Shinso As A Roommate W Spice 👀

helping out 🌱

when ur a "sweet baby" kinda guy in a "bitch in heat" world

so like yesterday I went to a strawberry farm were you like pick strawberries and I was thinking how would the jjk men act or like what would they do. sorry if it's a dumb question😭

There is absolutely nothing dumb about this, it’s freaking adorable😭😭 thank you for entrusting me with this!! I hope you had lots of fun picking strawberries 🍓 and I hope you enjoy reading about picking strawberries with these silly lil men☺️🫶

Picking Strawberries with the JJK Men

Fluff

JJK men x gn!reader

Warnings: small mentions of bugs/insects

Yuji:

You and Yuji walked along the path, admiring the glow of the red berries surrounding you.

“This one looks really good,” Yuji said, bending over to pick a particularly plump strawberry. He grasped the stem and held it to your lips.

“Try it!” he encouraged, and you happily obliged, taking a big bite.

“That’s seriously delicious,” you complimented after eating the fruit. "Now let me find one for you."

You walked hand in hand with Yuji, scouring the ground until the perfect berry caught your attention. You held the stem while offering the rest to him, just like he had done for you. Yuji, being the menace he is, ate the whole thing in one swift bite.

“Is it yummy?" you asked, anxiously awaiting his reaction.

"It's delicious!" Yuji exclaimed, mouth full of half chewed strawberry. You wanted to be grossed out but the delight in his eyes was too adorable for you to think about how nasty it was that he was talking with his mouth full. He swallowed the fruit with a gulp, then wrapped you in a big bear hug.

"The strawberry was sweet, but you're sweeter."

Megumi:

“I really should’ve thought this through.”

You realized you ran out of hands when you went to pick a strawberry but couldn’t due to your grasp being occupied by both a basket and an umbrella to keep the sun from burning you. You switched gears, putting the basket on the ground and pulling strawberries from your now free hand, but the umbrella kept falling every which way. Megumi, meanwhile, was watching all of this unfold and trying his hardest not to laugh at your predicament.

“Here, let me help you,” he eventually said after watching you struggle for a bit. He was waiting to see if you were going to come up with a solution yourself but it certainly wasn’t happening any time soon and he didn’t want you to get too frustrated (no matter how cute he thinks you look when you’re grumpy). Megumi took the umbrella from your flailing hands and immediately you no longer felt like throwing it in a fit of rage.

“You’re a real lifesaver,” you said, getting an eye roll as a reply.

“That was too painful to keep watching without doing something.”

You narrowed your eyes and stuck your tongue out at him, going back to your berry picking. It was much easier now that Megumi strolled alongside you, one hand in his pocket and the other tightly wrapped around your umbrella, basking you in cool shade. He wouldn’t say it out loud but he was beyond relieved he could assist you, no matter how insignificant of a task.

Yuta:

You and Yuta happily strode along the strawberry bushes, hand in hand, and picking the ripest fruit to bring back home. Being ever the gentleman, Yuta held the heavy basket in his free hand while you were in charge of selecting the berries.

“This is, by far, the cutest date I’ve ever been on,” you confessed, a strawberry dangling by its stem in your grasp.

“O-oh, really? I’m really glad you’re having fun,” Yuta replied, a blush blooming on his face.

“Whats wrong, Yuta? You’re almost as red as this berry,” you teased with a giggle, taking a big bite of the fruit you picked a few seconds ago. That made the poor boy blush even more as he imagined what those plump lips of yours would feel like on his own rather than the strawberry.

“Yuta? Are you in there?” you asked. You had been waving your hand in front of his face but he was too busy staring at you to respond until now as he stuttered out an apology.

“It’s all good,” you told him, “you’re cute when you’re spaced out. My offer still stands if you want a bite of this strawberry though since you were practically gawking at it.”

“Yes! Right. The strawberry,” he stammered, “that’s exactly what I was looking at. You’re so right, it looks really good. Thank you.”

You held out the strawberry in question to feed it to him and Yuta felt his heart leap out of his chest—how did he get so lucky to date someone as sweet as you?

Inumaki:

“Strawberry.”

Your jaw dropped at the surprise introduction of a new word into your boyfriend’s vocabulary. You two decided to go on a date at a strawberry farm but the last thing you expected from today was to see Toge enthusiastically pointing his finger back and forth from you to the berries while repeating the word like some sort of incantation.

“I have a feeling you’re making a really good connection between these things but I don’t understand it,” you said tentatively, taking note of the giddiness that shone in Toge’s purple eyes. He quickly pulled out his phone, furiously typing out something in his notes app. When he showed you his screen, you felt like drowning the earth beneath your feet in tears:

Strawberry!! I can say it without hurting you!! That’s gonna be reserved for you only :)

“Toge,” you half whispered, your voice failing you from the love that was overwhelming you, “that means the world to me. Thank you.”

“Salmon,” he said, meaning “you’re welcome.” He then pulled you into a tight hug to show you how much he cared when words failed him. When you pulled apart, he showed you his phone screen one more time:

Also you’re both very sweet <3

Noritoshi:

It was nice to get away from all the hustle and bustle of your daily duties with your boyfriend Noritoshi. You knew he put a lot of pressure on himself 24/7 to be perfect in all facets of his life so you figured getting away to somewhere quiet and calm would do wonders for his mental health. Thankfully, you were correct. You’d never seen Noritoshi as relaxed as he was amongst the strawberries, softly smiling as he watched a bug climb along a vine. He leaned in closer to get a better view of nature at its core, deeply appreciating the simplicity of the outdoors.

“Y/n, look. It’s a ladybug,” he whispered, not wanting to disturb it. You scooted in closer as well to catch a glimpse but were quickly taken aback when the insect flew off the vine and landed on Noritoshi’s nose. He was extremely calm about the whole ordeal and you were delighted to see such an adorable scene unfold in front of you. His gray eyes were slightly crossed as he watched the ladybug in amusement, its speckled body tickling his smooth skin. As it started heading up his nose and toward his eyes, he put his finger out to block it, guiding the plump bug onto his outstretched digit.

“You know that means you’re going to be blessed with an abundance of luck, right?” you asked, heart instantly melting at the gentle gaze he held you under.

“With you in my life, I already knew I was the luckiest man alive.”

Todo:

You never knew what to expect from your boyfriend on a day to day basis so when he started spouting strawberry facts at you while you explored the grounds of the farm, you couldn’t say you were surprised.

“…strawberries today are a result of the cross between F. chiloensis and F. virginiana. Did you know strawberries are a type of rose? And they have more vitamin C than oranges.”

You listened intently to Aoi’s rambling, his arm slung easily over your shoulder in a display of his affection toward you. You were looking at him like he was speaking about the most important topic in the world and you were so proud of the fact that he was subverting expectations, being extremely strong and smart.

“Wow, Aoi, you’re so knowledgeable!” you exclaimed, “how did you learn all this?”

He just shrugged, shooting you a wink. “I’ll tell you if you let me walk you back home after this.”

You playfully nudged him on the shoulder. “We’re going back to the same place, dummy.”

A look of realization dawned on his face, replacing a concerning amount of shock. “You’re right, we are! I forgot!”

You grimaced, trying not to outwardly groan for the sake of being a patient partner.

“Don’t worry about it, handsome. Let’s just enjoy some strawberries, yeah?”

Aoi let out a triumphant laugh after kissing your cheek. “Sounds good to me!”

Ino:

Going to the strawberry farm with Ino was nothing short of a good time. You spent hours collecting only the finest berries, carting around heavy baskets and dreaming up all types of desserts you’d be making with your haul. You also spent a good chunk of that time eating the berries right off the vine and making each other share in the disgust of any surprisingly unripe berries you pulled.

“Babe! Here, this one’s straight up disgusting,” Ino said, thrusting a strawberry with a big bite chunk out of it your way. You took a bite and immediately made a face.

“Ew! That one was nasty! And to think it looked so good, too,” you whined, glaring at the rest of the deceptive glowing red skin.

“You wanna wash it down with a milkshake? They’re selling them at the front.”

“Please,” you said, nodding eagerly. Ino lazily threw his arm over your shoulder and you scooted in closer to your boyfriend as he guided you to a much needed sweet drink.

Gojo:

Satoru was watching you sit next to a strawberry plant with inquisitive eyes, his signature blindfold gone and in its place were sunglasses that reminded you of his yesteryears.

“I still don’t get why we have to pick the strawberries ourselves when we could’ve just gone to the store,” he questioned, bottom lip jutted in a pout.

“Because Satoru,” you said, giving him a kind smile, “it’s good to support local farms. And don’t you feel a sense of accomplishment picking them yourself rather than grabbing the first plastic container you see at a store?”

“I guess,” he said, reaching down to pick a strawberry off its plant before quickly retracting his hand. “The farmers should’ve cleaned up a bit before I came, though. The bugs and dirt are seriously grossing me out.”

The urge to roll your eyes was strong, but the love you had for Satoru was stronger so you refrained.

“Come over here and try this one. I made sure there weren’t any creepy crawlies on it that were out to get you.”

The white haired man didn’t pick up on your teasing, instead sending a solemn “thanks” your way. His long fingers hesitantly plucked a big, red strawberry from the vine.

“Go ahead, taste it,” you encouraged.

He did so, a look of pride overtaking his features.

“This is literally the best strawberry ever.”

“Wait, don’t eat the whole thing! I wanna try some,” you said. Your boyfriend extended a hand, helping you up from your place in the plants.

“I feel like a strawberry being pulled off the vine,” you joked, wiping the dirt off your pants.

“I really do know how to pick ‘em,” Satoru said, smirking.

Geto:

Suguru was the perfect man to take strawberry picking. He was in awe of the tranquility he felt somewhere like that, the peaceful atmosphere doing more to ground him than most anything he’d tried before. He eagerly picked two strawberries, feeding you one then taking a bite from the other for himself.

“I’m glad you’re here with me,” he said, brown eyes gazing lovingly into your own as the sun shone brightly over the two of you.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, my love,” you replied, your hand gently placed on his cheek. He nuzzled into your touch the slightest bit, not caring if any passerbys took notice of you. He could smell the sweet scent of strawberry on your breath as you closed in toward him, placing a delicate kiss upon his lips. You didn’t want to be indecent in public so you kept it chaste and though Suguru desperately wanted to kiss you passionately enough to make parents cover their children’s eyes (and maybe even their own), he showed restraint. When he eventually pulled away from your kiss, he took hold of your hand that laid on his cheek and placed little kisses on the pads of each finger—also smelling of the red berries you had spent hours hanging around.

Nanami:

When you told Kento you were in the mood to make a strawberry pie, but had no berries, he was quick to come up with the idea to pick fresh ones from the local farm. Now, here you were, baskets in hand, weaving through patches of ripe fruit.

"How's it going, Kento?"

"Well. I have about half a basket full. How about you, my love?"

He never failed to make your heart flutter with his sweet pet names and the syrupy way they fall off his tongue.

"About the same. I'm going to get a few more and then we should be done."

You bent down to gather more strawberries when a gust of wind suddenly picked up, taking your sunhat right from your head. You barely had time to react before it was placed gently back in its rightful place by none other than your boyfriend.

"Oh, Kento, thank you! That's my favorite hat, I would've been so sad if I lost it."

"Then it's a good thing I'd do anything to keep you happy, darling," Kento replied, a soft smile on his lips as he gazed at you like you were the sun and he was a berry plant, relishing in your warmth.

Choso:

Choso couldn’t contain the huge smile that appeared on his face when he saw the strawberry fields for the first time. It reminded him of the bygone era where many were farmers, a time that he and his brothers were born in but never got to experience outside of their glass cases.

“People still farm?” he asked, his voice laced with amazement and his brown eyes glossing over the never ending rows of ripe fruit in front of you.

“Yep! Isn’t so neat how much society has changed over a hundred and fifty years, yet stayed the same?” you questioned, Choso nodding in a quiet bout of deep thought. You grabbed a few baskets and began filling them with berries, working diligently in comfortable silence.

“We should grow a garden,” Choso eventually piped up, taking a bite from a strawberry he couldn’t resist the temptation of.

You felt a smile settle on your own face. “Really? You’d want to do that with me?”

“Of course. I’d much rather go out to my yard than a store for fruits,” he replied, taking a break from berry gathering to look you deeply in your eyes, “and there’s symbolism in the whole thing, too. What’s mine is yours, cultivating life together… it’s all strangely…” He faltered.

“Domestic.”

“Domestic. Exactly.” He reached for your hand and you gladly let him take it, fresh strawberry juice from his fingers leaving a bright red stain on your skin.

Toji:

The sun was beating down on you and you were exhausted after a long day of strawberry picking. Taking a seat on the ground, you felt relief flow through your legs as you gave them a rest.

“You’re getting absolutely filthy,” said Toji, scrunching his face as he looked at you with something akin to disgust. “Get up. You’re not a baby.”

“I’m your baby,” you teased, earning an eye roll from your boyfriend. “Besides, I’m tired and it’s a long walk back to the car. It’s either this or you carry me back.”

With one fell swoop, you were off the ground and in the strong arms of the muscled man.

"You're insufferable, you know that?" Toji grumbled, but he wasn't the least bit upset at having you so close to him.

“I do,” you said, cheekily planting a kiss on his exposed bicep.

The Sovereign Beauty // J. Todd x f!reader

Requested? Yes!

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI, loss of virginity (socially constructed theory ok), swearing, discussions around sex/consent (jason is a consent KING ok)

Summary: You can’t tell if the scene in this romance novel is realistic. When Jason finds out why, he offers to help explain.

A/N: the ending sucks, I struggled a lot writing this tbh. It’s so much harder to write first time situations IMO. I also really wanted to balance realism with sexiness. First times are not uber sexy or perfect, but they also don’t have to suck. Picture not mine, found on google.

Aside from the soft croon of Ella Fitzgerald and the occasional shift of a page turning, the apartment was relatively quiet. Gentle rain battered against the windows of Jason’s apartment and the comforting scent of the Bath and Body Works candle you had forced him to accept one day enveloped the two of you.

The tank of a man was sprawled out on the couch with the edges of a crocheted afghan Cass made was tucked around the both of you. Your feet rested in his lap and he occasionally ran his hand over your calf.

Ever since you started dating Jason Todd, days like this were some of your favorites. He brewed some tea, you set out some pastries you picked up from the bagel under your apartment, and the two of you just spent some time reading. No fancy dates, no expectations, just the two of you relaxing.

Seguir leyendo

✎. . nakamoto yuta ##MESSY ICONS 🎨

like or rb if u save/use

some one piece tributes ~ which character should i do next??

…Do You Want Some Toast?

Fluff

Kento Nanami x gn!reader

When Nanami wakes up and doesn’t feel you by his side, he’s determined to figure out what happened to you.

Warnings: unsettling imagery (blood mention)

Kento Nanami is a peaceful man.

He doesn’t like to fight, he’s never quick to anger. He gets frustrated that his sighs of resignation and irritation often fall on deaf ears, though he’s never all that worked up about anything anyway. He’s a rational thinker and never gets too lost in his imagination before figuring out an answer to a problem.

Usually, that is.

He turned over in bed, in that state between asleep and awake where nothing matters except cuddling with the one you love and falling back into restfulness. That was exactly his plan, his arm reaching over to the spot where you lay faithfully each night, eager to cozy up into your blonde boyfriend’s gentle grasp.

The bed was cold…

Why was the bed cold?

Nanami opened his eyes, his vision adjusting to the dark that encompassed him. He tentatively patted next to him, double checking that you really weren’t there and that he hadn’t just missed your sleeping form in his tiredness. He lied stiffly for a few minutes, listening for sounds of you finally walking back to bed but they never came. His mouth was turned into a frown as he looked at his bedside clock: 3:32 AM. This behavior wasn’t like you. If you had gotten up for a bathroom break or glass of water, you would’ve been back by now. Did you fall? Were you hurt?

As Nanami peeled back the covers, ready to begin searching your shared residence to find you, he stopped abruptly. He heard a loud slam from a room toward the front of the apartment.

Had a burglar, or worse, a curse found its way inside?

Kento wasted no time getting out of bed, opening his wooden nightstand drawer as quietly as possible, grabbing his trademark knife and glasses. As he creeped down the hallway, his mind wouldn’t stop wandering, picturing various grisly situations you might’ve been in like you were in some sort of messed up horror movie. At times, your guys’ lives were like a horror movie, battling terrifying incarnations of cursed energy. Nanami knew it would be easy enough to take down any sorcerer if they weren’t expecting an attack in the middle of the night in their home.

Well, maybe not Gojo, but Nanami really didn’t want to think about that man so early in the morning, if ever.

Nanami took a deep breath and took in his surroundings. He listened for your cries, smelled the air for blood, willed his eyes to scan for shadowy movements.

There was nothing.

And then there was something.

His ears perked up at a strange noise coming from the kitchen. He registered some sort of rhythmic scratching, though he couldn’t fathom what it could possibly be. A curse trying to get in the window? A curse that had already killed you and was now using your fingernails and blood to paint a picture?

There was only one way to find out.

Nanami’s knuckles were ghostly white as he gripped his weapon and walked slowly with one hand trailing the wall next to him, praying his glasses would shield his eyes from the light that was about to flood the kitchen.

“Don’t move!” he yelled out, finding the light switch easily and turning it on to stun his opponent. Thankfully his glasses did help, allowing him to see what type of intruder he was dealing with.

Actually, he didn’t need the light at all—your scream of “Stop right there!” was answer enough.

“Y/n? Are you alright?” he asked earnestly, abandoning his glasses and knife on the countertop when he saw you weren’t dead, barely moving in a pool of your own blood, or whatever other terrible scenario he had thought happened.

Though you hadn’t answered him, Nanami spied you putting down your own knife, apparently ready to strike at whoever was sneaking up on you in the dark. He looked around the kitchen and saw various items sprawled about: butter, a plate, a loaf of bread, and a toaster.

Kento Nanami had never felt dumber.

“…Do you want some toast?” you gestured, offering him a sheepish smile, your cheeks filled with the toast you had just taken a huge bite of. Nanami sighed, running an exasperated hand through his hair.

“You were in here making a snack this entire time? I thought you… I thought someone had come in, or a curse. If you had gotten hurt, I don’t know what I…”

Nanami was a loss for words, visibly in distress, and you felt awful.

“Oh Kento,” you said, rushing over to give him a hug, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to stress you out so bad. I was trying to be quiet so I didn’t wake you up but I accidentally dropped the toaster and then I made the toast too crispy so then buttering it was really loud and then-”

“Don’t apologize,” he cut you off, his brown eyes finding comfort in your own, “I should’ve checked to see if it was you first. My imagination got the best of me tonight and for that, I apologize to you.”

“You have no reason to be sorry either,” you told him, smoothing your hands over his pajama top, “I’m lucky to have such a caring, fearless boyfriend like you. You were more than ready to take down whoever was in here.” You let out a small laugh as your palms rested on his broad chest. “Even though I was about to be on the chopping block, I thought you looked really hot in your attack mode.”

Nanami felt his cheeks warm as a blush made itself evident. He cleared his throat, your flirting flustering him and his sleepy, muddled brain.

“Finish your toast, darling, then come back to bed, okay?”

You stifled a chuckle with another bite of your mid-night meal, giving him the thumbs up.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he said, kissing some crumbs off the corner of your mouth before scooping up his belongings and heading back into the bedroom, ready to cuddle up with the love of his life and put his overactive thoughts to rest.

That night, as he held you close, Nanami dreamt of taking you to the finest bakeries around the world.

I Can Handle It - Law 

Summary: you’re a Straw Hat with Law in Wano. Grumpy dom Law won’t let you on top, makes you regret it when you convince him to let you. 

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Afab!Reader

Genre: smut

CW: dirty talk, unprotected sex (whoops), daddy Law

Word Count: 1,934

———

“Traffy, please.” You caught his gold hoops between your teeth and tugged as he undid the belt around your waist and tossed it aside. 

“No.” Law tried to pull his ear out of your mouth as he pulled open your kimono, pleased to find nothing beneath it but your silken skin. In the dim moonlight shining through the window, he could only just make out the swell of your breasts and color of your nipples, the smooth skin of your stomach and the curve of your hips. 

Perfection, he thought, relieved that captain of yours wasn’t interested in keeping you all to his greedy self. 

“Traffy,” you whined again. You lay on the thin mattress on the floor with the War Lord hovering over you, his hat discarded by the door to the room, your limbs tangled with his more muscular ones the second everyone else went to bed. 

“I said, no.” He lifted a hand and batted your mouth away from his ear, though he missed the warmth as soon as he did. Luckily, you reattached your lips to his thick neck in a second, happily running your tongue over his muscles and tendons, marking up his smooth, tan skin. He was almost embarrassed by how quickly he had grown accustomed to fucking you each night, your lips attached to his neck every time, his mood sour if you skipped a night. 

“I don’t understand why you won’t let me on top.” You pushed on his heavy body, twice the size of yours. You were caged between his arms and legs, his tattooed chest blocking most of the moonlight filtering in through the window. You had tried flipping him over several times, had tried biting him and distracting him and doing all sorts of things to gain the advantage when you two were together, but every time, he just pinned you back beneath him and bottomed out inside you. And you were powerless when he did that, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he worked the tension out of both your bodies. 

“Because.” 

“Because why?” You tried shoving him off of you again, though only half-heartedly. The embarrassing truth was, you’d accept whatever Law gave you. 

Trying to ignore you, he grabbed one of your breasts and squeezed. He kneaded the soft flesh a few times before moving to the other one. It was exactly what he needed, your intimate parts exposed to him. He’d quickly become addicted to the way your body calmed his, the way you relieved his tension like a human stress ball.  

But just as he dipped his head low to trap your perky nipple between his lips, one of his favorite things to do to you, you shifted beneath him. 

“Law.” 

Law gave a heavy sigh. He dropped his head between your breasts, brows furrowed. “It’s been a long day, y/n-ah. Can’t we just-” 

“You never let me on top,” you interrupted. You bit his ear again, this time ignoring the gold hoops and clamping your teeth down directly onto his earlobe. 

“Ugh.” He batted you away again. “All you Straw Hats do is ride rough shod over me. I can’t possibly be expected to also roll over when I’m fucking you.” 

“It’s not like that,” you whined, going for his earlobe once more. “Please, Law, I really want to. I can handle it, I promise. And I won’t bother you for it again. Just this once, let-” 

“Fine.” He pulled off you and fell onto his back, letting out another heavy sigh as he resigned himself to your pleas. “You can ride me.” 

You pulled back from his ear and blinked in surprise. “Really?” 

Law grunted. His heart hammered in his chest, the erection between his legs throbbing painfully. He wasn’t sure why he was so desperate to get off seeing as though you’d been together just the night before, and every night before that for the past two weeks, but he felt as though he hadn’t orgasmed in months. 

“Hurry up already,” he snapped at you, wearing a grimace on his face. 

You didn’t need to be told twice. You climbed on top of him with an eager smile and sat down on his erection, gasping when you felt it push into you. Your eyes almost rolled into the back of your head from that alone, but you managed to stop them from doing so. Law already thought you couldn’t handle being on top, and you didn’t want to prove him right. 

You began kissing his neck while your fingers worked to undo his kimono. You took advantage of your increased access to his body, splaying your hands out over his chest when the garment came off and sliding them down his abdomen, feeling all of the defined muscles on his body. His skin was soft and warm, his tattoos mapping out endless paths for you to trace. 

“I said, hurry up.” 

“Grumpy,” you muttered, moving below his hips. You sank your teeth into your bottom lip at the sight of his cock, thick and hard, veiny with a slight curve in it. You wanted to press a few kisses into his heavy balls before wrapping your lips around the flushed tip of his cock, but you were as eager as Law to get off, so you raised yourself up and aligned the tip with your wet entrance, moaning as soon as his cock brushed against you. 

Bracing one hand on his muscular chest and using the other to guide his cock into you, you slowly sank down. You quivered around him, eyes wide from the stretch. You thought his cock might feel bigger with you on top, but you had never imagined it might feel this much bigger, almost too big to take. 

“You said you could handle it,” Law reminded you, not reaching up to play with your tits like you thought he would but instead putting his hands behind his head and watching you expectantly. It made your cheeks flush with embarrassment. 

“And I can.” 

Though it was almost too much, you began moving up and down, your tits bouncing as you rocked your hips against his. You couldn’t take that last inch, but you took enough of him you thought for sure he would be a panting mess like you were. But when you looked down at him, you saw he wore his poker face, looking up at you with a neutral expression. You gritted your teeth and went a little faster in an attempt to make him break, but to no avail. The Warlord just watched you with a slightly skeptical look in his eyes. 

“Rub your clit.” 

Your eyes widened. “What?” You paused to brush a strand of hair from your sweaty forehead. 

“I said, rub your clit.” He huffed. “You’re really not listening tonight.” 

“I am listening,” you snapped back, “but I’m a little busy right now. Do it yourself.” 

Law raised an eyebrow. “And here I thought you could handle it.” 

“I can handle it!” You made a frustrated sound and began rocking your hips again, this time putting one of your hands between your legs. As soon as your finger touched your clit, your legs shook. You tried to recover quickly, but from the sound Law made- something like a chuckle- you knew he saw you almost collapse on top of him. Gritting your teeth, you continued rubbing your finger over your clit, trying your hardest to swallow your whines and whimpers. 

“This isn’t working,” Law told you, finally pulling his hands from behind his head and placing them on your hips. 

You shuddered at the feel of his warm, calloused palms against your bare skin, feeling the first trace of your orgasm, your body good and ready for you to cum. “It most definitely is.” 

Law pulled your hand away from your clit and trapped it in his. “You’re tiring yourself out too quickly. If I wanted a quickie, I would have pulled you aside while everyone else had dinner and fucked you then.” With those words, putting the scandalous idea into your head, he pushed you even closer to the edge. 

“Traffy.” 

“You know you’re not supposed to call me that,” he scolded, tightening his grip on you. He pulled his legs up so they were no longer straight in front of him, bracing himself with his feet. You felt his muscles coil, and you braced for him to flip you over. But he didn’t. Instead, he began fucked up into you. 

“Oh, fuck.” You keeled over pathetically, bottom lip quivering. 

“See,” Law said, thrusting into you again. “I knew you couldn’t handle it.” 

“Shut up.” 

“And now you’re getting bratty.” 

“I am not getting bratty.” 

“You are.” He continued thrusting into you at a slow but steady pace. “What do you call me, huh? What do you call me?” 

You opened your mouth, but the only thing that fell from your lips was a moan. 

His hand left your hip and came down on your ass with a loud smack. “Say it.” 

“Daddy.” Tears pricked at your eyes. “Daddy, please.” You managed to pick yourself up and look down at him, only in time for him to smack your ass again, this time much, much harder than he did before and set a merciless pace with his thrusts. 

A yelp loud enough to wake your nearby sleeping crews escaped your lips. You clamped your hand over your mouth. You braced the other on his chest, but it wasn’t enough to hold you up as Law pounded into you, and you ended up curled into his chest with your nails tearing into his tattoo. You whined and whimpered, the sounds just barely muffled by your hand.

“I guess I could let you on top more often,” Law grunted. “I didn’t realize you’d fold so easily. Like a rag doll.” He never talked dirty to you, barely even moaning when the two of you were together. The words were sharp and poignant, cutting right through you. 

You clenched around him. “Oh, daddy. Fuck.” You keeled over on top of him, pressing your forehead into his hard chest as your orgasm worked its way through your body, your limbs spasming and your cunt clenching harder around his cock. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You screwed your eyes shut as they rolled into the back of your head. Your fingers twitched against his chest. 

Law didn’t stop. He fucked you dumb, letting out his pent up frustration. He finally reached up and played with your tits like he’d been wanting to do the entire time you were on top of him, twisting your nipples perhaps a little too hard. He could see your bottom lip quivering, could tell you’d never cum so hard on his cock, but he just couldn’t stop, especially not when you kept chanting the same word over and over. 

“Daddy. Daddy. Daddy.” 

He held back his orgasm as long as he could, but it wasn’t too long before the rubber band in his belly snapped and he shot his load deep inside you, emptying his balls with a few uncharacteristically loud grunts. 

You collapsed on top of him, both of your heaving chests pressed together, a sheen of sweat on your skin. You could feel his cum seeping out of you, but you didn’t have it in yourself to care, not with your legs still so weak. 

“Might have to try that again,” Law admitted after a minute, wrapping his arms around you. 

You could only hum in agreement. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

Play Stupid Games, Win Stupid Prizes (2/2)

Masterlist Here, Pollen Masterlist Here

Part 1 Here

Word count: 8,300+

Synopsis: Doflamingo has been sending you gifts of flowers and trinkets over your time apart, but he refuses to acknowledge you in public. Attending a gala held at marine headquarters. He attends with two concubines on his arms, and you arrive with your friend on the arm of a marine. Doflamingo attempts to make you jealous, but you decide to play his little game by using his own methods against him. You invite Sir Crocodile to play this little game with you.

Warnings: Doflamingo x f!reader, Crocodile x f!reader, kissing, yearning, pleading, crying, mentions of prostitution and concubines, NSFW, 18+, Mdni, smut, no sex - Doffy doesn't get the chance, reference to pollen in prior fic, size difference (Doffy is 10’, reader is 5’+), degradation - Doffy receiving, possessive Doffy, yandere Doffy, Doffy is pathetic, swearing, Doflamingo is his own warning, Doffy begs, toxic relationship, Doffy is infatuated, love confession, marriage proposal. ‘Mi amor,’ ‘Mami,’ 'my princess,' 'my queen,' femme titles used for reader, foot play, toe licking.

Notes: Please read the warnings before reading the fic. @ushoppu said they couldn't rest peacefully without a part 2 to the pollen fic. I said give me a couple hours, and unfortunately it took be about four. So much fun to write!

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @sordidmusings @writingmysanity

Looking up into the amber and rose-tinted sunset, you walked arm in arm with the swarve, hat-wearing marine. Your associate and confidant was on his other arm, enjoying the blushy hue his cheeks turned when she whispered scandalous flirtations into his ear. 

After you left the Donquixote palace once providing Doflamingo the kindness of aiding him in his pollen-induced illness, the king of Dressrosa decided it would be far easier to make you want him intimately if he demonstrated what that would look like to you. 

Sending you bouquets of red carnations wrapped in golden twine, ordering lavish garments and jewelry, he would attempt to woo you with his great wealth. The only turn of contention you had was the fact that Doflamingo would do these things for you while otherwise ignoring your presence in mutual spaces. 

Whether it was formal galas, events held in Alabaster, Doflamingo would neglect offering you simple and civilized conversation. Not that you minded, you hated him after all. Your hatred for him ran deeper and deeper the longer you attended the same events. You always attended alone, whereas Doflamingo had a string of concubines interlaced on his arms and singing his praises like little canaries. 

You had grown tired of this new game of contradiction: sending you gifts, only to make heavy eye contact with you while ravishing the women he surrounded himself with. He was attempting to make you jealous, and, unfortunately for the both of you, it was working. 

Partners hence since spending that afternoon in Doflamingo's dining room had not pleased you as they once did. All you could think about while in the arms of another was how Doflamingo’s tongue could reach all of those places within your pussy that this person couldn't. How his cock was so big, it protruded your abdomen with each gentle thrust he rocked into you. 

It wasn't fair. You wanted to continue to hate him, but each time you closed your eyes with a bedmate beneath you, all you saw behind your eyelids were those lengthy blonde eyelashes framing those expressive ruby globes. Those eyes looking up at you as his lips whispered his confessions into you. The soft call of: “mi amor,” his lips pressing against your skin, and his hand wrapping around your body to hold you close with his cock buried deep within you. 

Not fair at all. 

The next time you saw Donquixote Doflamingo was at an open invitation to the warlords and upper ranked marines, all permitted to bring a guest of their choosing to accompany them. Maria, your friend, was Bogard’s guest and she refused to attend without you present as a comfort to her in untested waters. 

Gently lacing your fingers in the dip of his left elbow, you walked down the lengthy red carpet towards the double doors surrounding the party. The gravel road crunched beneath the carpet with every step you took beside the gentleman. 

Only a few minutes ahead of you, Doflamingo had two of his concubines on his arms, all revealing far more flesh than you would deem tasteful. They had a job to do, and it was not in your nature to judge their profession. It was, however, in your nature to judge the tall blonde escorting them on his arms. 

As you turned the corner beneath the canopy towards the final length of red carpet, a hand decorated in a selection of fine rings and jewelry clapped Bogard’s shoulder and prompted him to halt his movements. The three of you turn to glance up at the hulking figure, dressed in a fine suit and gazing down at you. 

“Sir Crocodile,” Bogard nodded, his eyes guarded and his left arm extending with you in his elbow to join his hand over Maria’s, “To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?” Sir Crocodile grinned lazily, his eyes almost displaying mischief behind his eyes. 

“I seem to have forgotten to bring a guest to this soiree, Commander Bogard,” he informed you all, arching his brow up to his forehead, “I thought, considering you have two gorgeous women on your arms, you might be willing to part with this one.” He nodded to you, extending his right hand out towards you. 

Before Bogard had the opportunity to speak for you, Maria squeezed his firm bicep to halt his lips from moving. You grinned, unlacing your hands from Bogard’s arm and placing your left hand within his right. 

“Always a pleasure to see you, Sir Crocodile,” you spoke kindly and gracefully, nodding with a low bow in gratitude to Bogard. He mirrored your action, turning back towards the hall with Maria giving you a small wink in response. 

Crocodile attempted to place you within the crook of his right arm, but you turned away from his grip and softly draped yourself beneath his left and elevated his golden hook with your hands around his elbow. 

“You prefer the left, do you, little dove?” he whispered down with a slow rumbled chuckle in his drawl. You smiled, looking up at him through your decorated eyelashes and batting them playfully. 

“Any opportunity to be in the presence of your majesty is an honor,” you simply brushed his question aside, slowly running your fingers over his golden prosthetic, “Why steal me away from the marine?” He began ushering you towards the doors in an easy step. 

“You deserve to be showcased in your radiancy alone, enjoying the spotlight you deserve,” he whispered, in your ear as he leaned in a deep stoop beside you, “Especially in a dress that fine.” You smile warmly up at him, raking your eyes over his face and give his forearm a gentle squeeze. 

As you made it through the double doors of the marine gala, you felt eyes burn into you from across the room. Without paying the seering gaze any attention, you simply turn to Sir Crocodile and give him a gentle curtsey in gratitude of his gentlemanly chaperone. He smirks in response, pressing his lips to your knuckles before he takes his leave of you. 

Finally alone and unoccupied, you survey the room to locate Maria and Bogard already engaged in conversation with the marine upperclassmen. Not truly sure where to place yourself at this time, you finally make eye contact with the gaze you were avoiding. 

Donquixote Doflamingo’s eyes, although shrouded by his rosy glasses, never left you from the moment you entered the room wearing one of the gowns he had sent you in his array of gifts. He grit his teeth behind his lips and turned up his nose at you. 

Turning to one of his concubines beside him, he began pressing lengthy and tactless kisses over her all-too willing lips. He then turned from that one and brought his attention to the other woman beside him, pressing a kiss to her neck and raking his lengthy tongue up from her chin, up her jaw, to her ear. 

Instead of revealing your disdain for such a lewd act, not revealing the pang in your chest from the display of his attention wandering away from you, you decide to keep your face vacant. Looking him up and down, you simply turn around and wander towards the bar area alone. 

Noticing again your prior chaperone, you spare Doflamingo a final glance through your peripherals before ironing your resolve. You approach him with slow and intentional steps, almost something akin to a stalking dance with the click of your shoes alerting him of your upcoming presence on his left side. 

“Sir Crocodile,” you arch your back while placing your elbows on the bar, and look up at him through your eyelashes, “Would you be up for a little game to pass the time?” He arches his brow up, placing his cigar in his teeth before breathing in a gulping lungfull of sour smoke.

“Up to no good again are you, little dove?” He asked, the cool rumble of his voice shaking your spine in joyful anticipation. You nodded, subtle enough not to draw attention away from Doflamingo as he continued consuming his concubines’ mouths vigorously. “State your terms,” Sir Crocodile asked with a light purr.

“An exchange, sir,” you cocked your head, playfully biting your lip as you hummed at him, “I’ll buy you a glass of anything you want, if you would grant me a single kiss here and now.” Sir Crocodile’s interest peaked, his eyes widening ever so slightly as you continued your suggestion. 

“I admit to you, the King of Dressrosa has had me in his sights for some time,” Sir Crocodile listens to your confession as you utter it in a low whisper. “He is attempting to make me jealous,” you noted, prompting Crocodile to look at him from the corner of his eye, “And I simply do not care.” 

Crocodile hummed in thought, enjoying another deep drag from his cigar, nodding at you to resume your explanation. 

“I don’t want him, and I need him to know I don’t want him,” you confessed as Crocodile placed his cigar in the steel tray beside him, “I would rather chew glass than endure his attention a moment longer, so I thought perhaps if I were to enjoy the attention of another,” you drew up your index and middle fingers on the bar, playfully walking the digits atop the mahogany surface, “He might leave me in peace.” 

“And I was the easier mark to make between all those here present?” Sir Crocodile hunched down to your level, looking deeply into your eyes with his stalking orbs, “My offer as an earlier chaperone had you choose me as your target?”

“Not at all, sir,” you smirked, eyes darting between his with flirtatious mischief, “I chose you because I thought, one: Sir Crocodile would likely need something interesting to cure his boredom amongst the marines and fellow warlords,” you inched your fingers ever closer to his golden hook, looking down at it while you hovered your fingertips over the metallic surface, “And, two: Sir Crocodile is the most handsome man in this room, and it would be an absolute delight to hold his attention, even if naught for a moment.” 

A slow chuckle emitted from deep within his throat, his eyes falling half-lidded as his smile grew wider and more playful beneath his scarred cheeks. 

“A single drink for a single kiss,” he confirmed with a curt nod, his right hand collecting yours from atop his hook and pressing a gentle kiss on your knuckles, “Or a bottle of my choosing, and you would be more than welcome to continue singing my praises atop my knee for the night, Princess.” 

You snuck a look at Doflamingo. Although his eyes were shrouded by his rosy glasses, you witnessed him glaring at the man beside you intensely. Allowing a soft giggle to rise in your chest, you dart your eyes down to the lips of Sir Crocodile before returning to his eyes. 

“Please,” you uttered quietly. Your whispered plea had Crocodile's breath hitch in his throat, his jaw falling slightly slack and eyes glazing over briefly. 

Crocodile released your hand, gesturing to the barkeep for a bottle of scotch from the highest shelf before darting his hand into the side pocket of his pants leg. Withdrawing a clip of Berry, he paid the barkeep and gestured for you to pick up the twin glasses beside the scotch bottle. 

You shot him a puzzled look, prompting him to lean over your shoulder in slow and intentional movements. His lips grazed the outer shell of your ear, drawing up your grin as he uttered, “It'd look far better for me to purchase the bottle to Doflamingo’s wandering eye. Make it seem like it's all my idea. Now, react as if I've said the most scandalous thing you'd ever heard.” 

“I'll repay you when I'm on your knee, Sir Crocodile. I'll slip my Berry into your pockets,” you sigh in response, your eyes fluttering shut as you feign responding to an illusionary, sultry remark, “And why don't you just tell me a scandalous thing instead?” 

He chuckled at your comment, pulling away from your shoulder and offering his left arm to you. You placed your right arm within the crook of his left elbow, his hook brushing lightly against your breast as he led you away from the bar. Twin smiles of mischief were painted on your lips, both teetering on the edge of small snickers as Crocodile sat on the plush, studded arm-chair in the corner of the room. 

Placing down the bottle of scotch, you followed suit and placed beside the bottle the two short glasses to contain it. Crocodile tapped his left thigh with his right hand, a smirk tugging up at the corners of his lips in anticipation of what you would do in response. Hastily tucking a folded wad of Berry into your hands, you began your little show of how much you truly did not care about Donquixote Doflamingo’s unwarranted attention. 

Making a show of it, you traced the outside of both of his thighs with your fingers as you stooped in front of him. You arched your back, giving Doflamingo a clear view of your ass to distract him from you placing a wad of Berry within sir Crocodile’s pant pocket. After tucking in the notes, you roamed your hands over his waist and up to his shoulders as you sat on Sir Crocodile’s left knee. 

His left arm hung over your hip. The steely tip of his golden hook tracing dangerous circles over your thigh, threatening to split the fabric of your dress in one fell swipe. You hooked your left leg over your right, reaching towards the table and filling the two glasses of the amber fluid before offering one to Sir Crocodile. 

Taking his glass from you, you both dipped your rims against one anothers, eliciting a soft ‘clink,’ in response. Smirking, you elevated your glass to your lips, Crocodile doing the same, and tasted the bitter burn of smoked scotch over your tongue. You leant forward, placing down the glass atop the table as before. 

Instead of rising to sit upright on the table once more, you traced the angular jaw of Sir Crocodile with your index finger. Eyeing you cautiously, he sat further back in his seat to make himself more comfortable. 

“How far are you willing to go to play this game, Sir Crocodile?” you asked him, your thumb and index finger gently pinching his chin. He smiled at you, brow arched as he looked through his dark eyelashes up at you. 

“You paid me like a whore,” He chuckled in a low rumble, his eyes darting down to his pants pocket and back up to yours, “I would almost suggest that gives you the right to treat me like one.” You scrunch your nose and attempt to bite back your giggle to absolutely no avail. 

The laugh shook your body as you lean further down into his chest. He chuckled at your response, reaching behind you to place down his short-glass on the table before placing that hand on your midsection at the base of your ribcage. He tugged you into his chest further, his hook scratching at your thigh, as he waited for your lips to descend atop his. 

“Kiss me,” you whispered to him, hovering your lips over his.

“Would look far better if you kissed me,” he whispered in return, a lopsided smile beckoning you in with a playful taunt “Go on, little dove. Romance me.” 

Cocking your head softly at his challenge, your smile only grew ever wider in response. You placed your right hand at the base of his neck, weaving your fingers into his hair and tilting his chin up with your left. Pressing your lips against his gently, you began coaxing him to open up to your teasing ministrations. 

Playfully nipping his lower lip, you traced your left hand over his jaw and down to perch on his shoulder. His thumb flicked over your ribcage, carefully holding you flush against his chest. His hook collected your dress at the hemline, playfully raising it higher as your kisses turned more daring. 

Where Doflamingo differed with openly ravishing his concubines’ faces, you were gentle with your own. Always gentle and intentional with your lips collecting Sir Crocodile's beneath your own. He was a willing recipient, truly enjoying the embrace with a soft hum through his nose, as opposed to someone behaving as if they were there only for Berry. 

Where the situations truly differed in your scandalous kisses and Doflamingo's was the fact that his concubines had naught but the name they went by for the evening. Your partner was Sir Crocodile: the lord of Alabaster, and a man of high reputation and power. You were the one on his lap, a woman with a high profile and not a scratch on your history. 

Your fingertips massaged his scalp as you switched angles, parting your lips to gently brush your tongue against his. A soft moan fled from his mouth to yours, his brows furrowed and his eyes lay closed in bliss.  As your sweetness began to chip away at his resolve to not overtake your domination and replace it with his own, you traced more massaging circles against his scalp. 

Finally pulling away from his lips, your left hand rose from its position on his shoulder and cupped his jaw. His eyes remained closed, only fluttering partially half-lidded when you traced his bottom lip with your thumb. 

“More scotch, Sir Crocodile?” you hummed at him, withdrawing your right hand from his scalp and cupping his left shoulder. You brushed your nose against his, circling it before pressing a chaste kiss against his lips, that he reciprocated immediately. The soft kiss ended as soon as it began, both of you, all smiles, as the mischief returned between you. 

“Do you kiss all your whores like this?” he asked you in a breathy whisper, “And yes. Please.” 

“Unlike many here present,” you smiled, withdrawing from the embrace and reaching over towards your twin glasses, “I don't keep the company of whores often, nor am I one myself. But you?” you claimed the glasses from the table. 

He awaited your continued songs of his praises, watching every move you made with keen interest. Sneaking a hasty look at Doflamingo only seemed to draw his smile up further. Soothing soft circles on your back had his smile purr through his lips, and a soft growl protruding from Doflamingo's clenched teeth.

“You make a very grand choice of a whore to keep. A high end whore.” Crocodile released your back from his embrace, looking up into your eyes once more. “A wonderful companion for the evening, your lips and kisses are simply a bonus.” Returning with the drinks from your stoop, the slightly revealed flesh beneath Crocodile’s hook was enough to elevate Doflamingo's pulse to an alarming rate. 

Wordlessly, you raised your glasses up to your lips and sipped at the contents. He unhooked his golden limb from your dress, smoothing it against your thigh with the flattened underside and trailed it back up to circle your hip. 

“I am glad you think so highly of me, my princess,” he praised you, his hook caressing your hip, “It is an interesting experience, being on the receiving end of ‘time’ for Berry; especially with the added intrigue at snubbing the king of Dressrosa.”

“I'm glad you're a willing participant, my cunning and handsome crocodile,” you released your right hand from his shoulder, collecting his chin beneath it, “Your company and attention has also been a highlight for me.”

Donquixote Doflamingo stood transfixed on the sight that just occurred. He had not spoken, had not groped at the women at his sides, nor had he made any wordless threats towards his subordinates from the moment he saw you link arms with Sir Crocodile. 

An unfamiliar emotion swirled in the pit of his stomach, drawing up to cage his lungs in steel claws. He knew rage and anger, and was accustomed to experiencing rage and anger from early childhood. But this emotion was something that advanced the spectrum of rage and anger, becoming something else entirely. 

He was drawn back to a moment from his past; his brother playing with a soft toy rabbit with long, droopy ears. Doflamingo decided the rabbit would look better in his hands, snatching the velveteen material away from Rosinante. As Rosinante begged for its safe return to him, Doflamingo, instead, tore the rabbit in half. 

His rationale was, ‘If I can't play with it, no one can.’ The longer he saw your smile draw up on your cheeks, your hands playing with the cravatte attached to Sir Crocodile’s neck, or trailing down his chest as he looked up at you with adoration, the longer he felt this rage fester inside of him. 

But rage, he was familiar with. This rage entwined its claws with a sorrow he had not known it's equal. His body was screaming in violent fury, while sobbing in silent yearning. He wanted you out of the jaws of the Crocodile, and shrouded beneath his wings at his side. 

He wants you to stop touching Crocodile like that. He wants you to stop laughing with Crocodile like that. He wants you to stop smiling that beautiful smile, whispering those witty retorts, and arching your back to give Crocodile a glimpse of your perfect body, he loved, like that. 

Doflamingo paused, his head cocking to the side as he scrunched his eyes and clenched his teeth hard enough to nearly shatter them.

He had already made a declaration of love to you, and you had even allowed him a kiss after ravishing your body under the effects of the pollen. He wanted you so badly, so desperately. Why wouldn't you just see reason and give into him? And why weren't you jealous of the two women at his side?

Jealous. That was the word swirling in his brain and clouding his mind. He wanted you to be jealous, but instead of gathering the proper reaction from you: you fled into the arms of another. 

And he was jealous. He was jealous of the time you were sharing with Sir Crocodile, instead of him. 

The jealousy only grew as you appeared to be truly enjoying being on the receiving end of doting from the older gentleman. It should've been him, you on his lap and singing his praises. His regrets at past treatment of you only forging more resentment towards Sir Crocodile, a man he truly respected. 

Meanwhile, Sir Crocodile recounted a tale of his youth, informing you of the cultural differences between Alabaster and your own, informed you of a variety of dishes he was fond of, and asked you a variety of questions to recount your own life. Truely, you praised yourself for choosing him as your mark. He was a delightful conversation partner. 

“All of this aside, you must tell me what is going on with you and Doflamingo?” his voice darkened and lowered in his usual tone, “He has not looked away from you the moment we entered the room together. Even now, his glasses are focussed on you atop my knee, my princess.”

You sighed, pouring another two rounds of scotch and handing it to Sir Crocodile. He raised his brows, waiting for a response from you while you remained silent. He grumbled in light frustration, prompting you again. 

“Have you slept with him?” he asked, you snap your eyes over and look down your nose at him in response. His brow arched higher, a slight sneer pulling at his lips. 

“Yes,” you hissed your confession with a snarl, mostly at recounting the moment together between you and Doflamingo in his lavish dining room. Sir Crocodile had his interest peaked for a second time, leaning forward and darting his eyes between yours. 

“And how was it?” you snapped your head down at him, forcing your brows to furrow deeper with a soft pout on your lips. Taking a deep breath in, you began your harsh whisper. 

“He is egotistical, malicious, conniving, back-stabbing, and self-centered at all times,” you spat, shaking your shoulders and hissing, “How do you think it went?” 

“Ah,” he echoed a lengthy exhale, his smile drawing up his cheeks, “So it was good, then,” Sir Crocodile chuckled, reaching into his breast pocket and placing a cigar in his teeth. 

“Unfortunately, yes,” you pouted softly, leaning away from Sir Crocodile and raising your glass up to your lips, “It was very good.”

“What made you do it?” he reached into his pocket again, claiming a gold-capped lighter and igniting the end, “You claim to hate him so much, yet you slept with him.”

You huffed another sigh of defeat, attempting to continue the facade of being a content plaything atop Sir Crocodile's knee with a subtle stretch and sultry roll of your torso. He watched with interest, exhaling a breath of cigar smoke as he fixed his gaze upon your face. 

“He attempted to poison me with an aphrodisiac,” you confessed truthfully, “I switched glasses with him, and he doused himself with it. Was a begging, pleading, whiny mess.” Your lips tugged up at the corners, “Would have been cruel to leave him in such a state.

“While I am many things, my handsome Crocodile,” you whisper to him, your eyes depicting a seriousness within them, “Cruel is not one of my main attributes.”

“He has concubines,” Sir Crocodile commented with humor dripping from his voice, “Why didn't you leave to get them for him?”

“I tried,” you giggled at his voice, alongside his hook tickling at your hip and thigh, “He all but forced me to stay with his pleading silver tongue, and those pretty, ruby eyes.” 

This was the first time Sir Crocodile released an unbridled laugh from deep within the recesses of his belly. His loud laughter drew a few wandering eyes, and prompted you to laugh yourself. He gently swatted at your thigh, giving your leg a curt, playful tap. 

“So you do find him attractive, and allowed him to persuade you with a few pretty words,” his teasing prompted you to roll your eyes in response, “And here I thought I was the one you found most attractive here.”

“You are, Sir Crocodile,” you cooed down at the man, pursing your lips as you combed through his hair with your fingers, “So handsome,” you leaned forward, brushing your nose against his and pressing a sweet kiss against his lips.

He hummed into you, this time drawing up his right hand to cup the back of your head to hold you closer. A small gasp of surprise spilled from your lips as he moved his mouth slowly and lovingly against yours. His nose brushed with yours as he changed angles, his eyes fluttered shut as he enjoyed your embrace. 

Doflamingo grew livid, dismissing his concubines for the night and sculking over to the corner of the room to continue watching the two of you in a loving embrace. His scowl was intense and enraged, his gaze like his devil-fruit wires attached to pointed fingertips. 

“Doflamingo is watching more intently now,” Crocodile murmured against your lips, nudging your face up with his chin to break the kiss, “Are you certain you truly have no feelings for him?”

“He has feelings for me,” you admitted plainly, Crocodile leant forwards to claim your lips against his once more. You hummed against him, enjoying his attention and the sultry motion of his lips on yours. 

“He admitted them?” he sighed, moving his lips over to your jaw, “Made a claim on you?” He pressed a few soft kisses on your neck, gazing directly at Doflamingo, before pulling away. His eyes met yours, a soft and mischievous smirk rising up his lips. 

“He proposed to me. He called me ‘his queen,’ and ‘mi amor’,” you sighed in response, playing with Sir Crocodile’s hair at the nape of his neck, “I refused.”

“Ah, I see,” the wicked crocodilian grin drew up his cheeks, the silver scar joining the creases of his smiling eyes, “Men can act like animals when the mate they want rejects them,” he nodded, sweeping your hair away from your face, “And he did have such a pretty one picked out.”

“I should've put him down like the rabid dog he is,” you rolled your eyes, sneaking a look at Doflamingo from the corner of your eye and noticing his glasses partially drawn down his nose to pay you both unshrouded attention. 

“More akin to some diseased poultry,” Crocodile's playfulness prompted you to relax back into him, giving him your undivided attention once more. Raising your glasses again, you withdrew from his arms and sipped at your scotch. 

You both continued joking with one another, switching to more civilized conversation before it came time to excuse yourself from his lap and use the bathroom. He was pleased to find a new friend in you, truly feeling as if he had made a new ally and friendship with you. 

“It has been a pleasure being your lap princess for the night,” you complimented him, “I have never been more thankful that you attended the soiree without an escort, or me without a solitary chaperone.”

“I have enjoyed playing the part of your whore for the night,” he chuckled with a warm smile, “And I never need an escort, my princess,” claiming your right hand in his right and pressing his lips to your knuckles, “I tend to steal the pretty ones from the marines as a subtle ‘fuck you,’ to being called to attend these soirees. Truly a waste of my time.”

“I'm sorry to have held your attention for so long, Sir Crocodile,” you trailed your eyes over his face one final time, focussing on his lips before returning to his purple orbs, “Happy hunting for what comes next for you.”

“And good luck with Doflamingo,” he smirked at you, “You'll likely need it for what comes next for you,” offering you one final kiss atop your knuckles before you turned away towards the bathrooms. Once there, you hastily finished refreshing yourself, noticing you were not nearly as intoxicated as you ought to be with the amount of scotch you consumed. 

After exiting the small, single bathroom, you move to the hallway vanity and begin to wash your hands, blissfully ignorant of the looming figure rapidly approaching behind you. Toying with your lips, you fixed the small smudge on your chin from Sir Crocodile’s earlier sultry oscillations against your face. 

You looked beside your reflection, noting the pink feathers before all else over your shoulder. Shadow concealed his face, the small shine of pink from his glasses reflected was the only indication that he was truly looking at you. 

“Donquixote,” you uttered your dark acknowledgement, drying your hands on the ornate towels provided. 

“Mi amor,” he returned your tone, his cadence deep and dangerous. You drew up your heckles at that comment before choosing to make your way back into the main hall. You turned your head away from him, choosing to strut past him with no further acknowledgement of him. 

Just as you made it to the arched doorway, a strong palm and thick fingers surrounded the base of your neck, tugging you backwards against his chest. The crown of your head slotted harshly between his pectorals, your eyes and lips both scrunching tightly shut as he leaned down into your ear. 

“Where are you going?” he growled into your ear with a lazy slur in his speech as you attempt to wriggle and turn your head away in response, “I thought you said you don't usually take men twice your size, yet you chose to nibble at his face like a plover cleaning the jaws of a crocodile.” He returned you to the position you found yourself prior, using his brute strength to angle your body towards the vanity mirror. 

“Better than watching a flamingo feed his baby chicks mouthfuls of his own regurgitation,” you spat, choosing to stand strong in his steely grip, “Unhand me.” He flexed his hand, tensing the digits to completely wring your neck within his single hand. 

“For you to return to sit on his knee?” Doflamingo shook your neck lightly, “To place your lips on his once more?” he tightened his grip, “To invite him to your suite to share a private evening together?” You whimpered beneath his strength, his growl of foreboding ending your train of thought with a simple, “Not a chance.” 

“Release me, Donquixote,” you choked out, your hands clutching at your throat to break away his vice-like grip, “I am not yours to toy with. I didn't arrive with you, and I will certainly not be leaving with you.”

“You arrived with Sir Crocodile as his guest, did you not?” he drew up his arm to clutch at your torso with his vacant hand, “You're truly planning on leaving with him tonight? To take him home and continue your display of lust and passion?”

You chose to remain silent, an action that seemed to anger him more. You slammed your eyes shut, feeling how tense he was squeezing your neck with his left hand, while his right snaked down to your stomach. Scrunching your eyes ever tighter, he pawed at your dress and began to ball the material into heaping fistfuls just below your hips. 

“You were going to give to him what always should be mine,” he barked, raking his right hand over your stomach while burying his head within the crook of your shoulder, “You're mine.” His whisper cracked into a soft whimper, but you remained firm in your stance. 

You released your hands from clawing at his left hand. Arching your shoulders back, you tilted your chin up and clenched your jaw tightly closed. Doflamingo burried his face further into your neck and you felt the gentle quiver of his lip atop your skin. 

“Why can't you just-...?” he stuttered out, glancing up at your reflection. You darted your eyes from yourself to him in the mirror, noticing the swell in his ruby gaze weeping over his lashline. 

“Why can't I just what, Warlord?” you whispered, eyes narrow and dangerous. His lips parted as he pressed a soft and gentle kiss against your skin in response. He hooked his nose over your pulse and inhaled the scent against your skin. 

Snapping your hard gaze from your distorted reflection to his. Your eyes alone had the hand on your stomach and thighs immediately rip away from your flesh. The other loosened its grip on your neck, his fingers only holding you steady instead. 

“Why can't I what, Donquixote?” you uttered darkly. A soft quiver in his lips and straightening of his back away. His grip held him against you, his shrouded eyes unbreaking in their attention. 

“Answer me, Donquixote,” you barked your orders at him, “Take off those ridiculous glasses and answer me.” Snapping out of his partial daze, his frown deepened and his scowl drew over his lips. 

“You-... You can't tell me what to do-,” he began, halting as you turned in his arms and snatched the pink glasses off his face. 

“I am not some paid concubine you can take advantage of in a bathroom without a moment's notice,” you elevated your command while scowling, your lips rose in front of gnashing teeth, “Nor am I a whore for free use to sheathe yourself in. Although I may not be a warlord, a marine, or a pirate: what I am is not someone to be treated this way.”

His eyes darted between yours, his left hand still firmly affixed to the nape of your neck. You inhaled a deep breath, hardened your features and extended your chin in the air with pride. 

“Is this the way you would treat a queen, Donquixote?” your vocal cadence had Doflamingo's eyes fluttering, the ruby hue glimmering behind his thick, blonde eyelashes. He closed his eyes, only reopening them to look at your feet. 

“I do not understand,” he whispered, releasing your neck from his hand and instead reaching for your hand. You placed your right hand in his left, reaching forward and claiming his right hand in your left. 

“Try again,” you whispered in a tone lighter than air. He closed his eyes, blinking back his prior domination and succumbing to forced humility. 

“I truly care not for queens, kings, emperors, gods, nor their heirs and their titles,” he uttered his confession, his thumbs circle over your knuckles, dwarfing your hands within his own. “What I do care about is you. And I would treat you as a goddess if you would be my queen,” he stepped forward, stooping as he pressed his forehead against yours. 

As his grip lightened on your hands, you hastily snatched them away from him. Using the time to adjust your dress to a more suitable length and smooth over the material. A shudder of his hands at the absence of yours prompted him to wince back in shock. He cringed at his own admittance of adoration for you once more, knowing you would likely shoot him down again. 

You broke away from pressing your forehead against his and turned back to face your reflection. Checking over your makeup for smudges and smears, you simply turned on your heel without another word to Doflamingo behind you. A soft call of your name prompted you to slow your exit, but what truly caught you off guard was a single word from the man behind you. 

“Please.”

Hovering at the door, you paused on the threshold before exiting. Looking over your shoulder, you noticed Doflamingo was yet to place his glasses back on his face. His rounded eyes looked up at you through his lengthy eyelashes, a soft stutter in his movements prompting your lips to part. 

“Please what, Donquixote?” you attempted, his hand raising up to halt your words. 

“Please be mine. Say you're mine. Say you'll be my queen: my Reina of Dressrosa,” he rolled your name following his own family name in a breathy chant, “Mi amor, I need you by my side. Say you're mine, and I will fall on my knees for you.”

You choked on your own words, your tongue refusing to relay an affirmation or negation of claiming such a title for yourself. Blinking hastily, you redrew your eyes to the lengthy, wide corridor and back once more to the vanity behind you. 

“Mi Reina,” he serenaded you, romancing your resolution to simply leave him there, “Why can't you just give into me?” You shut your eyes and inhale deeply, holding it for a moment before releasing the tension in your breath. 

“I don't see you on your knees,” you whisper in a sneer without peering over at him. In response to your taunt, all you heard was a thud and a ruffle of feathers. You open your eyes and gaze straight ahead as you hear the shuffle of leather meeting the tiled bathroom floor. 

“If you turn, you will see me exactly how I will remain for you,” he whispered his plea, desperate for your attention, “Only for you, my queen.” After another nonchalant sigh, you finally give in and turn to him. 

The King of Dressrosa, the powerful warlord in a shroud of pink feathers, and the man who haunted your every dream with memories of the afternoon shared together, was on his knees. His knees were parted and his back was arched in a deep concave to compensate for his lanky form. He was the picture of humility and his eyes almost held the desperation and innocence of a child who was grieving a lost toy. 

“And how would you treat your queen, Doflamingo?” you whisper to him, slowly walking over and staring down at his hung head and pleading eyes. Cupping his cheek in your hand, you draw your face down and hover them over his. 

“I would worship you, mi amor,” he whispered, holding eye contact with you and pressing his lips against your palm. “I would seek to please you each morning, afternoon, and well into the night. I would do anything for you, just for the pleasure of having you at my side.” His eyelashes fluttered and his breath hitched. 

“You're pathetic, Doflamingo,” you whisper without remorse, “Attempting to make me jealous with your concubines, only to become jealous yourself. Disgraceful.” He whimpered, his pupils eclipsing his ruby eyes as his lips quivered. 

“D-Don't bully me like this,” he whispers, arching his body into the scrap of attention you're giving him as he remains kneeling on the bathroom floor, “You know it only makes me want you more.” You smirk at him, leaning over his lips and hovering your above his. 

“Despicable and detestable,” you whisper, prompting him to whine in response to your degradation. 

“Stop it, mi amor. I'm serious,” he whimpered, his blonde eyebrows raising in a peak in the centre of his eyebrows, “You know how hard your horrible words make my cock. I'll cum untouched if you carry on like this.”

“Oh,” you pout in a mocking tease, “So disgusting, Doflamingo. You are an egotistical, self-centered, horrible person who doesn't deserve to taste my lips on his.”

“P-Please, mi amor,” he stuttered, his lips parting and huffing in response, “Please kiss me. Say you're mine. Say you'll be with me always-.” You cut him off by giving in and placing your lips over his and claiming his whimpers into your mouth. 

He immediately drew his hands to the back of your thighs and tugged you into his broad chest, moaning and whining like a greedy puppy being gifted his first steak after a lifetime of malnourishment. He rubbed patterns into your skin with the pads of his thumbs, raking his hands up to splay over your ass and mould them beneath his lengthy digits. 

“I hate you,” you utter into his lips as your kiss lingers on. He groans into your lips and rolls his eyes in bliss as you finally grant him the attention he so desperately craves from you. 

“I love you,” he confessed in a breathy chant, forcing your legs apart and urging you to step over his hips for balance. You softly caress his shoulders and gather your hands at the back of his neck, tilting your chin and grinding your tongue against his in an unbridled expression of your lust. 

The truth of it was this: Donquixote Doflamingo had not experienced a single orgasm since you allowed him the pleasure of burrying himself deep within your perfect pussy. He couldn't bring himself to release his seed into his hand, nor erupt in ecstasy with his concubines forthwith. 

There was nothing he could do to usher himself within the halls of heavenly bliss, not even picturing your face as he usually did could bring him over the edge. His impotence came as a complete surprise to him, but his libido remained ever higher. He was drunk on your pussy, a curse he knew would plague him harder than the pollen ever could. 

Each time he nearly reached the end of climax, his body forced him to edge himself by simply blocking his pathway to heaven. And each time he experienced this, he would send you a gift to know he thought of you. It was a cruel game he was playing, each gift becoming more extravagant and extreme than the last. He wanted you, and he knew you truly didn't want him. 

But now as he felt you within his arms and ravishing his lips with your own, he could barely contain himself. He loved you so desperately, he knew he could only seek out satisfaction within your arms. 

You smirked into the kiss, raising your right foot off the ground and placing it over where you knew his hard cock was lingering beneath. He immediately whimpered into your mouth, nodding frantically and urging you to press harder. 

Breaking your lips away, you gazed predatorily into his eyes and sneered at him with a cruel grin. 

“You want me to be your queen, Doflamingo?” you asked him, pressing harder with your heel over his clothed and achingly stiff cock, “Prove it to me.” He nodded, his eyes looking up eagerly and desperately. 

“Please, my queen,” he whispered, removing one hand from your ass and wringing your ankle with his lengthy digits, “I'll do anything.” His eyes filled with glossy tears as he gazed up at you with nothing but devotion. 

You tested his resolve, slowly grinding the ball of your foot over his cock and collecting a high-pitched groan from him in response. You began to pick up the pace, angling your toes to curl and circle over his cock beneath his patterned leather pants. 

“Anything?” you hum your question at him with a soft click of your tongue, “Are you quite sure, Doflamingo?” 

“Anything!” he huffed and panted, his hand gripping your ankle grinding his cock into your foot while his hips began to rutt against your shoe. “Please, I'll do anything. Anything you want. Please.” 

“Oh, so pathetic,” you pout at him, looking down at him as his jaw fell slack and eyes grew half lidded. The longer he ground his cock against your ankle, the harder he pawed at your ass to withhold him from cumming immediately. He was so built up, he couldn't take another minute without you. 

“You gonna cum in your pants, pretty boy?” you taunt him. He immediately strained his release, withholding his climax by gritting his teeth and whining in response. 

“Only if you let me, my queen,” his breathy whisper had your eyes eclipse with your own lust. He continued to grind and rutt his aching cock against your shoe, his eyes crying as he withheld his orgasm from exploding immediately.  

“Go on then, Doflamingo,” you taunt him, caressing his forehead and taunting him with your gracious, gentle affection while overwhelming his senses by pressing your shoe firmer against his cock. “Cum in your pants like a misbehaving puppy. Cum for your queen.”

“M-my queen?” He stuttered rocking his hips harder into your food while rolling the flesh of your ass beneath his hand, “Can I cum for you, my queen? You'll let me cum for you? My queen? You'll be mine?” His questions flew out of his lips faster than lightning, prompting you to laugh at him in response. 

He took your laughter as a sign of your permission, immediately flooding his pants with sticky ropes of his viscous cum. He was so pent up, his thick load coated the insides of his pants and immediately moved to stain the material of his pants with the oozy dampness of his eruption. 

“Fuck-... I-I'm cumming. I'm-... f-fuck-... hhah-... fuck, mi amor. I'm cumming,” he chanted your name like a prayer, wheezing as his breath ran away from him at the coil in his abdomen snapping so harshly by such a small touch. You kept your shoe firmly pressed against his cock, clicking your tongue as you felt his cum seep through his pants into your shoe. 

“Tsk, you made a big mess of my favourite shoes, Doflamingo,” you utter in disgust before your lips spring up into an unhinged smile, “Lick it off.” 

Without further words he eagerly drew your ankle up to his face and parted his lips. Releasing his tongue out, he swirled the moist morsel over the ball of your foot and licked over your toes. He never once drew his eyes away from yours, his lips drifting from licking your heel to kissing the tips of your toes. 

“Enough,” you said, tearing your foot away from his face and looking down your nose at him. He fluttered his eyelashes at you while feeling the thick globs of glossy cum trickle down his balls and pool at his ass between his parted thighs. 

“You'll marry me, then?” Doflamingo questioned you in a low whisper, “You'll be my queen and rule by my side as my goddess? Mi Reina. Mi amor, please say I passed your test.” 

You hum in thought, feining contemplation while knowing within your heart the answer you truly wanted. 

“Yes, you greedy, detestable man,” you roll your eyes at him, caressing his cheek before bringing your lips to brush against his forehead, “I'll marry you.” He exhaled a breath he didn't know he was withholding and felt a weight fall away from his shoulders. He flopped into your touch, releasing your ankle and ass and drawing his hands up to cradle your lower back into his chest. 

Removing one of his hands, he reached into the hidden breast pocket within his pink, feathered cloak and pulled out a small, burgandy box. You place both feet beside his hips and hold firm in your stance. 

“Good,” he smiled with a shaky breath, withdrawing his head from your hands and revealing the glossy box to you. “Because otherwise I would've brought this along all for nothing.” He opened the box, revealing a soft pink, solitaire, square diamond on a golden band of rubies and garnets to frame it. 

“Really, Doflamingo?” you lull your head to the side and glare at him, “You're going to propose to me on the bathroom floor of a marine gala with your pants flooded with cum?” He nodded eagerly in response, his eyes looking up, hopeful and pleading. 

“You really are pathetic,” you utter in response, tugging your left hand away from his face and holding it out to him. He laughed, his smile genuine and truly happy as he removed the carefully selected ring and placed it over your unity finger. It slotted over your finger with ease, his lips eagerly finding your knuckles as soon as he moved it to the hilt. 

“Careful with your mean words now, Mami,” he whispered into your hand, his eyes falling half-lidded and dangerous, “Or my pants won't be the only thing leaving this bathroom with my cum painting it's insides.”

don't go Nanamin don't go