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flowerflamestars · 5 months

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Another alternative Effloresce pov. Azriel, as the slow moving shitshow train wreck his life is is quickly becoming a fast moving shit show train wreck.

I cannot tell you how much I love this one!

So, I would say across all my fics Azriel is a character who is the most consistent? Especially since almost all of them were written before acosf TERRIBLY let us in his actually creepy little headspace, and I've additionally chosen to keep my made up shadowman as he is.

Effloresce Az is basically Starlight Az but SADDER. He's Daylight Az without a kiddo and husband, Shoreless Sea Az without the absolutely beneficial retirement, and man is he TIRED.

You're Azriel, and your job sucks. Your inborn skillset leaves you zero other options, and you know this. It's better to be the left hand of power than in a cell for life, but you know what? Sometimes you can only do so goddamn much.

You're Azriel and that's kind of all you've got. You're one of a kind, literally. Alone forever in that. But you love Cassian. You play the little games with Mor for harmony. You respect- alien, ancient, different, probably what you'll feel like in a thousand goddamn years if you live that long- Amren.

You see the good in Rhysand, limited as it is to personal things, but you also see the vast potential for failure.

You see him listening to this CHILD OF A GIRL- who seems nice, yeah. You're worried about her, frankly. The Courts of Prythian revived her and will not just let that go- but that doesn't mean you think she has, shall we say, good ideas.

You watch Cassian spend days arguing against this.

You rock up over the wall and realize these two mortal, innocent women have probably been taken captive by Spring. Your orders are a mistake, you have a war to fight that has nothing to do with these people, but you're here, and you might as well do some good.

You move to neutralize the threat.

Lucien Vanserra does not act like a vassal of Spring. No, not even at Autumn prince. You can drown fire in the dark, but you can't swallow the sun or an ocean of flame without end.

That doesn't matter either, because this determined little slip of blond sunshine just fucking stabbed you. And for the first time in maybe decades, you just want to laugh. You've fucked up, clearly, but you're okay. (You can live through so much worse than letting a human woman stab you to feel safe.)

You hear Cassian coming, and you know.

It doesn't matter what Feyre is saying. Has said. You're Azriel and you can't not know or not hear- she's wrong or she lied. You have a High Lord sweating blood to protect a stunningly, dangerously charming woman and you have her sister, who feels less like delight and more like a dream.

You're a shadowsinger, whose providence is secrets and these two woman are shrouded.

You're fucked, essentially.

You know they're not really human.

You know they're hiding, and Feyre is going to break that right open if Rhysand has his way, no matter how many times you point out that the Queens want nothing to do with Prythian's fae.

You're Azriel, and you've always been smart enough to stay quiet when you have no orders forcing you to do otherwise. You're polite. You're frankly, horrified. You have no idea what to do with the Archeron sisters acting like you're nothing to be afraid of.

You know, before Cassian knows, that every wind that has ever carried him had lead him right here.

(You remember what that felt like. The fear, the euphoria. You were young and stupid enough to consider it simple rightness, your extra senses on your side, pulling you toward the correct choice in fealty. You didn't know what it was until too late. You didn't know and you never even got to know or got to mourn. You didn't have the right to mourn a girl dead too soon, who would have never been anything but your queen had she grown old enough to wear a crown.)

(Dead before the start, just like you.)

You decide, immediately, you cannot let what happened to you happen to Cassian. Nesta Archeron might be a compelling power, might be a fighter with ash in her hair and a cunning mind, but Shahar was a High Lady born. Not even that could save her.

You understand the instant way you like Elain is magic, whether she knows it or not. (She does not). Real affection follows quickly, you are, despite all magic to the contrary, as Illyrian as Cassian. You cannot not know. You like Nesta too- if only for her ferocity. Her bleeding, present fury.

They treat you like a person.

Fearlessly.

Easily.

You watch as their sister breaks their hearts, cracks already laid. You watch Rhysand act more and more territorial, and of course you know why too. You watch Lucien Vanserra safeguard the lives and livelihoods of hundreds of humans and you understand this, here, is a Court too.

A better one.

You quietly, a secret, kill their father.

You bind yourself in blood to a favor, and use it to unshackle the Archeron bloodline and their vassals from the Queens.

You watch Nesta Archeron kneel in the snow, watch Elain Archeron pull a knife on a High Lord of Prythian over human lives, and think, with dread and barren exhaustion, you're making the right choice.

The hard choice.

(How many noncombatants died in Sangravah? In every city Amarantha occupied? How many servants in the Hewn City every year? How many Illyrian children in the starving north? How many deaths were Azriel's fault, because Rhysand didn't care?)

(The Archerons would rather die with their people than live. Were educating their maids. Sending their kitchen boys to university. Taking in the orphans of other estates, having never forgotten what it was to be forgotten, hungry and alone.)

You're Azriel, and you can't not know how badly this is going to hurt.

#FAST MOVING TRAIN WRECK AHOY #I only covered what's posted because the next chapter is truly #THE BONES OF MY SOUL IN MY HANDS THE WORLD ON FIRE AND I HAVE NOTHING LEFT TO GIVE BUT MORE DEATH #from Az's POV #he takes finding Shahars remains NOT WELL #plus you know #the war kickstarts #Cassian continues to act basically insane in a good way #And Nesta and Elain just keep raising the goddamn bar he was trying to ignore even existed #The Shahar stuff is actually really important #he does not tell Rhys #EVER!#Bones are literally he closest he's ever going to come #they weren't in love #they didn't even know each other #HE DIDN'T KNOW UNTIL SHE DIED #and of course #Rhys made that entirely about himself #Az just. I think he likes Feyre in this impish way canon always wants Cassian to (but then Cassian put her on such a high altar it failed)#but also? is too deep in the shit of it all #not to be like: she's a really powerful symbol #but she shouldn't be in charge????

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mamamittens · 2 years

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Bite Me (I Will) +18

Day #5 of Spooktober!

Fandom: One Piece (Regency-ish AU – Look, I’m not a historian, consider this like… Romance Novel Regency Era)

AO3 link ;)

Ship: Vampire!CrocodileXF!Reader

Warnings: blood kink/play, biting, breath play, oral sex, rough sex, dirty talk, degradation, unsafe sex, dom/sub undertone (That probably turned into overtones, my bad), overstimulation, aphrodisiac, begging, and light somnophilia implied (reader wakes up to oral). Oh! And implied future corruption kink and sex in a church (threat or a promise, you decide).

Word Count: 5,029

@tardiiart

Perhaps the illustrious ballroom would be more impressive if you hadn’t seen at least a dozen just as opulent in the past three months. This season had been particularly busy compared to the past few years, though you aren’t sure why exactly. Well, actually, you do know why. But the probable reason was ridiculous enough you refused to acknowledge it out loud or even in your head.

See… it might be your fault. Sort of.

You fiddled a little with the black lace sleeve of your dress. The height of fashion and just a bit ahead, the dark red dress was bold against the white marble and golden hallway. Tucked in close to your chest with a corset with layers of fabric that fanned out around you, you were quire fond of the design. Elegant and just a little spicy with the lacy cover that prevented a clear view of your breasts. Many men had given you’re a second glance tonight… it was a shame your thoughts rested with none of them at all.

No, you were thinking of only one man. And the source of your busy dance schedule this season.

It started late last season when the illusive and reclusive Earl of Alabasta, Lord Crocodile, finally deigned to appear at the party of a Duchess. Presumably as a favor of some kind since he was famous for refusing any invites to all functions not directly related to his duties or business obligations. The man cut quite the figure among a group of tittering young ladies vying for his attention. Suit immaculately tailored with crisp lines in a color so dark you were only somewhat sure it wasn’t actually black. It contrasted greatly with his famous gold hook—which he received in an incident many years back that the rumor mill still could not pin down to this day. Dark hair slicked back as he stared, bored as shit, with a fat cigar clenched between his teeth and a thin scar stretching over his nose and cheeks in a seamless line.

The man looked so sullen to be there you decided it wouldn’t hurt to bring him some wine. Hopefully getting a little tipsy would improve his night. He seemed appreciative at the time, eagerly accepting the glass and excusing himself to the balcony area—much to the disappointment of the hopeful young ladies that gave you sharp glances for the interruption. If Lord Crocodile had been looking for a wife, it would be the talk of the city. So their time would honestly be better spent looking elsewhere. You, at least, were quite happy without a husband. Your fortune firmly your own and no family close enough to have a say in the matter, you were free to do as you pleased with no plans to change that.

Naturally, you were quite surprised when Lord Crocodile asked you to join him in a waltz not an hour later, wine and cigar free. There was a slightly awkward pause as you took in his request—and another when you tried to puzzle out how to hold his hook. But, thankfully, Lord Crocodile found your hesitance amusing rather than insulting.

“Grip the base, if you must, my lady.” Lord Crocodile suggested with a sly smirk. You huffed, startled as your face heated up for a moment before wrapping your hand around the base of his golden hook. You stared up at him with narrowed eyes, tipping your chin up with your own smile.

“I suppose it will have to do, so long as you don’t falter in this dance, Lord Crocodile.” You challenged. His smirk fell for a second before growing back with an arched, smug brow.

“Oh, I’m sure I won’t disappoint, my lady.” The Earl suggested before sweeping you onto the dance floor. Despite his famous shut-in ways, the waltz was precise and breathtaking. Lord Crocodile never failing to dip, swing, and lead you around the floor in time with the music. His height actually proved to be more of a challenge than his hook, leading you to stare firmly at the buttons of his jacket or demurely glance up through your lashes.

When the orchestra finally ended, you were almost breathless and giddy. It had been ages since you’d danced like that. Still, you could hardly allow the smug bastard to win completely.

“It appears you are quite… adequate of a dance partner, my lord.” You laughed, attempting to step back, but his grip on your waist didn’t falter.

Lord Crocodile slowly removed his hand and stepped back. Pulling his hook, and your hand still firmly gripping the warm metal, to his lips as he bowed. His lips brushed your gloved knuckles softly, breath seeping into the fabric as he chuckled.

“As are you, my lady… perhaps I shall have to find you on the dance floor again?” he suggested lightly with burning eyes. Shocked at his forwardness, you couldn’t help but smile.

“Perhaps.” You acquiesced.

Ever since then he’s danced with you at every ball at least once. Each time with vague innuendo that you coyly responded to without addressing the lewdness of his phrasing because unlike him, you were raised better than that. Incorrigible bastard that he is.

This ball was the same as the others in the end. Glittery finery abound, eager young ladies seeking a husband, gossiping old ladies on the sidelines, and him. Striding across the room to ask for a dance he knew you would accept. Still immaculately dressed and cocky as ever, you had half a mind to turn him down despite the improperness of such a request just to wipe the smug look off his face. And then, for once, there was a break in routine.

A handsome young man cut in front of you.

Eager and bold, he asked for your hand in a dance and too surprised to turn him down, you agreed.

He wasn’t… a terrible dancer. Though you once teased Lord Crocodile of being ‘adequate’, you grudgingly admitted that this young man fit far better than the Earl. A bit too unsteady, hands just shy of improper and loose, you couldn’t quite lose yourself in the waltz. He also used far too much cologne, which was unfortunate since this particular waltz required you to keep close to the young man. You actually had enough room to think about how awkward it was going to be to ensure this young man never sought your hand for a dance again once the music wound down.

Thankfully, just like any other time in a dance, Lord Crocodile didn’t let you down.

Just before the young man—did he even give his name? How improper of him—could speak, a gold hook wrapped around your wrist and gave a slight tug. Shocked by his boldness, you nevertheless allowed Lord Crocodile to pull your hand up to be kissed.

“My apologies, my lady. I almost didn’t recognize you in such a lovely dress… I hope you still have the energy for one more dance?” Lord Crocodile asked coyly, dismissing the unfortunate young man with a glance. Though he sputtered, the young man left without comment. “You appear quite… unsatisfied with your previous partner’s performance.”

“And you believe you can rectify that?” You asked, just as coy. Lord Crocodile merely smiled and took your hand, sweeping you into a wide arch for a much more invigorating waltz.

“I haven’t left you wanting yet, have I?” Lord Crocodile asked, leading you flawlessly as you instinctively rested your hand just below his hook.

“What if you have left me wanting, my lord?” You tipped your head back with a sly grin. Lord Crocodile paused for a heartbeat before grinning.

“Then I’ll have to rectify that, won’t I, my lady?” Crocodile leaned down and whispered into your ear. You gasped, shocked and delighted in equal measure. A subdued cologne mixed with whiskey and ashes tickled your nose.

Flushed with heat and feeling unusually faint in your tight corset, you laughed.

“Oh, promises, promises my lord.” You tittered softly, “You should be more careful with your words. Someone might misconstrue them into something perverse.” A puff of warm air tickled your ear.

“No need to misconstrue anything if that’s exactly what I mean. You really do look ravishing in that dress, you know.” Crocodile whispered, “And I find myself compelled to your side with every dance.”

“Oh, I’d say you must tell every lady that, but it shocks me that you find your way to the dancefloor at all.” You teased, letting your dress flare in a spin Crocodile eagerly allowed.

“Perhaps I can’t stand to be called merely ‘adequate’, my lady.” Crocodile teased back as the song slowly drifted off. You were both on the edges of the dance floor now as he lead you to the back door where a few party goers were slipping out to enjoy the gardens. “If you’re not exhausted, I thought we could enjoy some fresh air?” he asked.

You smiled, nodding eagerly.

“The gardens sound quite nice, actually.” Of course, it wasn’t just the garden that you were both intending to enjoy. The air was crisp tonight outside of the ballroom. The rose bushes and flowers immaculately tended in clear paths that lead to a hedge maze. Pumpkin lanterns decorated the way and provided ample light further out.

As a gentleman should, Crocodile offered his arm for you to hold. Something you eagerly took advantage of, enjoying the warmth and firmness under your hands. The quiet walk was serene, interrupted only by the clack of your heels on the paved pathway and the sound of leaves brushing your dress as you walked by. Crocodile, a man you were beginning to suspect of incredible deviancy, lead an almost straight path to the maze. Where neither one of you could be seen from the outside.

You snorted, Crocodile giving you a sly glance. You merely batted your eyelashes and smiled.

“You’re a bold man, my lord.” Crocodile grinned, showing more teeth than you’d ever seen before. Sharp, too… unusually so.

“And to think this is only the start, my lady.”

“You promise?” You asked demurely, teasing him. Crocodile paused just after the first turn in the maze and leaned down to whisper against your temple.

“I’ll do much more than make promises for you, my lady. I’m a… man of action. Promises are sweet, pretty things meant to tempt you. And I intend to offer much more tangible delights in my seduction. If you think you can handle me.” You gasped, shocked as his breath curled around your hairline. Your heart raced and you loved it. “I want to hear you say it, my lady. I want more than just that pretty heart beating for me.”

“Oh? And what do you want to hear me say, my lord? That I enjoyed dancing with you? Greatly?” You pulled away from his arm and spun around, laughing as you walked back further into the maze. “That I find you quite scandalous and bold? And that I like that about you very much?” You challenged.

Crocodile narrowed his eyes dangerously and smirked, stalking forward as you tried to move backwards faster. You only managed a few dizzy turns before your back met a prickly wall of shrubbery.

A dead end. With Crocodile standing tall before you, his body coated in moonlight as he confidently walked closer to you. Until you had to bend you neck to look up at him. Cold, golden metal nipped at your chin as he tilted your head up more.

“Well, my lady, I think…” Crocodile leaned down until his lips ghosted over yours, whiskey and wine mixing between you both, “That was a very good start.” You smirked, reaching up to grasp at his tie.

“Right… you’re a man of action. I almost forgot.” You yanked on his tie hard, sending his lips crashing into yours. Bold and drunk on the illicitness of your actions, you swept your tongue between his teeth and hissed as something nicked you. Blood tainting the kiss as Crocodile groaned, cradling your head with one hand as he deepened your shared passion. Chasing your tongue with his own eagerly.

A soft, plaintive sound slipped out from you as you clutched his suit, answered by a sharp growl that vibrated on your lips. You laughed a little, reaching up to tug on his hair, peaking through your lashes to find his eyes bearing down on your hungrily. They seemed to glow red hot the longer his lips slid over yours, as though he was finally sating his desire and you were thrilled to be there for it. But unfortunately, you couldn’t lose yourself under his heady kiss forever.

You started to pull back when his hand slipped lower, thumb sliding over your throat and squeezing. You gasped, swallowing hard against the pressure as Crocodile growled, resuming the kiss with a harsh nip to your bottom lip. Your breath became labored under his attention, every inhale hard earned under his firm hand. Your eyes slid shut as you leaned into his chest, mewling as the motion briefly dislodged his hand and cool air rushed down your throat. He huffed softly, tongue slipping back further as he dropped the pretense and gripped the column of your throat.

Your heart throbbed, blood racing against his firm grip as you struggled to breath, dizzy. Suddenly, almost as fast as it started, Crocodile pulled back. His tongue slow to leave as lewd strings pulled and snapped with every heave of your chest. He panted, smirk evident as he took in your debauched state.

“I knew it.” He whispered, licking his lips. “You taste like divine perfection… We should stop. Shouldn’t we? You’d be utterly ruined if I gave into what your eyes promise here and now.” Still lightheaded, you laughed.

“I thought you didn’t like promises? And why would anyone need to know you take my breath away?” You giggled. Crocodile smirked.

“Well, neither one of us would have a choice when you start screaming.” You arched a brow.

“And you’d let me?” you challenged. Crocodile sucked in a harsh breath and scoffed.

“What a troublesome young lady, you are. So eager to throw it all away for a moment of pleasure.” Crocodile brushed his hook against your cheek and you leaned into it.

“Only a moment?” you scoffed back, “And here I thought you were a man of action, my lord.” He narrowed his eyes at your, light flashing unnaturally in their depths as he leaned over to whisper against your ear again.

“If you really are so eager for me, leave your window open tomorrow night.” You laughed, turning your head to kiss his cheek.

“Like naughty schoolchildren, my lord?” The smile Crocodile gave you, despite all his pretty words, promised something dark and dangerous.

“Oh, I’m so much worse than a randy young man could ever be.” You tipped your head up to smile at him.

“I’m looking forward to it.” Crocodile briefly softened then, brushing his thumb over your cheek and giving you a chaste kiss.

“I would never disappoint a lady.”

Naturally, you parted ways after that, barring the few moments you both took to set things in order. And you feigned a fever the next day, choosing instead to set out two glasses and a bottle of wine after the sun slipped over the horizon. As tempting as it was to dress up, you decided that there was no point in wasting any makeup or time prettying up your hair. Nor was there any need for a fancy dress.

Windows wide open to the night air, doors locked and staff dismissed clear across the estate, you poured yourself a glass. Your white nightgown was barely enough to stave off the chill in the air. The sheer white thigh high socks a last-minute addition once you realized it was only getting colder. And then you waited.

But not for long.

The sound was soft. Like satin brushing against your skin as a breeze swept through your room. The windows softly locking shut. Startled, you turned to find Crocodile there, elegantly dressed as always. Silently, you offered him a glass.

“How kind of you, but I’m afraid I desire something with more body.” Crocodile stalked across the room and tipped your chin back, “Are you sure you want this, my lady?” Crocodile asked.

Instead of replying, you set down your glass and pulled him close, licking his lips as he groaned in surprise.

“I thought you were a man of action?” You taunted him.

Crocodile was briefly shocked before he grinned, scooping you up into his arms and tossing you onto the bed. He parted his lips wide, showing off his teeth—so sharp in the light you gasped.

“Some would say that it’s debatable I’m a man at all.” Crocodile purred, “But if you’re still unafraid, you have my word that tonight will take your breath away.”

He deliberately hovered over you, bracing his hook on your bed as his hand squeezed your waist. You didn’t bother thinking too deeply on the matter. Questions could come later. You wanted him now.

You shoved your thigh against his burning erection.

“Feels like a man to me, Earl.” You breathed, “But maybe I need a closer inspection?” Crocodile allowed a satisfied grin to overtake his features as he roughly shoved off his clothes.

“Perhaps you do.” Crocodile declared, removing his buckle and releasing his cock. Proudly, he stepped back and grasped it in his hand. “Kneel. You wanted to inspect it, did you not?” Breathlessly, you slid off your bed to your knees. His dick inches from your face. You slipped your tongue over the weeping head and he groaned, hips thrusting forward instinctively.

“Certainly seem to taste like a man.” You whispered, slowly allowing the head to slide between your lips. His hand rested on your hair in a firm grip, pulling you in close.

“Hn. Better be sure. That’s it. Take it in deep.” Crocodile groaned, thrusting his hips forward to shove his cock down your throat. You swallowed hard, Crocodile snarling as he yanked your hair. “Hardly a lady right now, are you? Taking my cock so well, are you a whore? Certainly my whore now, aren’t you?” Crocodile growled, fucking your mouth in shallow motions. His dick made your jaw ache, the hot length thick and hard on your tongue. Long enough to dip down the back of your throat. Cold metal hooked around the back of your neck and forced you to bury your nose in his crotch.

A very unlady-like moan vibrated his cock, another stifled snarl slipping past his lips. Suddenly, he yanked your head off of him.

“If you want my seed, you have to earn it, my lady. Get on the bed. It’s time for your own inspection.” Crocodile demanded, “Do you taste like a lady?”

You scrambled back on the bed as he laughed at your eagerness. Teasingly, Crocodile ensure you laid down flat by running his hook up your body, the sharp tip brushing over your clothed thigh and breasts until he caught the collar. Then, with a harsh jerk, he cut it clean in half. You gasped, attempting not to arch your spine for his roaming hand as he cradled your breast. Pinching the delicate skin with a pleased hum.

Crocodile licked up your belly and nipped the underside of your breast, pressing his tongue hard into your skin until he found your nipple. Curling around the stiff peak, playing with your body, Crocodile suddenly opened his mouth wide and bit down. Fangs sinking in deep as you attempted to scream, the sound cut by his hand grasping your throat. It felt like fire spread through your veins as you shuddered, gasping for air as he sucked in greedily.

Drinking your blood like the finest wine. After only a few moments, Crocodile drew back with a bone-deep growl. His eyes were red, glowing in the subdued light of your room. Blood dripped down his lips as he licked them away. He ripped away the torn remnants of your nightgown.

“Mine. You taste like you’re mine.” Crocodile growled, launching forward to bully his tongue down your throat. He tasted like hot iron and desire as he ate away what little gasps of air you could manage. Your blood was still on fire as he shoved his hand between your soaked lips, teasing your clit as you squirmed. His fingers slipped down lower with ease, sliding into your cunt and spreading your body wide as you keened brokenly. Body quivering as the fire burned hotter.

Despite the absence of his hand on your throat, you found it no easier to breath as moans and pathetic whines slipped onto his tongue. And he ate them all down eagerly, even as you drenched his hand. He shoved your thighs apart as he slid down your body, pausing to lap at the beads of blood that dripped down your breast before kissing your exposed cunt. Licking up your slick mess as eagerly as he drank from you. And when your pussy was clean, he turned his head, brushing down the lacy top of your thigh-high sock and bit into the silky skin freshly exposed, finally allowing you to scream breathlessly as more fire was added to your body.

This time he didn’t drink so heavily, merely sipping from your quivering thigh, choosing instead to smear it up to your cunt to mix the liquids together. The moan that slipped from his lips was sadistic and hedonistic. Pleased and eager as he lapped at the growing pool of bloodied cream. Over the wet smacks you could hear a distinctly damp rhythm further down. What sounded like Crocodile angrily fisting his cock to your taste as you came again with a broken cry.

Snarling, Crocodile flipped your body over, shoving your thighs apart and ass up.

“P-P-Please, O-Oh! I-I want you so bad—my lord please g-give me your cock I’m burning alive—take me! T-Take me-Oh~!” You keened as Crocodile loomed over your body, cock burning against your dripping cunt. He slammed into your ass, hook slipping around your throat and pulling your head back. Crocodile sneered down at you as he fucked you, panting and snarling as you cried. “C-Cro—hng~!” He deliberately pressed his hook against your throat, cutting you off.

“I never said you could have the honor of using my name, slut.” Crocodile snapped his hips furiously, splitting open your sopping wet cunt mercilessly, “It’s lord to you. Not that titles matters when your moaning like a whore. My whore that likes it when I squeeze your throat, don’t you? Go on. Answer me, my lady.” His hook left only to be replaced by his firm hand.

You gasped and moaned for air between his thick cock breaking your body and his harsh grip around your throat.

“Y-Yeee—ahn-hngh~ mmmmm—aaahh-hah-oh! Oh~!” You jerked as his cock brushed over a sensitive spot again. Crocodile laughed harshly, finally letting go of your throat as your orgasm rushed through your body, soaking his thighs. “YES! AH-hah-Oh! Oh! M-My lo—aaa-hah~!—Lord! Mmmmm-my lord—yes, please! Please, harder—Yes! Yes! Y-Yess—oh!” Crocodile’s grip on your hip was bruising as he drove his cock into your body harder. Just as you asked.

“W-What a polite lady I have the pleasure of having tonight. So pretty on my cock. My wanton little whore~” Crocodile cooed, still fucking you hard. “What a waste of a cute little cunt—empty until I came along. Aren’t you thankful for your lord? Providing you with everything you could never have before?” You nodded, drunk as another orgasm built up in your body. Blood burning bright still.

“Y-Yes, I-I’m so grateful to y-y-OooooH~!” You threw your head back with a sharp moan, “M-My lord—Please! Please give it to me—I-I’m still burning up I need more~!” You keened attempting to bury your head into the mattress.

Swiftly, Crocodile slammed into your cunt. Arms winding under your thighs as he picked you up against his chest. His hand fixed back around your throat like it belonged there. He squeezed as you cried out at how deeply his cock rested in your body, your moan turning into a strained gurgle as he bounced you on his length.

“You’ve hardly earned that, lovely. Only ladies get what they want. Whores make do.” Crocodile squeezed hard as he thrust up into your body ruthlessly. Using you for his pleasure. “Feel that? Not me fucking your pretty pussy—that fire? It won’t stop until I say so. Because this body? Mine. These lips? Mine. This tight cunt? Mine. And you have to earn it. Batting your eyelashes won’t get you anywhere with me. Beg.”

Like a fucking monster, Crocodile squeezed your throat harder. Cutting off any attempt at communicating before you could start. You could only weakly moan and bear down on his cock as he fucked you stupid. Hoping that he would take mercy eventually. He couldn’t go forever, could he? You jerked uselessly in his hold as you squirted. Every orgasm hitting you harder as he kept your from even screaming.

Anytime he slowed down he started to ease up on your throat, tempting you to speak. And you barely managed to let his title slip before he rammed his cock into your body and squeezed you again. And again. Dragging you over the edge repeatedly as you lost all sense of time. There was only the ever intensifying burning fire in your blood as you creamed.

Finally, you’re cock-addled brain had a different idea.

“B-Bite me! Bite me!” You yelped just as his grasp tightened. He faltered, his thick cock throbbing hard in your walls.

“What did you say?” Crocodile snarled into your hair, releasing your throat.

“Bite me. T-Take everything—I want it so bad. Your fangs-your cock—I-I’m yours, right? Then bite me.” You begged breathlessly, gasping for air while you still could. You screamed when his cock was ripped from your overstimulated body. Your knees shoved onto his shoulder as he hovered over you with a manic grin.

“I will.” Crocodile dipped his head down as you exposed as much skin as possible. Slamming his cock into you as his fangs pierced your flesh. Hard and faster than humanly possible, your lord railed into you. Your cunt slapping against his thighs with harsh, wet slaps.

Crocodile raced against your beating heart, attempting to drain you dry before you came again on his cock. Drinking down your blood with a heady moan as you screamed, jerking under his body as he slammed into you. Thrusting softly as hot, thick cum filled your abused cunt. Cooling the fire as he groaned into your neck. Panting, you weakly pet his hair. Eyes sliding shut as he slipped his tongue over your pulse with a groan.

Birdsong and a burning fire in your stomach greeted you. The curtains were drawn tight, only the barest streams of daylight visible. Something hot and slick slipped into your cunt as you moaned softly. Weak and dizzy, you could only roll your hips into the sensation. Firm lips pressing into your clit as thick fingers crooked into the walls of your pussy. Your orgasm swept by gently, but you got the distinct impression you fainted for a moment.

When you opened your eyes properly, you nuzzling into a firm, bare chest. Head tucked on a muscular bicep as someone stroked your hair. The scent of a cigar was thick in the air, along with sex and blood.

“Go back to sleep, little lady. I’ve sent for a hearty breakfast—you’ll need every drop you can get.” Crocodile groaned low in his chest, “You taste fucking divine.” You curled your fist against his chest and hummed. Pausing at the unfamiliar weight of metal on your ring finger.

“Hm? Wha—hng—what’s this, my lord?” You asked, pulled back slightly to take a look. It was a gold wedding band with delicate carvings along the side and studded with red gemstones. A large diamond on the top the obvious centerpiece.

“I know I fucked you hard, little lady, but I know you know what a wedding ring is.” Crocodile laughed, exhaling smoke before removing the cigar from between his lips. He pressed a kiss to your temple. “You’re mine, remember? We’ve eloped. How scandalous of us, huh? Papers already all in order. We can throw a big to-do about it later if you’d like. Might make you work for that though… hmm… then again, fucking you against a pulpit before our wedding sounds nice. A vampire and his pretty, innocent bride, bent over in a wedding dress…” You laughed softly.

“Not sure I’d be considered very innocent now.” You admitted, pressing a kiss to his chest. “…Vampire?” You asked, causing Crocodile to scoff.

“Of course! What kind of a weirdo do you take me for? Or did you think I was a kinky fucker that liked blood?” You peaked up at him from under your lashes with a sly smile.

“I distinctly remember you finally cumming inside me only after sinking your teeth into my neck, my lord.” You nipped his chest, “So I’m pretty sure you’re a kinky fuck regardless of your mortality.”

Crocodile gave a sharp bark of laughter, yanking your head back and sneering around the bud of a cigar.

“Yer a sassy little fucker, ain’t ‘cha? I’d fuck it out of ya, but I don’t think you’d be conscious for most of it righ’ now.” Crocodile said from around his cigar, speech muddled somewhat.

“You can try. What’s mine is yours, after all.” You taunted. “I don’t think I imagined you drinking from my cunt earlier this morning either.” Crocodile snorted.

“Damage control. My spit makes pretty little ladies like you heal faster.”

“Oh, so does that mean you’ll have to give me more bruises later?” You blinked innocently. Crocodile snarled softly, but his eyes were bright with promise.

“You know what? I think I just might.”

#spooktober #one piece #one piece smut #crocodile one piece #kinktober #vampire au #undeniable debauchery of the monarchy system of titles #my smartass way of saying I'm probably wrong about title usage and I'm sorry #I don't actually like using the word 'seed' tbh but it fits better with the overall theme #and the emphasis on inheritance #not sure if he can even have kids tbh but there are expectations #Crocodile did have all that set up in advance btw #he seems like a man that knows what he wants and how to get it #it's almost romantic if he didn't wreck reader's shit and make her anemic in the process #look i'm almost through with the smut requests just hold on okay #I'm starting to detect a smut style and the implications are unnerving

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