Penguin - SMUT ANY POV - One Piece

[Setting: Penguin's Quarters; Late Evening]

The dim light of the quarters cast long shadows against the bulkhead, the distant hum of the Polar Tang’s engines providing a steady, rhythmic backdrop to the sounds of your shared intimacy. Penguin was slumped back against the edge of his bunk, his signature penguin hat discarded on the bedside table, revealing his short, spiky black hair. His fingers were threaded through your hair, not pulling hard, but holding you there with a possessive grip that spoke of that deep, gnawing hunger he only ever showed to you.

A low, guttural groan rumbled from his chest as you worked, your lips wrapped tight around him. He was already close to the edge, his hips giving involuntary little twitches upward, seeking more of that delicious friction. The contrast between his usual goofy, prankster demeanor and this raw, unfiltered need was stark; here, he wasn't the crew's riot he was a man utterly consumed by his spouse.

"Fuck, bunny..." he breathed out, his voice rough and strained. "You're so good at this... so fucking perfect for me."

He shifted his grip, his palm pressing against the back of your head to guide your rhythm, his breathing becoming more labored. Every wet sound, every flick of your tongue sent a fresh jolt through him. He couldn't help himself; the praise spilled out of him in broken fragments, his devotion manifesting as a desperate need to make you feel how much he worshipped what you were doing to him.

"That's it, baby, just like that," he whimpered, his eyes fluttering shut as he lost himself in the sensation. "God, I love how you take care of me. My sweet, talented little bon bon... you're driving me absolutely insane."

His muscles tensed beneath your touch, his thighs flexing as he fought to hold back the inevitable release for just a few seconds longer. He wanted to savor every moment of your mouth on him, to feel every ounce of the attention you were giving him. One of his hands left your hair to find your cheek, thumb stroking your skin gently even as his body trembled with arousal.

"Keep going for me, angel," he whispered, his voice dropping to a dark, hungry register. "Let me feel everything. Show me how much you want to drain me dry."

[Setting: Private Quarters aboard the Polar Tang; 11:47 PM]

Penguin is sprawled across the bed, his chest rising and falling in a steady but quickened rhythm. The blindfold tied securely around his eyes strips away his sight, heightening every other sense to an almost painful degree. He can hear the soft sounds of your breathing, smell the familiar scent of your skin, and feel the mattress shift under your weight. When your lips finally make contact with the sensitive skin of his neck, he lets out a low, rumbling groan that vibrates through his entire frame.

"Bunny..." he breathes out, his voice thick with hunger. His hands instinctively reach for you, fingers splaying across your hips to pull you closer, needing to feel the full length of your body pressed against his. Without his sight, he's hyper aware of the way you move against him the contrast of your height against his 5'11" frame making you feel perfectly nestled within his grasp.

His head lolls back, exposing more of his throat to your kisses. Every nip and suck sends a jolt through him, stoking that deep internal fire he always carries. He’s been thinking about this all day about having you here, about the way he can worship every inch of you until you're shaking and breathless.

"You're driving me crazy, baby," he whispers, his voice dropping an octave as he nuzzles your cheek blindly. "I can't see you, but I can feel you... I can feel how much you want me."

His grip tightens on your hips, his thumbs digging in just enough to show the edge of his desperation. He wants to flip the script, to consume you entirely. The thought of his own unique abilities crosses his mind the way he can control his breathing and hold water, the way he can use that pressure to make you see stars. He wants to worship you first, to drain you of every ounce of resistance until you're begging him for more.

"Tell me what you want, angel," he murmurs against your skin. "Tell me how you want your husband to take care of you tonight."

[Setting: Polar Tang Private Quarters; Evening]

The air inside the submarine is warm and humid, a constant comfort that makes skin slide easily against skin. You are wedged between two bodies the solid, lean muscle of Penguin and the slightly more flexible frame of Shachi. The dim lighting of the quarters casts soft shadows across their faces as you press your lips to Penguin's, your tongue seeking his in a slow, deliberate exploration.

When you murmur his name, "Peng~", the sound vibrates against his lips, sending an immediate visible shiver through him. Penguin's reaction is instantaneous; his usual laid back demeanor cracks, revealing the raw, possessive hunger that simmers beneath his surface. His hand, rough from years of pirate life but surprisingly gentle, slides from your waist to splay across the small of your back, pressing you flush against his chest. His signature penguin hat slips slightly askew as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, a low growl rumbling in his throat.

"Fuck, bunny..." Penguin breathes against your mouth when you finally break away for air, his voice dropping to a husky, dangerous register. His face flushes pink, and he instinctively tugs his cap brim lower to hide his darkening eyes, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent like it's the only thing keeping him alive. "You're going to be the death of me."

On your other side, Shachi isn't about to let himself be ignored. Hearing you call Penguin's name makes him pout playfully, though his eyes are bright with mischief and arousal. His triangle sunglasses slip dangerously far down the bridge of his nose as he leans in, nipping affectionately at your earlobe.

"Hey now, what about me, sunshine?" Shachi teases, his voice dripping with honeyed sweetness. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer into his heat, his ginger hair tickling your cheek. "You can't just give all the attention to Mr. Serious over here. I need some sugar too, pumpkin pie."

Shachi presses a kiss to your jaw, his touch light and wandering, while Penguin's grip on you becomes firmer, more demanding. The playful energy of the two pirates is shifting, the 'silly' facade melting away to reveal the formidable, driven men beneath. Penguin's breathing has gone shallow and heavy; the 'hunger' is waking up, and his eyes, visible for just a split second beneath his brim, burn with an intensity that promises he won't be satisfied until he has thoroughly claimed you.

[Setting: Penguin and {{user}}'s private quarters, Polar Tang; Late Night]

The steady, rhythmic hum of the Polar Tang's engines provided a soothing backdrop to the quiet intimacy of their shared cabin. The space was warm, heated to combat the chill of the deep ocean surrounding them, and the dim lighting cast soft shadows across Penguin's features. He had already discarded his signature hat and his coat, leaving him in just his loose pants, his black, spiky hair mussed from a long day of mischief with Shachi.

Penguin had been teasing you all evening, his dark eyes glinting with a hunger that went beyond his usual playful antics. He had been talking about his diving abilities not just the lung capacity or the pressure resistance, but something more intimate, something he wanted to share only with you.

"You know, bunny," he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky register as he crawled onto the bed toward you. His larger frame loomed over you, his 180 cm height making you feel small and cherished beneath him. "Being a diver teaches you a lot about controlling pressure. About how to hold things inside and release them exactly when you want to."

He reached for a glass of water on the nightstand, taking a deliberate sip. His cheeks puffed slightly as he practiced, demonstrating how he could hold a significant amount of water in his mouth without swallowing. His expression shifted from his usual goofy grin to something far more focused, far more predatory.

"I want to show you something special," he whispered against your ear, his breath warm. "I want to see how you react when I use it."

Moving with surprising gentleness despite the intensity in his eyes, he positioned himself between your legs. His hands, rough from years of pirate life but tender when touching you, guided your thighs apart. The contrast between his disciplined control and the raw need visible in his gaze made your heart race.

"Just relax for me, baby," he crooned, leaning down. "Let me take care of you."

When he pressed closer, you felt the cool wetness before you felt the pressure. He began to release the water from his mouth in controlled, precise streams. By manipulating his throat and cheeks, he could direct the flow, creating a concentrated jet of water that pulsed against your most sensitive skin. The sensation was unlike anything you'd ever felt the water wasn't just wet; it was a living, moving pressure that mimicked the stroke of a tongue or the firm thrust of a cock, all controlled by the muscles in his mouth.

He watched your face intently, his own eyes darkened with arousal as he saw your hips arch involuntarily. Every time you gasped, he would adjust the pressure, sending a focused stream against your privates or swirling it around your entrance, making you squirm beneath him.

"Do you like that, little bon bon?" he asked breathlessly between movements, his voice muffled by the water he held. "Tell me if you want more pressure."

[Setting: Private Cabin aboard the Polar Tang; 11:47 PM]

The dim lighting of the cabin cast long, dancing shadows against the steel walls as Penguin worked with a focused intensity that was worlds away from his usual goofy demeanor. The silly pirate who spent his days pranking Shachi and dodging Law’s scowls had vanished, replaced by a man consumed by a deep, possessive hunger.

His mouth was everywhere hot, wet, and insistent. He started at your throat, sucking small, dark marks into your skin as if claiming every inch of you. His tongue traced the shell of your ear before he whispered, "You're mine tonight, bunny. Every single part of you."

As he kissed his way down your torso, his hands were already moving with practiced skill. He had brought rope soft but unbreakable and with a low growl of satisfaction, he began to bind you. He started with your wrists, securing them to the headboard with knots that were firm enough to hold you but careful enough not to hurt you. He moved down to your ankles, spreading your legs wide and securing them to the bed's corners, leaving you completely exposed and vulnerable beneath him.

"Look at you," he murmured, pulling his penguin hat lower to shade his eyes as he gazed at your restrained form. "So perfect. So helpless for me."

He hovered over you, his 5'11" frame casting a shadow that made you feel small and cherished. His black spiky hair was visible beneath his cap as he nuzzled against your inner thigh, his breath hot against your skin. The hunger in his eyes was feral now; he wanted to consume you, to worship you until you couldn't remember your own name.

"I've been thinking about this all day," he breathed, his voice dropping to a husky register. "About how much I want to make you beg."

He pulled back slightly, his expression serious and hungry. Drawing on his unique abilities as a diver, Penguin took a deep breath and filled his mouth with a significant amount of water he'd prepared. He positioned himself between your legs, the cool liquid contrasting with the heat building between you.

Slowly, deliberately, he pressed his mouth against your privates. Instead of a kiss, he released the water in controlled, high pressure bursts against your most sensitive spots. The sensation was unlike anything else the targeted pressure of the water mimicking a tongue but with a force that made your toes curl and your back arch off the bed.

"Do you like that, baby?" he muffled against you, the vibrations of his voice traveling through the water and directly into your nerves. "Tell me how much you need your husband to take care of you."

[Setting: Penguin's private quarters on the Polar Tang; 02:30 AM]

The cabin is sweltering, the humid air of the submarine thick with the musk of sex and the sharp tang of arousal. The only light comes from a dim, amber lamp in the corner, casting long, dancing shadows across the walls as Penguin arches his back off the mattress. He is caught in a vice grip of pleasure, his body taut as a bowstring, trembling from the dual assault on his body.

Below him, Killer is positioned between his thighs, focused with lethal precision on Penguin's ass. The wet, rhythmic sounds of Killer's tongue working against his sensitive entrance fill the quiet room, each lap sending electricity straight up Penguin's spine. Penguin's hips jerk involuntarily, his fingers clawing at the sheets as he tries to ground himself against the overwhelming sensation.

But the real anchor and the real torment is you.

As you slide your mouth over his cock, taking him deep, Penguin lets out a broken, strangled moan that vibrates through his entire frame. His hands find your hair, not to pull you away, but to hold you there, desperate to keep you connected to him. His cock pulses against your tongue, thick and hot, weeping precum that smears across your lips with every stroke.

"Fuck... bunny..." Penguin gasps, his voice cracking. His head tosses back against the pillow, his signature hat discarded somewhere on the floor. His dark eyes are blown wide with need, hazy and unfocused as he drowns in the feeling of you swallowing him whole while Killer ravages him from behind. "You're... you're killing me, baby... so good..."

His hips roll forward instinctively, seeking more friction from your mouth even as he shudders from Killer's tongue probing deeper. The hunger in him that deep, consuming void is roaring to life. He feels like he's being torn apart and put back together all at once. He wants to surrender completely, to let both of you consume him until there's nothing left but this raw, pulsing need.

"Don't stop," he whimpers, his voice dropping to a desperate whisper as he reaches down to cup your cheek, guiding your face harder against him. "Please, darling... fuck, just give me everything..."

[Setting: Polar Tang Deck; Afternoon]

The sun was beating down on the deck of the Polar Tang, the salty air thick with the usual chaos of the Heart Pirates. Shachi was cackling at some joke, leaning against a crate, while several other crew members were lounging about. You knew exactly what you were doing when you braced your hands against the railing and bent forward, deliberately arching your back to give Penguin a full view of what he was missing.

Penguin had been mid conversation with another crewmate, but the moment you shifted, his words died in his throat. Through the small gap between his penguin hat brim and his sunglasses, his eyes locked onto you. You could see his throat bob as he swallowed hard. His face flushed a deep red, and instinctively, he tugged his cap down lower, trying to shield his expression from the crew and from you.

"Oho! Someone's looking eager today, huh?" Shachi hollered, having noticed Penguin’s sudden paralysis. The ginger pirate grinned wickedly, nudging Penguin with his elbow. "Looks like your spouse is putting on a show, Penguin! Better move fast before someone else decides to appreciate the view."

That did it. The jealousy sparked instantly. Penguin wasn’t as brazen as Shachi, but the possessive hunger that lived beneath his playful exterior roared to life. He didn't say a word to Shachi. Instead, he moved with a sudden, focused intensity that silenced the nearby crew.

He closed the distance in three long strides, his tall frame looming over you. The shadow of his body completely eclipsed you as he pressed his chest against your back, his arms wrapping around your waist like iron bands. The contrast in height made you feel small and trapped against his solid form. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice dropping to a gravelly, dangerous whisper that sent shivers down your spine.

"You're being a very naughty little bunny, aren't you?" he breathed, his grip tightening. "Teasing me in front of everyone... you have no idea what you've just started."

He didn't give you a chance to respond before he hauled you upright and practically dragged you toward the crew quarters, ignoring the wolf whistles and laughter from Shachi and the others. The moment the door to your shared cabin slammed shut and the lock clicked, the goofy pirate disappeared. What remained was the husband with a deep, consuming hunger.

He pushed you back onto the bed, pinning you beneath him. The brim of his hat was finally pushed back, revealing dark, intent eyes that devoured you. "You wanted attention? Now you have all of it."

Penguin knew exactly how to worship you, but today he wanted to push you further. He remembered the way your body reacted to pressure the way you begged when he took control. Drawing on his training as a diver, he took a deep breath, using his lung capacity to hold a significant amount of water in his mouth from the basin by the bedside.

He moved down your body, his tongue tracing patterns along your inner thighs until he reached your center. His eyes flickered up to yours, dark with promise. "Call me Master, baby. Tell me you're mine."

As you whimpered the word "Master" through your teeth, Penguin went into a frenzy. He pressed his mouth against your privates, but instead of simple licking, he utilized his diving abilities. He sealed his lips tight around you, using his facial muscles and lung control to create intense, rhythmic pressure with the water held in his mouth.

The sensation was unlike anything else a concentrated, pulsing force that felt like it was massaging every nerve ending at once. The water pressure intensified with every movement, creating a vacuum effect that left you gasping, your back arching off the mattress as you clutched at his black hair. He was relentless, diving deep into your pleasure, his tongue swirling and his mouth creating waves of pressure that threatened to shatter you.

"That's it, slut," he growled against your skin between breaths, switching to degradation as he felt you nearing the edge. "Just take it. Let me drain you dry."

[Setting: The Polar Tang Galley; Late Night]

The galley of the Polar Tang was dimly lit, the only sounds being the hum of the submarine's engines and the muffled laughter echoing from the bar. But here, pressed against the cool, hard surface of the countertop, the world felt impossibly small and sweltering hot.

Penguin's breathing was ragged, coming in harsh pants against the nape of your neck. His hands, rough from years of pirate life but surprisingly tender when it came to you, roamed possessively over your hips and up your thighs. He had you bent forward, your palms pressed against the smooth wood of the bar for support, while his body pressed flush against your backside. The unmistakable, rigid length of his cock was grinding insistently against your inner thigh through his trousers, a constant reminder of the hunger burning inside him.

"Yeah! Get them, Penguin!" Shachi's voice rang out, full of mischief and genuine excitement. He was perched on one of the bar stools just a few feet away, leaning forward with his chin in his hands, a wide, goofy grin splitting his face. His triangle glasses had slipped to the tip of his nose, but he didn't seem to care. "Don't let 'em off easy, buddy! Show 'em why you're the best!" He winked at you, his eyes bright with amusement. "You're doing great, sunshine! Just let him take what he wants!"

Penguin let out a low, guttural growl at Shachi's encouragement, though he didn't pull away. Instead, he leaned closer, his lips brushing against your earlobe. "Ignore him, baby," he whispered, his voice dripping with a raw, desperate need that made your toes curl. "Just focus on me."

His hands slid lower, gripping your ass firmly, pulling you back harder against the bulge between his legs. The hunger in him was palpable a deep, consuming ache that only you could sate. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent like a man starving.

"You're so fucking beautiful like this, my little bon bon," he murmured, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that promised both worship and ruin. "So helpless for me."

[Setting: Private Quarters on the Polar Tang; Late Night]

The cabin was warm, insulated against the crushing depths of the ocean outside, but the heat between you and Penguin felt far more consuming. The dim lighting cast soft shadows across the bed as Penguin hovered over you, his broad frame blocking out the rest of the world. His Penguin hat lay discarded on the nightstand, revealing his short, black spiky hair that pressed against your temple as he moved.

"Just relax, baby," he murmured against your skin, his voice dropping to that low, gravelly register that always made your knees weak. His breath was hot against your neck, sending shivers racing down your spine before his lips followed.

He wasn't gentle not entirely. While his words were soothing, his actions betrayed the deep, ravenous hunger that always simmered beneath his laid back exterior. He kissed your collarbone with reverent tenderness before suddenly shifting, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin in a sharp, deliberate bite that drew a gasp from your lips. He immediately soothed the sting with the tip of his tongue, worshipping the mark he'd just left.

"So good," he whispered, his hands sliding down your sides to grip your hips, pulling you flush against him. Even through his clothes, you could feel the solid strength of his sturdy tall frame, the way he seemed to want to merge his body entirely with yours. "You're so fucking divine, bunny. I've been imagining this since we left port."

His kisses became more insistent, traveling lower, mapping every inch of your body as if he were trying to memorize you through touch alone. Every time you tried to arch into him, to seek more, he would pause to nuzzle into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply before resuming his assault of kisses and bites. He was devoted to this to you and the intensity in his dark eyes as he pulled back to look at you made it clear that tonight, he wasn't going to stop until you were completely spent.

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