

‘Why is a human even trying to protect our king? That’s quite the insult in and of itself’

He hates this

He hates it most of all

Despite what many might think he knows they think he’s weak

Same goes for other humans except that they know he’s…just out of touch

“Why…is it like this…?”

Lilia is there for him and Malleus comforts him but it doesn’t help

Where can he truly be someone that fits

Someone worthy of you in the first place

He’s not one to bottle his feelings but he doesn’t want everyone to hear

He’s also debating if he should finally take his father up on his advice to lock up who you love dearly

Anyway in blades of grass as your cushion he rests his head in your lap

“Am I truly worthy of you? Can I even prove that I am with all that I’m lacking? I went through Night Raven and have still found I’m so much lesser than you should have…”

He turns lying face flat into your thighs as he bows down to you

“Do you even still want me?!”

You lift his head declaring your love

“I’m going to marry you, Silver. ‘Want’ is an understatement.”

Crewel is holding the bridge of his nose as tightly as possible as he listens to your future father-in-law go on and on

“Ain’t that nice? We’re going to legally be a family!”

“Whatever. Don’t talk to me until the day of.”

“Don’t be like that Papa-in-law!”

“AGH Of all the picks of the litter it had to be him!?”

Jamil Viper

Al Asim family and his family finding out about his overblot and casting him out

He’s prepared for this

Yup

He knew it would happen and it isn’t surprising

Not to mention he’s free now

…

What was he going to do now

He couldn’t demand to keep you and not know what he was doing with his life

He really dropped the ball on this one

He didn’t expect them to find out so soon

Or for his entire family to cut him off without a second word

He couldn’t believe he was saying it but he was almost happy Kalim was retaliating at them on his behalf

Relying on Kalim in his own debt felt even worse now

This would most certainly dent his plans to use snake charmer to travel with him

You’re going to have to pull him out of his work

Which he most certainly has buried himself into

Cook him some curry and take him on a date on the magic carpet under the moonlight

“I understand you might be trying to send me off with a nice date and my favorite food but—”

He has no intentions of letting you leave him

“You think I’m trying to break this off? And I thought we established that you were smarter than Kalim?”

He’s stunned as you declare your love for him giving him a deep kiss right after for good measure

Crewel is actually pleased with this matchup on the surface but even the most loyal pups have their flaws

“Why must you pick the pups from Night Raven, darling daughter? They aren’t the worst of the litter…but they have their own…kinks.”

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