Work Text:
You have been a pupil of Mihawk’s Academy for just over a year now. There is yourself, and fourteen other students who live with him in his castle on the grounds of Gloom island, all learning the art of Swordsmanship together.
Mihawk is a brutal master, who expects nothing less than complete and utter devotion, discipline, and concentration from every single one of his students. At the beginning of the year there had been twenty in the group, now only fifteen remain. The others either left on their own accord, or at the very worst, were personally cast out by Mihawk himself.
You swore you would see your training to the very end, no matter how many years or even decades it took, swore you would stop at nothing in order to be his most dedicated student.
Every day you wake before the crack of dawn; you clean and nourish yourself, perform your warm up exercises, clean your sword, and then wait patiently at the training grounds with a copy of a book you have previously seen him read. Every day, you are the very first to arrive, and the last to leave every training session.
All of your fellow swordsmen tend to poke fun at you for your rigid regime, especially because you know you are not the strongest pupil at the academy. You rely more on defense, your offense lacking brute strength, but making up for it with how physically fast and quick-witted you can be during sparring matches.
Above all else, they call you a teacher’s pet. Though that’s very easy to tell, seeing as you hang onto Mihawk’s every word, are the first to volunteer for any new exercises or demonstrations, and meticulously practice the routines and techniques until you can’t physically hold your sword any longer.
A few, who you do consider to be your friends, have even figured you out.
“You like him, don’t you?” Maryelle had asked you one night, with a playful gleam in her eye, causing your cheeks to burn a deep shade of crimson red, “Look, I get it. He’s sexy in a scary kind of way.”
Your other friend, Hari piped in as well, “I guess that’s why I don’t get it,” he shrugged, “He’s such a stoic hardass. Yeah, he’s the world’s greatest swordsman, and a good teacher, but he freaks me out.”
You had laughed, still a bit embarrassed, but you admitted, “A little, but I also think he’s brilliant, and beautiful…”
It is the highlight of your entire week if he even casts a spare glance your way, those piercing golden eyes sending shivers up your spine… but during one session, just a week ago, he did something that you’re pretty sure made your entire year:
While he was wandering the training grounds, watching each student practice the new blade technique he had just taught, he paused to observe you. You held your gaze straight forward, trying to pretend like he wasn’t there, just focusing on controlling your legs, arms, and sword down to the smallest detail. After you completed the movements several times, he approached you, getting so close you could feel his warm breath tickle the shell of your ear, as he lowly whispered, “Good girl.”
He walked away as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. The interaction left you stunned, breathless, with an ocean of heat roaring in your blood.
That night you touched yourself; rubbing your clit and stuffing as many of your fingers in your wet, greedy cunt as you could manage. You imagined he was at the foot of your bed, lounging in a chair, arms and legs crossed, glowing eyes gazing at you as he told you, “Good girl…now cum for me.”
The next day, you were noticeably distracted. Instead of listening intently to the lecture Mihawk was giving, you were paying far much more attention to the color and fullness of his lips, the sharp, devilishly handsome angle of his jaw and cheek bones, the firm tautness of his bare chest and abdomen, and how his tall, broad figure would look leaning over you as he thrust into your –
“Y/N.”
His booming voice had violently snatched you out of your daydream, leaving you dazed and horrified as you noticed that every single one of your classmates’ eyes were focused on you. Your entire body flushed, and you could’ve sworn that the tips of your ears were burning off.
“Y-yes, Sir?”
“Would you be so kind as to demonstrate the shikake-waza and oji-waza I described at the beginning of the lesson?”
You had no idea what he was talking about, not a single clue. His eyes were burning holes into you with unblinking, direct contact. The courtyard was completely silent, except for the faint sounds of birds chirping in the trees. You felt as though you would be crushed under the unbearable weight of the shocked expressions of your peers as you sheepishly stuttered your answer, “I-I can’t, Sir. I do not know them…”
“Were you or were you not standing there as I myself, demonstrated them this morning?”
You were so embarrassed you thought you might faint, you bit your lip before responding, “Yes, I was standing right here.”
He stalked towards you, leaning down just inches from your face, “No point in coming so early if you can’t even bother to pay attention. No one likes a performer, Y/N.”
With that he turned on his heel and walked back to the center of the courtyard, leaving you trembling, and nearly in tears. The hushed whispers of your fellow pupils ringing in your ears as the lesson continued on, Mihawk calling on another student to perform what you could not.
The following days after, you were determined to get back in his good graces. He had been impressed with you before, had called you a good girl, and you refused to let one slip up ruin everything you had worked so hard for. But that was proving to be more of a challenge than you previously thought.
Throughout the rest of the week you seemed to have a target on your back, and Mihawk’s hawk-eyes were completely locked in on it. No matter how hard you tried, nothing you did was good enough for him. Your stance was lousy, your posture was poor, your movements too slow, your techniques not accurate, your sword not sharp enough. The list continued, with every single criticism said loudly, and within earshot for the entirety of your peer group to hear.
“Y/N, what did you do to piss him off so badly?” Maryelle had asked, brow furrowed with concern, “I’ve never seen him be this hard on someone before… do you think he’s going to throw you out of the academy?”
You shook your head, feeling defeated. You were exhausted, both physically and emotionally, “I really don’t know… I didn’t mean to zone out at the beginning of the week, I’ve just had a lot on my mind I guess.”
Hari patted you on the shoulder, and with a surprisingly sympathetic tone, he said, “I doubt he’s going to kick you out, he probably would’ve already done that by now. Maybe he’s just pushing you super hard so you unleash your true potential or something.”
“You’re probably right. I can’t afford to slack for even a moment, I know I can do better.”
“Soo…do you still have a crush on him then?” Maryelle teased, poking you in the side.
“Shut up,” you grinned, your cheeks glowing a light pink as you gently shoved her by the shoulder.
That had made you feel a little better, kept your spirits up and reignited your will power. You were going to impress him and show your worth even if it fucking killed you.
Training was still extraordinarily tough though, and it was well established at this point that Mihawk was picking on you in front of everyone when he forced you to spar with five of your classmates in a row one morning.
You panted hard as your chest heaved with exertion; heart beating in your throat, hair wild and dripping with sweat, and more than a few cuts and bruises littered your skin.
“Again.” He demanded, motioning at another student to come forward.
Your fellow pupil looked more than a little concerned, hesitantly glancing between you and Mihawk before taking her stance, sword in hand. Even out of concern for your safety, no one was willing to challenge the teachings of their master.
Without another word you lunged forward, swords clashing as you tried to dive in between her waist and arm to twist the blade from her grasp. It was an attempt to end the fight as quickly as possible, as you were not sure how much longer you could last. But you failed the disarm, her hand hooking under your armpit and flinging you over her shoulder before throwing you to the ground, knocking the wind out of you.
You groaned in pain, struggling to get air into your constricted lungs, while little black spots dipped in and out of your vision, one hand blindly groping the ground for your sword that you could not find.
Suddenly Mihawk was looming over you, tall, broad, and terrifying, almost how he looked in your nighttime fantasies and daydreams. Your sword was gripped in his hand, and he had a stern and disappointed look that shadowed over his face. He tsked at you, bringing the tip of your blade to your chin to slightly lift your head up towards him.
“Is that all you have left in you?”
You bit your lip, chest still heaving to catch your breath, fingers gripped tight in the grass beneath you as a single tear slid down the side of your face. You had no words, you just gently shook your head, and squeezed your eyes shut in defeat.
“Pity… go clean yourself up. Meet me in the ball room after lunch. Bring your sword.” He then drove your sword into the ground close by your shoulder, turned his back, and began to walk towards the castle, “Class dismissed.”
The rest of the students cleared out of the courtyard almost immediately, some gave you looks of pity, others completely ignored your pathetic, sprawled out body and rushed inside, grateful that they were not the object of Mihawk’s wrath.
Hari and Maryelle were the only ones that stayed behind with you, grabbing your sword and helping you to sit up as you began to sob. This was more than embarrassment, this had gone so much farther beyond that point now. You had never felt so utterly humiliated in your entire life, and now you had to face him alone later that afternoon.
Maryelle held you as you cried, arm wrapped tight around you as you limped and leaned against her back to your room, Hari carrying your sword for you with a hand softly placed on your back.
“He’s a prick, Y/N.”
“I know, I know,” you cried, sitting on the edge of your bed with your head in your hands, “I just want him to like me!”
Later that afternoon, after you cleaned yourself up, soaked your aching limbs in the tub, and bandaged your minor wounds, you joined Maryelle and Hari in the dining hall for lunch. When you entered, an uncomfortable silence hung in the room, followed by a surge of hushed tones and whispers as you walked to your seat.
Both Hari and Maryelle rolled their eyes as you sat down next to them, “Ignore them, they’re assholes.”
You began to pick at your food, trying your best to calm your frazzled nerves, “I know, they’re honestly the least of my worries right now.”
“…what do you think is going to happen?” Maryelle asked softly.
“I have no idea. He could throw me out, he could scream at me, he could fight me, he could kill me…”
Hari’s eyes went wide, and he grabbed your hand, “Y/N, he’s not going to kill you… everything is going to be okay.”
“I sure hope so.”
Once the clock in the dining room chimed 1:00, signaling the end of the lunch hour, you nervously made your way across the castle, and finally ended up outside the large and lavish doors of the ballroom. You had only ever been inside the room once, and it was back when it was your first day on the island. He had lined the entire class up and gave a speech about what he expected out of each and every one of you, how his word was law, and that you all would only be allowed to stay as long as he personally wanted you to.
Before grabbing the large brass handle, you hesitated, anxiety flooding your nervous-system, your pulse thumping in your ears. What if he was going to ask you to leave? And then tell you what a disappointment and waste of time you were all of these months?
Instead you shoved down the racing thoughts, gripped your sword tight, put on a brave face, and opened the door.
He was waiting for you on the far side of the room, seated in a plush red velvet and wood chair reading an old leather bound book.
“Come in.” He ordered, with a subtle flick of his hand, not even looking up from the page.
You closed the door behind you and walked toward him, posture straight, shoulders back as you held your head high, trying to act like you weren’t scared out of your wits. You stopped in front of him, crossing your arms behind your back to wait for further instructions.
After he finished reading his page he placed a bookmark to save his spot, and then he finally looked up at you, eyes as piercing and frightening as ever.
“Do you know why I asked you here today, Y/N?”
You tried to swallow a lump that suddenly formed in your throat, your mouth dry. You cleared your throat and spoke up, “B-because I was unable to finish my sparring match today?”
Mihawk closed his book and set it aside, rising from his seat to his full height to tower over you, and look you straight in the eyes, “No, not because of that.”
He stepped even closer, forcing you to crane your neck to hold his gaze, refusing to back down from the slight advance.
Your brows furrowed, your hands clenching and unclenching with a touch of nerves and confusion, “Do you… do you want me to fight you, Sir?”
It was nearly impossible to read the expression on his face most of the time, always so stoic, stern, and serious, so this time you were taken aback by the slight smirk that graced his face for a moment. He turned around, placing his hat on the same side table where he put his book, before walking over to a rack that held several variations of swords. He pondered them for a moment, then picked up a long, slender rapier, one that was quite similar to your own.
“You’re a good fighter, Y/N, but a sword fight would be very one-sided, I’m afraid.”
The way he put that was odd, you thought, while you watched him gracefully swish the sword in a sharp arch over his head, testing the balance of it.
“I’m sorry, Sir, I’m a little bit confused…”
Suddenly, without warning, he lunged at you; the tip of his blade piercing through the air at lightning speed, and it was like you were seeing it happen in slow motion. Without even thinking, you ducked out of the way, rolling back and to the side to create some distance between the two of you.
You leaped up onto your feet, extending your sword just above your head in time to parry his next attack, the clash of metal ringing throughout the room. He swung at you again, narrowly missing your shoulder as you spun around, twisting low to the ground to aim for his knee. He blocked that too, exerting his weight and tremendous strength through the blade, sending you sliding back on the marble floor onto your knees.
“Good, very good,” he drawled, standing up straight once more from his attack position, “Even quicker than this morning, I see.”
You breathed slowly, in through your nose and out of your mouth, trying your best to steady your heart-rate. He had truly taken you by surprise, and you were almost sure you would’ve been dealing with a rather painful puncture wound had you not stepped out of the way in time.
From your new position on the floor, you realized he had barely moved, but somehow had managed to get you to three separate points in the room, all within 10 to 15 feet of each other. Yet he just stood there, looking at the blade he held in his hands, as if he were bored.
That image of him lit a fire under your ass. He was just toying with you, toying with you like he had been doing all damn week, and he looked good while doing it. This stupid man, who was the object of your desire, who you gave up your entire life for to follow his teachings. This stupid man whose approval you craved more than anything else on earth, whose hypnotic voice had crippled your year long streak of concentration, and resolve with only two words. This man, who was so stupid, and tall, and handsome, and perfect and it made you want to scream.
In a sudden fit of rage, a pure lapse in judgement, you rose to your feet and ran at him full force. You darted your blade out forward, first to his right, then left, and up towards his neck while simultaneously crouching down to kick out your leg, a vain attempt to push him off balance. None of it worked; he blocked and out-maneuvered every single slash, blow, and limb that you swiped at him, while not even breaking a sweat.
With an angry shout, you rose your blade above your head to slash down at him one more time, a stupid, childish move that left you extremely open and vulnerable.
Before you even knew it, he parried you, knocking your sword straight from your grasp, causing it to scatter across the room. Then with another sudden movement, he snatched both of your wrists up in one of his large hands, shoved you against the nearest wall, and pinned them above your head.
You expected him to point his blade at your throat, demand that you beg to stay, or possibly tell you to pack your things and get the hell out before he decided to kill you. But he said no such thing, instead he just ended up surprising you again.
“I think that’s quite enough of that,” he said calmly, setting the sword aside to lean on a nearby bookshelf while one of his knees slid between your legs, making your eyes go wide.
Heat shot through you, sparks of pleasure licking up your insides as he gazed down at you. He was close, so close you knew he could see the deep blush that covered your face and neck; so close that he could see your dilated pupils, blown wide with desperate need.
You panicked, attempting to free your arms and squirm away from him before he could figure out how your body was reacting. But it was no use, his grip was too strong, and his other free hand rested on the wall by your waist. He had caged you in, leaving you completely open to him with nowhere to run to or hide.
“Sir p-please, I’m sorry… I – please don’t make me leave…”
And just when you thought nothing else could shock you anymore, once again you were wrong. Dracule Mihawk smiled at you; a teasing, condescending smile, but a smile none the less, as he inched his knee even further between your legs, “Why would I make you leave when I have you exactly where I want you?”
You were at a loss for words, only an involuntary whimper fell from your lips as you went slack, surrendering all will to his control, ready for whatever he was going to do to you.
“You’re one of my star pupils, Y/N,” he whispered, his breath ghosting over your collarbone, leaving goosebumps in their wake, “Your devotion and dedication have not gone unnoticed this past year.”
It felt like your entire body was vibrating on a molecular level, little bursts of heat rolling through your stomach, making your clit throb, aching to be touched. Your eyes fluttered shut, burning every single detail of this moment into your memory.
He pressed himself fully against you, making you gasp as his lips brushed the shell of your ear, “But you can’t scrape by on book smarts and quick reflexes alone. I expect great things of my favorite student.”
You looked up at him, eyes half-lidded, feeling punch drunk and dizzy from his close proximity, “I’m your…favorite?”
In response he smirked at you, his hand finding your waist, thumb grazing over your hipbone, “I know I’ve been cruel this week, but I cannot let the others suspect my favoritism. Let’s keep this between us, yes?”
You nodded dreamily at him as soft shivers tingled under your skin where he touched you, your fingers twitching slightly in his grip, “Y-yes, Sir. I promise I won’t tell anybody.”
“Good girl…” He breathed, and that almost made you cum right then and there. Instead, you bit your lip, trying to stifle the small whimper that poured from your lips.
Finally, he released your hands, causing them to drop weakly to your sides; your knees almost buckling beneath you as he backed away.
“Your training will only get more difficult from here on out, expect to be on your guard at all times now. I don’t want you getting too comfortable.”
He left you dazed as you leaned against the wall, trying to get your bearings while he sat back down in his chair to continue reading his book.
“That is all, Y/N. You are excused.” He said with another wave of his hand, as if your interaction had never even occurred.
With a weak nod you pushed yourself from the wall, your knees still quivering with excitement as you walked past him, picked up your sword, and gently closed the doors behind you.
“Sooo, what happened?” Maryelle had asked as soon as she saw you wandering the corridors hours later, “Are you okay?”
All you could do was shrug, with a gentle shake to your head, attempting to be as nonchalant as possible, “Nothing, we just talked.”
“You just-…you just talked?”
“Yup… we just talked.”
You avoided anyone else for the rest of the day, opting to hike up the hills and train by yourself to relieve your confusion and pent-up frustrations. Later that night, as you got ready for bed, you touched yourself in the shower, biting your wrist while you whimpered and moaned his name, pretending your fingers were his fucking into you while he had you trapped against the wall, fingertips torturing your clit.
The memory of his warm breath tickling your neck, and firm body pressed against yours lulled you to sleep, with those two words echoing in your mind, “Good girl…”
It was finally the end of the long, tortuous week you had endured. As usual, you got up and performed your morning rituals, reading in the courtyard of the training grounds as your peers began trickling in to join you. But much to your and your classmates’ surprise, instead of the normal training session with Mihawk, he announced that he would be going on an excursion for the next week. It had been months since any of you had gotten a break, and he made it a point to tell everyone to actually enjoy the time off.
“My presence is requested by orders of the World Government, which means I will take leave for a week. I suggest you all continue your training on an individual level, but also request that you relax your bodies and minds. One cannot remain sharp without easing one’s troubles every now and then. I only ask that you do not burn the castle to the ground. Anything out of place upon my return, and well…let’s not find out what I would have in store for you all. Class excused.”
As soon as Mihawk left the courtyard, with a swoop of his long coat, and the shadow of his tall figure disappearing down one of the corridors, the entire class bursts out in celebration. Some jumping up and down, cheering and yelling, others immediately beginning to plan for a party and dinner.
Hari and Maryelle come up to you, beaming with excitement.
“A whole week, Y/N can you believe it?!” Maryelle gushes, grabbing your hand to walk along with them, “At least you’ll get a break from his royal jerkiness, yeah?”
“And there’s already a big dinner party being planned for tonight, you’re coming right?” Hari asks.
You were excited to spend more time with your friends, and after the hellish week you had just gone through, you were grateful for some time off, some relief. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel disappointed that you wouldn’t be seeing Mihawk for an entire week, especially after the tantalizing moment you shared with each other in the ballroom yesterday.
With a forced smile you squeeze Maryelle’s hand and wrap your arm around Hari’s shoulders, trying to cover up your disappointment, “Of course I’ll be there! How about we hit the wine cellar as well? I doubt he’ll miss a few of the not-so-vintage bottles.”
They both grin deviously, clapping you on the back, “Now that’s what I’m talking about, you deserve to let loose a little. Maybe we can even find someone to take your mind off that lousy Hawk-eye.”
You roll your eyes, the three of you following the stream of people back into the castle, a glint of knowing in your eye, “You can try, but I doubt it.”
It was now several hours into the evening festivities, Mihawk has only been gone half the day and already the entire class has taken over the dining hall and common room. A few people have even found a set of instruments and are busy keeping a small group dancing. Some are scattered in small circles drunkenly chatting away, others off in pairs, shamelessly making out in the darkened corners of the room, or sneaking away to the dorms for a quickie.
At the beginning of the night you had been glued to Hari and Maryelle’s side, but as the three of you continued to down glass after glass of the rich red wine Mihawk kept the castle stocked with, you could tell that your presence was getting in the way of their drunken flirting. So you left them sitting together on a couch, Maryelle halfway in Hari’s lap.
You pick up your wine glass and make your way back to the kitchen, searching for an unopened bottle to nurse for the rest of the night.
“May I tempt you?” You hear a low voice ask you from behind.
You turn around, and are met with one of your classmates named Raegan, a tall, blond, decently handsome, and talented swordsman you have sparred with on a few occasions. He’s uncorking a bottle, and smiling down at you as he gestures toward your empty glass.
“Oh please! Thank you.” You smile at him, a slight blush on your cheeks as you give him a once over while he pours you a hefty glass.
“Are you enjoying the night, Y/N?” Raegan questions, tone calming and polite, and thankfully not overly intoxicated like almost everyone else.
“I am!” You nod, taking a sip of your wine, “It’s been one hell of a week, so I’m glad we can all relax for a while. Plus it’s so nice to casually socialize, it seems like the only thing we ever talk about is training.”
“I agree with you there,” he laughs softly, leaning closer to you, “Well, you deserve a break after the hard time he’s been giving you recently. I’m assuming everything went okay when you saw him after lunch? A lot of us we pretty worried about you.”
Your heart-rate elevates slightly at the mention of yesterday’s meeting with Mihawk, your cheeks turning an even darker shade of red as you try to push the memories to the back of your mind.
“Y-yes, it went fine. We just had a talk is all, about-… about me making sure I’m living up to my potential,” you stammer, a little flustered.
Raegan leans down, looking closely at your face while he presses the back of his hand to your forehead, “Are you feeling alright? You’re looking a little red, and you feel warm.”
The gentle gesture catches you off guard, causing a small swarm of butterflies to flutter in your stomach for a moment. You’re flattered by his concern, and it has been such a long time since you’ve allowed yourself to freely flirt with anybody, that you forget about your unrequited crush on your teacher for just a moment. So much of your attention has been focused on Mihawk that you forgot to look that way at anyone else.
“Yeah, I’m fine…it’s just the-…it’s just the wine is all.” You giggle as his hand leaves your forehead, fingertips ghosting down the side of your face as he pulls away.
He smiles at you again, picking up the bottle while he nods toward the common room, “Good. Care to sit and finish this off with me then? I’d love your company.”
“Absolutely.”
He leads you out of the kitchen, and you find an unoccupied couch in a back corner, where you can actually hear each other talk.
As the night continues on, and the warm intoxication from the wine begins to settle in, you notice that you have been inching closer and closer to Raegan for the last half hour. Your thighs pressed flush against one another as you flirt shamelessly, touching his leg when you laugh at one of his jokes.
The wine continues to feed your courage, and you find yourself almost half in his lap, his large hand finally settling on your thigh, giving it a warm squeeze.
“I’m glad this happened tonight,” he says, his thumb rubbing back and forth on your inner thigh, “I’ve always wanted to talk to you more, but you’re always so concentrated on training… I never thought someone like you would ever give me the time of day.”
You blush, softly tracing the back of his hand with your fingertips, “I get a little lost in it sometimes… what do you mean someone like me?”
“Someone so dedicated, so humble, and talented…” he leans over and murmurs in your ear, causing a shiver of excitement to run down your spine, and a stirring of butterflies in your tummy, “Someone so absolutely gorgeous.”
You sigh, heart fluttering, Fuck it’s been so long, I need this… His face is so close to yours, shadowed with an intense longing, his gaze looking down from your eyes to your lips. He cradles your jaw in his hand, his thumb swiping over your bottom lip before his eyes flutter shut and he guides his lips to yours.
You sink into the kiss for a moment, your hands gripping at his shirt as your body screams at you for more. But after a few moments you break away, a sudden odd feeling washing over you as Mihawk’s face flashes in your mind.
“I-I’m so-so sorry, Raegan I -,” You stammer, feeling confused and flustered while you gently push at his chest to create some distance.
He looks a little hurt, but mostly concerned as he immediately stops touching you, “It’s okay, really Y/N, I came on a little too strong – …”
“I just need to get some air real quick, okay?” You pick yourself up off the couch and begin to retreat to the hallway, “I’m just going to use the restroom, I’ll be right back.”
Without waiting to hear his reply you stumble out of the common room, away from his sincere eyes and warm touches, feeling a little queasy as you head toward the restroom. There’s a weird pit in the center of your stomach now where pleasure used to be, and you can’t help but feel as if you’ve somehow done something wrong.
Get a grip… you mutter to yourself while you enter the washroom, looking at your reflection for a moment; lips plump from kissing, hair a little wild from where he ran his fingers through it, and cheeks tinged a rosy-pink, both from your excitement and the amount of wine you have consumed.
You relieve yourself and wash up, trying your best to empty your mind. Mihawk wasn’t here, and there was nothing between the two of you anyway. On the other hand, there was a hot, sweet, guy your age in the other room who seemed more than interested in fucking you tonight, and you have every right to indulge in that.
I expect great things of my favorite student… his voice lingers in your memory, and you shake it away as you splash cool water on your face to calm your nerves, before drying your hands and heading back through the corridor.
It’s well into the night, and only a faint trace of light illuminates the dark hallways; a hint of moonlight shining through the windows, and a very distant orange glow from the candles lit in the dining room.
You don’t realize how drunk you are until you’ve left the bathroom, the buzz dulling your vision and coordination as your hand slides against the wall for support. Carefully, you put one foot in front of the other, trying to concentrate on not stubbing your toe or knocking something over.
All of a sudden you feel a shiver go up your spine as a shadow moves out of the corner of your eye, startling you. You spin around, scanning the darkened space in a panic, expecting to have stumbled upon one of your classmates, but no one is there.
With your brow furrowed in confusion, deciding that it was just a trick of the light along with your inebriation, you turn back around to continue forward.
That’s when you feel an arm circle around your waist, pinning your arms to your sides, and a hand grip tightly over your mouth.
Your eyes go wide and you try to scream, but the air is squeezed out of you when you are pulled further back into the hallway; the faint noise you squeak out muffled behind their palm, the heels of your boots dragging silently across the carpet.
Whoever has a hold of you is significantly taller and stronger than you, your struggles doing absolutely nothing against their sheer size and brute strength. Your mind goes into panic mode, the weight of drunkenness slowing your reflexes and sapping away your energy, all ounce of your training gone as you squirm in their arms helplessly.
“My, my, what do we have here? Has a little rabbit lost it’s way?” A deep voice teases, tightening their grip around you more to get you to stop wiggling, “I’d be careful with how you move, little one, I might not be able to control myself,” he purrs into your ear, pressing his pelvis into your ass.
You can feel the bulge in his pants harden as he grinds into you. Heat rushes into your cheeks, flooding through your veins as you whimper into his hand, terrified and turned on at the same time.
“Lucky me, it seems like my little rabbit has had too much to drink,” he drawls in your ear, making your heart thump wildly in your chest, “Makes you nice and pliant for me, doesn’t it? So easy to take advantage.”
He finally removes his hand from your mouth to thread through your hair, forcing your head to the side so he can kiss and bite, sucking dark marks into the tender flesh of your neck.
You go slack in his arms, your strength depleted as you surrender to his will, “P-please, don’t… I-I have someone waiting for me, I won’t tell anyone…”
He licks the shell of your ear, pressing you firm between him and the wall, your back slightly arched, one of his feet kicking your legs a part, “Hmmm, and who would you even tell that would actually believe you?”
Nervously you swallow the lump in your throat in an attempt to sound normal, and not the mixture of scared, horny, and disoriented that you actually feel, “I would tell Sir Mihawk, he-he cares for me, he would believe me. So just let me go, and I promise not to tell him.”
“Is that so?”
To your surprise you are flipped around, your back hitting the wall with a dampened thud as your hands are pinned to either side of your head. In the darkness you see two golden orbs peering down at you, your vision adjusting to the faintly shadowed face of Mihawk.
“Sir?!” You exclaim, completely shocked, “But-but you said you were leaving-…”
“What did I tell you the other day, Y/N, hm?” His grip is tight against your wrists, and his sharp features look even more intimidating and angry in the shadows of the moonlight, “What did I make abundantly clear?”
You wrack your hazy mind for what he could be speaking of, but you can’t seem to think of it. All you can remember is how he felt against you, warm and firm and tantalizing, just as he does now, your body aching to be touched as he whispers to you Good girl, Good Girl, Good Girl…
You bite your lip and press your legs together in desperation, your fingers twitching while you whine, “I’m sorry, I don’t remember…”
“Forgotten already?” He sneers, with a sharp suck to his teeth, “How very disappointed I am in you, Y/N. I’m not gone for even a day and your discipline has completely slipped away. I told you, be on your guard at all times.”
Mentally you slap yourself and squeeze your eyes shut to avoid looking at him, shame sinking into your stomach.
“I warned you not to get too comfortable, that I expect better of you. But what do you do once my back is turned? Get drunk and prowl around looking to get fucked? You think I don’t know what is going on inside my own castle? I know Raegan is waiting for you, waiting to take you to his bed.”
Your eyes snap open wide as you shake your head, “No, no! He-he was nice to me, but nothing hap-…”
But he cuts you off again, and you could swear that he sounds jealous, “Is he the reason why I catch you daydreaming in the middle of training?”
He’s flush against you now, his knee pressed up in between your legs, making you gasp as it nudges your clit through your pants, soaking your panties. His eyes are piercing down at you through the dark, his warm breath ghosting over your lips, his mouth just inches from yours.
“No, Sir, not him. He’s not the one I’m thinking of…”
A moment passes and you see a light flash in his eyes, sudden and intrusive before his lips collide with yours, hungry, possessive, and raw. He nips your bottom lip, causing you to cry out at the sharp pain, silencing you with his tongue as it greedily licks into your mouth.
Pleasure sings through your body, his wicked lips leaving trails of electric ecstasy in their wake while he swallows every gasp and whimper you breathe into him, before finally pulling away.
One of his hands snatches both of your wrists, pinning them above your head while he trails kisses down your neck to your collar bone. His free hand reaches under your shirt to caress up your belly, before cupping one of your breasts in his hands, his thumb and forefinger tugging on the sensitive bud of your nipple.
A moan tears itself from your throat, and you bury your heated face into the side of your arm, embarrassed at how eagerly you are reacting to him, like melted putty in his hands.
He groans softly in response, nipping at your earlobe as his hand wanders further down, fingertips dipping below your waistband.
“Tell me no,” he murmurs, unbuttoning the fly of your pants, and inching down your lower stomach, “Tell me no and I’ll stop.”
The pad of his middle finger caresses you, glides along your slit and up to your aching clit, rubbing little circles through your soft, wet panties. Warmth pools in your tummy, throbbing down to your needy cunt as more slick dribbles out to trail down your quivering thighs.
You’re both staring at each other, half-lidded and slack-jawed, desperate for more as your breath mingles together while he teases you mercilessly.
Tell me no and I’ll stop…
But you don’t want him to stop, only want him to take it further; want him to rip your clothes off, dip his fingers inside, then fuck you so hard against the wall that the entire castle hears you cum on his cock.
The thought makes you ache as you whimper, “Mihawk.”
He smirks down at you, pleased with your reaction while he suddenly withdraws his hand from your pants, making you moan in frustration, “No wait, please don’t stop…”
Your hands are released when he kisses you once more, before backing away to give you space, leaving you wanting.
“I’m afraid our time is up for the night, little rabbit. Meet me in my quarters upstairs after sundown tomorrow, tell no one I am here. Do not be late.”
And just like that he melted into the shadows once more, gone just as fast as he had appeared to you. You have no idea how long you have been gone, the interaction feeling both lightning fast, but also like it had transpired over the course of hours, suspended in time.
Your fingertips brush over your tingling, kiss-swollen lips, the remnants of his touch lingering all along your body; yet being all alone in the dark made it almost feel like it was just a dream.
Slowly you pull yourself together, buttoning back up the front of your trousers and smoothing down your hair and blouse. You glide your hand along the wall again, faster this time since your eyes have adjusted to the darkness.
You walk back into the common room, surprised to see that the celebration has not died down yet, and that Raegan is still waiting for you on the same couch, nursing the same bottle of wine.
His eyes brighten a little when you sit down by him again, though this time you put a little distance between the two of you.
His expression is soft and full of concern as he says, “Hey, Y/N are you okay? I was just about to come looking for you.”
You smile and nod, raking your fingers through your hair a little nervously, “Yeah, I’m so sorry, I had way too much wine…look Raegan, I didn’t mean to - …”
He holds his hand up, cutting you off, “Y/N, I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I came on too strong. I just…I really like you.”
You’re flattered, truly you are, but after what just occurred you know there’s no possibility that anything could ever happen between the two of you now. Dracule Mihawk had laid a claim, and there was no way you could go back.
“Raegan, I like you too. You are gorgeous, seriously, and so sweet…but there is someone else, and that’s not going away any time soon.”
“I understand. They’re lucky whoever they are.”
You smile in response, picking yourself up from the couch once more, your buzz now fading into the realm of exhaustion, “I had a great time with you tonight, but I need to go to bed before I end up on the floor.”
He chuckles, holding his glass up in a toast while you begin to walk towards the doorway, “That’s where I plan on being at the end of the night. Goodnight, Y/N.”
The next day you wake up hung over, two hours past when you normally rise, regretting how much you drank the previous night. You make your way to bathroom, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you turn on the faucet and splash your face.
You look in the mirror, your eyes growing wide when you notice the dark red and purple marks littering up the side of your neck and spread down to the hollow of your collarbone. You groan in frustration, realizing you will have to wear turtle-neck shirts and scarves for the next week to avoid anyone seeing them.
The events of last night rush back through your memory, leaving you reeling. It had all seemed like one big magnificent dream, a perfect fantasy that your mind created. But the evidence is littered all over your skin, and in a moment of panic you remember that you promised to meet him later tonight.
What could he possibly want? Had last night been some sort of trick, some sort of test that you had possibly failed?
For the rest of the day you try your best to not agonize over what awaits you in Mihawk’s study tonight. You take an extra long bath, scrubbing away your hangover, and then sneak down to the dining hall for a late breakfast, with the hopes that you won’t run into anyone there. You’re in luck, as it seems all of your classmates are still sleeping off their night of debauchery.
You pack a small bag and head up to the hills behind the castle to be alone, where you read, eat toast and jam, and practice a little bit with your sword. Eventually the day has gotten away from you, and you are shocked when you realize that the sun will set in less than an hour.
Anxiety quickens your heart beat while you gather your things and make your way down to the castle again, admiring the sky bathing the island in reds, oranges, pinks and purples. You wish it wouldn’t end, because for all you know it could be the last time you see the sunset on Gloom island. For all you know you made a terrible mistake last night and he would be throwing you out.
You walk quickly through the hallways, avoiding every single person you pass until you get to your bedroom. You put your sword away in your closet, and give yourself a once over in the mirror. With a sigh you gather your courage, pushing down the mixture of fear and excitement that rolls in your stomach as you make your way up the stairs.
The last bit of light has faded beyond the horizon of the island, shadowing the castle in a dark, eerie blue that creeps in from the hallway windows of the upper floor. You had never been in any of the rooms up here before, everyone knew the top floor was out of bounds to the students, that it was all private to Mihawk.
At first you were not sure which door to knock on, seeing as he hadn’t been very specific. But that’s when you saw a faint strip of light glowing from under a massive set of ornately carved wooden doors.
Slowly you walk up to the doorway, your heart beating in your throat, palms sweaty from nerves. After a moment of hesitation, you squeeze your eyes shut and knock twice.
The light between the cracks of the doors flickers slightly before they open, revealing Mihawk’s piercing eyes staring down at you. He opens the door all the way once he sees that it’s you, and steps to the side to allow you in.
“Please, come in Y/N.”
You bow your head a little, ducking past him in an attempt to hide the blush that’s deepening across your cheeks, his eyes never leaving you. He closes the door behind you, making goosebumps erupt across your skin with a flash of excitement as he brushes behind your back momentarily, before walking over to a chair by his fireplace.
You look around the room, taking in how gorgeous it is. It’s just his style, all black and red velvet, lavish four post bed, intricate rugs and a large fireplace that lights the entire room a glow. It looks overwhelmingly romantic.
“Uhm, Sir?” You say, lacing and twiddling your fingers together nervously, “Did I…was last night some kind of test?”
There is a pause in the air while Mihawk pours himself a glass of wine, swirling and savoring it with a gentle sip, before his eyes lock onto yours, predatory and serious.
“A test? What kind of test would that be, hm?”
He moves toward you, slowly, his tall form casting a long shadow over you. You bite your lip, and inch back subconsciously, unable to look him in the eyes as he continues his advance.
“I-I’m not sure…” You mutter, glancing up to see him circle around you, “This past week has been so-so… confusing.”
He smirks down at you after taking another sip of his wine, nonchalantly swirling it, eyeing the red liquid as if bored; as if he had no clue how questionable and different your relationship had been lately.
“Whatever do you mean, Y/N? I think I’ve made my intentions abundantly clear.”
Your brows furrow together, and you wipe your perspiring hands against your shirt as he continues to circle you like a hawk, “You’ve been testing me, I’m sure of it…testing my will-power, my patience.”
Mihawk stops in his tracks behind you, and you feel an electric shock pulse up your spine when he caresses the back of your shoulders, making you gasp softly in surprise when he murmurs in your ear, “Is that so? Well then, how do you think you’re doing so far?”
You shiver, eyes fluttering while his fingertips continue their gentle exploration of your neck, hair, and shoulders, “You haven’t thrown me out yet… do you test all of your students this way?”
Your body goes lax when you feel his arms snake around your waist, pressing the front of his body to your back, his lips brushing along the shell of your ear, “No, just you… I knew you were special the moment I laid my eyes on you.”
You shut your eyes and bite your lip, your heart thumping so loud you can feel it in your ears. With a slight moment of hesitation you slowly bring your hand up behind you, and dare to run your fingers through his thick, dark hair. You hear him sigh, and his head relaxes on your shoulder as the two of you hold one another; but it doesn’t last long as he withdraws from you, wandering back over near the fireplace to sit in his black velvet chair.
His eyes are back on you with that predatory look once more, gazing at you over the lip of his wine glass while he takes another sip, un-blinking.
You’re speechless, your skin tingling where he touched you, your core fluttering as you press your legs together, wetness flooding your panties. His eyes look you up and down, his pupils blown wide, making you blush when it looks like he’s enjoying watching you squirm.
Suddenly he puts his wine down, and sits on the edge of his seat, elbows on his knees, looking you in the eye and firmly saying, “Take off your clothes.”
Your eyes go wide and your mouth opens in shock, thinking he can’t possibly be serious, “Wh-what?”
“You heard me, Y/N. Take off your clothes.”
You fold your arms tight to your body, and bite your lip, shaking your head, “Is this… this is another test isn’t it?”
“I wonder, or do you think we’re possibly past that now?” He drawls, one of his eyebrows quirked up in a faux-puzzled expression, “Now I don’t like to be kept waiting, Y/N. I said take off your clothes.”
Heat floods you head to toe, head reeling, his authoritative words ringing in your ears. His eyes are fixed on you, stern and swimming with impatience.
Your body slightly trembles as you play with the hem of your shirt, debating on whether or not you are going to obey him. You’ve never disobeyed an order from him before, and your body aches for him, is screaming at you to strip and offer yourself. But there is still a seed of doubt in your mind, a fear that if you blindly debase yourself for him that he will be disgusted by you.
In the end, your carnal desires win when you lift your shirt over your head and drop it to your feet, your boots and pants coming off next until you are left in your bra and panties, skin tinged pink with a mixture of excitement and embarrassment as he stares at you.
“Come here,” he beckons, twitching his fingers in a come-hither motion, his yellow eyes almost black while his blown-out pupils rake over your body.
You obey, stumbling forward slightly, your knees knocking together while you look at the floor to avert his searing gaze. You stop about a foot away from him, the heat from the fireplace warming you, the light from the flames dancing along your exposed skin.
Finally you look up at him once more, the fire flickering back in his eyes, making him look even more dangerous than he normally does. He takes a deep breath, his teeth raking his bottom lip before he says, “Take off all of your clothes.”
You shiver at his tone, deep and serious, a wave of arousal rolling through your tummy. You expected that he would ask this, but in the back of your mind you didn’t think he would go this far.
Every limit you ever thought you had is surpassed the moment you unhook your bra and abandon it on the floor, your breasts perking up as they are exposed to the open air; your panties soon after being tugged down your legs and kicked away.
Mihawk is on the edge of his seat, staring you down with a possessive and heated look when he finally speaks again, “Now, get down on your knees.”
You blush furiously, but comply, sinking down to your knees on the plush carpet in front of him, covering your breasts with your arms and pressing your thighs together to maintain some level of modesty.
That makes him smirk, a light laugh exhaling from his lips, “Don’t be shy, be a good girl and spread your legs for me, then put your hands behind your back.”
You whimper, your limbs shaking a little when you sit up on your knees and spread your legs, revealing your glistening pussy while you cross your arms behind your back. There’s no going back now, no where to hide yourself as you kneel completely bare before him.
Mihawk licks his lips in response, giving you a once over, looking like a hawk about to devour his prey, but only after playing with it just a little.
“You like this, don’t you, Y/N?” He asks with a devious smile while he eye-fucks you, paying special attention to your chest and cunt, reveling in how delirious with arousal you’ve become.
You bite your lip, your body trembling as heat licks up your insides. In response to his question you nod, no use lying about it now that the want is fully on display, leaking out of you.
He grins and gets up from his chair, circling around you once more before he leans down on one knee to get eye-level with you, gently grazing his hand along your collarbone, before tucking a stray hair behind your ear.
“If I feel between your legs, how wet are you going to be for me? Or should we just wait to see if you make a mess of my carpet?”
You bite back a moan, your nails digging into your forearms behind your back, your heart pounding wildly in your chest, your clit throbbing at his words. The fear of him being right shoots heat right through your veins, and at this rate you would start dripping. The thought visibly flushes your face and the tips of your ears a dark crimson color.
His hand is now on your thigh, creeping further and further towards your slick center, his lips ghosting along the underside of your jaw as he does so, making you shiver with need, “Would you like me to check?”
You let out a shaky breath when he pulls back to look into your eyes, pondering and searching for any hesitation while his fingers continue their journey, “Tell me no…” He says, just like he said in the dark hallway the night before, “Tell me no, and I’ll stop.”
His face is even closer to yours now, the ghost of a kiss just an inch from your lips. You shake your head, pressing your forehead to his, pleading, “Please… Please don’t stop.”
He caresses one of your breasts, thumb stroking over a hardened nipple, causing you to pant, your breath tickling over his face, his other hand gripping your hip, “Tell me, little rabbit… why have you continued to humiliate yourself for me this entire week? Why have you let me treat you this way in front of the others, and in private?”
“I-I…” You try to find the words, your mind numb with pleasure, your nerves alight as his touch electrifies you, and then the realization even surprises you, “I like it. I like the way it makes me feel. You’re my teacher, my master, my Sir… I like it when you control me.”
His smile is wicked, pleased with your answer, and that’s when he finally touches you, just barely, and your pussy is dripping slick. You whine as ecstasy rolls through your body, his fingertip exploring your drenched folds.
“What a naughty rabbit you are… I knew what a good, little pet you would be the first time I ever saw you,” He purrs in your ear, spreading your wetness around your stiff clit, “Perhaps I should have the other students come in, since you like this so much. Have them watch and learn what it’s like to be truly obedient.”
Your eyes widen in horror, your body uncontrollably trembling in his hands, but still you hold your position, “N-no, Sir, p-please don’t!”
It’s then that he kisses you, never once stopping his exploration; the movements on your clit increasing while he ravages your lips, his slick tongue invading your mouth to slide over your own wet muscle. You keen into his mouth, opening even wider as you drink each other in with wild abandon.
He finally breaks away, chuckling lowly, “Just teasing you, pet, I wouldn’t dream of it. From here on out you are mine. All mine. Is that understood?”
You nod, dazed as you press your face into the side of his neck, “Yes, Sir… that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
Your fate is sealed with another kiss when his fingers finally enter you, curling up to fuck into that sensitive spot inside that makes you see stars. You cry out into his mouth as he alternates between scissoring his thick fingers into your cunt, and rubbing them over your clit, rocketing you hard and fast towards your orgasm.
“I’m sure those poor knees of yours are getting awfully sore, darling. I’ll reward you and make all of the aches and pains go away if you can cum just like this.” He says, lips brushing over your ear, his goatee tickling your jaw.
You moan, your head thrown back while he begins to nip and suck at your neck, leaving marks of pleasurable pain in his wake as he keeps continuous pressure on your clit, rubbing small circles into the wet bundle of nerves. Heat and pressure is slowly building in your tummy, a tight knot threatening to snap as pure rapture bleeds through your body, pumping hot in your veins.
“Mihawk, Sir… plleeeeaase.”
“Mmm, such a good girl. So soft, and pliant and wet.”
His praise fuels the fire in your belly, your thighs shaking with desperation as his fingers never cease their relentless pace; a little puddle of your arousal coats his hand and dampens the carpet below. The pressure continues to build, your skin flushed pink, your warm, drenched cunt clenching around nothing when his fingers overstimulate your clit.
“You’ve been such a good girl, my little rabbit. You deserve to feel good after all I’ve put you through. Now cum for me.”
You pant into his neck, chest heaving as you whimper, your eyes squeezed shut as the pressure inside you overflows, tension snapping. You twitch in his embrace while your orgasm overwhelms you, feeling yourself flutter and gush on his hand, your entire body pulsing in time with your rapidly beating heart.
“Messy little thing,” he teases, extending the fingers he used to pleasure you to your lips, “Looks like I was right about you making a mess. But don’t worry about that now, be a good girl and clean me up.”
You suck on his slick digits obediently, trembling from your orgasm while pressed flush against him. He pulls apart your arms that have been folded behind your back, nudging them to wrap around his neck. After cleaning your wetness from his fingers he cradles your face, pressing tender kisses to your mouth and cheeks.
“So perfect, you did so good for me, Y/N,” he coos while he gathers you up in his arms, getting you off the position on your knees to his lap, “Always so perfectly obedient, doing exactly what I say.”
His praise puts you on cloud nine, adoration and devotion radiating through you; still aglow from your orgasm as you snuggle to his chest. He picks you up and swiftly begins to make his way over to his bed, reigniting your excitement and arousal for the reward he promised you.
“And good girls who listen…” He says, before throwing you onto the bed on your back, and immediately gripping your thighs to pull them a part, “…get rewarded for their impeccable behavior.”
He towers over you on the edge of the bed, almost folding you in half, your ankles close to your ears. His hands have you spread open wide, leaking cunt on full display, thumb toying with the hood of your clit before he licks up your slit.
You gasp out a whine, your hands flying to tangle in his hair. His eyes are fixed on yours, half-lidded, pupils still blown with insatiable desire while he eats you out, alternating between lapping at your clit and tonguing your drenched opening.
Your second orgasm hits you by surprise, his expert ministrations flooding you with euphoria as you bite your lip to keep from screaming; your nails digging firm against his scalp while you rut against his face.
“Mm, exquisite,” he hums once you’ve gone slack again, twitching in the afterglow while he crawls up your body, “I think your delicious cunt was made for my tongue.”
His black facial hair glistens in the firelight on his jaw when he licks his lips, leaning over you till you are face to face once more, breath mingling, “I’m sure it was made for my cock as well.”
“Sir please!” You sob, keeping yourself wide open for him, “Please, I need it so bad! Please fuck me…”
He grins down at you, face darkened by the flickering shadows of the room, caressing your cheek, and wiping away a stray tear that falls from the corner of your eye. Then he kisses you, all tongue and teeth, wet with your spit and slick on his lips.
Once he pulls away he sits back up, thumb hooked into the waistband of his pants, the outline of his cock bulging against his leg. You whine once more, squirming with need, and when he takes off all of his clothes it makes you throb. He’s the biggest you’ve ever seen: long, thick, and heavy, red at the tip and leaking precum.
“I know, little rabbit, I know,” He says lowly, stroking himself while he positions between your legs, “I’ll give it to you. Are you going to be a good girl and take it all?”
Your eyes are wide, your body shaking. It’s been a long time since you’ve had anyone inside you, and never someone his size before, but you nod, “Yes, Sir, I-I can take it...”
“Good girl.”
And then he’s pushing into you, stuffing the tip of his dick into your dripping cunt, and even with the amount of lubrication your body has created for you, the feeling of being split open sucks the air right out of your lungs. He grabs your legs and hoists your ankles over his shoulders, driving his hips down with a quick thrust to fully sheath himself inside of you. The motion makes you cry out and claw at the bedding, your body completely encased by his as he folds you, then begins an utterly ruthless pace.
Never have you been so full before, stretched to capacity while he fucks into you, staring down at you with fierce concentration, as if he were dueling you in a swordfight. He watches you fall apart entirely, tears streaming down your face while you cry and whimper his name, and every other little sound of pleasure and pain in between.
His cock touches every inch inside of you, pounding your G-spot with a fierceness that makes you feel like you are going to black out. Every cell in your body seems to scream and sing in unison when he finally reaches down and flicks at your clit, sending you into an immersion of pain and ecstasy that you didn’t know could possibly exist as you cum hard around his cock.
The two of you pant in unison, him stilling inside of you to give you a moment to come back to reality once more. Your body is thrumming with overstimulation, blood rushing wildly through your veins as his face swims in your vision. He’s biting his lip, concentrating on not cumming inside of you as he begins to pull out of your slick heat.
“Such a good girl for me, taking my cock so well,” His praise washes over you again, easing the ache of his dick withdrawing from you, “But I’m not through with you yet, little rabbit.”
Suddenly your legs are removed from their perch on his shoulders, and you cry out when you are flipped over onto your stomach. He manhandles you onto your hands and knees, soothing his hand along your spine so you arch your back.
“I think I’ve been more than generous with my reward, don’t you?”
He grabs you by the hair, forcing your head back so he can look into your eyes, making your back arch even more. You whimper at the rough treatment, exhausted from the amount of pleasure ripped from your body, but obediently you look into his glowing eyes and nod.
“Y-yes Sir, thank you, thank you so much.”
He grins his devious smile once more, kissing you hard on the mouth before releasing your hair and withdrawing behind you, “I think that means I deserve my own reward then.”
Without warning he slaps you on the ass, making you gasp in surprise and shrink a little onto the bed.
“Tsk, tsk,” he vocalizes with a suck to his teeth, gripping your hip so you return back to your position, “None of that, you want to make your Sir feel good, don’t you?”
“Yes, I’m sorry!” You cry, burying your face into the sheets, “I’ll be good.”
He caresses your hips and massages the small of your back, before you feel him spread the cheeks of your ass and rub his cock over your puckered hole. The sensation makes you stiffen, but you resist the urge to shy away.
“Such a gorgeous ass, I’m sure it would feel like heaven to have it sucking around my cock.”
The thought simultaneously turns you on and makes you want to cry. Taking someone back there was something you had never done before, and thinking about him impaling you on his huge cock tonight after already being so tired and used, terrified you.
He continues to rub his dick through the cleft of your ass, as if waiting for you to respond. Not wanting to disappoint your Sir, you gather your courage, and turn around a bit shyly to look at him, tears glistening in your eyes.
“You can do whatever you want to me, Sir… I just want to make you feel good. You can…y-you can fuck my ass, if that’s what you want.”
Mihawk’s jaw tightens and he groans, his eyes seeming to flash before he licks his lips, “You truly are the sweetest pet a man could ask for. While that offer is tempting, rabbit, I will not do it tonight. I do not wish to hurt you, that is going to require some training, and believe me I will be training you. But for now…”
He maneuvers himself swiftly, dragging his tip through your pussy folds, coating his cock in your slick before thrusting into you once more, bottoming out. You moan into the bedsheets, spreading your legs further as he begins to fuck you from behind, his hips snapping fast and hard, loud sounds of skin slapping each other filling the room and ringing in your ears.
“From now on you’re mine,” he pants, his fingertips bruising into your hips and thighs, “If anyone else touches you again, I’ll fucking kill them.”
You whine in agreement, unable to use your words while your body is pounded into the bed, rattling the entire structure, slick dripping down your thighs as his balls slap against your clit.
“My perfect little student, so good for me,” He growls, grabbing your hair again and slapping your ass, his hips beginning to stutter, his speech becoming more frenzied, “Say you’re mine, say who punishes, fucks, and lets you cum.”
“I’m all yours! I belong to you!” You cry out, your neck straining back, eyes fluttering as he continuously fills you from head to base, “Mihawk, Mihawk!”
“Little rabbit, all mine. Mine to use, pleasure, and humiliate. Because. She. Likes. It.” He enunciates the words with four sharp, drawn out thrusts of his cock, “And if you don’t cum on my cock right now, you won’t for another week. That’s a promise.”
He reaches down and slaps your clit, once, twice, then three times, each one harder than the last while he pumps into you. Your eyes roll back into your head, your body buzzing as it takes control for you and obeys him, your pussy pulsing and gushing around his cock while you cum for the last time.
The feeling of your pussy clenching and releasing does him in; with a bite to your shoulder and a deep moan he empties himself inside of you, splashing his hot cum inside your velvety womb.
Bliss overtakes you when you collapse onto the plush bed, cheek pressed firm into the silk sheets while Mihawk pants against your neck, riding the aftermath waves of his orgasm.
After a few moments of composing himself, he comes back to reality; with gentle words and soft kisses he unsheathes himself from your body, and wraps you in his arms.
“Y/N, dear Y/N, are you alright?” He asks softly, brows furrowed with concern.
You’re an absolute wreck: cheeks flushed, skin damp with sweat, eyes shut. But your heart-rate has begun to return to normal, your breathing evening out while you press your face to his chest.
“Yes, Sir, yes… so good, so very good…” You smile, happy, giddy, and exhausted all at once. Sticky between the thighs, but relaxed and satisfied.
He kisses you on the forehead, smoothing back your wild sex hair for you, tucking the stray hairs out of your face.
“It seems like we have a lot to talk about, Y/N… I meant when I said that I intend for you to be mine.”
The confession makes your heart flutter, warmth and adoration surging through your veins as you turn over to face him, “I would very much like to talk about that, Sir…”
Another one of his devious smirks lights up his eyes, his hands groping over your thigh and ass, “Good, we’ll have all week to discuss the details, all by ourselves, my little rabbit.”
You give him a puzzled look, “What do you mean all week, Sir?”
He looks so smug, so pleased with himself while he stares you in the eyes and gazes over your face; his thumb tracing over your bottom lip, causing your mouth to slightly part.
“Did you tell anyone that I have not left the castle?”
“No, of course not,” You answer earnestly, wanting him to know you would never disobey his orders.
“By chance did you tell anyone where you were going?”
“N-no…”
The realization hits and you feel embers of arousal ignite in your core, your mind reeling with the promise of untold pleasures.
“Then for 6 more days, pet, you’re all mine. All mine, to play with, and more.”