༒ 𝔍𝔞𝔪𝔦𝔩 𝔙, 𝔎𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔪 𝔄.
༒ A/N : this is a continuation of this post here! I would recommend reading it first bcs it is mentioned of what happened previously, but it’s totally fine if you don’t bcs it’s not that important. I honestly didn’t even know I was going to write apart two but since people wanted it, here it is!
༒Word count: 3k.
༒Content warning: Fem! Reader , ooc character’s? (I haven’t played the game in awhile..) , Jamil being like.. really sadistic, corruption , unprotected sex , oral (male receiving) , mating press? (She gets folded) , lots of degrading (use of slut , being told how much you enjoy being used) , orgasm denial , pussy slapping , reader is very masochistic , let me know if I missed anything!!
Standing outside of Jamil’s and his girlfriend’s shared dorm room in the dead middle of night is not somewhere Kalim thought he’d be at again, especially not so soon after yesterday’s “lesson” took place.
Shakily taking a deep breath and trying to ignore the burning hot heat on his face, the sweat practically dripping down his shaking palms, and the raging hard-on in his pants, he raised his shaking fist to knock on the cold wood of the door.
Shakily taking a deep breath and trying to ignore the burning hot heat on his face, the sweat practically dripping down his shaking palms, and the raging hard-on in his pants, he raised his shaking fist to knock on the cold wood of the door.
As his fist was about to hit the hardwood of the door, the handle turned and swung open, revealing Jamil, who looked just as smug as ever. “Finally on time for once, huh?” He said, smirking as he opened the door wider to let kalim see what he had been awaiting. Walking in the dimly lit room, illuminated by the moonlight, he saw you sitting on the edge of the bed shyly playing with the soft pink lace that decorated your chest cutely.
He heard the sound of the door closing behind him, followed by footsteps trailing behind him. “Pretty isn’t she? Since she wanted to dress up like such a slut for you, I’ll give you the honor of getting to undress her.” The condescending undertone of his words go unnoticed by kalim as he could only focus on the words “she wanted to dress up like a slut for you.” For him. He felt a rush of pride at the thought of having you wanting to look pretty for his eyes. Those thoughts gave him a boost in confidence as he walked towards you with more of a stride in his step.
Now standing in front of you, Kalim could feel the unwavering gaze Jamil had on him, as he watched his every move closely. He stood back with his arms crossed ready to watch the scene unfold before him.
Letting out another shaky breath as his desire to touch you grew, he looked into your eyes to get a sign of confirmation to touch you. You noticed and subtly nodded your head, giving him permission to touch you. He slowly moves his hands to the band of your panties, noticing the intricate details and the cute bow on the center he couldn’t help but mutter out a soft “…cute” to himself. As he slid the soft cotton material down your plush thighs, he admired how pretty your cunt looked in the dimly lit room, just as pretty as last night’s “session.” He couldn’t be more excited to see what else he was going to be learning about tonight. Finally sliding your panties to your ankles, he took them off and gently held them, unsure of what to do.
“You can keep them since you seem to like them so much.” Jamil said with an unamused tone in his voice. Kalim couldn’t believe it. First you wore something so pretty just for him, now you're letting him take something as precious to you as your underwear? It was like you were trying to purposefully make him want to use your body with these actions.
As he went to stuff your panties into his pockets, you unhooked your bra and threw it into the corner of the room, revealing your perky nipples to both men. You sat Back shyly, once you were done removing your article of clothing, placing your hands in your lap, fidgeting with your fingers until you were brought back out of your daze by Jamil’s harsh tone.
“You’re not going to just leave our guest here to do everything himself are you? And here I thought I had actually taught you some manners. Figured a slut like you would forget so soon, the only thing on your mind is probably you getting filled.” Jamil said with a faux disappointed look on his face, but his eyes told you a different story, and along with his mean words, you knew he was far from disappointed, in fact, this was the most amusing thing he was witnessing. Figuring out what he meant, you felt more heat rush to your cheeks as you refused to look up, wanting to not make eye contact from the embarrassment you felt. But nevertheless, you still wanted to comply, not wanting to disappoint Jamil even further.
You brought your hands up to the visible tent in his pants, then you undid the buttons before sliding them down his thighs. You brought your hands back up once more to the band of his boxers. As you were doing this, Kalim slowly lifted his shirt off and threw it off to the side. You took a shaky breath before slowly sliding his band down, his hard cock sprung up immediately, slapping this stomach. The pre cum on his swollen head was glistening in the pale moonlight room, and with it standing face-to-face in front of you, you couldn't help but lick your lips in anticipation.
He stepped out of his pants, and kicked them to the side, before moving back to where he was previously standing, right in front of your face. Finally after staring for a bit, unaware of your actions, you broke your gaze away from Kalim, as you turned to look back up at Jamil for confirmation on what to do. Jamil narrowed his eyes at your hesitation, “What are you waiting for? You wanted to do this all day so why are you stopping now? Hurry up and get to work. You know stupid sluts get punished. Swallowing the lump in your throat, and turning your attention back to Kalim, you took his length into your mouth.
He hissed at the contact. He had never felt someone’s mouth around his cock like this before. This was actually his first time, and he was not complaining. You had been swirling your tongue on the tip of his cock, and dragging your tongue on the underside of it, before slipping him inside your mouth, taking only halfway as to not try and suffocate yourself. He was thick, thicker than Jamil, and you hadn't been used to this size before, as Jamil happened to have more length, but he was a bit on the slimmer side.
Jamil had other plans for you though, he walked over to both of you before grabbing the back of your head, and forcefully pushing you down Kalim’s dick. You choked and gagged around Kalim at the sudden unexpected push as your eyes snapped open and Kalim stood wide-eyed looking at Jamil, surprised at his sudden actions. “W-what are you doing..? You don’t have to be so rough..” He was so sweet! Caring about how mean Jamil was being to you. He didn’t want you to get hurt.. But little did he know that you enjoyed being treated like that, and you honestly wanted more, especially from him.
Jamil only laughed at his words. “If you knew how much she was begging for this, you’d be saying otherwise.” While continuing to push your head down further onto Kalim’s cock Kalim was still surprised, but he was unable to say more, with the pleasure he was feeling as you continued to choke on his dick. With his tip continuing to hit the back of your head, and you massaging his balls, he felt like he was about to burst at any second, he threw his head back and moaned loudly as he felt so, so close.
Before he could release, Jamil pulled you off forcefully and pushed you back on the bed. Kalim was disappointed by the loss of contact, especially after he was so close, turning to Jamil, to ask why he was met with Jamil with his clothes already discarded and smirking. Kalim was at a loss for words, he was too nervous to look at Jamil, despite what had happened last night, he felt anxious.
With you laying on the bed, Jamil spread your legs wide and stood between them telling Kalim to “pay close attention because this is where our actual lesson starts.” As he roughly thrusted into you. Kalim stood close as he watched Jamil’s mean, merciless thrusts, while you continued to cry out in pleasure. He was actually surprised by how much you seemed to enjoy being used as if you were nothing but a hole, Jamil was practically ignoring you to talk to him, but you really didn’t seem to mind. You were moaning so loudly, and the look on your face was telling enough, with your eyes going hazy already, and you were begging for more. But, Jamil only continued to ignore your cries as he continued on with his “lesson.”
“I’m going to be teaching you the difference between faster, harder and deeper tonight.” He says as he slows down his thrusts for you. “The first one is pretty self explanatory, all you gotta do is go faster, without changing anything else.” He says as he begins to speed up his thrusts while keeping up the same strokes. Your legs had begun to shake at the vigor of his hips hitting yours. Kalim stood back and watched intently, making sure to not keep his eyes off the sight in front of him. He was following along and even making some mental notes in his head, this was the most focused he had ever been on anything.
Turning around to make sure Kalim had paid attention, and had gotten most of what he had said down, Jamil had slowed down his pace once more, and began with his next lesson. “Now we’re going to learn the difference with harder. Now, going harder doesn't necessarily mean going faster, It just means you're going at it with more force. Watch carefully.” He grabbed your legs and folded them back, your knees were on your chest, with his bruising grip on the underside of your knees, as he made sure his thrusts now made you rock, along with the bed that had been moving side to side. The sound of your loud squelching pussy only intensified, as his body moved against yours with such power. He might not have been going very fast, but with the sheer force he had, it was enough to drive you insane.
Before you came close to finishing, he pulled out before anything else could happen, as you whined out at the feeling of being so empty. Kalim was now watching, with his jaw slack, and cock throbbing, He needed to be inside you so badly, and god, your reactions– the noises you were making, everything was driving him mad. But he needed to focus, he had too. So snapping himself out of his own trance, he met eyes with Jamil, who had noticed just how hard he was staring.
“Don’t worry, after this final lesson you’ll have your turn with her, don’t rush things and pay attention because now we’re going to go over one more thing, Okay?” He turned back around to meet your eyes as he continued speaking. “Now, when going deeper, it is similar to going in harder, but you're more focused on the depth you're going, so it means you're going to be rutting in a lot more.” With his final demonstration he pushed his slick covered cock all the way back in harshly, making sure to grind his pelvic bone against you. You moaned at the feeling of being filled even deeper then you had been before. He continued with thrusting into you the same way, but slowly becoming faster, not to the point where he was ramming into you, but enough as to where you could gain more pleasure while him still hitting the parts deeper into you.
You had been on the verge of cumming, squeezing around Jamil so tightly, a tell-tale sign you were teetering on the edge of your high, when he pulled out and slapped your clit. He snickered meanly, as he always did everytime you were close to your release. You were keening and whining on the bed, still not over the feeling of your high being ripped away from you.
Turning to look over at Kalim, he had realized he had forgotten another lesson, something very important. “ Oh! Also another lesson, I almost forgot! Don’t be afraid to put annoying sluts in their place!” Kalim was taken aback by his crude words, and he knew he was in for something as Jamil had an evil glint in his eyes. He moved away from your shaking thighs, with your glistening slick coating your thighs, you had been made into such a pretty mess for Kalim, and he wanted to make you look even more prettier. Kalim took this as his que to finally put the things he had been taught to good use. Before he could even put his tip in though, Jamil had stopped him. “Remember what i said, don’t be afraid to put her in her place. So, spit on it.”
“W-what.. M..me?” Kalim was at a loss for words. He couldn’t do it. That was something so… vulgar, he didn’t think you deserved that, you were too.. Good for that. Well, in his opinion anyways. But, looking at your face, your expression had said otherwise, you were blushing wildly, neither of you had realized but you had been drooling the entire time, with your jaw slack, and pleading for more. You had looked like you actually really had enjoyed that treatment, and who was he to not give you what you wanted? Finally after a few seconds of contemplating whether or not he should do it, he decided on just giving it a shot, if you didn’t want it, you wouldn’t have been here.
He gathered up a bit of saliva in his mouth and decided to just do it. He spat directly on your clit, then he brought his finger up to rub it in, mixing it with your slick as he pushed himself into you. You squealed at the stretch, your cunt clenching around his cock, as it was thicker than Jamil’s, he sheathed himself all the way in, to the hilt, since your cunt was so messy, and because of Jamil’s previous assault. He began to start thrusting slowly, then he picked up his pace, as Jamil did.
“C’mon, how about you show me what going harder means? How bout’ you slap her, watch how she clenches around you like a slut. She likes the pain.” Jamil was whispering all sorts of evil things into Kalim's ears, and almost subconsciously, Kalim complied. He experimentally slapped your thighs, and much to Kalim’s surprise, you moaned at the impact. You had also squeezed around him. It felt.. Pleasant. Your cunt tightening around him made him feel good.. Really good. He wanted to feel it more. It was like that had triggered something feral inside of him. He grabbed the underside of your thighs and lifted them up, bringing them in the same position Jamil had you in, as he began his own assault on your cunt. He pulled his hips away from yours, and pushed back in with force. You knew the walls were most definitely going to have some cracks in the morning from how hard the bed was hitting it.
He continued with his harsh thrusts until Jamil yelled out another command. “Faster!” Kalim immediately picked up on his pace, pulling in and out of you, with little remorse or awareness of how fast he had been going. You were practically bouncing on the bed because of his force. You had been moaning so loudly, and the stickiness and squelching of your pussy became more and more noticable. The stickiness Kalim could feel around you, only making him even more insatiable. He was hypnotized by how his cock was moving in and out of you, with the white ring that formed like a halo on the base of his dick, making it throb harder inside of you. He was almost lost in a trance, if it wasn't for Jamil shouting out yet another command.
“Deeper!” Kalim slowed down with his pace, making you cry out in dismay. But, much to your surprise, he made up for his lack in speed with how deep he managed to hit inside of you. With every thrust, he would grind his pelvis into yours, just enough to make you feel him grind against your clit. You couldn't take it anymore, with all the overwhelming feelings causing you to reach your high very quickly, but that didn't seem to deter Kalim as he stopped trying to reach deeper. He picked up his pace, only aiming to chase after his own high as you clenched around him and started to cream. You were buckling around him, crying out loudly and shaking, with an overwhelming rush Kalim started to feel, his mind went hazy, he couldn’t even think straight!
And with Jamil’s incessant whispering into his ears, telling him to “Give her a slap, C’mon she likes it, you know she does! When you treat her like that, she can only seem to think with her pussy, that’s why she clenches so hard whenever you slap her around like a slut.” Giving into Jamil’s demands, he raised his hand and slapped you across your face meanly, shocking both you and him. He felt you clench around him once again as he came with a shudder and loud moan, releasing his cum deep inside of you.
He pulled out, and turned to look at Jamil who was watching with a proud, evil look on his face. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” and thinking about it for a second, Kalim realized he did in fact enjoy it, he felt a rush on making you get off on him doing that to you. He liked the feeling of you crying, and begging for him to keep going while making you cum. Slowly nodding his head, while averting his eyes away from Jamil, Jamil’s smile only widened at his actions, he felt as if he had finally gotten through to his friend, even if it meant he corrupted him into liking the feeling of inflicting some pain onto others. You could only look at them through half-lidded eyes unaware of what else they had in store for you, as they both found a new common interest, bullying the hell out of your cunt whenever they wanted, as you seemed to like taking it no matter how rough they were being.
1K notes
·
View notes
Taking What's Not Yours (Dracule Mihawk x Reader)
a/n: soooooo, there is this pirate warlooooord. basically, i've watched the live action show on Netflix and immediately had to commit a one shot.
Warnings: Pure Smut (i had to get it out of my system), Wall Donging, Use of Alcohol, Stealing, Plotting, Lollygagging, inappropriate use of that cunty cross necklace.
Summary: A misguided attempt at impressing your friend lands you in a very peculiar situation. (cross-posted on AO3)
The bar buzzed with the energy of drunken people. Your throat still burned with the after-taste of the cheapest rum the establishment had to offer, and for a second you've become deeply worried about losing your eyesight, as faint notes of straight methanol registers in your brain. Then, the pleasant buzz hits your nerves like a suffocating blanket, and in one moment you sense all your troubles drifting away. And there has been quite a lot of troubles on your mind lately.
Mainly, the Marines, their presence an annoying nuisance. By no means were you a pirate, no. You searched for freedom in different ways, such as stealing as much, and as often as you could. Money was the driving force of your life, but you'd be lying, if you said it was the only pleasure you seek. The thrill of the chase, of finding that perfect little trinket you can grab, and your victim would be non the wiser. The euphoria of creating distractions in one place, so you can strike like a viper in another. It made your blood boil with excitement incomparable to anything else.
On top of that, besides the occasional confrontation, the Marines simply couldn't identify you. All it took, was a bandana around the lower half of your face, and suddenly you were able to march into a bar, such as this, filled with Marines, and no one would notice. Your eyes fall onto a rather skinny one, the belt of his too big uniform is digging into his waist, betraying how little there actually is of him. He looks back at you, smiles, and joins a group of his friends at one of the tables. You reciprocate the smile with a glint in your eye. The poor bastard doesn't know it was you, who stole an antique photo of his grandma right from his breast pocket.
In your defense, the small frame was made of gold. And damned pretty at that. It fetched you a pretty price too, one you were currently drinking away, waiting for your friend to join you in your efforts of landing under the table by the end of the night.
You barely manage to go through one fourth of the bottle, when they arrive, smile on their face and hair wild from running through the streets. It all goes downhill from there, as stories and alcohol flow freely between the two of you. It's a welcomed distraction from the gray reality of life, a small ray of sunshine in this murky town. They tell you about the latest heist they've pulled, eyes sparkling in the dim light, as they recount a particularly risky part of their daring escape. You snort into your glass, shake your head.
- See, that's where we're different. - you counter, leaning back into your chair - For me, it's all about stealth. In and out, so they won't know when they've been robbed.
Your friend giggles to themselves. The drink in their glass splashes slightly, as they place it forcefully on the table.
- You really think you're that good, huh? - they challenge, and already, you can feel the tingling sensation of excitement at the tips of your fingers.
- I know so.
They furrow their brows, turning towards the crowd currently hounding the bartender. There's a mischievous smirk playing around on their lips, as they turn their attention back to you.
- So, if I were to choose any person here, and told you to steal from them unnoticed, you'd do it?
The absolute gall of this question. Of course, you would. Hell, you'd do it multiple times, until this whole bar was filled with people suddenly missing their belongings. Because nothing compared to the thrill of reaching into someone else's pocket unnoticed.
- You know what? - your eyes run across the gathered crowd, smirk playing around on your lips, as you've spotted your chosen victim. - See that guy in the black coat? The one with the big ass hat. I bet I can get that fancy necklace off of him, in like, three minutes tops.
As you speak, your friend follows your gaze through the Marines, and the pirates, and all the in-betweens. But when their eyes finally land on your target, they freeze in their spot, before rather rudely grabbing your shirt at the collar. Then, so fast, the world starts to spin in front of your eyes, they yank you under the table. Your stomach lurches with protest at the sudden movement. You give your friend a confused shake of your head.
- Do you have any idea, who you're talking about? - they whisper-yell, eyes wide and clearly terrified.
- What, about the hat guy?
Apparently you've said it too loud, because your friend nearly launches themselves at you.
- That's Dracule fucking Mihawk.
From the way they've said the man's name, you gather, it should be at least familiar to you. Unfortunately, you can't say you know much of the world outside of the town, so your confused expression deepens.
- He's like, the biggest deal - Your friend continues, their grip on your shirt loosening slightly - Like, children read stories about him and shit.
- I didn't - you shrug, before rising slightly up, so you can peek from above the table.
The hat man has turned his back to you, his stature rather impressing, as he towers over everyone in the establishment. Your eyes follow the dark lapels of his coat, thief senses greedily gliding over the handle of his sword secured to his back. It's reminiscent of a cross, with gigantic, shiny gems nearly tempting you to do something unwise. Your friend tugs you back down, and your chin scratches on the rough surface of the table.
- What is he, like, a missionary? - you ask, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.
- What?
- You know, the cross and all that...
- What kind of missionaries have you been seeing?
Fair point, you think, before risking another peek, against your friend's efforts to pull you down.
The man, Mihawk, takes a long swing from a flagon filled with something you can't really identify. You watch almost greedily, as his Adam's apple moves, when he swallows his drink. Then, your eyes drift to the necklace, nestled on his exposed chest. Gold, real gold, you can see it from here. Another cross, albeit, much simpler, than what he had on his back. A week of drinks, and fancy ones at that flash before your eyes.
- Don't even think about it - your friend warns, finally giving up, and letting go of your shirt.
Your eyes stay fixated on your prize. If you could just see where the clasp of the necklace is...
- Think about what...? - your voice betrays you, and you wet your lips with your tongue in concentration.
- He'll kill you - your friend warns - Like, actually kill you. This is not a man you should fuck with.
At that, you finally tear away, your eyes meeting your friends, a sea of mischief swirling in them.
- Who said anything about fucking? - you say with a wink, and before your friend can say anything else, you rise from your seat.
Taking the half-empty bottle of rum in one, smooth movement, you begin to make your way towards the bar, adding a stumble and a drunken giggle for good measure. The previous ungodly ammounts of liquor circulating your body definitely help with the impression, but you're pleasantly surprised, that your head stays relatively clear. Although, if your target is truly as powerful and dangerous, as your friend makes him out to be, then perhaps you really lost your mind for good. Best not to dwell on it though.
The man barely spares you a glance, as you collide with the bar right next to him, arm brushing against his in a deliberate movement. You make sure to press your chest against the countertop, before waving at the bartender a bit too enthusiastically. The leftover liquor in your bottle sloshes out, landing straight onto the man's chest and lap. At that, he finally moves, annoyance clear in his rigid posture. Traces of liquid fall all the way from his collarbones to the belt buckle of his trousers.
The truly magnificent performance of a drunken, apologetic girl you gave at that moment, would ensure you the entry to the most prestigious acting schools. Your eyes widen comically, as you follow the trajectory of your drink. He barely flinches, as his entire front becomes covered in alcohol, but he does react, as soon as you start apologizing, a lot, your voice quivering as if you're about to burst out crying.
Don't look up, you remind yourself, as your body moves closer to his. You pull down the sleeve of your shirt and reach towards him, trying to dry some of the liquor off his skin. For the split second you manage to make contact, your heart nearly jumps out of your chest. He's incredibly warm, his skin pulled taut against prominent muscles. Then, your sleeve reaches the golden necklace.
His arm immediately shoots out, grabbing you by the wrist and nearly shoving you off. It was enough, though. That short moment of contact revealed more than you've bargained for.
- Leave - you truly flinch at the sound of his gravely voice, no acting needed - You've embarrassed yourself quite enough, woman.
Your head nods fervently, hair jumping around your face. He releases your wrist, and you mutter another string of "I'm so sorry, sir". Then, you throw in a sniffle, for good measure, but your treacherous eyes drift upwards, desperate to catch a glimpse of the man's face, as you're only inches from him. Yellow envelops you in an instant, a piercing, unrelenting gaze, which breaks through all your defenses. Your gaze hardens in an instant, challenge rising in your posture like its second nature. One of the man's prominent eyebrows shoot upwards ever so slightly, and you know it's your time to exit the stage.
So you bow your head again and slip past him as quickly, as you physically can. His golden gaze follows you, the feeling of his eyes at the back of your neck makes your shoulders tense. With a stumble, this one not rehearsed, you push past the gathered patrons, until you reach the doors to the restrooms, nearly falling through them, in your haste to remove yourself from this strange situation.
Your body collides with the row of basins, as you lean forward to try and catch your breath. Your heart is thrumming in your chest, the sound of blood rushing through your ears deafening. It's fear, you're aware. You've never been so close to being exposed, no one has ever seen straight through you, and so quickly at that. Chills run the length of your spine with such force you physically cringe.
And then, something else starts to brew in the pit of your stomach. Something that starts at the tips of your fingers, spreading upwards, until it settles in your chest. The magnetic pull of excitement, the danger of a new challenge. Your brain feels hot inside your skull, as you gather all the information you managed to pull out.
The necklace is heavy, but strangely, not as heavy, as solid gold would be. The clasp is sturdy, but small. You could feel it, with how the strap tightened, when you pulled at it. And one more thing. As you tried to "dry" it, the body of the necklace shifted slightly, so you could see the clasp peeking over the man's shoulder. You were almost entirely sure it was one of those old-timey ones. The one, where two halves fit together, incredibly easy to open.
God, you really are going to pull this off. You hype yourself up, in front of the mirror, jumping from leg to leg, like a sportsman ready to fight for their team. Easy. Quiet. In and out. You've done it a thousand times, why would this one be different? After this rather pathetic pep talk, you make up your mind. Splashing some water onto your face, you give yourself one last look in the mirror, determination filling your eyes to the brim.
And then, you're out, the door to the bathroom swings behind you, as you easily blend into the crowd of rowdy patrons. He's almost impossible to miss amongst the ruckus, with his straight posture and that damned hat. There is a plan forming in your head, as you stalk towards him. The unfortunate waiter, with a tray filled with tall beer glasses walks towards you, and with ease, you slide your leg to the side, making him trip right onto the floor.
It creates enough of a distraction for you to smoothly move behind your target, and as he looks over at the screaming crowd, you hand makes its way behind the collar of his coat. With the warmth of his skin just under your fingertips, you touch the clasp of the necklace. It unravels immediately, sliding off of his neck, where, just out of his vision, your other hand waits. The cross lands in your palm just as the man realizes what is happening.
His entire body jerks in your direction, large hands immediately flying towards the gigantic sword on his back. Thankfully, you're faster. Fingers squeeze around the smaller cross, and suddenly all pretense is gone, as you bolt back to the restrooms. You don't stop to check if the man is pursuing you, a flurry of emotions chasing you out of the establishment. Excitement, yes, of course, but mostly impossible to explain fear. In that moment you know, you can't get caught if you want your life to continue.
So, you barrel through the doors to the restroom and immediately jump onto one of the basins. Your hands make quick work opening the small window just below the ceiling, its lock coming undone under the prying of your lockpick. Night air floods the bathroom with the crisp smell of the harbour. Putting all your concentration into athletics, you jump through the small opening, squeezing through. Your shirt catches onto the lock and tears with the force of your body. You land on your face, right into the cobbled street below. Only then do you risk taking the time, and looking around, eyes scanning the dark, as your breath quickens.
Nothing. A dog is barking somewhere, and even from the outside you can hear the sounds of the patrons screaming over each other. For a split second you wonder, if one of the voices belongs to your target, but decide against it. He didn't seem the type to raise his voice. Perhaps that was one of the things, which unsettled you about him.
Tossing the necklace a couple of times in your hand, you observe as the gold shines in the light coming from the lanterns strung out around the city. There, right under the lower half of the cross, you could see a tiny groove. As if it was meant to be unscrewed or something of the sort. Deciding against hanging around in the ark alley right outside the bar, you put the necklace around your neck.
You manage to take about five steps, before some force grabs onto the back of your shirt. A hand twists itself into the torn material, and yanks you back so fast, and so hard, you completely loose balance. The brick wall of the lower part of the bar greets you with sharp pain, the impact knocking the wind out of your lungs. Stars swim in front of your eyes and your stomach twists and turns, as a sudden wave of nausea overcomes you.
Then, all you see is yellow.
He's here, arm pressed right under your chin with unwavering strength, his golden eyes bearing into you, watching you struggle against him. The smell of smoke, seawater and wine engulfs you whole, and suddenly the weight of the stolen necklace on your chest becomes unbearable. It's getting harder and harder to breathe. If you thought you were scared of the strange man before, now you're downright terrified.
- Not many people would dare to steal from me - his voice is steady, almost bored, but your ears pick up on the subtle tone of curiosity - Let alone do so successfully.
Perhaps it's the alcohol in your system, or perhaps your ego has grown much too big, but you almost feel as if the man is impressed.
- Tell me, what is your name? - his arm digs a bit further into your skin before retracting ever so slightly, not enough to choke you, but enough to remind you, that he could do so very easily.
Your tongue darts out to wet you lips, and you will yourself to sound even a fraction less scared than you truly felt.
- I'm nobody - you whisper fervently - I'm nothing. It was a stupid joke, I'm so sorry.
His eyes scan your face, taking in your disheveled hair, the way your eyebrows scrunch together, the way your lips tremble. His gaze slides further down to your panicked pulse running rampant, catching slightly at your heaving chest, before snapping back up. Freezing chills run up and down your body, and your legs kick out slightly, trying to find better footing, to regain some control over the situation. He gives you no such chance, as his arm pushes your neck further into the wall, and as your breath leaves you, your body starts to struggle.
- Nobody. Nothing. And yet you've managed to steal from me - something akin to subdued mirth flashes in his golden irises - If only for a moment.
His other hand rises and your heart stops in your chest, as you feel the tips of his fingers tracing the line of the necklace, from the juncture between your neck and your arm, sliding lower. There is no mistaking the small gasp leaving your lips, when he reaches the heavy cross nestled right on top of your breasts. He taps the goden piece once, twice, before grasping it firmly and giving it a hard yank. The clasp at the back digs painfully into your skin before it gives out, snapping and falling right into his hand.
- You're a curious little thief - his voice lowers, as he inclines his head to look at you closer - For that reason, I'll let you live, this one time. The world needs some chaos, after all.
You expect him to move away, give you space to breathe and disapear into the night. Yet, none of you make a move. Your body stays pinned to the wall, the bricks spreading cold throughout your back. He never retreats, standing firmly in his place, as his arm still presses itself into the crook of your neck. Finally, you risk enough to get a good look at him, from the silky black hair, the perfectly trimmed facial hair and the elegant dip of his collar bones. And, oh, his pupils are dilated. For the first time, you discover a change in his unrelenting gaze.
The gold retracts, giving way to the swallowing blackness of his pupil, as his eyebrows furrow in confusion at the situation at hand. You'd be confused too, if you didn't feel the tell-tale buzzing forming in your guts, low in your stomach. Your tongue darts out again, wetting your lips, and with undeniable satisfaction you watch his gaze flicker downwards.
- Is there something else you want? - his eyes snap back up at the husky tone of your voice, and you give him just a tiny ghost of a smirk.
He recoils immediately, albeit, never taking the arm off of your body.
- I am not some teenage boy who can't control his urges - he sounds almost offended, as he straightens himself, and fixes you with a stern glare.
Too bad. His previous slip-up has already filled your head with devious ideas, which in turn, sparked a sudden flame of confidence. So, with a self-assured smile, you lean back, finally finding your footing, only to raise one of your legs, purposefully running your calf the length of his thigh. His breath hitches ever so slightly, evident more by the movement of his Adam's apple, than any sound. Then, you reach your prize, your knee knocking into something that could only be described as a sizeable erection.
- My research says otherwise, sir. - you counter with a pointed look, and the man before you freezes in his spot.
Time seems to slow down and stretch like taffy, as the man continues to stare at you, thoughts running through his head. Oh, how much you'd give to know them all. Will he kill you, you wonder as your eyes dart around the small creases forming on his forehead. Will he kiss you, his lips are parted and invitingly plush. Will there be more, your eyes follow the lines of muscles exposed under his unbuttoned coat.
At first you don't even notice, when he had taken his arm back. That is until you feel him take a firm grab of the back of your head, gathering the roots of your hair in his grasp. There is no denying the choked whine that escapes you, as he cranes your head back, nor is there a point denying the groan he gives out at your reaction.
An unspoken understanding blooms between the two of you, both of you suddenly knowing exactly how this encounter will end. For your part, you were more than excited, breathing heavily, as your mind became foggy from the feeling of his fingers in your hair. And if his darkened eyes and slight blush dusting the highest points of his cheekbones were any indication, you seemed to have similar effect on the man.
- For all the research you seem to be doing - your brain feels hot and heavy in your skull, as you try to shift your focus onto his words, and not the way his lips curled into something akin of a smirk - There's one thing you didn't bother to check, did you?
All you can do is stare at him blankly. his other hand starts to toy with the necklace, turning it in his palm.
- Have you checked, if my necklace is made of gold? - he asks matter-of-factly, tilting his head to the side.
Your mouth opens and closes, no words coming out, as you continue to stare with growing confusion. Then, a glint of a golden cross catches your attention, as the man moves it higher for you to see.
- Did you check it? - he accentuates his words, and you shiver under his intense gaze.
You shake your head no, and your neck feels as if it's made of lead.
- Use your words, thief.
- No
You don't recognize your voice, so meek and small.
Then, all thoughts leave your head, because he lifts the lover tip of the cross and places it on top of your lower lip, pressing slightly, and watching with fascination as the cold metal creates a small indent in the plush flesh.
- Check it.
Again, your brain seems to be moving in slow motion, but when it catches on, a glint of mischief swirls in your eyes. You open your mouth, let the necklace land on your lower teeth, and then, craning your neck, you bite down, like a good thief that you are.
It's gold alright. Albeit, the part currently between your teeth seems to be hollowed out. Your brows knit for a second, as this new information registers in your mind. So you were right before, the small indent is meant to separate one piece of the necklace from the other.
With a slowly blooming smirk, you let your tongue dart out swirling over the metal. The man's eyes widen ever so slightly, and he pulls back at the necklace. With some fight, you let it go, but not before giving it another lick, this one much more suggestive and pointed.
- You're a devil of a woman - Mihawk breathes, before untangling his other hand from your hair.
Both hands now, he grips the necklace, and your mouth runs dry at the sight of his fingers smearing your saliva onto the metal. And then he pulls. Your heartbeat momentarily quickens, as your eyes register another form of metal glistening in the dim light.
A knife. Small but incredibly sharp, your body starts to shiver but it's not out of fear. He drops the other part of the necklace into his pocket, and gathers the front of your shirt into a tight grip. Your breath hitches, as you feel the tip of the knife slide up under your clothes. It scratches a path from your navel, up to your collarbones, and as the material bunches, the man suddenly yanks the blade upwards. Your entire body jumps from the wall, and your squeak of surprise is accompanied by the loud tearing of your shirt's material.
You fall back against the bricks, and Mihawk leans onto his heels as if he's appreciating an art piece.
- Now we match - you manage to breathe out.
He humms, deep in his chest, and as suddenly as he just tore your clothes off, he dives towards you, open mouth landing right between your breasts.
The moan he wretches from you would be embarrassing if you could only bring yourself to care. But you can't, not when his hot tongue traces patterns all across your stomach, stopping to swirl around each one of your nipples. Like a man starved, he drinks you in, hands pushing and pulling against your hips in a rythmn, that feels more and more like a promise of what's to come.
Your hands flail at your sides, desperate to find any sort of purchase. Fingernails scarpe against the bricked wall, as Mihawk's stubble tickles a path from your collar bones and up your throat, stopping for a moment, to give a few nips to the skin just below your ear. Another whine is wrenched from you, as the man places an open mouthed kiss to the scrape your previous encounter with the surface of the table has left on your skin. Then, finally, he pulls back for just a moment, drinking in the sight of your heaving chest and the redness which has engulfed your entire face.
- Beautiful - he concludes in the same, steady tone, as if he's stating an obvious fact, not paying a compliment.
It works on you all the same, and with a gasp, you lurch forward, your lips forcefully colliding with his. The kiss is deep and filled with passion you're not sure you've ever felt in your entire life. As his mouth and tongue work the insides of yours, you feel him slide his hand from your hips to the front, fingers pulling with urgency at the laces of your breeches. You can only pray, that there's no one taking a midnight stroll through the streets, as another loud moan escapes you. He does his best to swallow it, but something tells you he takes immense pride in the reactions you give him, as his efforts at keeping you quiet are haphazard at best.
Then, after finally winning the battle with your lacing, his hand pushes itself into your undergarments. Your head smacks back against the wall, when he begins to touch you where you need him the most. Expert fingers find your bundle of nerves in an instant, but before you get too carried away, one of your arms encircles his wrist.
Mihawk tilts his head, an unspoken question clear in his golden gaze.
- No time - you pant out, and for a moment worry, he doesn't quite register your words, with the way his focus shifts immediately to your swollen lips - No time, just... Just fuck me, Mihawk.
That seems to reach him just fine, because as soon as the words leave you, his arms shoot out towards his pants. He makes quick work of the massive belt buckle, and with impatient hands yanks his erection out of his underwear. You'd lie, if you said the view didn't worry you just a little bit. But excitement was your drug of choice, and right now you felt as if you could explode at any given moment. With shaky hands, you try to shimmy out of your pants. Seeing your rather clumsy efforts, Mihawk stops you.
With half-lidded eyes you watch him kneel down in front of you, gently pulling your breeches down, before lifting each of your feet, so you could step out of them.
- I think I like seeing you like this - you comment, as he leans forward to kiss the space under your right knee.
- The view from here is also quite spectacular - he counters, kissing up your thigh and making you gasp, as his stubble presses into the mound of flesh just below your stomach.
Still, there is no time, so you reach down towards his shoulder, and pull him up.
- Please - you whisper against his lips, and who is he, to deny a lady in need.
Lifting one of your legs in a tight grip, finally, his hips snap up, filling you to the brim. Your muscles tense, as you try to accommodate his size. To his credit, he stays still, face pressed into the crook of your neck, where you can feel his strained breath. Finally, you let yourself relax. tapping him on the shoulder, to let him know he can continue.
And continue he does, slowly at first, dragging your body from the wall every time he retracts, only to come back in with an agonizing pace. You don't really know who's more frustrated at that point, because as soon, as you try to wriggle your hips more, to force him to pick up the pace, all resolve seems to dissapear. His hand grips your thigh even harder, enough to leave a reminder for the later days. The other tangles itself into your hair, pulling at the strands. And then he truly puts in work, hips snapping in a punishing pace that makes your back scrape against the brick wall. You hide your face in his coat, inhaling his scent and praying that the thick material will be sufficient at muffling your moans of pleasure.
There's pressure, building steadily in your guts, and it doesn't take you long, to feel the band snap somewhere deep inside you. Your muscles tense and your eyes roll back, as you begin to shudder in his grasp, knees giving out completely, so only his own strength is saving you from colliding with the floor. Soon, he follows with a low grunt, nearly toppling over, when his own release hits him.
His arm holds you close to him, as he uses the other one to steady himself against the wall. Both of you are panting heavily, none of you ready to move just yet. You rest your cheek against his chest, and feel him press his face to the top of your head, inhaling your scent as if this wasn't just a quick dalliance in a dark alley.
- You should get back to your friend - Mihawk's voice is muffled by your hair - They must be dreading all the atrocities I could've bestowed upon you.
You laugh breathlessly, finally pushing him back and appreciating the flush on his cheeks, and the way his hair has flown out of place from under that impressive hat.
- Yes, those atrocities have been very great indeed.
***
Your friend sits alone at the same table you've left them. Their head is hidden in their hands, and three empty bottles litter the space before them. It seems they have already started to mourn your untimely death.
The inside of the bar has quieted down, as the closing hours began to loom over the patrons, a few stragglers still hanging around the bar, sowly finishing their respective drinks.
Unceremoniously, you sit down right in front of your friend, wincing ever so slightly at the discomfort still lingering in your muscles, kicking their leg under the table and watching them nearly jump out of their seat with fright.
- You... - their eyes have a difficulty focusing on your face, but when they do, it's like the heavens have opened before them. - You're alive!
Your eyes are glowing, and your face is still blushed from your previous encounter. You lean forward with a brilliant smile, hands slapping onto the wooden table.
- So - you can't help but laugh - About fucking with him...
2K notes
·
View notes