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#buggy writes
bug-in-a-body · 1 year
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sometimes when i hear you say something i cant help but imagine you in an orchard
an orchard where the trees bear words instead of fruit
and bushes grow punctuation
and i imagine you walking up and down and through the rows of trees
scanning each of them for the perfect words
and after a while of searching and plucking
you go home with your basket full
and carefully string everything together on a thread
until a sentence is formed
and you hang the sentence above a doorway
so proud of what youve made
and the sentence describes the matter of conversation in such a perfect way that i cant help but wonder if you changed the very fabric of reality to make it fit
but i know you didnt
your mind just works in such a way that makes life worth living
and mine cant trust that
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kookoofufu · 4 months
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Obsessed with how buggy kept his apprenticeship with Roger a secret. You'd think a guy who calls himself flashy would be as vocal as possible about his captain, the adventures they had, his connection to an emperor. But no, he never talked about it, and it's not just because he's a coward.
Buggy stayed in the same sea where his captain was killed for over a decade, the weakest sea in the world. He sought a lesser treasure no one cared about, terrorized small towns that couldn't fight back, didn't stay in contact with his former crew. These aren't the actions of a man seeking fame and fortune. If anything, he was actively sweeping himself under the rug of history.
Buggy wasn't biding his time in east blue, he was hiding. And now we know he was hiding because he didn't believe he deserved to chase his real dreams when Shanks existed, who had so much potential. So he stayed stagnant and comfortable in his little corner of the world, pretending he was satisfied, until a rubber boy jolted him out of his complacency, wearing a familiar straw hat...
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phantomlifes · 8 months
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tasm who got sprayed with an aphrodisiac, so he goes to his roommate and fucks her well into the morning 🤭🤭🤭
A/N this deviated a bit but i needed to spread the munch agenda…hope you can forgive me friend…..
peter enters the apartment like a hurricane, his shaking body and heaving breaths impossible to ignore.
“peter?” you ask, eyes wide with concern. “what’s wrong?”
he doesn’t answer at first as he looks at you. of course you’d be wearing tiny pajama shorts right now, when he has no control of where his eyes land. he’s trying hard to catch his breath, his hands clenching into fists. he brushes the hair curled with sweat off his forehead and forces himself to look you in the eyes, raising his head higher. he anchors himself on your kitchen counter behind him. “aphrodisiac.” he breathed. “came home for my research.” he gulped, pushing himself to his bedroom, still evidently woozy. “gotta be an antidote.” he started to sway to the side, and you moved on instinct for him to fall in your arms.
“easy.” you drawled, arms shaking with his weight. you’ve never seen him in this state before. “where’s the antidote? do we have it?” you try to keep your voice level, but the urgency escapes your tongue in droves.
he shakes his head, looking up at you. his brown eyes have been blown even darker, the pupil completely swallowing his irises. “lab. somewhere. gotta go.” he pushes off of you, but you grab his shaking hand.
“there is no way in hell i’m letting you leave here like this.” you took a deep breath, knowing the ethics of this are dubious at best, since you’ve been attracted to him since the day he moved in and he is technically drugged. he’s obviously in pain, and you can’t let him go out alone all the way to the lab to get the antidote. you don’t even know if he’d survive. “look. it’s an aphrodisiac. i….” you closed your eyes before you continued. “if it will take the pain away, you could….take it out on me.” you swallowed, trying to put it gently.
peter looks at you in shock, managing to push himself off the ground all the way. “you mean it?” he asks, looking straight at your lips. “because it would…” his voice trails off, cracking.
“yes.” you grab his shoulders. “i mean it”
peter immediately grabs your face with his large hands and pulls you into him, his lips sliding against yours in an anxious release. you didn’t imagine your first kiss going like this, but it doesn’t count, right? as soon as he gets a bit of control of himself, though, he slows down a little, capturing you in a breath-sucking kiss, both of you breaking away for air twice. “are you sure?” he asks again, his voice a low rasp this time. you nod and he urges you to jump, carrying you with a kiss into his bedroom.
he lays you on the bed as gently as he can, and you immediately make work of sliding off your shorts and underwear. he’s so obvious with his staring, it’s adorable. “can i?” his eyes wander down and he asks again in that low rasp. “please?”
the way he said please sent a shiver down your spine. “yeah.” you answered breathlessly. “what do you want?”
“my face buried in your thighs.” he responds instantly, with the cadence of a casual conversation for something so brazen. you stifle a gasp and nod. he wastes no time gripping your thighs and hooking them on his shoulders. “you’re fucking dripping, baby.” he remarks as he starts to explore with his fingers. “this for me? you like seeing me worked up?” he almost whispers.
“i think so.” you manage to get out in between gasps from his fingers brushing against your clit. “do…do that more.”
“this?” he asks, rubbing his thumb in circles. “you like that, baby?” you squeeze your eyes shut and throw your head back with a stifled moan as your answer, and he grins. he takes this opportunity to start putting his mouth to work, his tongue lapping crudely as his thumb resumes pressing all of your nerves. the way he’s sucking and licking is filthy, the wet noises, his hums of delight and your cries of pleasure create a cacophony of pornography. you buck your hips against his face, pulling him closer lightly by his hair and when he groans you feel it inside of you. you whine, arching your back and he has to pin your hips down with a hand. he pulls his face away for a second, his mouth glistening with a smirk. “now who can’t control themselves?”
“shut up.” you whined in embarrassment, grabbing his hair and pulling him back down. he breathed a laugh against your clit, and you squirmed as much as you could in his hold. you’re not gonna last. he hummed and spoke into you, “yes ma’am.” and you knew you were done for.
“peter?” you whimper in between heavy breaths. “gonna cum.”
“yeah, baby?” he pulls his face away a bit, still keeping his thumb in position, only switching it to take your clit between his lips. “go on. cum for me.”
that’s all it took for you to release all over his chin with a weak little cry, your voice hoarse and breathless. you try to catch your breath, laying your head back on his pillow. “alright…” you breathed. “just give me a second…and you could…we could-“
“-about that.” he interrupted you. “i….i already did?” he says in a question, almost like he’s embarrassed, stark contrast to what his tone was minutes ago. “the effects wore off. let’s just leave it at that…” he trailed off, coughing. you prop yourself up on your elbows.
“did…did you…” you look down. “cum in your suit just from eating me out?”
he takes a deep breath, looking at you up and down. “maybe.”
you fall back with a giggle, and he immediately gets defensive. “what?”
“nothing.” you shake your head, the blood rushing to your face. “just so fucking hot.”
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sordidmusings · 6 months
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Cuddle Drabbles - Straw Hats and the Three Unwise Men
A/N: Companion piece to my cuddle headcanons for these characters! While I was writing the headcanons, images of these scenes popped in my head so I decided to actually write them out for y'all
Includes! Zoro, Sanji, Nami, Luffy, Usopp, Mihawk, Buggy, and Shanks
Word Count: ~4.8k total, 500+ each
Warnings: gn!reader, brief suggestive allusions, opla lean but anime also in mind, sickeningly sweet, each of them is painfully soft for you and very in love, thought too long and hard on the pet names 🤡
I hope these make you smile ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊˚
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Zoro
Nami and Usopp giggled at you, making obnoxious kissy faces, while you rolled your eyes and continued petting Zoro’s hair. You couldn’t keep the smile off of your face though. The thought of how quickly they would rush to hide their mocking gestures if the swordsman on your lap simply rolled over added another level of amusement for you. The weight of Zoro’s head was comfortable on your thigh and the way he’d nestled his forehead and nose into your stomach had your heart fluttering. Your other hand was rubbing into his delt and bicep and he’d long since become puddy for you. You looked down on him lovingly and moved the hand in his hair down to scratch at the base of his skull. He let out a happy groan that you’re sure he wouldn’t want the others to keep for more teasing ammunition.
“C’mon hun, let’s get to bed,” you prompted softly. The sun had finished setting anyway. Not that he’d watched it for a second, too busy soaking up your attention. Zoro turns his head slightly to squint up at you. You’d never get tired of the bleary look he gives you when you rouse him from his rest. How such a handsome face could remind you so much of an over-tired toddler you’ll never know.
After staring for a few long seconds to make sure you were really going to make him move, Zoro got himself up with a sigh. He was nice enough to turn to you and give you his hands to help you stand even though both of you knew you didn’t need it. He just needed the excuse to keep touching you. All the way to the room, you held his hand in his favorite way; a palm at his wrist and fingers curling down to rest their tips in the creases of his own palm. It was born from the shy beginnings of touching each other, where everything was bursting with the adrenaline of “will they let me?” and relief at the physically spoken “yes” in return. He found that it let him reminisce at those moments while appreciating the familiarity you two have now.
The process of preparing for bed was swift. The way you both danced around each other looked rehearsed - a guiding hand here, brushing fingers there, mindless kisses everywhere in between. Zoro got into the hammock first, making sure to leave you room at his side. He had long since switched out his old hammock for a four-pointed one to give you both plenty of space. You always end up pressed together anyway.
It was an uncommon occasion when he was the one clinging to you in your bed, but you didn’t mind. You knew he needed the contact in the way he would fidget and stare at you until he decided that you’d given him enough of yourself to sate him that night. This night, that meant that you were snuggled into his side with your head on his chest, listening to his calming heartbeat and steady breathing. You’d caged one of his legs with yours, one stretched long beside it and the other resting over his thigh. He was comfortably spread out on his back, the arm behind you mostly lying limp, but from time to time it would come alive to hug you closer or rub along your back. Both of you inhaled long and full and sunk in deeply to the bedding and each other as you exhaled the day out.
Zoro placed one final kiss to your hairline with a lovingly mumbled “Night, pest.” 
Ah, you love this man and his allergy to conventional sentimentality.
“Goodnight, my sweet love.” 
Of course, there’s an exception for when it’s coming from you.
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Sanji
Sanji pretended not to notice how you’d get in his way in the kitchen just so that he would come up behind you in a hug and teeter-totter you back out from behind the counter. The gleeful laughter it got him every time was more than worth the extra task management. He’d go toe to toe with Luffy over a lunch so late it becomes dinner if that meant more time with you. Unluckily for Luffy’s impatient appetite, you knew this too. After leading you away once more, Sanji rubbed a cheek into the back of your shoulder before dragging his chin across it to whisper sweet words in your ear. 
“You’re sweeter than anything I could ever make; one more sample to help me get the taste right,” he breathed out before turning you and kissing you. Though there was no lack of passion, this kiss wasn’t meant to lead to anything; Sanji simply wanted to enjoy feeling you. Also, there were too many active flames in the kitchen for that level of distraction.
“You’re so kind keeping me company but you know I’m weak to a beautiful face,” he says softly. “Yours most of all.”
As if to prove his point, Sanji begins peppering your whole face in kisses. No one knows how to worship like this man; his lips were adoring and punctuated by nudges of his forehead against yours, eskimo kisses to your nose and cheeks and lips, and shuddering breaths warming the air you shared. He was cradling you, one hand guiding and supporting your head and one hand teasing your lower back while it held you flush together. One more searing kiss is placed on your lips before he is pulling away, trailing his hands last to touch you as long as possible.
You kept yourself busy distracting him, sometimes with questions and observations and sometimes with hugs and kisses. You knew Sanji’s palette was more refined than yours, but you also knew he meant it when he would feed you a bite of the food he was cooking because he wanted your opinion. It never failed to melt your heart; all he ever wanted was to include you and value you.
That’s why you always paid him back once you two were alone with the one thing he ever asked for: you. There were various ways he would indulge in you but tonight he just wanted to hold you and hoped that he could get you to understand how much he loves you with his endless compliments. You hoped that the adoration with which you looked at him and the tenderness with which you held him got him to understand that you always knew. It was an exchange you both would never cease, enjoying it too much and never feeling that anything was enough to express the expanse or depth of your adoration.
Sanji helped you drift off to sleep with soothing caresses to the thigh thrown over his waist and the senseless trails of his finders on your back. He cherished the weight of your head on his chest and continued to plant the occasional kiss on top of your head well after he knew you were already asleep. Like all his touches, they were for him as much as they were for you. He kept whispering sweet praises and promises to you, hoping they would reach you in your dreams.
“I am yours, my one and only love. Wherever you will go, I will follow.”
Nami
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Your day was filled, as it usually was, with Nami at your side. It started with you untangling from each other to leave the bed once there were no more reasonable excuses to stay together for just a few more minutes. Getting ready was filled with gentle bumps and languid leans against one another, still too sleepy for anything truly playful. Breakfast was eaten elbow to elbow but not thigh to thigh; she had instead hooked her leg over yours and kept it there. The whole time you felt the residual motions of her gently swinging foot massaging into the top of your thigh. It still astounded you how someone so tough could also be so adorable.
The activities of the day were always made co-operative. Sometimes that word got pushed to the bounds of its meaning (sitting back to back while studying something, tinkering with something sat at her feet while she watched the log pose, making sure to be in the same room for chores) and sometimes it was right at home (discussing plans and headings, combining efforts for anything requiring great strength, creating a two person assembly line for repetitive tasks). Either way, it made the mundane comfortable, the difficult surmountable, and the wondrous meaningful.
When night fell and all the day’s needs were met, you and Nami settled yourselves on the deck to enjoy the evening. Your legs were spread and she sat curled sideways between them, peeking out at the emerging stars from her place under your chin. You had brought out a cushion and blanket so neither the hard wood nor the ocean breeze would chase you in early. You placed yourselves against the center tangerine planter, drawn by the smell of leaves and bark and dirt. The fresh smell of the tangerine tree always made you feel close to her and it made her feel close to home.
“I’ll never get tired of this,” you began. Nami turned and nosed at your neck to urge you to continue. The barely-there touch radiated goosebumps across your skin. “Holding you, having quiet time with you. You’re so amazing and I get to be the one to share this stuff with you.” You felt a shy smile spread against your skin and your chest flooded with swirling warmth. “Seriously, Nami, you’re so strong and intelligent and beautiful and kind and you deserve the world you’re going to chart.” That smile pressed a tender kiss into you. The shakiness of her breath on your neck afterward let you know how much the words meant to her.
“I love you,” Nami mumbled, still somehow timid about saying it to you. She was unpracticed in baring her feelings, but she still tried for you. You rubbed your chin over her head once, appreciating her feather-soft hair, before settling to rest your cheek back against her. Your palm found the back of her hand and you coaxed your fingers between hers. Her thumb brushes your pinky. You bring that hand to your face and kiss the delicate skin on the inside of her wrist.
“I love you too, dear heart.” You used to feel silly giving her such an old fashioned sentimental name, but the way she would choke up or hold tighter any time you said it let you know to never stop saying it, even when she received the title as easily as she swept through the seas.
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Luffy
The D in Monkey D Luffy now stands for Dependent because he only ever functioned with you at this point. Not in the way that he’d become a sobbing needy mess if you weren’t around, but in the way that something felt Wrong if you weren’t touching him or at least within reach (thankfully his reach is longer than anyone else’s). Everything else would be left on standby while the ever impulsive man would find you to fix it without even thinking about what he was doing. That behavior had tipped you off to his soft spot for you, but the way your plate was the only one he left untouched by his stealing hands made it inarguable.
His impulsive nature also led him to hold (read: “manhandle”) you however was easiest or however Luffy felt like at the time. At first you felt a bit out of your element being at his whims and finding yourself in strange or intimate positions in front of others, but you eventually stopped caring. Sometimes it was even amusing to see the exasperated and perturbed looks you’d get from the crew if one of you was hooked around the other in a particularly creative way. One of your favorites is when he’d swing and carry you around upside down with his arms holding tight around your waist and your legs bouncing above them. It made you feel like a kid again and it was fun to jokingly threaten the others with your kicking legs at eye level. Luffy loved being able to just grab and play with you in a way that was 98% innocent (the other 2% was enjoying the view he got).
You were spending the end of the day as you usually did; sitting together on the figurehead of the Going Merry, watching the dark waves and sky. Luffy had his arms snug around you and his legs spread to frame yours. The warmth of his body felt heavenly pressed against you, contrasting perfectly with the crisp ocean breeze on your face. You held his precious hat in your hands, keeping it safe so he was free to snuggle his face into you. His hands would knead at your sides or move to squeeze yours lovingly. His swinging feet had his legs shifting consistently next to yours, only interrupted by his occasional need to give you a full body squeeze because his affection was too great to hold back anymore. He was only ever still when he was sleeping and even then he’d still manage to toss and turn whenever the whim struck him.
You turned enough to look back and see his smile, which only grew when you planted a big kiss on his cheek. His movements slowed when you trailed the tip of your nose along his cheek and kissed the corner of his mouth. You were pulling out a languid Luffy that only you got to enjoy.  
“Come on, sunshine, let’s go to bed.”
Luffy nodded in agreement then leaned his forehead into your temple. “Only if you’ll be there too,” he bargained brightly.
“I’ll think about it,” you teased, as if you could even remember the last night you spent without him wrapped around you.
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Usopp
Flustered Usopp never fails to unlock your cute aggression. That’s why you’ve taken the liberty of snuggling up to him when the crew all gathered on the deck to unwind with drinks (sans Luffy who was getting a mustache from his usual milk). You’ve been together for awhile, the crew has known you’ve been together for awhile, the crew knew even longer than that that both of you were fools for each other, and yet Usopp still gets all shy. You’ve checked in with him to make sure it wasn’t an anxious feeling, to which he responded that “the brave Captain Usopp never feels anxious”. At your deadpan look, he eventually answered much more sincerely, saying that it was more of an overwhelmed feeling. A good overwhelmed.
So you didn’t worry when you squished into his side, arms snug around his waist to make absolutely sure that there’s not a single millimeter keeping you apart. It didn’t make you pause when having your legs thrown across his lap caused him to chuckle nervously and talk through stutters. You didn’t back off when his voice cracked from the feeling of your lips pressing just below his collarbone. It was cute that it still affected him so much with the feeling of your lips muffled through his shirt.
As the night wore on and the bottles emptied, Usopp got bolder and you got sleepier. It was the perfect combination really; by the time you became boneless he was no longer afraid to pull you into his lap and indulge the both of you in affection. His skittering touches turned into sweeping caresses across your back, gentle scratching at your scalp, and soothing massages on your legs. Usopp took his time to enjoy touching you and you soaked everything in, letting it lull you further into hazy relaxation.
The transfer from deck to bedroom was a blur of leaning bodies, pulling hands, and stumbling feet. Giggles played out as well, of course; the free kind that cared not for volume control, acceptable timbre, or suppressing snorts. This whirlwind of sound and motion continued all the way until you collapsed against the bed. Thankfully the two of you had the wherewithal to fling your shoes and most of your clothes off before you fell into the mess of plush blankets and pillows. 
“How do you want me,” you asked in your most ridiculous parody of a sexy purr.
Usopp laughed and then took his time sashaying over to you, swaying more than necessary due to the influence of fruity drinks. He crawled on top of you on his hands and knees and leaned in close to you, faking a pass at your lips to then make his way to your ear. You awaited something teasing or sensual.
“Little spoon!” he said cheerfully and plopped into his side next to you.
You smiled cheerfully at his playful toying with the mood. You quickly turned and shimmied yourself backwards to lay flush to his chest. Usopp greeted you with a crushing, cute-aggression fueled hug. The way your heart pounded with joy made you thankful he was holding you tight, lest it jump right out of your chest. You returned the pressure for a moment with your own arms around his, before you both relaxed into the embrace.
“I need bedtime stories, please,” you said. You knew he’d be more than happy to give you what you wanted.
There was a kiss to the back of your head. “Of course, snuggle bug.”
You drifted off in your favorite way; wrapped in Usopp’s arms and half-listening to the fantastical tales his sleepy voice wove for you.
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Mihawk
Laying with Mihawk was a treat for the senses. All of his strong muscles became soft pillows for you to lay on and he radiated steady warmth like blankets fresh from the drier. You don’t know how he managed it, but he always smelled so good like an expensive blend of scented oils you’d only find on the back shelves of worldly markets. The weight of his hands and arms on you was soothing and made you feel protected. When his hands weren’t holding you to him, they were lightly massaging into you, working out all your stresses from the day. When he’d brush his cheek and jaw across your temple, his facial hair would tickle you teasingly or have your skin tingle pleasantly.
It made it all the more difficult when you needed to get up. Right now you wanted up because you had gotten into his hold immediately upon entering your shared room, which meant you had no time to change. At this point you had become settled enough to yearn for comfier clothes to sleep in. You moved your hands from grasping his thick shoulder and tracing shapes on his pec to plant them into the bed and lift yourself up. You pushed but couldn’t make it even a millimeter away. In fact, you’ve caused reverse progress; Mihawk's arms were now cinched around your waist, pressing you even closer. You arched your back to raise your head and shoulders. He was already staring at you. Though his whole face was relaxed, the way he stared unblinking felt accusatory.
“I have to change,” you explain, though you do move your hand to draw on his chest again. You can't help it - it’s right there. Mihawk continued to stare deeply into your eyes with those yellow irises that always had you feeling naked and vulnerable. Good thing he was always there to keep you safe through those feelings (and maybe exploit that thrill when the mood struck him). When he decided enough time had passed for you to understand what you did wrong, he smoothed one hand up to rest between your shoulder blades and pushed you back down into his chest, making you let out a little “oof!”. He kept the pressure there until he felt you fully relax against him and shift slightly to meld completely into his hold. He turned a kiss to your temple in praise for your acquiescence.
“Just a while more, little lamb,” he murmured. The way that his hands moved over you, exploring and caressing like you were precious and divine, made it easy to relent. The way his core had minutely tensed below you let you know he was dreading your parting, anxious about losing your touch.
You placed an obliging kiss against his chest and he could relax again. “Anything you want, my love.”
He guided your head up so that he could give you a kiss in return. “So good for me,” he praised against your lips.
“I’ll be anything as long as it’s for you,” you promised, staring earnestly into his eyes. You watched as his pupils dilated further, eating away at that piercing yellow.
Mihawk dove forward to give you a quick, but fierce, kiss. After pulling back, he pressed your foreheads together so your noses brushed and your breaths mingled, wishing for it to somehow bind your souls directly together, never to part.
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Buggy
You knew Buggy was going to practically smother you while cuddling tonight from the moment he shot his hand out to you upon your entrance and dragged you to meet him on his throne. As with most nights on the Big Top, there was drinking and merriment so you had to use all your skills to duck and weave through the literal circus and make it to him unruffled. Buggy had started with you sitting sideways across his lap but quickly decided that wasn’t close enough. You were turned so that you could wrap both arms and legs around him, while his arms pulled you firmly into him. You laughed because he continued fussing like that still wasn’t close enough.
You knew just how to placate him long enough to let you eat and drink before he stole you off to bed to be his personal teddy bear. You kissed his jawline with a whispered “you have such a sharp jaw, it’s so sexy” and he stopped his grumbling. You rubbed out the tension in his shoulders and he stopped fidgeting. You nuzzled into the side of his head and his grip became less desperate. You nosed at the sensitive skin behind his ear and he forgot that there was even anything to forget. Only then were you safe to lean back and have your dinner, paying for the distance with kisses to his hand, wrist, and cheek between bites of your meal. 
When you were done, Buggy threw you over his shoulder to carry you to the Captain’s quarters. It was his favorite way to remind everyone (and reassure himself) that you had chosen him and you were his. The moment you were behind a closed door, you took advantage of your position and gave him a firm slap to the ass. Instead of scolding you, he responded with a slightly harder slap to your own ass, getting you to let out a barking laugh. He may have also left his hand there afterwards to, you know, help hold you more stably.
Once in bed, you ended up exactly as expected - absolutely enveloped in Buggy. He had opted to have you lay on your back with him on your chest and his arms back to gripping you tight. His head was buried in the crook of your neck, where he tried to keep his nose in the sheets and off of you. You would shove him right back into the comfier position each time. Even with his face shoved into you, you managed to hear him complain, “You’re supposed to hold me back.” What a needy baby; your arms were already around him and your legs were spread so he could lay in between them. 
You lifted your legs up to hook around his waist, clasped your arms in a ring around his chest, and squeezed with all your might. A sharp “hnnnghk” rushed out of him with all the air in his lungs and you laughed loud and long, losing the strength of your grip under the force of your joy. You’re lucky that’s Buggy’s favorite sound because he was getting ready to bite into your shoulder for freedom and vengeance. When you settled back down, you did what he was actually seeking and pressed him into you with a firm warm hand on the center of his back and the back of his head. Both legs slid down, one to hook your calf around his and the other to press into the length of his. You felt his chest expand as he inhaled as far as his lungs would allow and contract as he exhaled all the tension from his body.
“Rest, love,” you gently encouraged. You placed a kiss on his temple. “I’m not going anywhere, even when you sleep.”
Buggy placed answering kisses to the skin at the base of your neck.
“Thank you, showstopper.”
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Shanks
This night was playing out as many had before; you sat on the floor in front of Shanks between his spread legs, sharing jokes and memories over drinks with the rest of the crew. You had each of your arms hooked behind his calves, hanging loosely from a grip on each knee. You’d indulge Shanks with sporadic kisses to the sensitive skin inside his knee and thigh. He’d repay you by playing with your hair or rubbing at your shoulders, just the way he knows you like. 
You two were sharing a large bottle of dark rum. You’d ask for it by craning your head back with a pout or tugging insistently at his clothes and he’d tease you by placing it to rest on top of your head or establishing eye contact and taking a long drink. For the past few tugs at his empty sleeve to get his attention and hopefully some rum, you only earned him deliberately missing the point to give you a kiss instead. This time he gave you an upside down kiss when you looked back and you whined into his mouth. He didn’t linger long and you tried your hardest to look upset with him. More laughs burst out around you at your poor attempt.
“What is this? You don’t want my kisses anymore,” Shanks questioned dramatically, his hand coming to his chest like he’s wounded. The effect would’ve been stronger if that hand wasn’t still holding the jug of rum. “You curse me; I can never survive without your love.”
“Then you better start paying for it with that booze,” you warned through an insuppressible grin. His chest shook with his laugh and he finally swung the bottle your way.
Over the course of the night, you made your way into his lap, allowing your tipsy self the perfect opportunity to be all over him. The crew was used to it anyway, and the two of you always scampered off before anything exceeded PG-13, so no one gave it a second thought. Currently, you were leaned into his chest with his arm wrapped around your back. Your left arm cradled what was left of the rum in your lap and your right arm was reached out to where you were diligently massaging his left shoulder and upper arm. You had worked him until he was boneless and you were positive he’d be purring if he could. Neither of you registered the jokes about the sickeningly sweet display or how tightly wrapped Shanks was around your finger. Eventually, Shanks gained the strength of will to loll his head forward and rest it against yours.
“Ready to move to bed, darling?” he asked. The gentle way he began rocking you made it difficult to answer.
“Too far,” you mumbled.
“Grab on,” he sighed, scooching you both forward in his seat. The jug was moved to the floor and you spun to face Shanks, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. You let out a happy hum at the close contact. While standing up, he groaned much louder than necessary for a man who could probably lift a ship. His hand happily gripped your ass to support you the whole way to his bed. He tried to lean over it so you could detach yourself safely but you just held him tighter. Never able to tell you no, he crawled into the bed with you instead of pulling you off of himself.
There wasn’t much rearranging once you both made it onto the bed - just enough to haphazardly cover up with a blanket and make sure Shanks wasn’t crushing you to death. You felt your mind begin to float away but you couldn’t end the night without saying, “I love you, my dear captain.”
You just barely caught his eternal response before you fully slipped under.
“I love you too, my north star.”
2K notes · View notes
the-anxious-youth · 7 months
Text
Bubbles
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Pairing: Buggy x gender neutral!Reader
Summary: While he's being held captive by the Straw Hats, Buggy won't shut up, which gives you an idea.
Warnings: none, this is all fluff, some mentions of insecurities from Buggy but nothing too angsty
Word Count: 4.2k
Author's note: This idea came to me while I was daydreaming the other day, and I just had to write it down. This is based off of the live-action Buggy, although I am only on the second episode so it may not be canon-accurate. Also, he has long hair in this cause I said so (begging to see Jeff Ward with long hair next season). Hope y'all enjoy and let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! There will be a part 2, don’t worry <3 (The banners are from cafekitsune)
Edit: part two is up!
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“So now what?”
The collection of Luffy, Zoro, Usopp, Sanji, and yourself stood in a circle, discussing what to do with a certain clown pirate’s head. Usopp is the first to speak up after Luffy asked the question.
“Well, we can’t leave him unsupervised; who knows what he’d get up to.” Everyone turned to look at Buggy’s detached head, which wore a cheeky look, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
“I vote Y/N to take care of it,” Zoro states blankly, crossing his arms as he speaks.
“Hey! I’m still a person, even without the body, so don’t refer to me as it!” The objection comes from the animated head, vexation seeping through his tone. Your mouth momentarily twitches upward at his little outburst, it was almost reminiscent of a kitten hissing after unwanted pets.
“Why do I have to babysit him?” You turn to Zoro, matching his apprehensive stance. He meets your gaze with a cold look. You hadn’t been a part of the straw hat crew for long, and Zoro was taking his sweet time warming up to you.
“Because you’re the newest here, and that’s how hierarchy works.” 
His tone left no room for argument. Your shoulders slump, and you let out an irritated sigh, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance.
“Fine.” Rolling your eyes, you walk over to pick up Buggy, making sure to be gentle. The clown winks at you, a flirty smile on his face. You take him back to your cabin, not wanting to risk accidentally dropping him overboard. Despite only being a head, a smug aura radiates around him, already planning ways to mess with you. 
You reach your cabin and kick the door open with your foot. Being the newest member of the straw hat crew, you were given the smallest room, not that you really minded. You place Buggy down on your bed, moving to sit at the small desk in the corner of the room. 
“So what are we going to do first, darling?” Buggy smirks as he talks, clearly trying to get under your skin. 
“We? There is no we. You’ll sit there quietly while I go over these maps.” You bark, not even bothering to spare him a glance. 
“Aww, but where’s the fun in that?” You can hear the tease in his tone and can tell that he’s grinning without having to look at him.
“You’re not here to have fun. You’re being held captive, remember?” Smoothing your fingers out over the maps, you tilt your head, trying to focus.
“Yes, but who says captivity can’t be enjoyable?” His question shocks you, and you turn to gaze at him with an unamused look. Realizing that he’s completely serious, you let out a scoff.
“You really are crazy, clown.”
He smiles smugly, not bothered by your comment.
“It’s more fun that way.” 
You roll your eyes and turn back to the maps, choosing to pretend he’s not there. ‘He must really like the sound of his own voice’, you think to yourself. The clown continues to talk your ear off, but after a while, you’re able to tune him out. Before long, you’ve analyzed all the maps. Turning back to him with a curious look, you realize he’s gotten to the end of some story you couldn’t care to listen to.
“And that’s why you don’t fall asleep on the beach.” Buggy smiles at you, enjoying your annoyance, watching you tilt your head at him.
“Cat got your tongue?” He purrs. Rolling your eyes, an idea pops into your head. 
“Hey… I think I know how to get you to be quiet.” A sly smirk crawls its way across your face, and the clown’s chipper mood falters.
“Oh yeah? What might that be?” He tries to keep his confident demeanor, but the look on your face scares him.
You nibble on your bottom lip without responding before walking over to him and picking him up. This immediately wipes the smirk off his face, and he looks up at you, suddenly concerned for his safety. 
“Hey now, what are you doing?” He asks nervously, secretly afraid you’ll throw him overboard for talking so much. You place him on top of your desk and move to grab the empty basin in the corner of the room.
“I’m giving you a bath,” you shrug nonchalantly, a cheeky smile on your face. He pales at that and laughs nervously. 
“Wait, what do you mean? Are you going to waterboard me or something?” The look on the clown shows that he thinks it’s a real possibility, which causes you to chuckle.
“No, I’m just going to give you a bath; you smell like you could use one.” He just stares at you silently, quickly dropping his playful persona.
“What, cat got your tongue?” You mock him, and he gulps quietly. The fear in his eyes is quite amusing, you admit to yourself.
“You mean you’re literally going to bathe me?” A confused look crosses him, all the confidence in his voice gone.
“Yes.” You nod. “You look like you haven’t showered in weeks. Besides, now I’ll finally get some peace and quiet.” A smirk crawls across your visage, enjoying seeing the trickster squirm. It wasn’t often the clown had the tables turned on him, and he definitely didn’t expect it coming from you.
“Now, wait a minute, I can be quiet without that.” He looks up at you worriedly, the idea of a bath visibly rattling him.
“But I thought you wanted to have fun?” Your smirk widens and you put a hand on your hip.
“Okay, I take it back. I’ll be good, I swear.” A nervous laugh emerges as he tries to break the tension.
“Too late.” His face drops, triggering a small chuckle from you. 
“Oh, relax, will you? I’m technically doing you a favor.” This time, a genuine smile graces your face, which does nothing to calm his nerves. “Now stay.” You put your hand up as if you were talking to a canine, to which Buggy rolls his eyes, your other hand holding the metal basin.
“I’m not a dog,” he mutters softly, not having the courage to stand up to you entirely.
You leer at him, opening the door to leave before shutting it behind you. Sitting there quietly, Buggy questions how he even got here. Not before long, you return, the bucket full of warm water. You place it on the ground, grab the towel off your shoulder, fold it, and lay it on the bed. 
“You’re serious?” He says quietly, watching you semi-curiously, shocked that you weren’t kidding. You hum softly and nod your head.
“I am.” Looking up at him, you can see the fear on his features, and your eyes soften a bit. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”
He eyes you suspiciously, not sure whether or not to believe your words. Grabbing a small pouch, you pull out a bar of soap and a small bottle, which Buggy assumes is shampoo. Lastly, you grab a small wooden board and place it over the center of the tub.
“So you don’t drown,” you utter, his question practically visible on his face. He nods slowly in response, having a hard time believing the situation.
“I’ll have to take this off,” you gesture to his bandana and he bows his head in agreement, deciding not to fight it as you seem pretty determined. Gently removing the striped cloth, you fold it nicely and place it on the other side of the desk. Secondly, you remove the hair tie that kept his bright blue mane in a ponytail. Buggy watches you silently, interested in your next move. Softly grabbing the sides of his head, you place him on the wooden board that lies across the center of the tub. 
“I’m going to wash your hair first, okay?” 
He nods in response, curious eyes never leaving your face. You grab a small cup and fill it with warm water, asking him to lean his head backward so it doesn’t get in his eyes. The clown does as you say, though instead of closing his eyes, he keeps them glued on you, not trusting that you won’t dunk him in the water. You gently pour the water over his hair, moving your other hand to shield his eyes as he seems to want to keep them open. The usually talkative clown stays silent, not wanting to admit to himself that the warm water feels quite pleasant.
“When was the last time you actually washed your hair?” 
He raises an eyebrow at your question, pondering it momentarily before replying.
“I, uh, I’m not sure.” A nervous chuckle escapes his lips, expecting you to laugh at him. Instead, you smile gently and continue pouring water onto his hair. 
“I can tell.” The words contain no malice as you utter them, merely expressing an observation. Seeing that his hair was now thoroughly damp, you grab the small bottle of shampoo, pouring some out into one hand. Rubbing your hands together to form some bubbles, you move to start massaging the soap onto Buggy’s head.
“Were you born with this?” You ask curiously, referring to the cerulean color of his tresses. He raises his eyebrow at you, not expecting the question.
“I was.” Nodding as he speaks, his eyes continue to analyze your face as if you were a puzzle he was trying to solve. You smile at him, continuing to lather the shampoo into his hair. 
“It’s pretty. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Your words are soft, making sure that his whole scalp is covered in suds. He scoffs at this, thinking that you’re making fun of him. Momentarily pausing your movements, you lower your gaze to meet his eyes, finding insecurity dancing through them.
“I’m being serious. I wish I had brightly colored hair, maybe purple or something. Guess I wasn’t so lucky.” Going back to massaging his scalp, he looks up at you, utterly flabbergasted. 
“You really think so?” He asks softly, timidity laced through his tone. You nod in response, a gentle smile on your face. Humming softly, the clown takes in the new information, wondering what else you think about him. He didn’t want to admit it, but the way your fingers carefully danced across his head felt incredible, not being able to remember the last time someone treated him so gently. 
Reasoning that his hair was thoroughly soapy, you dunk your hands in the warm water to get rid of the remaining suds and quickly dry them with a towel. Subsequently grabbing the cup, you fill it with water and begin to wash the shampoo out of his hair. He stares at you all the while as if he is trying to commit your face to memory. After all the soap is washed out, you squeeze the ends of his hair to rid it of any excess water and grab a towel to wrap around his head. Leaning back to get a good look at him, you smile, finding his curious expression cute.
“Now for the face,” you utter, moving to grab a fresh towel and the bar of soap. 
“Wait a second, you’re going to wash my face too?” asks Buggy, his timbre uneasy. You nod in response, replying in a steady tone.
“You’ve been wearing the makeup for so long that it’s partially gone.” Smiling at him softly, not expecting him to be so nervous. He laughs bitterly, not an ounce of humor in his voice.
“Can… can you just leave it?” His question is soft, and your surprise is visible on your face.
“You do know that leaving makeup on for too long is bad for your skin right?” You quip, trying to lighten his mood. Letting out a shaky breath, he shakes his head softly, and you can tell he doesn’t know what to say. Your smile drops, and you watch him for a moment, figuring out what to do next. His face paint seems to be a sensitive topic, and you don't want to push him too far.
“How about this,” you start, a kind smile returning to your face, “If you let me wash off this old makeup, I’ll redo it for you so it’s nice and fresh.” Sitting across from him calmly, you try to give off a safe and non-threatening aura to make him feel more comfortable around you. He stares at you for a moment, astonished that you would offer such a thing. You stay silent, patiently waiting for a response.
“You’d do that for me?” he asks after a moment, the surprise in his voice evident. You nod, making sure to maintain the soft smile on your face. “You’re in luck because I just got some new face paints.” Leaning over to open the drawer of your desk, you pull out a palette with every color of the rainbow on it and some clean brushes, holding them up so he could see. He tilts his head in response, trying to discern whether or not you were serious. After what feels like forever, he finally returns your smile and nods. 
“Deal. Can you make it match how it normally looks?” He looks up at you with a soft smile, secretly hoping that you’ll do a decent job. 
“Of course.” Grinning, you grab the towel and soap, excited that he’s letting you do this. You wet the soap bar, rubbing it between your hands to generate some bubbles, and gently start the wash the old makeup off his face. The clown continues to stare at you, though his energy is much more relaxed than before. 
“You’re really pretty,” he comments after a moment, causing your hands to falter. Feeling the heat rise to your face, you smile, taking a moment to meet his gaze. 
“You’re pretty too,” you mutter softly. Now that his face is mostly clean, you see a light blush begin to form on his cheeks.
“I’m nowhere near as pretty as you.” The confidence is back in his voice, and he winks at you flirtily. You can help breaking out into a smile, choosing not to say anything in response. He watches you quietly as you wash the soap off of his face. Unbeknownst to you, Buggy never let anyone see him without makeup, but something about you told him that he could trust you. He’d also be lying if he said that he didn’t enjoy the view of your face being so close to his.
“Now for the fun part.” Grabbing the palette with one hand and a brush with another, you grin at him, excited to replicate his face paint. Truth be told, you loved doing makeup, but the only person who would let you do it was Luffy. There was one time Nami let you do hers, but it was after everyone else went to bed and she wiped it off immediately after. Your smile faltered at the thought of the orange-haired girl, and you remembered why Buggy was with your crew in the first place. The clown immediately noticed and looked up at you inquisitively.
“You okay?” He asks softly, already missing your smile. You nod and debate on telling him the truth, ultimately deciding that you should.
“I’m just thinking about Nami.” You force a smile back on your face, but Buggy can tell it’s not real. 
“That’s the girl Arlong took, right? Fiery personality with hair to match?” He asks, and the description of her causes a genuine smile to come across your face. You nod softly.
“That’s the one.” Staring at him with interest, you wonder if he’ll tell you Arling’s location since he clearly knows it.
“We both know I know where they are, and truth be told I had no intention of telling any of you, but something about you is special.” Your eyes widen at his words, was he really going to give it up that easily?
“He’s at Arlong Park, and I’ll bet she’s with him. I’ll take you there, as a thank you for all this.” You beam at him, ecstatic at the thought of saving Nami. It’s at that moment when Buggy decides your smile is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You rush out, your excitement getting the best of you. He chuckles at your enthusiasm and nods, a smile on his face as well.
“Now be quiet so I can do your makeup,” you say cheekily, dipping the brush into the white knowing that it’s the base for his signature look. He laughs in response but has one last thing to say.
“Do you need me to tell you how to do it?” He looks at you as you shake your head, your smile still prevalent.
“I’ve seen so many of your bounty posters, I’ve practically got it memorized.” His eyes widen at this, and his grin gets bigger.
“Oh, do I have myself a secret admirer?” The clown asks smugly, and he notices the blush that falls upon your face. If he knew it was so easy to make you flustered, he would have done it far sooner, finding you absolutely adorable.
“Shut up and let me work.” You bark, your tone not holding any aggression. He laughs again but does as you say, and you begin to paint his face white. For once, he remains silent, watching you work. Before long, the base is done and you move on to the blue triangles above and below his eyes. You stay silent as your brush runs along his face, wanting to make it look perfect until a thought comes into your head.
“You know something?” He hums, prompting you to continue. “You have the most captivating eyes I’ve ever seen.” Said eyes widen, never having been told that before. Buggy silently thanks the universe for the makeup covering his face because he can feel the heavy blush rising to his cheeks. 
“Th-thanks,” he mutters quietly, not sure how to respond. You tilt your head at him, curiously studying his face. 
“You’re not used to receiving compliments, are you?” Smiling at him softly, you watch as he shakes his head, letting out a nervous laugh.
“Usually I’m the one giving the compliments.” He looks up to meet your gaze, partially expecting you to laugh at him. You do nothing of the sort, instead smiling at him gently.
“Well, that’s a shame because I think you’re pretty handsome.” You wink at him, wanting to make him feel more comfortable since flirting seems to be one of his pastimes. His eyes widen again, the surprise written all over his face. Without saying anything else, you finish the blue around his eyes and move on to the red, cleaning the brush and dipping it into the face paint. The clown stays silent as you work on the red smile around his mouth, internally wondering if you meant what you said. When you get to his nose, he tenses up, a clear indicator that he’s insecure about it. You make sure to be extra careful as you paint the red onto his skin. 
“I meant what I said, I do find you quite attractive.” His eyes search yours for any hint of insincerity but find none. The king of flirting himself is stunned into silence, feeling his heart flutter at your words. You say nothing else and go back to finishing the makeup. Deciding to observe your face while he had the opportunity, he notices that you stick your tongue out slightly when concentrated, and he swears he’s never seen anything cuter. 
“All done!” You pull away proudly, assessing your work. It looks almost identical to his bounty picture, and you internally pat yourself on the back for your memory. Getting up to grab a mirror, you find one in the small dresser and bring it towards Buggy, holding it up so he can see his reflection. He looks in the mirror and instantly grins, impressed with your makeup skills.
“You know, you would be a wonderful addition to my crew.” You chuckle in response, not thinking that he’s being serious.
“You need a professional makeup artist?” You joke, internally glad he thinks you did a good job.
“No really, we could use someone like you.” His proposal shocks you, not expecting him to say something like that. 
“You don’t know me,” you speak quietly. He just smiles at you, taking in your beauty. 
“I know enough. You’re kind, funny, and great at makeup.” The clown winks at you, enjoying the surprise on your face. “I’ve also heard you are quite the fighter.” Smirking at you, he gives you a look that tells you he means what he says. You just stare at him in silence, having a hard time believing your ears. 
“So, sweetness, what do you say?” Gaping at him, you blink a few times, processing his offer. After a moment, you sigh, indecision written all over your features.
“I don't know, I’d have to leave the straw hats, and I’m not sure I could do that.” Surprisingly, his face softens at your words.
“Tell you what, let’s head off to save your friend and find my body, and then you can decide.” His smile remains soft, which is unusual for the clown. “I don’t think your current crew appreciates you. I mean, look at today, they gave you the task of babysitting me when you have so much more to offer.” Eyes widening at his words, you realize that maybe he’s right.
“Luffy appreciates me,” you whisper softly, though you’re not sure whether you’re trying to convince him or yourself.
“He might, but grass head certainly doesn’t.” You want to smirk at the nickname for Zoro, but there’s too much going on in your mind for your facial muscles to pull through.
“All I’m going to say is this, you’d have a real place in my crew, and not just on the bottom of the totem pole. Besides, I think you like my company just as much as I like yours.” He gazes at you, studying your body language, and you realize that he’s right, you do enjoy his company. You start nibbling on your lip out of nervous habit, and he picks up on it immediately.
“You don’t have to decide now, we can go rescue your friend first, okay?” He watches your shoulders visibly relax at that, and smiles in return.
“Okay.” You say softly, smiling back at him. “Your hair should be dry now.” Moving closer, you carefully take the towel off his head and giggle at the fluffy blue mess. 
“Thank the stars I have a brush.” Buggy chuckles at the comment and watches you grab the hairbrush with a smile on his face. Softly working through the tangles, you watch as his hair goes from frizzy to smooth. As you’re running the brush through his mane one last time, the door opens, revealing a shocked and somewhat appalled Zoro.
“What the hell is going on in here?!” Yells the swordsman, and you turn to him with a confused look.
“Well, you told me to watch him so I did.” You shrug, not liking the attitude coming from your crewmate.
“I said watch him, not give him a makeover! Did you do his makeup too?” The horrified look on Zoro’s face made Buggy laugh, not used to seeing the man lose his cool.
“You guys never let me do your makeup, so I had to improvise!” You bark back, crossing your arms. Zoro just stares at you silently, clearly having difficulty processing your kindness towards the clown. After a while, he rolls his eyes and scoffs.
“Whatever. Luffy needs him so we can find out where Nami is.” He mirrors your stance, crossing his arms.
“I already know where she is,” you spit, growing tired of the way he speaks to you. The swordsman scoffs, not believing you for a second.
“Oh, really? How?” A faux smile creeps onto his face, prepared to catch you in a lie.
“Because Buggy told me.” Zoro’s face drops and the man is stunned into silence. The clown immediately bursts into laughter, enjoying Zoro’s dumbfounded look. The green-haired man gawks for a moment, before moving his hands around, silently asking the question ‘how’.
“Because they’re nice and you’re an asshole,” Buggy says smugly, and you can tell he’d be crossing his arms if he had the rest of his body. You break out into a soft chuckle at this, which snaps Zoro out of his trance. 
“I’m not explaining this to Luffy, so you better take the head and go find him.” The swordsman scoffs again before leaving the room, shaking his head the whole time. Rolling your eyes, you move back toward the clown, mumbling to yourself while putting his hair back in a ponytail. 
“Don’t let him get to you, he won’t know what he has until it’s gone.” Buggy’s cheeky grin triggers your own, and you laugh softly, gently picking him up to go find Luffy. 
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©️ the-anxious-youth, 2023
Please do not replicate/repost :)
2K notes · View notes
plutoswritingplanet · 8 months
Note
could you do a request of Buggy (opla) falling for Luffy’s older sister? (Adopted or blood relation, doesn’t matter) like he takes her hostage but she doesn’t seem to mind. She know she can escape at any time, but keep annoying buggy to a point where… he doesn’t see her as a hostage anymore, more like treasure? And she starts to maybe feel something for the clown?
You Started It (Buggy The Clown x Reader)
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a/n: how did i know the first request will be about the clown lmao. i took some liberties when writing this but i hope you still like it <3
Warnings: Buggy Being Kind Of An Asshole, Captivity, Some Suggestive Themes
Summary: Poking the bear isn't the wisest things you could be doing in your particular situation.
Part 2.
You've memorized every nook and cranny of your shoes. The time you've spent in containment has really opened your eyes, when it comes to how little you actually knew about the clothes you were wearing. For example, your right shoe was slightly bigger, molded by your foot. You must be putting more weight onto your right leg, when standing. The hem of your shorts is made with a very close cross stitch, making them slightly sturdier and thicker. Right where the material folds, just above your knee, you've managed to pick out a small hole, the strings of abused material hung sadly and tickled your skin.
There wasn't really much to do, while being kept in a cage, in the backstage of a circus which belonged to the infamous Buggy the Clown. Well, except studying the stains on your shoes and waiting for the Captain to visit you, which he did quite frequently.
"Entertainment purposes" is the reason he declared, when you've asked him why on earth is he keeping you locked up in a hanging cage. But you weren't so easily fooled. You knew from the start, that the role he has envisioned for you to play, was that of a Hostage and Bait. So, inevitably, when your younger brother and his merry band of misfits come to save you, he'd be able to even out the score. Which was a shitty plan, in your opinion.
They've kicked his ass before, they can do it once again.
So, that's why you're here, feet dangling above the floor, as you hum to yourself. Anything to pass the time. That is, until you hear the door to the backstage open, and a familiar tone of voice calls out.
"Hostage!"
Really, how did he even expect you to stay in the dark about his plan, while calling you like this? The man was clearly insane.
Buggy the Clown stands before you, makeup disheveled as always, with his Captain's hat abandoned in favor of a striped bandana. He's excited, which is evident, by the way he can't seem to stop moving, jumping from one leg to the other, hands fidgeting at his sides.
"How are you feeling, my dear Hostage?" he asks with fake concern, and just as your mouth opens to answer, he interrupts "Ah, never mind that, I don't care."
You don't even try to hide the annoyed expression on your face.
"You can sing" he states matter-of-factly, pointing a finger right at you.
"Barely."
"Can you dance though?"
"Barely as well."
He hums in thought, pacing the floor in front of your cage. Finally, he stops, looking at you with his head tilted to the side. His eyes rake over your body, and it brings a sudden wave of discomfort to your bones.
"You'll be performing in our next act."
Again, his tone leaves no space for an argument. Still, you were never an agreeable person, smiles were more of your brother's thing. So, you straighten out as much as the cage allows you and cross your arms in front of your chest.
"Do whatever you like, my brother will get me out of here before you can say Welcome to my big show".
"Welcome to my big show" he says immediately, then, raises his finger, as if he's waiting for the entire crew of Strawhats to fall from the sky.
They don't, obviously, and he gives you a pointed look, to which you respond with a roll of your eyes.
"Besides" he turns around and opens one of the chests laid out on the table "Aren't you a bit old to dote on your younger brother so much?"
The question genuinely offends you, and as he pulls out another bandana, this one red, covered entirely with big white polka dots, your eyes glimmer with venom.
"Aren't you a bit old to play dress up?"
He turns in a blink of an eye, and with terror mixed with disgust you watch his hands detach from his body, slamming into the cage. The force of impact sends it flying right into the nearby wall, the back of your head smacks against the metal bars. The swinging of the cage coupled with the stars erupting before your eyelids from the impact make you feel dizzy.
Then, Buggy takes a step towards the cage, connecting his hands with the rest of his body, and your prison stops swinging in an instant.
"I should kill you for that" he says lowly, his blue eyes bearing into your face.
"You started it" you choke out an accusation, trying very hard not to vomit.
He stays completely quiet, just watching you for a long while, his hands slowly loose tension. Then, as if his rage has entirely dissolved, he smiles, teeth completely exposed, as his cheeks crease. God, you'd do such a better job at his make-up, given the chance.
"You're funny, Hostage" he shakes his head, and suddenly, for some unknown reason, it downs upon you, just how close to you, he's standing.
"Sing for me some more" he says.
And then, his hands push back with sufficient force to send your cage flying again. You groan at the movement, another wave of nausea almost making you loose your breakfast. When you finally have the perfect, biting comeback, he's already gone, the door slamming after him. You're alone again.
A sigh escapes your lips, as you press your forehead to the cold metal of the cage. You've already memorized all the details of your own clothes, and the room was too dark to see anything more. So, you start observing the cage. The way the light shifts up and down on the bars, the way the brown paint seems to peel away under your thighs. Then, you look up, towards the place where all the bars have been stuck together.
And then your eyebrows furrow. Because just above the ceiling of the cage, you can see something poking out. Something roughly the size of a fist and colored a pale, fleshy color. You raise yourself slightly in your seat, to get a better look, and immediately regret doing so.
It's an ear. His ear. Detached and placed right on top of the cage. That's how he knows about your singing, the bastard.
An idea brews in your brain, mischief spilling out of your growing smirk. You pull yourself up, until you can reach the top of the cage. Your arm is just slender enough to slip past the bars, and your fingers brush against the cold flesh of the ear. Before Buggy, wherever he is, can react, you snatch the ear from the top of the cage, keeping a tight grip, as it starts to jump in your hand.
Then, you take a deep breath, place the ear close to your lips… And give the most blood-curling, shrill scream you could muster.
Immediately, you hear a string of curses coming your way, and a second later Buggy bursts into the room, a murderous expression on his face. You open your hand, and the ear nearly bursts out of your fingers, flying back to it's owner like some sort of deformed beetle. The sight, for some reason, is so incredibly funny, you can't help but choke out a little giggle. Which soon becomes a quite big giggle, which in turn morphs into a full blown laughter.
You can't see the Captain through the tears of laughter forming in your eyes, so when he knocks on the metal bars of your cage, you nearly choke from surprise. He's looking at you strangely. Not quite as angry as before, but there is something else lurking behind his eyes. As if he's enveloped deeply in his thoughts, but at the same time completely present and focused on you. Your laughter dies down in an instantly, and you reach up to wipe your tears, clearing your throat awkwardly.
"I've captured myself a comedian, huh?" the man leans closer to the bars of the cage, placing his forehead against them and looking at you from below "You trying to take my place as the funniest person in the circus? Hm, Hostage?"
You risk a smirk, leaning down towards him. He watches your movements with a curious expression, eyes darting all over your face.
"Yeah" you whisper "So, you better watch your back."
At that, he smiles one of his brilliantly wide smiles. This one however, seems the most honest out of every one you've seen up to this point. You try not to linger too much at the way his eyes seem to shine in the dimly lit room. Or how the stubble on his face makes his features sharper. Or even on the way his arms flex as he leans against the cage. And definitely, without a shadow of a doubt, you're not focusing on the fact, that he's standing nestled right between your dangling legs.
So, before your brain conjures up any unwanted ideas, you clear your throat again and straighten up. Buggy notices the shift in your posture, but doesn't move, instead it seems as if a lightbulb has literally appeared beside his head. Desperate to change the subject, which hasn't been even brought up yet, you wave your hand in the general direction of his ear.
"Your ability is pretty useful" you try to sound as neutral, as humanly possible.
"Oh?" he tilts his head back and gives you a suspicious look.
"Yeah, that eavesdropping thing was really cool… And slightly disgusting" your nose scrunches "But mostly cool."
He hums low in his throat, his hands slowly letting go of your cage. Still, he remains standing between your legs, your knee brushing against his prominent hip bones.
"Are there" you swallow "Any limits to this ability?"
Now, his eyebrows jump straight under his bandana, and you definitely do not like the slow smirk filling his features.
"I mean, like, can you detach your nose? Or um… I don't know, your fingernails?"
Finally he steps back, stretching his arms to the side, as if he's giving you a show, and in a way, he does. There are muscles, hidden under those circus clothes. His exposed forearms are nicely shaped, with thick veins running the length of them. You really don't mean to ogle the man, but fuck, he is handsome. In an "insane-sadistic-clown-who-is-also-a-pirate-for-some-reason" way.
"I can detach every single part of my body with no effort" he says, his smile growing.
Before you could really think about your actions, your gaze falls downward, right to his belt keeping his trousers up. Mortified, that your brain would even go there, you tear your eyes up, and with a horrified expression, look upon a face full of excitement.
Then, Buggy raises his hands to his heart, feigning a scandalized expression, which would've been funny, if you weren't currently blushing in the lovely shade of a ripe beetroot.
"I'm sorry… that's not… I didn't" your words come out a jumbled mess, and Buggy wheezes out a laugh.
"Oh would you look at that" he puts his hands behind his back, as he slowly starts to stalk towards your confinement "You know, with how sheltered your little brother is, I didn't expect you to be such a dirty pervert."
You choke on air, arms flailing inside the cage, as you genuinely are at a loss for words, You can feel your face grow impossibly hot, the heat spreading all the way to the tops of your ears. The Clown still advances, until his face is pushed right between the bars of the cage, a smile on his lips and a glint in his eye. You don't know what to do with yourself, as the man continues to laugh at your outrage.
Finally, his right hand flies from behind his back and stops right above his head. Then, as if making a show specially for you out of his unusual abilities, he lets his pointer finger remove itself from the hand. Involuntarily, you make a face, and try to push yourself as far into the cage, as humanly possible. Which, given the size of your prison, does practically nothing. The finger aims straight at your nose and presses it with slightly more force, than a friendly "boop" would.
"You started it" he throws your own words back at you, and watches your dumbfounded expression with a smile and a giggle.
Finally, he steps back, all his body parts in place, and you can breathe again at last. Then, with a flourish, he bows down before the cage, before giving you a slightly unbalanced twirl. At that, you can't help but smile, almost fondly. He's not so bad, when he isn't actively trying to murder you and your friends.
"Anyways, get ready, your grand performance is in a week" he concludes, and you sigh deeply.
So he hasn't let this one go.
No matter. A week from now, you'll be out of this place. The thought fills you with joy, and strangely, with some sort of melancholy, which you have to jot down as nausea, just to protect your own mental health.
"Hostage" the man says, as a goodbye, bowing once again, this time with fewer theatrics, and begins to walk back towards the door. "Captain" you respond in kind, inclining your head slightly.
He stops in his tracks, back turned to you, before slowly, twisting his body, to look you in the face. He wants to say something, his mouth opens and closes, and anticipation floods your stomach. But then, his lips pull back into one more smile, more reserved, more private. Now, in this rare moment of tranquility, he looks truly handsome, and your heart jumps to your throat at the realization. He gives you one last look, shakes his head at the floor, and exits with a soft click of the door.
You're, once again, left alone with your mismatched shoes and the hole in your shorts. This time, however, your head is filled with tender thoughts, one that could keep you company, until another visit befalls you.
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lild00td00t · 7 months
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Hi, I hope you are doing well! Can I request headcanons on how Crocodile, Buggy, Mihawk and Doflamingo would propose to their s/o or how they would react if their s/o was the one to propose to them? (Which ever you feel like is fine! :))
Have a great day!
One Piece War Lords: Proposing to their S/O
This was so adorable thank you for requesting the War Lords!! I’ll have to write a part 2. Buggy was honestly my favorite for a bit… 👉🏻👈🏻 but these are gonna be so HELLA friggin cheesy. I’m a hopeless romantic.. so please… COURT ME LIKE WE’RE IN PRIDE AND PREJUDICE.
Buggy
• He’s so nervous, his hands are clammy, even on the inside of his gloves sweat is lining along the fabric of them. He’s talked it over to himself multiple times, rationalizing the best and worst case scenario.
• He can’t help but melt when he sees you with the promise ring he gifted. He sweats bullets when you tease him about getting married… at dinner he nearly choked, and poor Mr.3 nearly had a heart attack just trying to dislodge the food that got caught in his throat. But he felt like that a majority of the times you discussed it. Like something was lodged in his throat and cutting off his air.
• So when you’re watching the crew bring a haul back on the ship, hands on your hips in a relaxed stance, you barely notice when he slips a ring on your finger, and he discreetly prays you don’t say anything about it until you screech and throw your arms around him, his body probably splits in 2 out of shock- this poor man -
• “ How does it feel knowing you’re going to be married to the future pirate king ?! Flashy ?! As it should feel?! “ Then the second you romanticize over the idea he practically hemorrhages 🥲
Mihawk
• The most poetic. God - he probably leaves you little poems every where, and they’re all based on you <3
• Your dates are so adorable. Like picnics, or going on row boats. It’s so quiet on the water, so you don’t notice when he slips down on one knee, clasping your hands in his while presenting a ring.
• You nearly flip the boat when you finally comprehend what’s happening but luckily your better half is much more calm and collected.. he was prepared for this reaction.. atleast he thinks he was -
• He kisses your knuckles, then overlaps your hands with his and holds them to his heart
• “ It seems as though the love saga of my poems will continue until death do us part…“
Crocodile
• Posessive..
• He truly is materialistic and is telling the truth. You genuinely will get what you want. But he can see it in your eyes that you’re not after his money, or his valuables or even his status. He can see the way you adoringly look up to him when he talks. And he’s not used to such an innocent form of love you offer.
• He feels that you must be protected, for what you make him feel is vulnerability. Which scares him. Because no one has ever made him feel that way before. So when the time is right, most likely on a starry night when you’re on a walk he’ll stop, just long enough to kneel and pull out the box, just long enough for you to realize what he’s doing. And with that, he confesses his love
• “ With this ring, you are mine.. whatever you want you can have. You will always be treated with my respect and my love, nothing will ever be enough to satiate how I feel for you. No amount of gold compares to that ring on your finger, for it holds the greatest power in all the world.. my promise to you. “
Doflamingo
• Like crocodile he’s possessive.. but with a sweet?? Spin ?? To it ???
• The moment he slips the ring on your finger he brings your hand to his lips for a sweet kiss, giving you that bone chilling smile while keeping his lips pressed to your skin.
• He doesn’t make a big, fancy show out of it. Because he knows that you don’t need everyone to know. It’s obvious that you’re his
• You listen when he talks. You’re never put off by his nightmares or bad moods. You urge him to talk about his brother and family. You talk about starting a new one… as a second chance.
• “ A second chance for the Heavenly Demon.. “ he thinks to himself, lost in thought. You weren’t scared to say that he was flawed, but it didn’t matter, because you could work on it together
• “ As long as you are mine, you will be taken care of and no one, I mean no one, will ever mistreat you ever again, lest they want my wrath… “ And he means it. He means every word of it. He would wage wars in your name, bring cities to the ground, and split the ocean in two if he could, unlike crocodile, who is alittle more materialistic with his promises. <3
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fanaticsnail · 2 months
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An Affectionate Embrace
Masterlist Here
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Characters: Buggy, Mihawk, Crocodile, Shanks, Beckman (Art found on Pinterest)
Word Count: 650-900 per gentleman. 
Synopsis: It was a simple reaction, an impulse you felt organic and out of your control. Their cheek was right there, and the swell in your chest and spike of adrenaline prompted you to lunge forward and capture their cheek beneath your lips. How do they react to such a soft touch? Do they shy away, or do they respond in kind?
Notes: Since completing the "Kiss Their Cheek" for both the monster and supernova trios, I had to get a little kiss on the sea-dilfs. Considering they’re a little older and more experienced (and less easy to fluster), there’s a little more depth to their reactions. 
Themes: cheek kisses, feelings, unrequited love, confessions of love, no prior romantic relationship, gn!reader, pure fluff, lil bit angsty, small bit of fear, bittersweet emotions. 
Tag List: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @cinnbar-bun @carrotsunshine
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Buggy
“Captain, you’re back!” you cried with glee, eagerly rising to your feet alongside the devoted crew. Each member rushed over to greet him, cheers and enthusiastic cries of joy sprang forth from the lips and throats of your comrades in arms. 
Buggy D Clown had been away for a while, wandering throughout the seas and attempting to get back to his loyal and faithful crew. You had been searching for him for weeks, and finally at the umpteenth hour, his heavy boots found the deck of the Big Top once again. 
As the first member of the crew to reach him, you flung yourself into his arms and littered his face in a flurry of rapid kisses. You adored your captain. All of the crew did. Considering the massive swell and release of emotions, you could barely contain your incessant need to wrap yourself around him and continue laying into him with peppered pecks atop his cheeks, chin, forehead and stubbled jaw. 
The rest of the crew joined you in your embrace, each member attempting to get as close as they could to kiss, claw, bow and nuzzle against the captain. Giggling along with them in cheer, you felt Buggy’s expression change from joy and pride into a deep and heavy frown.
“Alright, that’s enough,” Buggy’s low tone attempted to break the crew away from their embrace. None could hear his direction over their own desire to worship their captain with their lips, arms and knees. Kneeling before him and reaching up their grabby hands, uttering “we missed you,” and “we love you, captain,” repetitively, Buggy’s body began to vibrate as his rage ignited. 
“That’s enough,” he tried again, the crew not responding to his commands and continuing to mumble, babble and cry for him. You hastily withdrew yourself from his arms, adjusting your clothes and turning to your crew.
“Oi, you lot! Captain said it’s enough!” you called, booming your voice to halt the crew of their incessant repetition. “Hoist the colors, unsheath the sails, weigh anchor: prepare to make waves!” 
“Aye,” the crew responded, hastily snapping out of their prior hypnosis and scrambling to follow your commands. Although you were not the first-mate, you were excellent at barking orders to the unruly crew. Turning to glance at the blushed, painted face of your captain, you smiled up and him and clapped a supportive hand over his shoulder. 
“It’s good to have you back, sir,” you confessed briefly, turning away to begin your duties to set sail, “Do we have a heading, Sir- Mmfmph!” Buggy’s index finger and thumb collected your chin, hoisting you closer to him as he drew his face closer to meet with yours. 
Closing the gap, your captain’s lips collided with your own, his red paint smeared over your lips and cheeks as he pressed a heavy and intentional kisses against your mouth. His hand withdrew from your chin, raking his gloved hand through your hair to draw you into himself. 
“S-Sorry, Doll,” he stuttered upon his withdrawal, “It’s been a little while, and I missed you too.” Your eyes held a momentary confusion, your head shaking with a broad rise in your smile.
“You gonna kiss all the crew, Captain?” you laughed joyfully and in good humor, “Am I the lucky number one to receive a kiss from you? You want me to line them up for you, Sir?” 
Where you expected to find a loud outrageous cackle at your joke, akin to one that you were always greeted with when you verbally played with your captain, what you found in it’s wake was something different. Buggy’s hands sought out your hips, drawing you closer and pressing his forehead against your shoulder. 
“No,” he whispered in a voice so silent you could barely hear it, “Just you.” Reactionary, you wrapped your arms around his neck and soothed over his hair and shoulders with several soothing touches. You felt his anxiety release and his tension depart from him with a shaken movement on his shoulders. The longer he remained nuzzled against you, the more he realized he never wanted to be apart from you again. 
Mihawk
The cool steel of metal clashed together, a cross-shaped window crafted between your blades as you bore your eyes into his honey-hue. Mihawk had been training you in the art of the sword, desperate for you to be a well-rounded fighter. You were no swordsperson, only minimal prior skill with a blade meant for single combat. 
But Mihawk, the owner of castle Kuraigana and your superior, was a determined teacher.
“This maneuver is called ‘the talking window’,” he informed you, clicking the blade against the sharpened edge of your sword. You nodded as he continued to educate you, “This is where many a swordsman may converse, or threaten their opponent with verbal intimidation.” 
Humming in response, he tested the grip on your steel with a firm shove: breaking you from contact against his blade. He lunged forward with his training sword, thrusting it out and prompting you to parry the blow. 
“Try again, and see if you can disarm me with a threat while in there,” his authoritative tone almost caught you off guard. “Think on your feet. I’ll grant you a single moment there to test your words. Your job is to have me stumble enough verbally to lose my momentum in combat.” 
Picking up your stance, you tapped your sword against his while you allowed your mind to produce witty and original retort. Kicking up your feet and swirling in place, your blade's edge was once again drawn against Mihawk’s as he awaited your verbal disarm. 
But there was something about the way he was looking at you. His eyes held encouragement with his usual abrasiveness, a combination you were yet to find in its equal. The hue of amber decorated his honey-irises with the soft swell of the uncharted and unfamiliar. Disarmed yourself by the emergence of new emotions, your body moved against your will and pressed through the window of crossed-blades.
You sprung forward, your lips immediately finding purchase against his whiskered cheek. This small act of pure instinct stunned Mihawk in his stance, his fingers loosening around the hilt of his blade and softening against your sword. 
Considering the hastiness of your own actions, you withdrew as quickly as your lips found his cheek. Your own cheeks flooded with warmth, your lips tingling with the lingering glow of the kiss, as you slunk back in your stance. After a few rapid blinks, Mihawk thrust his blade against your own, easily circling his wrist to rid your grasp over the hilt of your sword and dropping it to the ground.
“I-I’m sorry, I just-,” you began, halted by Mihawk casting his own blade down beside yours and lunging forward. He closed the distance, his hands grasping at your hips and drawing your body flush against his own. Pelvises touching, lips within distance, he circled his chin as a snake would mesmerize their unwitting and unsuspecting prey. 
“-If you’re going to disarm me with something as bold as a kiss,” Mihawk purred down at you, his gaze holding you hostage under its sultry hypnotism, “Then at least do it properly, for both our sakes.” 
“For both our-?” your words halted in your throat as your lips became eclipsed under the soft touch of Dracule Mihawk’s lips against your own. Your eyes widened, his lips opening and molding against yours to find a kiss as deep enough - as passionate enough - to grant you the insight to all of his pent up emotions. 
Brows furrowed and hands roaming, he cradled your form against himself, succumbing to the feeling of bliss against your lips as each moment flooded into the next. Finally allowing himself the luxury of opening himself up to this genre of touch, he would never let you go. You were his, and he was yours. 
Crocodile
“I have set out three towels, lotions and soaps, alongside an assortment of your usual clothes should you desire them over your current ensemble,” you nodded, gesturing to the broad chest, arms and legs of the once respectable Sir Crocodile. 
His hair was greasy, his eyes were sunken, and his shoulders carried a foreign weight you had not expected to find anchoring your former boss to the floor. As Sir Crocodile’s personal assistant, you were privy to witnessing every state he found himself in. All aside from this one. 
He was defeated. His spirit was broken alongside the reflective gold of his left hook. The object was littered in scratches and scuff marks, his body fairing not so different under the longevity he served in Impel Down. His eyes followed your gesture, glaring at the assortment of clothes atop the vanity cabinet before floating his eyes up to meet with his reflection within the broad mirror. 
Although he was yet to utter a single word to you, his silence depicted the raw emotions swelling within the heart, spirit and soul of Sir Crocodile. 
He was not who he once was. 
A man broken, clawing and desperate to be freed from the confines of a torturous prison - to battle and grind through the smog of battle to once again be shepherded into your awaiting embrace. His employee, his confidant, his friend - his love. A love he was yet to express due to the nature of your occupation.
He focussed on his sinking eyes, not recognising the figure glancing back at him. His body was marked with the white and black stripes of imprisonment, his mind laying heavily on the way his body was weakened under the sea stone walls, floors and shackles. He couldn’t find his former self amongst the remains of the man he saw in the silvery reflection. Each crease of his crows feet, each silvered hair on his head, each purple circle beneath his eye was a stranger glaring back at him.
“If I may, Sir,” you began, stepping forward and hovering your hands over his shoulders in the reflection. Deciding against your better judgment, you placed your hands firmly upon his shoulders, soothing over the flesh with your thumbs. You felt him sigh into your touch, but not conform, nor fully embrace, your affectionate touch.
“You are strong,” you uttered into his ear, watching his eyes for any indication of discomfort or apprehension. Finding none in its wake, you continued uttering assurances while you caressed his flesh. He sighed into your touch, leaning into each ministration your hands provided him above his prison uniform. 
“You have carved your destiny out by tooth and nail, Sir,” you assured him, paying attention to the scruff of his neck: circling your hands to relieve the stress and tension from his rapidly troubled mind, “You are the man you have always been, Sir Crocodile.”
“And who am I, Rouhi?” he whispered through his exhale, lulling his head back to lean into your palms. His eyes were shut, his forehead plagued by the trials he endured at the violent hands of the marines.
You couldn’t help yourself, your heartstrings tugging and pulling you down to press your lips against his cheek. The silvery scar cutting his eyes away from his nose,jaw and lips feeling rough beneath your lips. You allowed yourself a moment to hold him beneath your lips, feeling the tension rapidly leave him the longer you pressed this affectionate expression against his skin.
“You are Sir Crocodile,” you whispered after tearing your lips away from his cheek, “You are an influential threat that can have the world fall to their knees under your power.” Glancing into his eyes, you saw the world within their purple hue. His eyes swelled beneath their heavy torment, searching your own for more than your words had spoken.
“Is that all I am?” he whispered, his heart weighing heavy in his chest as he looked up at you, “Am I nothing more?” 
“You are everything to me, Sir,” you confessed, your heart feeling lighter while the adrenaline pumped to flush your cheeks with a darkening heat, “You can take from that confession what you truly desire to make from it. For now: your clothes have been pressed, your towels have been fluffed, and your home has been made ready to receive you-.”
Lips found yours, his affectionate and apprehensive touch hungrily calling for you with each passing moment. He held his lips against you as if it was the only tether holding his form to this earth, his anchor within the harbor of an unknown land of unrestrained affection. Right hand lacing into your hair, his whimpered groan departed his lips and cried lowly into your own. 
He was anew. The broken man he once was no longer found purchase within his chest. Whichever destiny he carved for himself, he would have you by his side to hold him accountable and support him in claiming his fate.
Shanks
The air was light, the jovial melodies thrust into the air at the hands of skilled minstrels. You had been dancing all night with your crew, the momentum finally catching up with you as you all found your seats for a momentary reprieve. 
A laugh fled your throat as you twirled your body once more as the music decrecendoed. Applauding the talent produced at the hands and lips of the musicians, you turned to face your crew: their bodies claiming each of the empty surfaces deemed appropriate for the body to recline against. No stool, chair, sofa nor benchtop remained unoccupied as the crew found their reprieve from lengthy dancing. 
“Why don’t you sit on my lap, love?” your captain chuckled at you, prompting a rise in laughter among the remainder of the crew, including yourself. “I’m far more comfortable than the chairs around here, anyway.”
“How considerate of you, Captain,” you feigned your appreciation, holding your hand to your heart and drawing out each intentional step towards his lap, “Will you wrap your arms-... -pardon, sir. Arm around me as I take my rightful place atop your mighty throne?”
Always playful and light were the interactions you had with your captain. No matter the years that passed in your longevity in servitude aboard the Red-Force, the playful rapport between Shanks and yourself was something ever present. 
“I will put my arm wherever you like, love,” he chuckled, his hazelnut eyes beckoning you in as you drew yourself ever closer, “I’ll keep you safe, so long as you feed me my ale and tell me I’m pretty.”
“So pretty, sir,” you laughed down at him, sinking atop his knee while caressing your hand over his cheek, “The prettiest man that ever did live.” As you cooed into his face, you leant down and pressed a lengthy and extravagant kiss atop his cheek, feigning enthusiasm with a vocal moan while smiling. 
The crew burst into a large, communal laugh that resonated within the chest of your captain. The teetered chuckles died down as the men found their drinks, your hand clasping around the hilt of Shanks’ ale and elevating it to his lips. 
His eyes never left you for a single moment.
Feeling small beneath his gaze, you placed his tankard down against the table and turned to face him with your brows knit into a gruff frown.
“What, Captain?” you asked him, the anxiety elevating in your chest for each moment that continued to pass between you.
“You missed, love,” he chuckled darkly. You were puzzled, searching for a moment in your servitude that you ever missed a single target - falling short in your memories. Before you had an opportunity to ask him a follow up question, you were silenced by Shanks’ right index finger raking along your jaw and collecting your chin within the hooked digit. 
“If you’re going to kiss me,” his smirk carried his dangerously playful tone, “Make sure you hit the right target.” He allowed himself to dwell in that moment of teasing, feeling you slink back atop his lap while his eyes held nothing but unbridled affirmation within their hue.
“Now give us a proper kiss, love,” he uttered before dragging your head towards him, his lips meeting your own. The room uproared into a momentary chaos: cheers, hollers and whistles rose amongst the crew the longer you held your lips against Shanks’. He chuckled against your lips, turning his head and humming against your opening mouth.
“There ‘ya go,” Shanks laughed after pulling away, “Lead with that next time, love. Makes it all less confusing for the lot of us.” 
But you were left more confused than the moment you kissed his cheek. Did he like you? Did he want more? Did you want more? You would need to discuss this when the both of you find yourselves in an air of sobriety, that was for certain. 
Beckman
The storm scattered your face with a flurry of ice-splinters of frozen rain.The Red-Force was stampeding throughout the waves to find refuge in the eye of the storm, your task was to release the sails to have the natural wind pull you toward the calming center of the flurry. 
On the last knot set to release the canvas, the sail snagged on the rope against the top-mast: prompting you to sprint towards the ropes to clamber up amongst the havoc. Your feet caught in the ropes, your heart springing to your throat as you readjusted yourself and stabilized your body within your climb. 
“Careful up there!” the barked call of the first mate of the Red-Haired crew called to you over the wild and unruly wind. You could barely make out his words, let alone formulate an answer over the swell of rainfall. 
Anchoring yourself amongst the ropes, you began desperately tugging at the knot to loosen. Your eyes became misted by the rapid downpour of water, your hands and fingers desperately clawing at the joint fibers of the rope to loosen. As you finally released the last loop of rope amongst the canvas, your feet slipped and your fingers barely brushed with the ropes to hold yourself steady before you began to fall. 
The air was cool, the clouds above shepherded you into the lull of calm before you deduced your body would meet firmly against the deck and break your neck on impact. There was no way you would survive such a drop: no Devil-Fruit abilities to caress your fall, nor Haki present to catch you on impact. 
Little did you know, the moment Benn Beckman barked his orders: he ensured his body was intentionally beneath yours to collect you in his arms should you fall. Although first mate to captain Shanks of the Red-Hair pirates, you were special to him. He needed to ensure your safety, regardless of his own orders to remain at his post. 
As you fell through the air and readied your soul to flee from your body to welcome death with a warm embrace, the only embrace you felt was a warm chest, two steady and firm arms, and an angry reprimand falling from the lips of the gray-haired first mate.
“I told you to be careful!” he barked at you, his eyes wild and frantic as his brow deepened in a low frown. Your breath hitched in your throat, watching as his passionate scolding ignited behind his eyes. “You need to be careful, to be wise. I don’t care what Shanks told you to do, nor how stupid a command it is. You need to be more careful. Hitch a rope around your belt or somethin’, or between each loop to stop you from falling. I can’t lose you to something so stupid as a storm.” 
You could barely comprehend his words, each syllable sounding heavenly against your ears as you appreciated each breath you were granted. You expected to die there, to fall from the ropes and have your neck snap upon impact against the deck - littering your skin with splinters from the wood and choirs serenading you into the life thereafter. In its stead, you were met with a grumpy bark and a cool reprimand that had your heart swelling and eyes misting with the rise of emotions.
Without thinking, you lunged forwards in his arms, your lips making contact against his stubbled cheek. You whimpered against his flesh, arms hooking over his neck and brows upturning in appreciation for his care for you. Your emotions spilled over: thanking whichever deity that was watching over you for the opportunity to live to not only serve this crew, but to feel the touch of Benn Beckman beneath your lips while your body remained chaperoned and cradled within his broad arms. 
At a small sob escaping from your lips, Beckman’s heart softened. He cradled you against himself further, huffing out a small laugh and allowing you to remain in his arms a moment longer. He had desired this touch from you for some time, but refused to act on it due to your proximity and place amongst the crew should the relationship sour. 
“A-Alright, Darlin’. Easy now,” he chuckled, feeling the small quake in your shoulders at the adjustment of your near demise, “Don’t let me get a big head.” 
“You just saved my life, Benn Beckman,” you reiterated, tearing yourself away from him to stare up into his silvery eyes, “A kiss on the cheek is hardly a just reward for such a feat.” Holding his eyes against yours, the rain began to settle as the clouds departed in the eye of the storm. The sun's rays flittered down and cascaded over your bodies, the storm finally finding solace and breaking its tyrannical attack against the Red-Force.
After the storm settled, the soothing swell of waves held you in a momentary calm as your head reclined against Benn Beckman’s broad shoulder. Sitting on the damp deck, with a plush blanket wrapped around your shoulders, Beckman’s lips found your forehead as your eyes grew heavy with want and soothed within the proximity against your valiant savior.  
You could not stop staring at him: this burly man with the grumpy twinkle in his eye. You would offer him the world should he ask it of you, grant him every desire his heart would swell for. You had no idea that the desire itself was you until he made that fact abundantly clear upon your wake in the morning. 
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dexlexia · 5 months
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how to deal with 3 warlords (while pregnant) - cross guild x reader
pairing: dracule mihawk x buggy the clown x reader x crocdile rating: 18+ summary: Three warlords, three of the most vicious men in all of the world. And somehow, someway they are at your beck and call. What started out as an arrangement with Sir Crocodile turned into a liaison with Mihawk and somewhere along the way you ended up in bed with the clown. tags: long fic (over 5k), polyam!cross guild, smut, pwp, table sex, couch sex, lingerie, slight possessive behaviour, good ol' time, fingering, outdoor sex, clothed sex, cowgirl position.
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Three warlords, three of the most vicious men in all of the world. And somehow,someway they are at your beck and call. What started out as an arrangement with Sir Crocodile turned into a liaison with Mihawk and somewhere along the way you ended up in bed with the clown. 
Now you were living quite well in a large manor on some island in the southeast. You spent most of your days reading, you had even taken up a little gardening. Anything you wanted the Cross Guild got for you. Not many people were living like you on the Grand Line. 
Then it happened. You ended up pregnant by one of the idiots. One of the three men was the father of your child. You expected to be on the next boat off the island, but none of the men were willing to send you off. They wanted to make sure their little lady was taken care of. While they bicker over who the father was, they each made sure you were taken care of. 
  ”Can't you hurt now.“ Crocodile told you as he brushed his fingers through your hair, ”If it isn't my brat this time, it will be next time.“ And he almost smiled around the cigar in his mouth.
So that was how you became the lovely wife to three of the most dangerous men on the high seas. And sometimes you wished their boat would sink. 
At six months pregnant it wasn't easy to get around, you spent most days rubbing the sore spot in your back and hobbling around the manor. Most of the time the men kept to themselves and allowed you freedom to roam around the place. 
There was something about the manor you quite enjoyed, even if the men barely got along they still cared deeply for you. You had the pleasure of being called more beautiful than any treasure. But it was Buggy who told you that and then he promptly passed out from too much liquor. So the compliment only went so far. 
It was a home, even with three fearsome men, you still were happy. You thought of it as a way to keep the men in check. You were like the glue that held them together or prevented them from killing one another. It wasn't easy work but it was your work. 
-
You rubbed your achy lower back and huffed, ”You better come out easy, or we're going to have a problem.“ You then poked your swollen middle. Your current wardrobe was clothing that belonged to the men. You hadn't had much time to find cuter clothes so you often were dressed like a mob boss or a gothic swordsman or a fucking clown. But none of them men minded, to be fair they'd preferred if you were naked. You however refused to give them the satisfaction.
You weren't a toy to be ogled at, and if any of them treated you like an object they'd be out on the yard before they could finish their sentence. You refused to raise a child to believe that a woman would be under a man. Even if their father was a warlord you'd teach them compassion and kindness in an unforgiving world. 
It was the least you could do. So even with the aches and pains you were happy to carry such a precious gift. You gave your belly and soft pat, ”I'm not mad at you“ You said, ”I just want everything to go smoothly, I'm excited to meet you. And the boys will love you too. They might be a bit much but you'll always have a home.“ 
  ”Talking to the baby again, I see.“ You heard.
  ”Crocodile.“ You responded as you looked up from your swollen middle. Hand on your lower back once more, ”I thought you were busy, Mihawk told me that.“  
You'd say out of the three of them, Crocodile was the most ”attentive“, there was a charm to him that you couldn't deny. You understood why he was able to charm his way through Alabasta. But anything you needed he got for you without question. He often enjoyed your pregnant state, the idea that he bred you so well left him excited. Such a good girl carrying his spawn, and if it happened that the baby belonged to the swordsman or the clown, he'd make sure that next time he finished the job. 
  ”I'm never too busy for you. Where are you going anyway?“ He asked,“If you need something, I will get it fo you.” He approached you and leaned down to caress your bump, “You will need for nothing. You should be resting.“
  ”I have to move sometimes, Crocodile. Even with the pains in my lower back.“ You huffed as you rubbed the sore spot, ”Can't be bed bound forever.“ 
He chuckled and kissed the top of your head, ”If you wanted a back rub you should've come to my office. Mihawk is too rough with you and the clown is an idiot. So why don't we get what you need and head to the bedroom.“ He leaned further down and kissed you on the lips.
You cupped his face and looked at him, ”If you can get me the ice pop from the freezer in the kitchen I'll happily accept your offer.“ And gave him the biggest puppy dog eyes you could muster. 
He chuckled, ”You always know how to get your way.“ Then took you by the hand, ”Why don't get go before the clown takes all of them.“ Then he started to slowly walk to the kitchen on the lower level.
The warlord had a soft spot for you, he was enamoured by you. You were so small compared to him yet you held your own. The kind of woman who would bear his young. 
Soon you were seated at the massive dinner table happily enjoying the blue ice pop that was in the freezer with your back turned to Crocodile. His hand was on your back slowly massaging the aches and pains on your lower back. You could tell he was getting aroused by the closeness to you. You smiled to yourself as he rubbed at your back. 
  ”How's the child doing?” He asked as the hooked hand reached around you and carefully rubbed your bump, “Is he behaving?”
You chuckled, “We don't know the gender of the baby.” And took another bite of the cold treat, “You better not be disappointed if they're a girl."
He chuckled and pressed at a sore spot on your back, ”I could never, not with you.“ Then pulled away, "You're still a marvellous sight, even this far in. You're a beauty to behold, little one.“ Then leaned in to get a good feeling on the tenseness of your lower back, ”You're a good girl, right?“
You turned your head to look at him, ”You're not just being nice for sex are you?“ You reached over and stroked his face, ”Right?“
He moved back a little, “No, of course, I'd only have sex with you, with you permission.” He swallowed. Only the warlord would get nervous around you.
You chuckled and patted him on the cheek, “Why don't you finish this up for me.” You placed the ice pop in his mouth and moved off the chair. You hiked up the shirt that looked like a dress as you hoisted yourself onto the lavish dining table with a huff. It's hard to be sexy when you're so pregnant. 
  “Oh?” He said, “And here I thought you wanted a massage. But if there's something you desire, I'm happy to provide.” He smirked at you as he got up from the other chair.  He stood in front of you and admired you, such a beautiful woman in his eyes. 
Crocodile was such a fearsome man but here he was in front of you, with a glint in his eye as he watched you unbutton the shirt you wore and soon revealed your almost naked form. He had noticed that your breasts had gotten a bit bigger during the time you were pregnant so far, and that only made the man smirk. 
  “Let's get you out of those." He remarked as he helped you out of your underwear, you held onto his broad shoulders as he slipped them off of you. He placed your bum back down on the table and carefully spread your legs. His hook grazed at the soft flesh of your inner thigh and he carefully licked his hip lip.
  ”Don't stare at me like I'm meat, Crocodile.“ You remarked as you held onto the front of his shirt, all three of the men admired you but you had to warn them sometimes not to view you like a slab of meat for sale. They were yours as much as you were theirs, there would be a level of respect you demanded. 
You didn't think it was too much to ask considering you were carrying one of their children, you weren't a broodmare goddamnit! 
He reached over and patted you on the head, his face got closer to yours as he smiled at you, ”Don't you worry, baby. I would never. You're less like meat and more like the finest gold in all of the blue.“ His broad hand reached to your cheek and rubbed it, ”The others should be lucky I even let you in the same room as them.“ Then kissed you on the forehead. He carefully held your legs open for him, he exhaled deeply as he admired your sweet sex, ”Now let's get the show on the road before the others find us.“ Then with a little help from you, he slid his cock into you. 
Taking him was like a punch in the gut sometimes, even when he was being slow. He was just so BIG. It was hard to take him all at once. But he took his time, he didn't want to leave you too sore. His hand was on your waist as he started to thrust into you. The hook on his other hand held onto the side of the table for support. He leaned down and kissed at your neck, ”That's it.“ He said almost breathless against your neck, ”There we go. Such a good girl.“ 
The table made small noises as it was pushed ever so slightly across the carpeted floor. But you didn't pay much mind to it, you were too concerned with the feeling of euphoria that came over you. It was a great feeling, even with the minor stretch you were in good hands with the warlord. 
  ”Crocodile.“ You said softly, ”Fuck.“ 
He chuckled, his warm skin was pressed up against you, ”I know, you like when we have sex. I wouldn't have it with anyone else, those other idiots should be lucky that they get to have a taste of you.“ His voice was low, there was a possessive edge to it that sent a shiver up your spine. While the agreement worked you knew that Crocodile would rather have you all to yourself.
The sex was quiet and secretive. Hot breathing and soft moans filled the air of the lavish dining room. Crocodile's larger body stayed around you as he thrusted up into you. But even the warlord couldn't keep his composure for long.
  ”I want you to finish at the same time as me, baby.“ He said hotly into your ear, ”I want to feel you get very tight around me when you finish. Can you do that for me?“ His breathing was rapid and his shirt was sticking to his muscular back as he thrusted up into you. 
You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment as you felt the wave of pleasure over your body, ”I can do that.“ You panted. Your body jolted with the thrusts, your pregnant belly and heavy breasts moved with each thrust of his hips. 
He pulled you into a deep kiss, he even explored your mouth with his tongue while the intense feeling of climax took hold. It wasn't long before you were clinging onto him for dear life, you belly pressed against him. Then with one last thrust of his cock, you moaned into his mouth and climaxed at the same time as him. You let out a sharp squeak before a primal groan as you felt the wash of pleasure through your system. It made you go lightheaded. 
Soon Crocodile pulled away and patted you on the cheek. He looked over at the half melted popsicle beside you. Between his breaths he said, “Let me get you another one.” then leaned in for one last kiss. The thrill of pleasure still coursed through his body. He cleared his throat and asked, “Blue, right?”
You giggled, your head still a haze and replied, “Or we could go again?” And spread your legs a little further. And what kind of husband would Crocodile be if he didn't give in to his wife's request?
-
It had been about a week since your encounter with Crocodile. And while you were achy for days later, it wouldn't be the last time you'd have sex. Mihawk had just come back from a trip abroad and while he brought nothing for the other men, he was more than happy to show you what he got you. 
You were now almost seven months and the baby in you was feeling a lot more active, which made you out of breath a lot of the time. But you were determined to see what the swordsman got you. One of the gifts was a lovely dress made for someone as far along as you and while it was a little tight around the belly, you were happy Mihawk even thought of you. 
But there was still more he wanted to show you. The other men were out of the manor, so you went looking for Mihawk. You were occupied all morning with prepping for dinner, between the three warlords not a single one of them knew how to properly cook. They were as clueless in the kitchen as they were competent in combat. So it was just easier for you to cook, there was less of a chance that a fire would break out. 
 “Mihawk!” You called out as you climbed the long staircase upstairs. You peeked into the rooms until you found the man in his study. You let yourself in.
  “You know you can't just- oh, I didn't hear you, my love.” He got up from his chair at the desk, “You shouldn't be putting so much strain on yourself. Come.” He guided you to the old style leather couch at the other end of the room, “You should be resting.” 
  “Well I heard that someone bought me presents while away, and I want my presents.” You smiled at him as you tried to get comfortable on the chair, “Can you blame me?”
 “I'm sorry, I should've found you sooner.” he replied, “Let me get them for you.“ He quickly left the room only to swiftly return with delicately wrapped gifts in hand. He put them on the table in front of you then sat beside you. He watched you with careful eyes as you grabbed the first one. His lips were close to your ear as he said, “Open it.”
It was a floral patterned wrapping paper and underneath was a black box with a white ribbon tied around it, there was a note attached to it that read, ”Forever yours, Mihawk.“ You turned to look at him and he softly kissed you. You then went back to opening the box. It wasn't long until you discovered the contents of the gift. Inside in a bed of tissue paper was burgundy lingerie. 
You turned to look at Mihawk who had his eyes on you. You said to him, ”You shouldn't have.“
He tilted his head to the side, ”What I paid for is nothing compared to how much you're worth. It should fit you.“ His hand played with your hair gently, ”Will you try it on for me?“ And smiled when you slowly stood up, he even carefully supported you while you moved. 
You responded, “Of course.”  With gentle hands you pulled the bra and matching panties out. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw how little fabric there was. You guessed he was right, it would fit if there was nothing to put on. You felt his eyes on you as he got up and started to undress you.
His hands found your swollen middle and he sighed contently, “You've been taking care of him while I've been gone. Good girl.” 
You turned around to him and started to take the dress off, “You men are so possessive. I'm your wife, not a broodmare.” You reminded him.
He leaned in for a kiss and before he did it, he replied, “Of course, I could never remember you as anything but my wife. I am just glad that the others weren't too rough with you. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you.” 
  “Nothing will ever happen to me, I have the best protection on the planet.” You said as you stepped out of your dress. Soon your undergarments came off and he slowly put the pieces on you. 
You noticed right away that in the crotch area, there was an opening. You looked at him with a bit and shock and he got even closer to you. His bare chest was pushed against you and his hand dipped down between your legs. 
  “It's your gift. But under my conditions.” He remarked before he pushed two fingers inside of you. His skillful digits massaged the inside of your pussy and felt just right that you went on your tippy toes and clutched onto him. 
Your nipples grew hard from the sensation and them being practically exposed. Your cheeks grew warm and he went in for another kiss. You held onto him tightly as the pleasure raced through you. This felt amazing. 
Mihawk's favourite position was when he had you so close to his bigger form and fingered you. He prioritised your pleasure first, he wanted to see every expression you made when he pleasured you. He wanted to see and hear how good it was for you. And he was one to never disappoint. Those sharp gold eyes trained on you as he brought you into his lap with your legs open and facing the door. He kissed your neck while you panted and moaned. 
His other hand wandered your bump, “I want it to be mine, I want you to bear me a child who'll truly be the greatest. I have high hopes that it'll be mine.” Then left a deep bruise on your neck.
Your moans often got stuck in your throat from the immense pleasure that Mihawk was giving you. You hooked your hands under your knees to give him a better angle, with your back pressed against his chest.
The thrusts of his fingers were powerful and left your head spinning. This was euphoric. Soon his hand was on your breast and he skilfully fondled it as he continued to finger you at a punishing pace.
Your moans rung clear in the office while he pleasures you on the couch. At least your wetness can easily be cleaned off the leather. Your eyes rolled back as you gripped your thighs in a heightened pleasure.
  “So good for me.” He praised, “A beautiful woman I am able to give pleasure to, it's an honour.” He knew your heart was racing, he could probably feel it. He continued to kiss at your neck as his pace quickened even more. 
Your toes curled in the intense feeling and you moaned loudly as you rolled your hips in time with his movement which caused your breasts and belly to bounce. The knowledge of that made Mihawk's cock twitch in his pants. You really were a remarkable woman. 
He pinched at your nipple and your moans got louder. You pussy clenched around his fingers and he groaned into your flushed skin, ”So perfect.“ he thumb gazed at your clit and you practically jumped but you didn't get too far. He pulled you back in and you got louder as he pleasured you further.
You felt a grip around you as hot pleasure raced through your body. Your core felt on fire from the sensation. And Mihawk thought it was divine.  You looked angelic, especially when he hit just the right spot and you climaxed. 
He groaned into your skin as you tightened around his fingers. You tensed for a moment before you relaxed against him and tried to catch your breath. Yor head was spinning but you felt safe in Mihawk's arms. 
  ”How was that?“ He asked, ”You looked divine when I was pleasuring you. Do you want more?“
You exhaled deeply and slowly got up. You stood in front of him, ”Well.“ You said, ”Let's see how resilient this lace is?“ Then slowly he brought you back to the couch with the full intention of seeing what 'damage' he could do before the other men came home. 
-
Buggy was home the most, while the other two had matters to attend to off the island, Buggy was well Buggy. He was a fearsome clown but you spent the most time with him. You enjoyed his company, even when it was something as simple as watching over you while you gardened. 
It was the middle of summer and everyone was in their own little corner of the house. You were out in the garden behind the manor waddling around with a watering can in hand. You were tending to the roses portion of the garden before you moved on to the strawberries nearby. 
You didn't mind the alone time, it gave you time to think. You tried not to get too anxious about how your life is going to change once the baby is born. It felt so far away yet so close. Before the first autumn leaves you were going to be a mother! And at times it left you rather anxious. 
You shook off the thoughts while you poured the water over the roses. You heard the back door open and close. You turned to look over and saw Buggy. And when your eyes met, he broke out into a grin. 
  ”Well there you are, my peanut!“ Then made strides to get closer to you. You quickly noticed in his hand was your large sun hat. He approached and placed it on your head, ”I don't think now is the best time to get a sunburn. You know Crocodile will kill you.“ Then leaned in for a kiss. 
While the other two were mysterious, Buggy seemed normal in comparison. Well, for a clown pirate anyway. He had a very sweet spot for you and while you hadn't seen much of his feared nature, you enjoyed your time with him. He was an open book to you.
  ”You know one of us can do that, like you don't have to keep coming out here. Especially alone, what if you slip on some mud or like... A bird drops a rock on your head!" 
You laughed, ”Buggy, I think I have bigger things to worry about than a bird."
He shrugged before he took the watering can from you, “I'd hate to see anything happen to ya, so let's go. It's time for  a break!” Then placed it down before he guided you away from the garden and towards the shade under the largest tree on the property. 
He helped you down onto the grass and he went in for another kiss. He moaned against your lips as gloved hands cupped your face. It was almost romantic if not for the heat between your kisses. Your heart jumped.
  “You shouldn't be out here all alone, angel. What if someone hurt you? What if someone took you from me?“ He stared down at you.
You smiled back at him and reached out for him. You placed a hand on his cheek and assured him, ”No one would ever dare.“ Then went in for another kiss.You felt excitement race though you as he laid down in the grass with you on top of him. 
  ”Good, because you're mine, peanut. Just like that kid in your belly.“ He grinned at you and nodded. Soon with the help of his powers one of his hands reached down, detached from his body and lifted up your dress. He slipped his hand under and found the less than stylish maternity underwear you wore. 
  ”What do you think you're doing, clown?“ You asked, as you held his face, ”Did you come to check on me so you could fuck me?“ 
He laughed, ”Of course not, having sex with you is just a bonus!“ Then with another hand, pull down the underwear to the middle of your thigh, ”C'mon, then afterwards I'll even help ya water the garden. Seeing you all domestic has really turned me on.” Then he grabbed your ass. 
You moaned and he pulled you in for a searing kiss. He continued to gab at your ass as the kiss deepened. He pulled you dress up further to expose your bare ass to the afternoon air. 
  “You drive me crazy.“ He remarked before he created a bit of room between you two to get his cock out of his pants, ”So why don't you be a good girl and get me off.“ He beamed at you. 
You squeezed his nose between your thumb and pointer finger, ”And what do we say with that, Buggy?“
He frowned suddenly, ”Please. Please angel, sugar, honey, peanut, please, please!“ His cock was out of his pants and pressed into your swollen middle, ”I'd love to see that belly bounce while ya ride me.“  Then he attached both hands to his wrists and held onto your waist. ”I want you.“
You chuckled and held onto the bottom of your dress so a bit of your belly was exposed as you eated yourself onto him. You held his hand for support as you slowly seated yourself onto him. You exhaled deeply, “Yeah.“
  ”Doing alright there, peanut?“ He asked as he rubbed your hip with his free hand, ”That's it, good girl.“
You moaned as you started to roll your hips.  You held onto his hand and the bottom of your dress while you rolled your hips. You felt his cock nudge against the most sensitive spots. For a clown he was a good fuck.
Your eyes closed and your mouth slightly opened as you moved faster.  Buggy groaned and soon both hands were on your hips as he tried to meet your pace. “Shit.” You moaned as you felt pleasure spread through your body like warm butter on hot toast. Your cheeks were flushed as you continued to move your body. 
The two of you went at it, you kept the pace steady. It was getting quicker but the depths that he pushed against made you see stars behind your eyelids. Your heart raced as you moved against him. The feeling of overwhelming moments. Sex with Buggy left you breathless as it did with the other men. You were glad that your pussy could take a beating. The thought made you smirk for a second before you felt his thumb rub up against your clit. 
You jolted up but he used his other hand to keep you back down on his cock. He chuckled, “You're not getting away that easily, angel. I know I make you feel good, that's why the brat in ya is mine. His hand moved to your belly to feel around it while he played with your clit.
You felt moans bubble up in your throat as you rode him. You picked up the pace as the swirl of pleasure moved in the pit of your stomach. Your breathing was rapid as your belly moved with your movements. A sight the clown would never get out of his mind. His girl pregnant with his brat riding him on a sunny afternoon, he couldn't luck out more than this!
Soon the pleasure became an overwhelming feeling for both of you. He handed onto your belly with both hands as he pushed up deeper into you. Your coe felt soaked from the stimulation of his cock as you thrust your hips. Soon your hands were over his on your bump as you moved as fast as your pregnant body would allow.
Buggy's eyes rolled back as he gripped onto your belly, your dress fell back down over the bump as you two met each other's pace. Pleasure coursed through you and you tilted your head back in an attempt to catch your breath as you moved. 
You felt your dress cling to your sweaty back as the two of you made love under the sun. The feeling was euphoric. You reached down and grabbed him by the font of his shirt as you felt on the very tip of orgasm.
The moa got caught in your throat as you climaxed. You tightened around him and he soo finished off too inside of you. He painted your inside white as he let out a loud groan and went limp on the ground. 
You slid off of him, cum stained your inner thigh. You wiped the sweat from your forehead and said, ”C'mon now, Buggy. You have to help me water strawberries.“ But his hands, that were detached from his wrists, pulled your dress up once more.
Soon he was on top of you, squishing your belly as he said between ragged breaths, ”Not until I make you scream, peanut.“ With a wild grin on his face. 
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Kiss, Marry, Kill: Part 1/2 (LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader)
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Summary: In which Buggy overhears a private conversation and uses that knowledge against you. Pairing: LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader Rating: Semi-explicit. Word Count: ~3k (of 5.3k) Warnings: Clown abuse, strong language, incorrect use of a straight razor.
Never had you on my mind Now you're there all the time Never knew what I missed until I kissed ya
---
By all accounts, Buggy should be having a great time. There's food, alcohol, gambling... hell, there's even a swimming pool. Not that he can partake, but he can live vicariously.
Instead, he's got a whole school of shark eyes trained on him as he sits on a stool next to Arlong's throne. This water park sucks.
He's not chained up or anything. The threat of a couple dozen sets of teeth ripping into him is reason enough to sit perfectly still, keep his mouth shut, and try to look as small as possible. No sudden movements, no change in expression, no—
"Kiss the clown, marry the waiter, kill Pink Hair."
Buggy sits bolt upright and looks around. Who the hell said that?
Arlong doesn't even deign to look at him. "Hear something?"
Clear. Crisp. With a little bit of an accent, maybe. He's heard it somewhere recently, but where?
Certainly not here. It was a woman's voice, and Arlong Park is a bit of a sausage party at the moment. Not that he can tell on sight with fishpeople.
"Answer me, clown," Arlong rumbles.
He forgets who he's talking to for a moment. "Eavesdropping's an art," he snaps. "You can't rush art."
Big mistake. Arlong responds with a low, wet growl. "It's been three days. My patience is running thin."
Quiet chatter. The clinking of silverware. Someone chewing with their mouth open. The little pirates are at a restaurant, it seems.
He relays this to Arlong. He's less than pleased. He enunciates every word to show his teeth. "Care to be more specific?"
A shudder crawls up the back of Buggy's neck. He takes a swig of his drink to cover it. He places his fingers over his remaining ear, straining.
"You're shitting me." That voice he recognizes. The redhead. The one who ruined his show. The one Arlong's so interested in. Nadi? Nani? Noni?
The other woman speaks. "Nami, you rejected him," she says. "Girl Code only applies if you were dating."
Nami. That's her, the conniving little bitch. "No, not the waiter. I mean you'd seriously kiss the clown? He nearly killed us."
He'd recognize Rubber Boy's voice anywhere, the little shitheel. "And his nose would get in the way."
The mystery woman speaks up again. "That's nothing new. I’ve smacked noses with plenty of guys."
Okay, that narrows it down. It’s not the redhead, it can't be Rubber Boy or the bounty hunter, so that leaves...
...you. Of course it's you. How could he forget you? You're the only one who laughed at Axe-Hand Moron. Granted, it was more like a snnrrrk and you immediately clapped your hand over your mouth, eyes wide with horror, but it was a laugh all the same.
And in that moment, he knew he liked you. Bad sense of humor. Cute smile. A little bashful. He appreciates that. Sure, you helped humiliate him not an hour after the fact, but all's fair in love and piracy.
"Look, I'm not saying it’s a good idea," you continue, "but sometimes you gotta live dangerously."
The bounty hunter speaks, dry and droll. "Storms are dangerous. Bar fights are dangerous. You're just insane."
"Oh, c'mon, you're not seriously gonna hold Fu..." You pause. "Kiss Marry Kill answers against me."
So that's what's going on. "They're just chattering like they always are," he says to Arlong.
Arlong does not like that answer. He snatches Buggy up by the neck, lifting him clear off the ground with only one hand.
"Wait! Wait wait wait! They're still talking! I might have something!" He kicks and struggles, but it's no use.
You speak. "You think everything pops off? ‘Cause a gal could really— hyurk.”
Laughter all around as you’re cut off by something. Sounds like you choked.
“Thank you, Usopp,” Nami says. ���I am not having that conversation.”
Arlong saunters over to the pool, carrying Buggy like a ragdoll. He has precious few seconds now. C'mon, he wills them, say something useful!
A slap, a spit, then a couple of hard coughs. “Nice shot,” you wheeze. “Use the unspicy peanut next time. I think I burned my windpipe.”
The new guy — Usopp — scoffs. “Spicy? Please. This isn’t spicy. Baratie spicy is barely a zip. Now, you want spicy, you gotta hit up the Great Pepper Isles. Their chilis are so hot, I had an out-of-body experience.”
And boom, there it is. Right as he's about to be dropped into the water, his ticket to life.
“Baratie! They're at Baratie," he chokes out. "That floating restaurant. That really nice one I got thrown out of, the pricks."
It was Cabaji's fault. Turns out whipping a unicycle out at the bar is frowned upon. Who'd've thunk.
Arlong 'smiles.' All teeth and gums and no mirth at all. "Consult our charts," he says to the nearest fishman. "I'll prepare our compass."
He grabs Buggy by the hair and yanks. In the interest of not getting his neck broken, he separates his head from his body. Unfortunately, gravity takes over and his body plunges into the pool.
Weakness swamps him like a rogue wave. He can't say a word as he's stuffed into a cloth sack and everything goes dark.
In both ears, all he can hear are the sounds of laughter.
---
Someday, Buggy will learn not to run his fat mouth. That day is not today.
Usopp barges into the galley and lobs his head through the air, a low slow toss. He only has a moment to appreciate not being overhand pitched before landing on the floor. Not on his nose, fortunately, but it still hurts.
He points at the blonde guy — Sanji? Sanji. "I can't take it anymore. He's your problem now. I'm going to bed. Goodnight."
He tramps off as Buggy flips himself upright. “What’s his problem?” he asks no one in particular. “Sheesh, you make one ‘your mom’ joke and—“
A decidedly unmanly yelp escapes him as he's popped up into the air. The world spins and turns and he braces himself to hit the ground again, only to be caught in soft hands. He's spun around...
...and comes face to face with you, regarding him with curious, contemptuous eyes.
Oh, you're even prettier up close. The redhead's a looker, but she's still a kid. Soft. Pale. Set like a mousetrap, ready to spring and break some poor chump's neck at the slightest provocation.
But you? You're a grown-ass woman. Comfortable in your sun-kissed skin. A twinkle of experience in your eye and the ease of someone who's been sailing her ship for years.
He can't help but smile. "Well, well, well. Fancy meeting you here, gorgeous," he says with a wink.
From the corner of his eye, he sees Sanji shoot him a glare. Your expression remains cool and uninterested. Shifting his head to your side, you hold him against your hip like a laundry basket. Even through your trousers, the soft swell of flesh warms his cheek.
“Weren't you just on buggysitting duty?” you ask Sanji.
Buggysitting? Really? "I'm right here, y'know," he grumbles.
He's ignored, as per usual. Sanji straightens up and huffs. “New guy always gets the shit jobs.”
“Let’s trade,” you say. “You take my watch and I’ll mind our chatty compass.”
Rude. “I’m still right here.”
Sanji shakes his head. “Go get your beauty sleep. Not that you need it, of course."
Wow, that was a bad line. Buggy makes his displeasure known with a retch.
“Sleep is for people who don’t have coffee.” You flap your hand toward the door. "Shoo.”
Sanji glances between you and Buggy, but heads for the door. "Any trouble at all, love, and I’m a shout away."
A little smile colors your voice. "If he starts gnawing my ankles, you’ll be the first to know."
Sanji returns the smile, sickeningly sweet. As he leaves, you sit at the table, placing Buggy across from you.
He wants nothing more than to plant his leg on a stool, lean in on his knee, and give you a toothy grin. But alas, he must settle for the grin. "Alone at last. Come here often?"
You don't even bother to look at him, too preoccupied with picking up a very shiny straight razor and a strip of leather. Muscle ripples under your skin as you slide the blade back and forth.
"So you're the barber," he says. You don't respond. "Can't imagine you're too busy on a ship with a bunch of babyfaces." Still nothing. "Don't suppose I could get a shave, then? Last time I used a straight razor, I ended up like this!"
"Barber surgeon," you say as you inspect the blade. Dissatisfied with some invisible blemish, you continue stropping.
He shrugs, only to remember he can’t. "Say, doc, I can't feel anything below my neck. Could you take a look?”
Irritation tints your voice. “Not a doctor,” you say. You’ve clearly had to explain this countless times before. “Doctors treat the inside. I fix up the outside.”
“Splitting hairs, Miss Sawbones.”
Shiff shiff shiff goes the razor. "If you don't stop talking, we’re gonna see if cutting off the nose really does spite the face. Might be an improvement for you.”
That’s just low. “Keep talking shit and this bark is gonna turn into bite.”
You finally look up. You level the razor at him, glaring down the blade. “You’re the only one talking, clown.”
Damn. Your eyes are pretty. Warm as the first sunbeam of a summer morning, but dark as the blotches he gets in his eyes when he looks into a spotlight by accident. Hot like one, too. Heat lurks below the dark surface, like warm charcoal about to catch fire.
Nerves ball up in his absent chest. He swallows them and summons his bravado. “Can ya blame me? I’ve got shit else to do. I’ve met parrots with more to say than you.”
"Count the cracks in the ceiling."
"One, two, three—“ He gives an exaggerated groan. “Didn't you say you were gonna make coffee? Can I get in on that?"
You scoff, but you do stand. "Last thing you need is caffeine.”
“The last thing I need is to be held hostage by a bunch of greenhorn nobodies,” he says, "and yet here I am."
“Sucks to suck,” you say. You pull a pot out of a cupboard and fill it with water. “How do you take it? Sugar? Cream?”
“Black. Like my heart.”
You let out that snnnrrrrk of a suppressed laugh again. What a nice sound. “Something we got in common.”
“Black heart or black coffee?”
“Yes.”
Such a simple, easy response. Not even particularly clever. But the delivery with no hesitation, no intonation, no second guessing the punchline. He laughs. “I knew I liked you!”
You glance over your shoulder at him. “You try to kill everyone you like? No wonder you have no friends.”
He hops to the edge of the table. Not an easy feat with only a stump. “C’mon, babe. All’s fair in love and piracy.”
Calling you babe was a blindfolded over-the-shoulder shot in the dark, but it lands. You add a smile to your glance. “I’ll give you that and nothing more.”
Somewhere, miles away, his heart flutters. He lets it. “Will you still give me coffee?”
“Only if you shut up ‘til this water boils.”
In this state, he’ll take any scrap of stimulus he can get. He bites his tongue and bites it hard, willing himself not to speak.
Silence creeps in. Silence leads to stewing, and stewing leads to bad thoughts. Bad feelings. Lonely feelings. Like how long it’s been since he’s had a friendly cuppa joe with someone. Or had someone honestly laugh at his stupid jokes.
Especially not someone as quick as you. Or as pretty. Or with such a nice ass. Or who maybe-sorta-kinda-might-possibly be interested in him. Potentially. Hypothetically.
There’s no damn way, he tells himself. You’re humoring him. You’re definitely shacking up with that cook — young, charming, handsome. Or the bounty hunter, maybe — tall, dark, broody.
You wouldn’t give him a second glance. Him, a pathetic, painted, big-nosed weirdo. Who is currently a severed head. A temporary state, but still not a good first impression. Even though his actual first impression was trying to kill you and your buddies. This second first impression is just as bad.
A sharp groan escapes him before he can stop it. He eyes you, expecting you to snap at him or worse.
But you don’t. You pause in your pouring to peer over your shoulder at him, gaze soft. “Y’alright?”
There goes his heart again. Ugh. “Peachy. That coffee done yet?”
You curl your lip. “What’s got your panties in a knot?”
“Just realized I’m gonna need a straw or some shit.”
Still sneering, you set a shallow mug in front of him. “I’ll see what I can find.”
See? You definitely don’t like him. Stupid fucking jackass, letting his hopes get up. This is what he gets.
…A nice, warm cup of coffee. If you really hated him, you wouldn’t have given him coffee, right? Or be looking for a straw?
You’re just humoring him. You just want to save your friend. Catch more flies with honey and all that. He’ll be more agreeable if you’re friendly.
Across the room, you open a drawer. “Hey, bendy straws. Perfect.”
You’re breaking out bendy straws for him? There’s gotta be something there! At least a little something!
No. No way. Coincidence.
You place an oddly long straw into the mug. He realizes it’s three normal ones jammed end-to-end, creating a pipe ending just about level with his mouth.
You just pulled some engineering shit so he can drink coffee with you. There’s definitely something.
An ice cube plops into the mug and you slide back into the booth with your own cup. “Might dilute it a bit, but can’t have you burning your mouth.”
His distant heart flips again. He has to say something. Before he can convince himself otherwise. He says the first thing that comes to mind.
“So,” he says, “‘kiss the clown,’ eh?”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. That’s the first thing he thought of? Seriously? He braces himself for boiling coffee thrown in his face.
You freeze mid-sip, brows raised. “Excuse me?”
Okay, you don’t look mad. “Don’t deny it, babe. I heard everything. Kiss Marry Kill? Nice job keeping it kid-friendly, wink wink."
You stare at him with those dark eyes. "No idea what you're on about."
"I know you know. And I know you know I know." He waggles his eyebrows, hoping for a laugh, but he gets nothing.
You watch the steam swirling up from your mug. "What do you want me to say, exactly? That I chose you to kiss?"
"I just wanna know what possesses a woman to make her want to shack up with the guy who tried to kill her and her friends." He lips the straw into his mouth and takes a test sip. Still quite hot.
"Circumstance. Process of elimination. Being put on the spot." You pick up the razor. Your fiddling with it belies your agitation.
"Don't lie to me, babe," he croons. "I can see right through you."
You stare at him. "And what is it that you see?"
What does he see? "A woman on a knife's edge of self-satisfaction and self-destruction. Once bitten, twice shy, but when he comes around the third time, you just can't help yourself."
Your fiddling becomes more insistent. You break eye contact to look at the razor. He's hitting on something. Time to push some buttons.
"You bet on the wrong horse every time. You think it'll be different this time. But it never is." He smiles bitterly. "Something else we got in common. Birds of one ugly feather."
Your gaze softens as you return your gaze to him. "So you found the problem, Doctor Headshrink. What’s the prescription?"
Shoot your shot, Buggy. "Kiss the clown and maybe we'll find out."
You're still for a few moments. Then slowly, carefully, you slide your hand across the table. You pull him closer as you lean lower in your seat to eye level with him.
He can't help the way his breath quickens. It's been so, so long since he had any kind of intimacy. Your reedy fingers trace his jaw down to his chin. Your thumb comes up to pull at his bottom lip, and he lets out a satin-soft whimper as he opens his mouth to you.
You strike like a snake, yanking his tongue out with one hand and readying your razor with the other. His choke turns into a scream as you bring it down, severing his tongue clean at the root.
It's one thing to disconnect body parts. Pop a leg off, drop an ear — he’s used to it. But it's a different story when said part is supposed to be inside of him. His tongue waggles like a fish as he tries to return it to his mouth, but you keep a firm grip.
"You can have this back in the morning," you say.
He wants to cuss you out, but what comes out is ew bihck, whadda fuhck iss won wif ew, gif ih bahck.
You laugh. And lord, what a laugh you've got. Loud, like a party gone late into the hours of the night. Clattery, like a dozen plates shattering on the floor. Full of mirth, like a drunk on payday.
And, for the briefest of moments, his rage is forgotten. He wants to make you laugh like that.
But it returns with a vengeance, replaced with a desire to see you squirm.
---
⬅⬅⬅ | To the "Curious Courtship" Masterpost | To the Mastahpost | Tip Jar | ➡➡➡
822 notes · View notes
gennemi · 4 months
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𝑵𝒆𝒘 𝒀𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝑲𝒊𝒔𝒔 (𝑶𝒏𝒆 𝑷𝒊𝒆𝒄𝒆 𝑴𝒆𝒏 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔)
A/N: Happy New Year's to all my lovely followers! I hope you all had a safe and lovely New Year's, I love you all! ✨🖤 and thank you to my friend for helping me make this happen! 🖤✨
Includes: Dracule Mihawk, Monkey D. Luffy, Roronoa Zoro, Sanji Vinsmoke, Buggy the Clown, Red-Haired Shanks, Trafalgar D. Water Law, and Portgas D. Ace
Warnings: Pure Fluff, mentions of Alcohol, kissing, just pure fluff, non binary reader.
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𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒆 𝑴𝒊𝒉𝒂𝒘𝒌:
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Mihawk and his lover are just spending New Year's just the both of them, sipping on his favorite vintage wine, having light conversation, and cooking New Years dinner together, and even making little snacks, to snack on. The two of them were making small conversation about how this year went. 
Spending time together is all the two wanted to start the new year, no one else but them. It was basically an hour before midnight. So right now the two were currently dancing around the large living room of their castle that they called home. The two lovers didn’t need music to dance. 
He looked at the clock, it read a minute before midnight. He pulled her close to him, looking into her eyes with his hawk-like eyes. As he continued to hold them close to him, spinning them around softly, he looked back at the clock, and saw it had hit midnight.
“Happy New Year Darling, here's to another amazing year with you.”
He spoke softly, as he pulled them in to give them a New Years Kiss.
𝑴𝒐𝒏𝒌𝒆𝒚 𝑫. 𝑳𝒖𝒇𝒇𝒚:
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“Happy New Year Y/N!” the straw hat captain grinned. The straw hats, with the help of Franky and Nami keeping up with time, had planned a big feast to celebrate the beginning of a New Year. Smiling warmly at their  captain trying to steal food while Usopp and Nami valiantly defending the food. Zoro was already sipping on his booze, Robin was relaxing while using her devil fruit ability to help bring food to the table. 
After the big feast, it was about a few minutes before midnight, the two went to another part of the Thousand Sunny, to spend alone time together. They had a small conversation together. Her giggling at Luffy being his usual silly self, he loved hearing them laugh. And seeing their smile.
Soon the fireworks went off, the fireworks being Nami’s idea, so they had bought the fireworks to shoot off “HAPPY NEW YEAR!” They heard their fellow crewmates shout. He poked them on the shoulder, she looked at him.
“Happy New Year!” 
He cheered out, happily as he pulled them close, giving them a New Years Kiss.
𝑹𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒂 𝒁𝒐𝒓𝒐:
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For New Years he wanted to spend time with them just the two of them. Up in the crows nest of the Thousand Sunny with a bottle of sake. And a plate of food for them to eat, while their crew members partied down below, he was planning something a little special, as soon as the fireworks went off (Which were Nami’s idea)
The two were sharing a bottle of sake, while talking. All cuddled up together in the crows nest. The two were cracking jokes about the things that had happened during this year, and hoping to make fond memories for every year to come. They don’t even know the time currently. Too busy wrapped up in each other's embrace.
The fireworks then suddenly went off with their fellow crewmates yelling “HAPPY NEW YEAR!” from below them, he looked over at her softly grabbing their face, to have them look at him.
“Happy New Year babe, here’s to the new year. And plenty more to go.”
He spoke, as his lips pressed against hers. Giving them a New Years Kiss.
𝑺𝒂𝒏𝒋𝒊 𝑽𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒌𝒆:
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The straw hat crew was hosting a New Year party/feast on the Thousand Sunny. Sanji and his beloved were drinking some wine together, while eating the food that Sanji prepared with their help. The couple were happy to go into the new year together. As the crew laughed, and conversated about how this year went. All the memories they made.
Sanji and his beloved were conversing about the good, bad, and funny memories they made together. As they snuggled up together, waiting on Franky and Nami to shoot off the fireworks. To go into the new year.
Soon the fireworks went off, he looked over at them pulling them close to him, putting a hand softly on their cheek. 
“Happy New Year my beloved, here's to many more with you~”
He spoke, as he leaned in and softly gave them a New Years Kiss.
𝑩𝒖𝒈𝒈𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒏:
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There was a party being hosted by Buggy himself on The Big Top. It was a New Years party to celebrate going into the new year, with plenty of sake and food to go around, it was a whole feast. In their own corner was Buggy and Y/N spending time with each other, eating food and drinking sake together. 
They had planned to shoot off fireworks, as soon as it was midnight. And Buggy also had something planned to go into the new year with his lover. He felt happy to celebrate new years with them, he couldn’t wait until it hit midnight.
Soon the sound of fireworks in the sky surrounded the area, they looked up at the fireworks in awe as the crew yelled out “HAPPY NEW YEAR!” as they cheered and hollered, Buggy pulled them close to him, causing them to look at him.
“Happy New Year Doll~”
He cooed softly, as he pulled them in for a New Years Kiss.
𝑹𝒆𝒅-𝑯𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝑺𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒔:
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The crew was of course celebrating New Year with a party, with of course alcohol being involved. Shanks had his love sitting on his lap, him being the clingy partner that he is. Wanted them close to him, as the two drank on the rum. And ate on the food that was served.
They had managed to buy fireworks for this occasion, as his love wanted fireworks. And him being the amazing lover that he is. Made sure that happened. The one keeping up with the time was Lucky Roux, he let everyone know it was almost time for it.
The time went by fast as the fireworks now went off, shooting up into the sky with different, beautiful but vibrant colors, he pulled them close to him, to get their attention. They looked at him.
“Happy New Year Love, to many more with you.”
He pulled them into a New Years Kiss.
𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒈𝒂𝒓 𝑫. 𝑾𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑳𝒂𝒘:
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The Heart Pirates were celebrating new years on the Polar Tang, with food and snacks, and drinks to choose from, it was just a small celebration amongst the crew. Law and his lover were hanging out on the deck, just them wanting to spend alone time together. He had a watch on his wrist so he could tell when it's midnight.
He wanted to do something special for them as soon as midnight hit, he was listened to them rant about the memories good, bad,and silly that they made this year, and hoping to make the same memories with him during the new year.
He looked at his watch, noticing it was now midnight. He looked over at them, touching their face gently, causing them to look at him, he leaned in close to them.
“Happy New Year Doll.”
He whispered softly, bringing them into a New Years Kiss.
𝑷𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒈𝒂𝒔 𝑫. 𝑨𝒄𝒆:
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The two were strolling down the busy street hand in hand, they wanted to come to the New Years Festival with him, and how could he say no to his lover. The two were sharing a candied apple. Looking at all the stalls open, the smells of different foods wafting in the air.
When it was almost time for the fireworks to go off, the two went to the outskirts of the town, and sat down on a small hill, where they are still able to see the fireworks go off. They were joking around, and talking to pass the time.
Soon the fireworks went off as they heard cheers from the festival below, the two looked at each other, this was his chance, he put one of his hands softly on their cheek rubbing it softly.
“Happy New Year My Flame!”
He cheerfully said, as he gave them a kiss, a New Years Kiss.
492 notes · View notes
onyx-syn · 7 months
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Cockwarming Headcanons with LA! Buggy and LA! Shanks
Warnings: Smut, some fluff, Female Reader, Flirting, Cockwarming, Some praises, pet names and Unprotected Sex
*Don't steal my writings and claim it as your own*
*18+ Only*
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Buggy
🌹Buggy the clown is many things, one such thing is he is a sucker for you. A sucker for your love and touch, always wanting to be the center of attention around you
🌹And boy is he obsessed with the idea of his cock inside of you. Idea? Well, for a while he held back the thought of doing such a thing with you until the time finally came around to it
🌹See, for a while Buggy wasn't exactly comfortable with the physical touch. Not that he didn't want to touch you or be touched, it was more or less his insecurities taking over him
🌹But once he gets comfortable and used to you, oh he is melting for you and your touch at every giving moment
🌹He loves cockwarming you. I feel as he's able to detach his limbs he would be a little naturally cold? Or get easily cold? So, naturally, he nuzzles up to you when you two have time alone or wants you to nuzzle up to him. He loves feeling the heat emitting from your skin against his cold body, and even more so when he Buries his cock deep inside of you
🌹Where he likes to do it at is the fun part. He's both a private and public man. Sometimes he likes to do it in the comforts of your own room, deep in the night as deep as he's in you, only he can hear your sweet little moans of his cock burying deep inside you before you both end up sleeping
🌹Or, be a little sneaky and have you seated in his lap, rolling your hips around in circles, his hands gripping onto your hips keeping you steady, so you don't make the mistake of altering the members at the meeting of your sinful doing (which at that point, some of them have already figured you two were doing something)
🌹He'll leave his cock with you when you're in the mood or when he's gonna be gone for a while. He most definitely has phantom feelings so he can feel your walls greet him from afar. How hot your cunt feels, feeling his cock warm up and become wetter due to you. He's actively melting and mewling for you
🌹The feeling of your walls clenching him is out of this world, however it is difficult for him to restrain himself when he wants to buck his hips hard against your ass and cunt, hearing the sweet slapping sound of skin on skin. His body shutters at even just the thought of your walls around him
🌹His cock is the perfect size, a nice 5-6 inches. It grows half an inch when erected, which may not seem much but ol boy does he show it off. A pretty nice girth he's got going on down there, a nice handle around his length when you stroke him. He has a visible vein on the underline of his cock, which his length curves just a little. His tip starts off as a nice light pink before going to a nice red
🌹His cock is very sensitive with the vein and the underside of his tip. His body shutters when he feels the underline of his cock graze against your squishy walls, moaning as he feels the hotness grace it
- "Fuck", Buggy whispers to himself, a sweat tear drip dripping down the side of his cheek.
A loud moan left his wet lips, which he regretted a little after. He wants to ruin you, but he understands that during that time at night it wouldn't be right with how tired you both are.
The room felt unbearably hot. He could feel his cold skin turn into a molten pot of lava. His length deep inside you, the curls of his happy trail touching your ass and backside. Your naked body glowing in the darkness of the room, lit up by the moonlight shimmering through the windows.
A ravenous shockwave of pleasure rushing through his body as he could feel his body undergo an immense amount of pleasure. From his cock being smothered by your sweet folds and wet cunt, and the way your body so gracefully looked in bed and in his arms.
Your wet walls greeted him so nicely that he couldn't move, the only movement he wanted to give was bucking his hips into you, slow at first before speeding up. Wanting to hear your beautiful voice moan out his name, like the good girl you were to him.
His hands grazed your sides, grasping at your hips, a bit harsh, trying to keep himself composed.
His eyes fluttered to stay open, the pleasure overtaking him as he could feel his body overcome with the sensational feeling. Your body and cunt was like an intoxicating drug to him.
One of the most powerful pirates in The East Blue Sea, naked and trembling in bed with his love, his cock deep inside you wanting to fuck you senselessly. He was under your spell, like a loyal servant for your love and touch.
He brought himself out of his throughts as he hissed, feeling how nicely your walls clenched down on his cock, coating it in your slickness. He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, his lips kissing your skin with his nose bumping your shoulder.
He took in your scent, trying to calm himself down. He whimpered a little, bitting onto your skin trying to control his ravenous urges. His body was overheating at your cunt, it felt so good, felt incredible. He wanted- no- needed to fuck you.
His body jolts a bit once he feels your hand move just slightly over his, rubbing your thumbs in circles around his rough yet soft skin. A small giggle leaves your lips before moaning, the tip of his cock hitting your walls, making your thighs tremble from the action.
Buggy shutters when he feels the underline of his cock graze your walls, huffing in your ear as hips start to buck little by little. He's melting in your pussy at this given moment.
You spoke in a slumber tone, barely awake, "Is my good boy that needy?"
You could feel Buggy tighten his grip on your hips, nodding profusely. "Yes... You feel so good baby, so... Nice~" You hear him say. You can tell he wants to do much more than just sleep.
You smile at his words, leaning back just enough into him where you're able to turn your head and kiss his cheeks gently. "That's my good boy, you're doing- ugh- really, good~"
He nuzzles deeper into your neck, pressing more kisses and lightly biting at your skin. "Mmm~" he mummers under his breath, loud enough for you to hear.
"I want you so ... So bad... Fuck, oh fuck. Your- fuck, please, please let me... I want... I want to fuck you... Baby...~" Buggy couldn't handle it anymore, he needed you just as much as you needed him.
You could feel your cunt become wetter at his begging, feeling his words breeze against your neck, sending a hot wave through your body and skin. The moment was intense, and starting to feel hot on both ends.
You shakily grip his hand, bringing it down to your pussy, the cold contact of his hand touching your clit so gracefully was making you moan in absolute pleasure.
"Then- nnn- n-do it, f-fuck me baby~"
He loved it when you spoke to him like this, wanting all your attention on him and him only.
🌹he won't always be this sweet and a good boy to you though, some days he'll be desperately moaning in your ear and telling you how well you're taking him as he deepens himself in you
🌹He does try very hard to be your good boy though. He holds back his urges a lot when it comes to him warming his cock deep in you, whimpering quietly and trembling as he holds you against him. With how your walls clench down in his harden muscle, warming him up like a cookie or wetting him- it's too much for him to handle all at once
🌹 He'll end up begging to fuck you, wanting to pleasure you and make you cum for him and hear you moan his name and his love
🌹Overall, will live and die doing cockwarming with his sweets~
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Shanks
🌹Shanks is an adventurous lad. Always off exploring new things and trying out all sorts of activities and tricks. One such new trick he didn't expect to end up liking is cockwarming with you. And now he's an an absolute sucker for cockwarming
🌹Unlike Buggy at first, he loves physical touch and little acts of service to give you or for you to give him. Well, at least before he lost his arm. But even then, it doesn't bother him too much, he still is hesitant on letting you touch his nub at first, so it would take some time for him to get used to
🌹Shanks is also in his prime, he's much more of a laid back type of cockwarmer then always actively trying to find a way to put his length deep into your cunt
🌹He loves to be relaxing either in his captain quarters or just being comfortable in his hammock with you either on top of his, his cock deep inside you as you're doing a chore or simply sleeping ontop of him
🌹Or when he catches you from behind when you're alone, cooking or cleaning. He'll come up from behind slowly, his rough hands gripping your sides softly, whispering in your ear of how beautiful you look right now. His hands roam further down your body and pull down your bottoms, sliding his cock between your folds. He groans when entering each time, still unbelievably stunned at how amazing your cunt feels
🌹But, he'll keep composure for a bit, helping you with the task in hand while bucking his hips little by little, trying to restrain himself but it can be difficult. A lot of the time it'll end up having sex with him on the counter or crate
🌹He almost has no words to describe how the feeling of your walls clenching down on his cock feels. Feeling your warm slickness coat him, every square inch of his large muscle as he rolls his tip around against your walls, bringing your body to shutter in his grasp
🌹he's much more of a private guy then a public guy when it comes to this, not because he doesn't want to do it, show you off, and be risky with you doll. But he doesn't want the other members of his crew or simply strangers, hear your beautiful voice moan his name or see your glorious reaction to his cock entering you. That's for him and you to enjoy
🌹He's length is pretty girthy, more of a shower then a grower to be honest. He's packing a nice 6.5 inches, but the girth is a key word. Has a few visible veins and has an angry red top
🌹 Isn't very sensitive in some spots, however your tongue swirling around his tips over and over again sends a thrilling chill up his spine, a shock wave of pleasure washing over him as he feels your wet his cock
🌹Will try to buck his hips more and more when you cockwarm him, making his tip hit your walls and roll against them, sending a chilling wave of sensational pleasure throughout his body. If you catch him he'll give you a cheeky smile and embrace your lips with his
- You were preparing a meal in the kitchen of the ship, docked at the small island where you and Shanks crew laid low for now. Your ears perked at the footsteps entering into the room, noticing who the pattern belonged to.
A smile covered your cheeks as you felt a pair of rough hands wrap themselves around your fabric of clothing, rubbing your tummy softly before gripping onto your hips.
You felt a pair of lips kiss your ear, sending a small shockwave of euphoria down your spine. A large chest hitting your back as the person behind you spoke.
"Making dinner I see, my love?" Shanks spoke, his raspy voice chuckling.
You nodded in return, leaning back against his chest before kissing his cheek, smiling once more returning back to the task at hand.
"Of course, somebody's gotta feed you hungry dogs"
Shanks shook his head at that, but you can imagine the cheeky smile plastered across his face. You knew he had other intentions than to just help you with dinner, you could feel his rather large groin press against your ass.
His voice deepened, kissing your neck more slower and bitting here and there. "That's so nice my dear~"
You felt a rise of adrenaline rush through your veins, rolling your hips back into his hips. You stopped what you were doing and waited for Shanks to do his bidding upon you. You wanted to feel his cock burden itself in your cunt, feeling your folds become wet at the thought.
Shanks chest rumbled with a groan, his cock sliding through your wet folds as he pulled down the hem of your bottoms and your undergarments just enough to have access to your cunt.
"Dear- oh fuck...~" he whispered under his breath, cursing at the feeling.
The sensational feeling of your walls clenching down on his cock, coating him in your slickness. Shanks closed his eyes as a moan left his lips, feeling his tip touch your walls. He pressed his forehead against the back of your head.
His hands raced back to your hips, almost reaching your back and bending you over the counter to wreck your poor puffy cunt. But, he remained composed, despite the little bucking of his hips against your ass.
His red curly trail touching your backs and ass, tickling you just a bit. The feeling was intense for him, he was a strong man yes but this was something else for him.
Shanks started to buck more, having a nice handle on your hips. He turned his rhythm to the side a bit, shuttering at the feeling of his tip hitting your squishy wet walls, coating him over and over again as he continued.
Little moans left his lips. He squeezed his eyes closed, his lips pressing on your head, giving you small kisses. His cock swelled in your pussy, filling you up with his size just alone.
Your hands gripped the counter of the kitchen table, your thighs trembling. Feeling yourself full and your walls caressed from his cock alone, a low moan and mewl left your wet lips. It was times like this where you wished you weren't busy so your man could fuck you like no tomorrow.
Shanks could feel your body tremble in his touch, sending a chuckle out of him. "Feels good doesn't it my love?~" he asks, watching you nod. "You love it when I fill you up don't you~".
"Shanks~" You breathy let out a whimper, your nails digging into the granite counter.
Shanks leans forward, his hot breath making the hair on your neck stick up and sending a wave to your pussy. "Yes my love?~"
His words and voice made you feel so many things, all of which sinful and deeply inappropriate for such an open space. You shakily moved your hands, cutting the vegetables slowly as you tried to calm yourself down.
"I ... I-i want to try and finish, d-dinner... So i-if you don't plan on helping, we might as well stop or we'll end up r-ruining dinner" you mentioned to him, slowly gaining control of the situation.
"ruin it? Oh darling, dinner has barely started" He restated, chuckling a little. "especially when I'm looking at the dessert right in front of-"
"S-Shanks!" You cut him off, your face heating up from his comments and words about your intimate moment.
You feel him stop bucking his hips, his hands lessening it's grip on your hips before reaching the counter, holding up some vegetables and a knife. "Alright alright, I'll help you, but the real dinner for us will begin after this~" he whispered in your ear, now letting his cock settling itself in you, warming up for laters activities.
Dear god, good luck for you.
🌹It's moments like this between you two that he loves, both having fun while being romantic, his love for you never going away no matter what
🌹 he'll lazily rock his hips into yours occasionally, letting a cheeky smile cover his face trying to get away with the actions of his teasing on you. It brings excitement to the man and his adoration for you
🌹He's a sucker for cockwarming, no doubt
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rotten-pomegranate · 5 months
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Just imagine
Guys that can move you into whatever position they want and absolutely manhandle you because of the shear size difference and his strength
Like they can just push you down or pick you up and put you in whatever potion they want and even if you wanted to (we both know you don’t) you couldn’t do shit
Guys who can are halfway in and already pressed up against your cervix
Guys who have to bend down to kiss you but won’t half the time just to see you struggle on your tip toes
Guys who would flex there arms for you to feel and absolutely fawn over whenever you want because you know that they are yours
Guys who can come home and pick you up with no issues to bring you to the bedroom after a long day
Guys who eat three times more then you and never complain about cooking
Guys who you never get hit on when your with because everyone is scared they might get torn apart
Guys who can be so rough in bed but are really just gentle giants to you everywhere else it’s only you though
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Uvogin, mihawk, endeavour, gyomei, senami, hisoka, Sebastian, orochmaru, ryuk, buggy, all might, toji, Dazai, yami, Arlong
©rotten-pomegranate- All rights reserved, don’t steal, translate, copy, plagiarize, claim my work as your own or post it on other platforms.
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nishikiace · 8 months
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Hi! I really like the sub! Strawhat post and i was wondering if you can write something similar with other characters, preferably shanks, mihawk and katakuri (and maybe kuma 👉👈) or any character you want!
Sub characters and amab reader please!
Up to you if you want to write it or not
Anyways have a great day!!
ty for this request! love these old men 😩 also added buggy, yasopp and benn to stay in this generation's theme 💛
sub! shanks, yasopp, benn, buggy, mihawk, katakuri and kuma
[minor spoilers for kuma, mihawk and katakuri]
Warnings: top!male!reader, dom!reader - amab anatomy
[masterlist]
Shanks
(public sex, spanking, overstimulation, blowjobs)
genuinely what has this man not tried - he is the leading spirit of adventure both in the grandline and the bedroom
he gets horny often and incredibly easily. you need to wear him out completely by taking risks like making him cum in public or spanking his ass red to completion when you're alone. he enjoys sex with you too much so to overwhelm him, you have to push him into feeling intense emotions and sensations. make him see god
but when you do (his back arching, eyes rolled back and body convulsing after yet another orgasm), he gets drained of his energy and collapses into you. that's when you can completely ruin him by taking it further than he is prepared to handle
definitely obnoxious and unashamed of being caught in public. tease his cock through his pants under the table and he'll excuse his red cheeks with the alcohol served at this bar. finger him stealthily with your arm wrapped around his back and he'll lean in and pretend to be a close couple. only you are able to hear the hitched breaths and suppressed whimpers
his blush matches his hair real cute
shanks will happily get on his knees for you and suck your dick with a grin... after riling you up for hours. he likes to tease and nip at the skin around your cock, and loves when you grab him by his red hair and push his face deep in between your legs. moans if he feels you come down his throat
he's all shaky laughter and breathless fun against you when you take him against the wall of a marine building, pushing into your thrusts and moaning with each slap of your hips into his plush ass
Buggy
(brat taming, degradation, rough sex)
buggy is either too arrogant in himself to have much experience, or a complete whore when he's pushed around. definitely both, if you push him hard enough
leading a petty grudge like his towards shanks, and a constant on-edge insecurity in himself, buggy expresses himself through anger and arrogance. when you initiate with him, he will definitely carry that outrage into sex with you and it will be as rough and mean as he dishes out to others
he's a brat through and through and will only respond to you if you degrade and discipline him. he wants to be pushed into a corner and dismantled by your words and hands. tell him how much of a disgusting slut he is, point at his hard, leaking cock at just a few insults and force him onto his knees for you
loud when you break past his walls. he starts with soft grunts when you circle his nipples with your mouth and tease his pulse point but he quickly devolves into whining and angry sobbing if you dig your fingers in his hole or abuse his swollen cock. he'll refuse to look you in the eyes and will turn his head to the side, too teary and humiliated by how weak he is for you
angrily moans when you slam your cock into his mouth after an argument
he'll be begging for you to go harder and crying for more when you finally fuck him. if you hit his prostate consistently he'll start sobbing
his makeup will end up smeared all over his face and bedsheets, lips swollen enough to be red on their own
he's just so pent up, please fuck his brains out and give him a release for his anger by railing him until he cums dry
Mihawk
(marking, waxplay, riding)
I can't imagine a moment where mihawk isn't dignified and regal. making him go against his nature, debauched, is something that turns him on endlessly
lick and suck under his jaw to feel that corded muscle stutter under your tongue. his untouched neck is so sensitive and his abs even more so. trail kisses down to his navel and you will feel his stomach shudder against your lips and his hips buck into yours
its a point of pride for him to allow you to mark him like this, he will moan quietly into your mouth at the thought of being defiled against his reputation
he loves riding you on his throne seat. the feeling of your hard cock inside him drives him crazy. for him, a lot of submission is about the psychological aspect - the idea of letting someone claim him on both the markless outside and his hot insides. guide his hips harder and make him feel an imprint of your dick inside his hole for days
alone in his castle, he is far more open to giving into you. fuck him slowly on his back while dripping hot candle wax onto his skin, leave red marks across his pale chest. mihawk will be shaking and choking back groans at the contrasting stimulation
Katakuri
(praise kink, sensory deprivation, shibari, breeding)
this baby is the most submissive of this list and incredibly shy about it, despite his size and power. he's flushed and lightheaded at the idea that you want him this way
his insecurities about his face, body and strength are always on his mind, so he's not very experienced. katakuri needs to trust you completely, and you have to reassure him with praise so you can wring out orgasm after orgasm like he deserves
he's so shy about letting you hear his moans and whimpers and constantly tries to cover his face with his hands. don't let him, tell him how beautiful and perfect he is with every thrust to his prostate
the best way to shut katakuri's mind off and fuck the trauma out of him is with a blindfold and restraints. tie him up gently, lick at his nipples, suck the head of his cock and he will writhe in the sheets and shake like he's being tortured
katakuri loves when you edge him for hours with your mouth and fingers, he gets so oversensitive and whiny. only allow him to cum when you finally fill his hole, because nothing makes him feel more loved than being bred (the charlotte genes..)
Kuma
(soft sex, hand kink, inexperience)
like katakuri, kuma's position in canon is so precarious that he would struggle to be vulnerable with anyone. he's gentle and kind but hardened by the world so you should give him safety in your arms, with soft touches and gentle intimacy
his hands are the most sensitive part of his body (they're paw pads!), so you will make him melt if you gently intertwine your fingers with his when you push close to him, or trace his palms with your fingertips as you caress his inner thighs
he really appreciates patience with his timidity. he loves when you set the pace and guide his inexperience and make him tremble with the new sensations all over his body
suck his fingers while stroking his cock and this man will gasp and tremble and leak precum everywhere. he gets so wet for you
Yasopp
(blowjobs, facefucking, rough sex, child abandonment kink)
the issue with yasopp is that he's similar to usopp - charismatic and full of tales and boasting. however, he can actually back it up, so rather than anxiety, this man is annoyingly cocky and arrogant
shut him up by pushing your cock in his mouth and fucking his face until he cries. he likes to play the game of pretending he's punished, but the way he ruts that wet spot of his pants against your leg says otherwise
what he needs is, to be bent over and his hole abused and stretched while he wails like a whore. the feeling of being so thoroughly dominated really humbles him
Benn
(control kink, breathplay, choking)
benn is fairly neutral on sex and has had a fair amount of experience at his age, but rarely allows others to take control
what he needs with you is to be pushed into submission like its a snarling dog fight - the thrill of losing control to you like this gets him breathless
lick into his mouth when he smokes and shotgun him. he loves the intimacy of sharing smoke and breathing into each others mouths. he wants your complete focus and for you to take control of the function that keeps him alive
the moment he feels your hand wrap tight around his neck, he moans roughly and his cock twitches in his pants. grind into his ass with your fingers pushing bruises on his neck to really make him arch his back
if you really turn him on, benn makes these deep, guttural groans that rattle his body and make his eyes roll into his skull when he's about to cum
kuma was a hard one because he's so🗿 but i hope you like it ♡
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sordidmusings · 7 months
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Tender Love and Care - Hair Care (Buggy x Reader)
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Art by Capitanpoops (link keeps expiring QnQ)
A/N: Ah yes, another 'taking care of Buggy's head' fic to take up space on the internet. Just gotta indulge in giving this man some tlc. Did I write four thousand words of simping for the cringefail pirate clown's hair? Yes. And I'd do it again >:p
Word Count: ~4 k
Warnings: feminine leaning afab!reader (no pronouns or gendered titles), Lots of Feelings, yearning, possibly angst?, probably hurt/comfort?, waxing very poetic, Buggy being a prickly bitch who doesn't know how to receive affection, Buggy also being a delusional bitch who immediately latches on to that affection
amab!Version
Next ->
~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~
“Touch the makeup and I’ll bite your fingers off!”
“I’m quaking.”
“...I’ll spit in your face.” His eyes narrowed while you blanched. “I’ve got damn good aim too so you better watch those big ol’ eyes.” Almost a compliment? Progress.
“To save us both from catastrophe, I’ll let you keep your grease-face,” you promised. After a few more seconds of giving you the stink eye (really, you should be taking notes because his form is exemplary), Buggy finally settled back into your hold. His stubble scratched lightly at your palms and you allowed your thumbs a scant few passes from his cheek bones to the back of his jaw. That was easy enough to play off as mindless movements while you examined him for the coming wash. Hopefully.  You were at least putting in the effort to keep the affection in your chest from blooming into a wide smile on your face, lest he begin spitting like a wet cat again.
After placing him down on your clothes chest, you began gathering together the things you’d need to clean him up. You had already prepared a large basin of steaming water before you had grabbed Buggy from Zoro for your night shift with him. If he had truly protested against you then you’d just have extra water to pamper yourself with for your nightly routine. What a loss. While you flitted around grabbing a cup, a pile of towels, and care products, Buggy took to commenting about whatever his eyes fell on around your room. Your half-assed replies did nothing to discourage his gentle roast of your safe space. He only shut up when you picked him back up and brought him over to the basin.
You were taken by surprise when you took off his bandana.  You had guessed that his hair was thick from the pieces that framed his face, but you hadn’t expected long locks to be wrapped up in there. They slipped and fell down like silk despite being in clear need of a wash, and you started to become a bit excited to see how they would come to shine under your care.
“What’s wrong with you? Never seen hair before?” There was a bit more bite to him all of a sudden and it hit you that he may be self-conscious from your staring.
“Never seen yours before, duh,” you teased. “You should wear your hair out as a power move against all the scrangly ass men in these waters.”
Buggy took a blank-faced moment to process your words. Probably weighing your sincerity against the backlog of insults he’s heard in his life. Unfortunately, one joking compliment never stood a chance.
“Whatever, just do your job.” His bitter tone made you keep your mouth shut and drop the topic. For now.
Seeing how he had a lot more hair than anticipated, you got up again to grab yet another towel so that you could use it as a cushion. Finally settled, you grabbed Buggy in one hand, the cup in the other, and got to work. You had laid a small board across the basin so you could rest Buggy on it instead of having to hold him up the whole time. You may have gotten strong in this life, but you were not masochistic enough to try holding him up throughout this process. You made sure to be extra gentle when you put him to rest on the back of his head, mindful that the hard plank wasn’t the most comfortable.
Wetting his hairline was taking longer than you thought. The soft noises from the pouring water hitting his scalp and trickling through his hair into the basin below felt loud in the stillness of the room. Everything had a languid air like you could breathe freely without thought or time to measure the passing of each exhale. Wanting to check in, you looked down from your task and into Buggy’s face. Despite all his past showboating, Buggy was having difficulty keeping his gaze anywhere near your face.  You decided to take pity on him in his discomfort but not too much. “So how’d you get your damn good aim?”
Silence.
You’re beginning to think that him looking at you like you’re stupid is his comfort zone.
“You know, that ‘damn good aim’ that makes my ‘big ol’ eyes’ easy targets?” you supplied.  At first, you thought he would roll his eyes and make more digs at you, but he finally caught you off guard.
“It’s a trade secret,” he said with a growing smile and a glint in his eyes. His face grew even more pleased when you smiled mischievously back at him.
“Clown trade?”
He hummed out an affirmative. You saturated the last of his hair at the front and sides and now needed to dunk the rest in the basin. The sheer amount of long blue locks that this pretty, pretty man had may cause it to overflow, but you supposed that’s just a workplace hazard when becoming a glamor clown’s hairdresser. You paused in lowering him to look around quite dramatically (squinty eyes, pursed lips, and all) before leaning slightly closer to stage whisper, “You can tell me; I ain’t no snitch.”
You barely caught the laugh that he choked short in order to keep up his serious facade. He let his eyes wander the room to double check your surveying and pretended to be in thought. He let out a heaving sigh and said, “Okay, okay, but you have to lean in close. Can’t have this getting out.”
Ever obliging, you turned your head and leaned until you felt his warm breath on your skin and the roundness of his nose tickling to top of your ear. You were thankful he couldn’t see the little shiver down your spine or the goosebumps spreading down your neck. He was thankful you couldn’t see him close his eyes to savor the scent of your perfume. All was still for a few breaths too long.
“The secret?” you prompted, thinking he was waiting for your urging or that he was just trying to make you squirm. You didn’t see his eyes flutter open while he forced thoughts other than your closeness back into that head of his. Okay, he really needed to do something to reel himself back in and get some control of the situation.  Easier said than done when he’s only a head.
You felt as much as you heard him take a deliberate inhale… only for a loud raspberry to be blown right next to your ear.
Nearly dropping him in shock, you quickly pulled your head back and held him at arm’s length like a misbehaved puppy. Through his canting cackles, Buggy met your wide eyes with a proud grin. It didn’t even need the help of his makeup to split his face. Damn, you could stare at that forever. He had just the prettiest eyes you think you’d ever seen. The way they shifted color under the low lights and sparkled with his smile had you feeling entranced. It had the same commanding presence and addicting warmth as flames with their own swirling colors and sparking embers. You thought your poetic idioms for him would always center around the sea, especially for his blue-green eyes, but here we are.
The corner of his smile started to twitch downward under your stare until wild and cheerful giggles burst from your lips. They were the kind to shake your shoulders and scrunch your cheeks up into your eyes and he’s now certain that he has fucked right up. Buggy felt alarms blaring in his mind as he took in your joy and was certain he would make an absolute fool of himself in any and all ways possible to keep getting hits of it. Between your settling laughter, you managed to say, “Don’t worry, I’ll bring that wisdom with me to my grave.”
Readjusting your grip, you moved forward and dunked the back of Buggy’s head fully into the water. He sighed out at the sensation, but he fully melted when one of your hands went to support the back of his skull and the other flowed through his tresses to make sure all of them were wet. You let yourself take your time, both to make sure you were thorough and to indulge yourself in the comfort of the moment. A tenderness spread through you when you saw that this was also indulging Buggy. His breath was slow and steady, and his eyes were resting closed to better focus on the sensations coming to him. You truly were a people pleaser at heart and seeing someone so bedraggled and affection-starved accept your care made your heart and head feel fuzzy.
You slowly leaned him more upright and used your other hand to wipe out some of the excess water. Buggy felt you shuffling around, and his eyes opened to see what you were up to. After you moved him to rest on the flat bottom of his neck on top of the softest towel that he’s felt in ages, he realized that you went through the trouble to try to make even that wooden board comfortable for his sake. He was starting to feel even more uncertain and out of his element.
Careful fingers carded through and spread out his hair behind him while an equally careful gaze watched over their work. After lathering your hands with a shampoo bar scented by vanilla and spices, you set to work giving him the scalp massage of a lifetime.
While focusing on doing the best job possible and maybe also the beautiful color of his hair was keeping you from thinking about anything else, Buggy had no such luxury. He had nothing to direct his nervous energy at - didn’t even have fingers to fidget with! - so he closed his eyes and tried to keep his face neutral. Everyone enjoys a good scalp massage or at least some kind of pampering so it wouldn’t have been weird for him to visibly enjoy it, but something watery and vulnerable was pressing at his throat under your tender care. His mind and body (well… head) were at odds. While his train of thought spun every which way only to be tethered back to the word ‘why’, his muscles melted until they were soft and pleasantly limp. Has his brow ever been so smooth? His jaw so loose? His lips so softly set? Oh God, you must have noticed the stubborn stiffness in his neck because your fingers abandoned his hair to firmly rub from the base of his skull to where he met the towel and that was truly his undoing.
With a rumbly hum, Buggy finally gave in to temptation and tied his mind to your movements. He let himself imagine affection there - imagine that this was special and just for him. You’ve never tended to anyone else like this. You offered because you simply had to know what his hair felt like. You just wanted to touch him. You wanted it much more than you ever wanted to touch anyone else. If he opened his eyes and looked up at yours, he would see them pouring with love, just like your hands were, and you would look sweetly down at him with your pretty eyes and pretty smile and say lovely things and you’d love him-
You’d love him.
Fuck.
You noticed Buggy suddenly flinch under your hands and you tensed up.
“Are you okay? Did I snag your hair?” You hadn’t felt anything tug but you supposed you could’ve missed it.
Buggy cleared his throat before stiffly responding, “No. Keep going.”
Something thick in his tone caught your attention and you looked to see his expression was tense instead of the blissed out one you had admired not too long ago. That won’t do. You went back to the tried and true pressure points on the scalp that you knew from experience eased anyone up. Checking his face again, you noticed it was more relaxed but still too guarded for your tastes. Deciding he must be getting antsy, you switched to working the shampoo down his hair after getting a touch more product on your hands. The time it took to get it properly sudsed and rinsed was calm, despite the fact that there was some undercurrent to the air that felt charged. Maybe it was just from seeing the talkative and bratty clown be so subdued. As you began spreading conditioner through his hair, you decided that it was time to engage him again.
“This bar is my favorite; nothing makes my hair softer,” you said. Already, his hair was relaxing to glide even more smoothly between your fingers. You weren’t ready to give the feeling up, so you spent the entire time that the conditioner was setting to run your fingers through his hair.
Buggy couldn’t do anything at the moment to judge your claim, but the smell alone made him understand why it was your favorite. It matched that of the shampoo bar, but the richer ingredients in the conditioner highlighted the comforting tones of the vanilla and the sensuality of warm spices and wood. He relished in it on every inhale, hoping to unravel and memorize its every undertone. Was that a touch of orchid in there? A little pink peppercorn? Maybe some incense and amber at the base? Buggy suddenly felt ridiculous. He was never one to give much thought to fancy perfumes, yet here he was trying to dissect your scent like a sommelier tasting a new wine. 
You made quick work of rinsing his hair this final time and gently pushing and squeezing any excess water out. You set Buggy back on a towel, this time one that was spread on the floor. It was the one that you had just been sitting on. Buggy was embarrassed that he noticed and enjoyed the fact that he could still feel your body heat on it.
“How many of those things do you have?” Buggy scoffed as you pulled yet another towel over to dry his hair. You bopped his forehead with a finger in warning against further sass.
“You can never have too many. It’s something that you use daily and they come in handy during emergencies,” you explained.
“Oh yeah like what?”
“Well, I was thinking of situations like having to soak up a spill or blood, but the state of your hair definitely qualifies.”
The outburst was immediate.
“I KNEW YOU WERE MAKING FUN OF ME YOU DAMN LIAR! HOW DA-”
Good thing you were prepared for this and stuffed some of yet another towel into his screaming mouth. He bit down on it harshly and glared at you with all his might. Snarls and grumbles still made their way through the cloth, letting you know just how displeased he was. You were a little shocked to find that despite being gagged and despite just being a head that his glare still actually intimidated you. The time spent with the crew treating him like a harmless little pest had helped you forget that, when push came to shove, he could back up his talk with violence.
The brief glimpse of fear in your eyes gave him a twinge of satisfaction but mostly felt a lot more hollow than he’d expected. Wasn’t this what he wanted? 
When you reached back out to continue drying his hair, you were more tentative than he had ever seen you and his mood dropped even further. Even with your caution, the way that you moved the towel over his hair and gently squeezed more water out of it was filled with care. The whole thing felt very foreign to him. Buggy usually rubbed his towel through his hair chaotically like the more forceful he was the sooner he could get done with the bothersome task. You were working over him like any undue force would be an insult. Like he was something precious. That watery feeling started pressing on him again.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” you started quietly. “I just meant to poke fun, not make you actually feel insulted.” After a few more soft pats with the towel, you slowly removed his makeshift gag. He took a moment to wiggle around his jaw and get the dry feeling out of his mouth.
“Yeah, well good job, dumbass,” he bit. You winced at the hurt in his tone. “Just finish up.”
You took a moment to recenter yourself while you grabbed your comb and brush. This was not how you wanted this to go. One wrong comment had sent this whole interaction spiraling and it made you sad. Sensitivity like that was usually built up from years of feeling the same hurts over and over again, and you didn’t ever want to be someone to aggravate an already festering wound, especially not on someone who you genuinely enjoyed. Not on someone who you were increasingly craving affection from. This needed to be fixed. Steeling yourself for the resistance you were about to meet, you began combing the ends of his hair and spoke, “The blue color is so pretty.”
He ignored you. As expected.
“It was one of the first things I noticed about you.” He still wouldn’t even glance up at you. “Also how it brings out the color of your eyes.”
He snorted dismissively in a way that very clearly told you he wasn’t believing a word you said. Also expected. You’re just going to have to soldier on until this eventually worked… maybe worked… hopefully worked?
Just as in the rest of the process, you were slow and thorough when combing his hair. You murmured compliments to him about how soft it is; how thick and how beautiful. By the time that you had switched to using your brush, he was showing signs of being worn down by your flattery. His face was more relaxed and he let himself look around instead of trying to burn a hole through the floor. All you could focus on, though, was how downcast and tired his eyes looked.
“Alright, I’m all finished up,” you told him. “I’m going to put you in the hammock for a minute while I get ready for bed.”
After placing him in the middle of your bedding, you disappeared behind a dressing screen. The routine of bathing  yourself with a washcloth and bowl of soapy water eased you. Since you had taken so much time tending to Buggy, the last bowl of fresh water had become lukewarm. Despite this, the final wipe down had you feeling refreshed and ready to jump into bed. It was no soak in the tub, but still left you feeling much better after a long day of helping work around the ship.
You had set about your routine briskly so that you didn’t leave Buggy waiting too long. Little did you know, he didn’t mind the time of having nothing to do besides enjoy the soft blankets you curled up in every night. He was trying to soak it in before you inevitably put him back down on the floor. If the night had taught him anything, you’d at least put him on one of those fluffy towels instead of throwing him back in the bag like the others did.
You came over to him on the hammock and he admired how you looked, now clean and fresh in a modest slip. When you picked him back up, your face and body language were as placid as he had ever seen them and he was surprised at how content that made him feel. He readied himself to be moved away, left cold and forgotten, but he was astonished when you plopped yourself in your bedding instead with him still in your hands. The shock must have shown on his face because you giggled at him and gave him a bright smile. Even with the bumpy road that the night had been, your smile made him soft and content. He was realizing with more and more resignation that your smile and laugh would let you get away with anything when it came to him.
“So no floor? Trying to bribe me with favors?” His voice was mostly back to that sarcastic lilt you’ve come to adore.
Content that he was feeling better, you answered, “Nah, just using you so I can have a teddy bear. Haven’t had a good one in ages.”
Making good on that promise, you made sure that he was securely nestled into your neck and shoulder. You used both of your arms to cradle him there and both hands to continue your worship of his hair. It was just barely damp and the coolness felt nice on your hands, especially in contrast to the cozy heat emanating from his head. His long eyelashes tickled at your neck every time he blinked, just like the light scruff on his jaw teased at your chest. His big nose felt cozy rested on your clavicle, and you had to resist the urge to reach down and trail your fingers on it. A giddy and victorious feeling flushed through you when you felt him close his eyes a final time and sink into your embrace.
Buggy should have known that he was doomed from the start. He was having a hell of a time trying not to moan at your fingers scratching and massaging his scalp, both during the hair care and now, when he was held in your arms. He couldn’t stop his little movements to nestle into you and get just that much more of your warmth and touch. If he thought that he loved the smell of you before, he was absolutely intoxicated now that he knew what it was like when it floated over the two of you while wrapped in body-warmed sheets.
He wanted to ask you why you were doing all of this, but he didn’t want to know the answer. Not right now. Right now he was going to let himself go back into that place in his head where you lo- cared about him. A place where each night he would crawl into bed with you and, no matter how the day went, you would be there to empty his mind of anything but the two of you. You’d greet him with a kiss or a laugh or an embrace and you would shine with so much joy because he’s next to you again. He’d know what your love felt like, how your body felt under his hands, how your skin felt under his lips. All these daydreams swirling in his head started to make him sick with want, and he needed to know at least one of them. He couldn’t handle all of them staying forever in his mind.
The tiniest increase of pressure from his lips brought your attention to where they rested below your collarbone. The almost kiss was so heartbreakingly shaky and hesitant that you felt your eyes burn with the threat of tears. To reassure him, you dragged your cheek across his temple before turning to leave a deliberate kiss there. Buggy relished the contact, the satisfied sigh you let out afterward, and the gentle weight of your cheek as you snuggled back into him. Your reward came in the form of a grinning cheek pushing into you.
All his humor and posturing certainly caught your attention in the best way and even his explosive temper was something you couldn’t say turned you away. This gentleness, though, this uncertain and wounded place, had you bursting with affection and you were hoping to keep experiencing it. You’d meet it each time with steady affection until it turned into something he embodied with the same surety that he had in his beloved spotlight.
Both of you slipped more sweetly into dreams, curled up together as you were, and with more peace and ease than the years before had allowed. Neither of you would let the years to come be absent of this sweet treasure, either.
Next->
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puranami · 6 months
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✿ It's The Little Things - 2 ✿
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A/N: Wow, the first post went far better than I ever expected, especially considering I have no idea what I'm doing ᕕ(✿ᐛ )ᕗ It was a lot of fun though, so I'm back for round 2!
Summary: More little relationship things with other characters that are in both the anime/manga, and the live action~
Characters: Buggy, Shanks, Mihawk
Content: SFW, G/N reader, fluff with added fluff on top ✿
(Part 1 - Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Sanji) (Part 3 - Franky, Robin, Law, Kid, Killer) (Part 4 - Crocodile, Rosinante/ Corazon, Doflamingo)
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Buggy
✿ Naturally there is never a dull moment with a man as flashy and bombastic as Buggy, but that doesn't mean there are no calm moments. The start of your day is relatively mellow compared to the rest of it. Bugs will cling to you for as long as he can get away with before you both have to get up. During your morning routine you are practically on top of each other, but it is so natural and well coordinated, that you never collide or get in each others way. All the while, he'll be cracking jokes, and putting his hands on your "assets," followed by a cheeky wink, and infectious giggles. He loves when you match his shenanigans, and will overact his reactions, as if he wasn't just doing the exact same thing to you; "Well, I never-" - "You literally just grabbed my-" - "Never," to which you'll laugh and gently slap his arm while he sticks his tongue out at you.
✿ He's a materialistic guy, so he gives you lots of gifts, from the extravagant to the sentimental. It's the easiest way for him to show you how much you mean to him. Giving him gifts in return makes him melt; he isn't just buying your love, you are speaking his love language! As a pirate it's always been him taking what he wants, so to be freely given those things speaks volumes. Even more valuable than the things he wants are the things you have made for him. To know you have put time, energy, and love into making something special and unique means so much to him! He will cry because he is so moved, just hold him and stroke his hair while he has his moment.
✿ To be with Buggy means you have willingly lowered every single one of your barriers; you are an open book, completely honest about what you think and how you feel. He is insecure, so he needs to see that you trust him implicitly in order to return that trust. As a part of this openness, your personal bubble no longer exists, you have a couple bubble now. That doesn't mean you can't have space though! On the contrary, the mutual trust you've cultivated means you can say, "Hey, I just need some time to myself," and he knows that you aren't angry, or upset with him, because you would have told him as much. When you come back he welcomes you with a cheesy pickup line or wise crack as he pulls you right back into that shared bubble. It took a lot of faith at the start, which wasn't easy for him, and it takes consistent hard work to maintain this level of trust and honesty, and it is so worth it.
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Shanks
✿ This man cannot keep his hand to himself! When you're walking together he'll have his hand on the small of your back, or his arm around your shoulder. More often than not he is holding your hand, fingers laced together, with him brushing your thumb with the rough, calloused skin of his own. In his mind, the closer you are to him, the safer you are. He's one of the strongest men in all the seas, so being in the same space means no one can touch you, just as they can't touch him, but you'd never know it. To you, he's just like a big puppy, needing to be in your presence, smothering you in affection. He likes to lean his head on top of yours, similar to how a dog will lean their head on your lap, all while wrapping his arm around your waist so you can't wander off. He can be a little possessive, honestly, but he means well.
✿ He will listen to you talk his ear off for hours on end about literally anything. From philosophical musings, to colour theory, to the many uses of vinegar - it doesn't matter the subject, he just loves to hear your voice, and to see how passionate you are. Shanks won't just smile and nod, giving the odd confirming "uh huh," while not really listening either; he gets really invested! Your passion is contagious, and you make even the most mundane things interesting. It's also good to know what interests you, as it makes gift ideas easier. Whenever he sees something related to a topic you've talked to him about he will get it for you. The main thing with all of this is the quality time he gets to spend with you; outside of drinking and merriment, it's one of his favourite ways to relax.
✿ Shanks loves playing little pranks on you. He never goes too far though, as it's important that you are laughing alongside him and the crew. It makes him so happy when you start pulling your own pranks on him. It is very hard to surprise him, but easy to confuse him. You know those pranks where people hide numerous things everywhere? Lets just say he is still finding little gnomes around the Red Force. The rest of the crew is in on it, pretending not to see them, and will deny any knowledge of them, and the longer it goes on, the funnier he finds it when he spots another - you hid them in the such obscure places! He's kept every single one of them, and they have a designated chest, but he'll keep his favourites on his desk.
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Mihawk
✿ Everything about Mihawk is subtle, and purposeful, and that extends to relationships. To outside observers he appears cold and distant, like he is barely tolerating your presence at his side, but you are so familiar with his subtleties that you can see just how much he adores you. Each ghost of a touch and fraction of a smile are a declaration of love that only you can understand. He is much more open with his affections when you are alone, where you are safest - not to say you are unsafe out with him, nothing could be further from the truth, he just won't do anything that puts a potential target on your back, exposing you as his achilles heel.
✿ He is a classic romantic! Mihawk is courting you, not dating you. At the start of the courtship he will wine and dine you, lead you with an arm behind you that never makes contact, and the only time he will touch you is to leave a faint kiss on your hand after escorting you home. There will also be large periods of time between meetings where he will send many unsigned love letters until he can return to you. You know exactly who they are from, Mihawk just wants to avoid you being linked to him, especially when he isn't there to protect you.
✿ Once you are fully committed to one another, he moves you to his home where you are safe, and when he is there, he is so domestic that you often forget you are with a (former) warlord. You will tend to the garden together, harvest what you need, and cook together, though he'd prefer to do all the cooking for you. In all honesty, as long as you are there to keep him company, he'd be happy to do everything for you, but he won't fight it if you insist on doing things for him, or ideally together instead; "We'll get things done quicker together, and then we can relax with a bottle of wine and a good book." - "Very well." There is nothing he loves more than sitting with you on the settee with a comfy blanket after a long day of training and daily chores.
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