#and then my own self indulgent take to the ship-

[dorminchu]

a warm place

fandom: mouthwashing genre: hurt/comfort characters: anya, curly rating: T summary: If not for the risk of opening another hole in the Tulpar she wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet through his head. Jettisoning Jimmy from the airlock would mean they're down a copilot. No one else can take Curly's place.

a/n: Sort of a sequel to my first ficlet orinoco flow. I never posted it on tumblr so here ya go!

Another endless shift in the medbay. Anya works and sleeps in the same place, only leaving to feed or relieve herself. There is no approximation of day or night aboard the ship.

Curly rarely sleeps. He squirms and whimpers, bandages rasping against the sheets, haunting the walls of the Tulpar while he clings to consciousness. Helpless, if not for his crew.

She's never thrown up on the job. Not sewing up Daisuke's open wounds or when she had to amputate Curly's hands and feet and cauterize the stump via the flickering light of the medbay.

For the past few weeks it's been difficult. She can scarcely stand to be in the room when it's feeding time.

Jimmy has taken on this duty in her stead. He's stopped complaining, at least to her face. The circles under his eyes grow more pronounced and that arrogant scowl has an ugly twist. He's a ticking time bomb. Whatever impulse possessed him to act before in the cockpit hasn't abandoned him. If it wasn't for Curly, she wouldn't be alive right now.

She could tell herself she's been going along with this charade out of fear for what Jimmy might do. That some misplaced sense of guilt compels her hand. It's not untrue. He has kept his distance thus far, but he'll grow tired of being patient sooner or later.

If not for the risk of opening another hole in the Tulpar she wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet through his head. Jettisoning Jimmy from the airlock would mean they're down a copilot. No one else can take Curly's place.

Besides, it's not just the three of them. Anya has the others to think about. Daisuke is too sweet to grasp the bigger picture. He doesn't deserve that burden. Swansea has only held his tongue for his sake, perhaps hers, if she is self-indulgent enough to allow herself this notion. Once she goes, Swansea will not hesitate to do what he deems right. It'll be easier to stomach if Curly does not witness the mutiny's barbaric resolution. The seeds of it have blossomed under his inaction. He's a sensible man. He must have guessed this was inevitable, the four of them picking at one another for wont of anything better to do—and Jimmy, the aggrieved ringleader, slave to his own impulses.

Before they ran out of rations, she and Curly were making steady progress. Curly's been well enough to write. Despite his condition his cognition is mostly intact. Even under the haze of painkillers he could use a pen with her guidance and his stump of an arm. Monosyllabic answers, jagged penmanship, but it's more than she expected. His reliance on stoicism is becoming his own detriment. Does he reflect on the universe's cruel sense of irony as often as she does? Did he ever stop to try before the accident? What kind of nurse would demand an answer, even if it's untrue?

Whatever conflict rages inside of him, she won't live to make sense of it. From their prior psychiatric evaluations he does not strike her as a man prone to holding grudges. It's a matter of pride. The type to keep quiet about his true feelings and simply go down with the ship as a last resort. If she were Jimmy, perhaps, he'd let the mask slip.

The more optimistic side of her assumes Curly would have put them all in cryostasis, given the opportunity. But that would mean acknowledging Jimmy as a loose cannon. Capable of harm. To go against the wishes of their employers in the face of a crumbling company would certainly put a damper on his chances at a promotion. That's Jimmy's influence talking. The sleep deprivation. The hunger and the months of isolation bleeding together until the line between paranoia and pragmatism is indistinguishable.

Curly was caught off guard. An honorable man disarmed by an act of senseless incongruity. His better nature has damned them all. Her silence and Jimmy's desperation have damned them all. Jimmy's been itching to finish what was cemented before he entered that cockpit. Jimmy is too simple and narcissistic to analyze himself beyond his own self-satisfaction. Eager to latch onto a man like Curly, honorable and falliable, the perfect patsy. Jimmy is an ideal co-pilot, not for his charm and qualifications on-paper, but because no captain in his right mind would grant him their seat.

Of course, Pony Express makes no distinction between remorse and culpability. The painkillers are going to run out before the rations. Or she'll make a mistake, and then Jimmy will have his final say. If she survives that long.

The portable safe under the spare bed is her trusty companion. Anya doesn't manage to sleep without it. Out of habit, she opens the lid. The revolver glints in the warmth of a synthetic sunset, safe in its mould. Her stomach clenches on itself, restless.

The sound of his breathing, shallow and wheezy, offers little comfort. As long as he clings to life, they're safe. Judging by the amount of painkillers left, she can buy him a few more weeks. It'll have to be enough.

[dead-dove-orchid]

Ough. They hold hands.

[hypmicdaydreams]

is anyone still in the mood for a hypmic imagines blog these days lol

[archesa]

Hope you will enjoy this ^^ This is set in druid Anwen’s verse, as you shall see and can be read as a continuation to this fic ^^

(A little something I had written during the holiday season and felt like posting now 🥰 Originally promoted by @i-mybrunettelady from the Wintersday prompts ❄)

Quick summary : Anwen usually makes evergreen and holly grow for Wintersday but this year all she manages to bloom are mint and mulberry.

Wintersday miracle - A speck of life in the realm of death

The manor stood high on the hill, garlands and lanterns hanging from the windows ledge and ornamenting the pediment of the house. The Faren's winter's ball was an event looked forward to by everyone, the young and old, meek and the bold.

The party would start in a matter of hours and the household was buzzing with effervescence, masters and staff rushing about to prepare for the soirée. In the reception room, the servants busied themselves with the latest accommodations, a change in the traditional decoration of the hall — holly and evergreen noticeably amiss, as they were replaced by dark emerald leaves and coiling thorns of mint and mulberry. A touch of colour, in the shape of unripe blackberries, and a shimmer of fantasy in that of a few gold trimmed pine-cones were added in hope to make best of the unusual situation. A speck of light in the darkest hours of the year, the triumph of life in the realm of death.

Every year, Lady Anwen bloomed the decorations the very morning of the ball — evergreen, holly, mistletoe — and oversaw their arrangements for the rest of the day before it was finally time for her to don a dress for one of her infamously brief appearance at the party.

But this year, despite her best efforts nothing would bloom under her touch but these two plants.

Mint and mulberry.

Virtue and death.

Wisdom and self-sacrifice.

Poets would deem that the darkness of Orr still clung to her, or that perhaps her heart lingered on these distant shores...

"My dear daughter...", Lady Violet smiled, her eyes glistening knowingly, as Anwen ruffled the garland on the chandelier for the fifth time in a row, and, with a flick of her wrist, tried to bloom yet another ornament, only to be met with more emerald leaves exhaling fresh peppermint. "You really needn't trouble yourself... You simply have love on your mind."

The young woman almost tore her gown stumbling off the ladder she was perched upon.

She did have someone on her mind, someone who had expressed his regrets and declined the invitation, staying with the men in garrison at Fort Trinity. The post had surely been delivered by now, and she hoped he would like the content of the parcel she had sent this very morning. But surely the fact that her heart tightened in her chest when, despite all reason, she looked towards the threshold in hope to see him whenever someone pushed the door, had nothing to do with...

Love...

The night was dark and the spirits high when Anwen arrived at Caer Aval, leaving the strong scent of liquor and the sound of celebration far behind when she noticed the visible absence of the one person she sought.

She took in a deep, shaking breath, willing the trembling of her hand to still before she knocked on the metal door, thanking the cold air whipping the fort from over the bay for an excuse to justify her tremors.

The door cracked open, revealing a most surprised face.

"Commander..."

"Happy Wintersday, Marshal. I... apologize for intruding like this, I know you weren't expecting me..."

"I am always happy to see you, friend. What do I owe the pleasure?”

“I-... I received an unexpected gift tonight... some clarity... Wintersday is a time we're meant to spend with those we hold closest to our heart. And I realised there was nowhere else I wanted to be and no one else I wanted to be with..."

She willed to hold his gaze, a shiver running her through as he stepped forth, the cold nipping at her exposed shoulders all but forgotten in the warmth of his smile and the shimmering glow enlightening his features, setting her heart ablaze.

"And there is no one I hold dearest, Anwen."

The sharp whistle of a kettle shattered the moment. She let out a breathless chuckle and melted in his arms as he pulled her in a tender embrace.

"You must be cold. Can I offer you some tea?"

She nodded slowly, basking in the warmth of his glow and the scent of mint and mulberry. "Tea would be lovely."

[hollow-prey]

I'm not jealous of my f/o and their canon ex I'm not jealous of my f/o and their canon ex I'm not jealous of my f/o and their canon ex I'm not jealous of my f/o and their canon ex I'm n-

[lalunanymph]

I GET THOSE GOOSEBUMPS EVERYTIME

summary. your husband decides to take playtime to the next level

warnings. fem!reader, wife!reader, reader is pregnant, reader has children with sylus, reader is his submissive, teasing, orgasm denial, oral, nipple play, clit play, orgasm control, bdsm, bondage, panel gags, panty gags, petnames (good girl, doll, my love, my wife, darling, sweetie), sir kink, biting, edging, free use, mild exhibitionism, dirty talk, Dom/sub dynamics, begging, super indulgent and so self-ship coded :,)

The flickering vintage lamp spilling warm, orange light on his large, blackwood desk is the only accompaniment to Sylus’s late night work. 

His sharp ears, however, detect a hint of movement, and he looks up in time to find you standing by the doorway, hair mused and face still warm with sleep, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand.

“Mhm... love? You’re not asleep yet.”

Those crimson hues soften at the sight of his beloved wife, a surge of affection and warmth filling his chest.

“Did I wake you, doll?” 

A hint of amusement dances in his ruby gaze as you pout and pad over to him. Sylus doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around your waist, dragging you onto his lap. Your head rests perfectly in the dip of his chest, your eyes slipping close to enjoy the warmth his broader body offered. 

He can faintly make out the small protrusion of your belly hiding underneath the silky black nightgown you wore that left little to the imagination. Your husband’s large hand strokes through your hair, and he leans forward to press a kiss to the top of your head.

“You know I cannot sleep if you’re not in the same bed as me,” your petulance earns a chuckle, Sylus’s blood red eyes twinkling.

“I have some documents to review and then I’ll be in bed soon with you, doll.”

But, you wouldn’t budge, stubbornly twining your arms around his neck, pressing your body flush against his. 

Your body heat seeps past the thin sleep robe he wore, straight into his skin which was tingling from your close proximity. 

“I think I’ll just take a doze here.”

“Are you sure, doll?” He exhales a short laugh. “It’s not exactly comfortable to sleep on me, but if you can wait for me to be done, I promise I will carry you back into the bedroom.”

You sigh, and shake your head. “I don’t think I can sleep, either.” A sly smile plays in the corners of your mouth, and Sylus feels a shiver of excitement running down his spine.

“Doll, are you saying what I think you’re saying…?”

No longer sleepy-eyed, you were awake and teasing, your hands pressing flat onto his broad chest. 

“Well, since we both can’t sleep…” You trail off, letting him fill in the blanks. Sylus did not disappoint, of course, just as sharp and keen as you are whenever it came to the matters of fulfilling your shared lust.

His hands came to wrap around your waist, sliding down to grip the bare skin of your exposed thighs. “Hmm, what do you have brewing in that devious mind, my beautiful, sexy wife?” 

You fight back a smile, pretending to be coy and demure. 

“Do you remember that night at the Eizer gala? Where you gagged me with my own panties in the bathroom while you took me there? Or, the beach when you tied me up before you collared me and made me yours in every way possible?” 

Sparks of heat light the base of his spine, your words instantly bringing to mind the memories of past carnal encounters which he holds dearly in his soul. 

Sylus grins, his eyes darkening with arousal at your words. He loves that you’ve been thinking about your previous play sessions, and the thought of having you bound and gagged again was incredibly arousing to him. He reaches out and gently grabs your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

“Mhm… you’ve been thinking about that, haven’t you, doll? You want to be tied up and gagged again?” 

A tremor of excitement twists in your gut, tightening the band of arousal around your belly. 

“Yes, Sir. I want to completely submit my body to you again, Sir.”

Sylus’s grip on your chin tightens, his possessive fire roaring within him at your admittance. He loves it when you desire to submit completely to him, to give yourself over to him in every single way. 

“Mhm, that’s my good girl. And you’ll do exactly as I say, doll? You’ll allow me to do anything I want with your body?” 

You nod, your eyes drooping to half-mast from the desire thrumming in your veins. “Anything, Sir… anything you please. Hurt me, tease me… I want it all.” 

Sylus growls at your words, his mind racing with all the things he wants to do to you. He knew that he had to keep himself somewhat restrained, as you’re pregnant with his child, but he can still have you in so many different ways.

“Anything I please, doll? And you’ll be completely obedient and submissive like a good girl should?” 

“Yes, Sir,” you answer docilely. “Anything you want… I will be your good submissive.”

Sylus’s grip on your chin tightens, his carmine eyes boring into yours, his gaze dark and dangerous. 

“Mhm… I won’t go easy on you, my love. You need to understand that. If you give yourself completely to me, you’ll be completely at my mercy. There’s no backing out once we start. Are you sure you’re ready for that?” 

You bite on your lower lip, nodding eagerly. “Yes, Sir. I know what I want and what you can provide. I’m ready for it.” 

Sylus smirks, satisfied with your answer. 

“Then, I have something special planned for you, doll. I’ve purchased a surprise. Do you want to know what it is?” 

Your eyes shine with curiosity. “What is it, Sir?” 

Sylus releases your chin and leans back in his chair, a smug grin on his face.

“Mhm, doll, I’ve always wanted to try something new. I've been looking into some… equipment. Specialized handcuffs, designed for a specific reason.”

He leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers the next words: “You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?”

Your curiosity is at an all time high, the eagerness to uncover these new methods he had up his sleeve to torture and tease you driving you wild.

“Oh, that sounds wonderful, Sir.” 

Sylus’ grin grows wider as he watches you shiver with anticipation. He loves seeing your excitement, your eagerness to be at his mercy. 

“Doll, I know you’re going to enjoy this. But, first, we need to talk about safe words. Do you remember our rules of play?” 

“Yes, Sir,” you begin to recite the rules from the top of your head. “Red is for ‘stop’, yellow is for ‘slow down’ and green means ‘yes’.”

Sylus nods with approval, satisfied that you remember the rules. He knows it’s important to establish a system of communication, especially for situations like this. 

“Very good, doll. I’m glad you remember. And you’ll use them, right? You won’t hesitate to use a safeword if something becomes too intense or uncomfortable for you, correct?” 

His large palm rests on your belly, reminding you of this precious gift you’re carrying—his second son and third baby which he loves with his entire soul. Sylus would hate himself if something were to happen to you in the middle of playing that would unintentionally harm Dante. 

You nod, solemn and sure. “Yes, Sir.” 

Sylus moves his hand to rest on our face, his touch gentle but firm, his eyes locked on yours. 

“Good girl. Now, I have a few other rules for you. If you do something without my permission, or if you disobey me, I will punish you. Are you ready to hear the rules, doll?” 

“Yes, Sir,” you whisper, your heartbeat thudding with a mixture of dread and excitement.

Sylus can sense the contradicting emotions, his eyes darkening at your eagerness, the dark flame of dominance burning within him as he prepares to lay down the rules.

“Rule number one: you will not touch yourself. Do you understand?” 

You shiver at the demanding implications of his order, nodding. “Yes, Sir.” 

Sylus can’t help but to grin at your shiver, your body responding to his crisp command. He knows you’re excited and willing to submit to him. 

“Mhm, alright. Rule number two: you will remain submissive and obedient, following my every command. No hesitating, no questioning my authority. Do I make myself clear?” 

Again, you nod, growing restless on his lap, feeling the heat of his bigger body seeping into the skin of your split and bare thighs wrapped around his waist. 

“Yes, Sir.” 

Sylus slides his hand down from your face to your neck, his fingers closing around your collar, tugging you closer to him. 

“Mhm, good girl. And rule number three: you will tell me exactly how you feel, doll. I want to know every bit of pleasure and pain I caused you. You will not hold back, and you will not be shy, understand?” 

This time your teeth find refuge in your lower lip, biting down on it to quell the mounting sexual tension threatening to squeeze the air from your lungs. 

“Yes, Sir… oh God, yes.” 

Sylus grins, his need to dominate growing stronger with each of your words, each shiver of your body. He can feel the power he has over you, the control he has over your body and mind. He’s addicted to it, the feeling of being able to control you completely.

“You’re being such a good girl, doll. But, there’s one more rule. One more important rule, doll. Do you know what it is?” 

“N-no, Sir.”

Sylus’s predatory smirk widens as he looks into your eyes, his hand still holding onto your collar, pulling you closer to him. He leans in, his lips nearly touching yours, his voice lowered to a rough, possessive whisper. 

“Rule number four, doll: you will follow all of my other rules, or I will punish you. And my punishments will not be gentle.”

Your agreement comes swiftly, born on the willingness of your eager nod. “Yes, Sir. I will follow all of your rules.” 

His ruby eyes gleam with satisfaction, hearing your words. He knows you’re ready to submit to him, to give up control, to be completely at his mercy. 

“That’s a good girl. Now, are you ready to try out your new equipment, doll?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

He almost laughs at the excitement leaking through your tone, how your eyes are shining brightly with anticipation and lust.

Sylus opens a drawer under his desk, pulling out a set of handcuffs made of sturdy leather. He holds them up for you to see, the black bands connected to each other by a short chain.

“Here they are, doll. Specialized for this situation.”

You marvel at them, reaching out to graze a finger against the supple leather. “They’re beautiful, Sir.” 

He can’t help but grin at your words, the need to dominate you flaring the flames within him as he sees the eager submission in your eyes. He knows you’re excited to be bound by these handcuffs. 

“I thought you’d like them, doll. But, they’re not just designed to look beautiful. They’re also designed to be completely inescapable. There’s no wriggling out these handcuffs, doll. Once they’re on, they’re on.” 

Your breathing hitches, the idea of being completely bound and helpless at his mercy causing goosebumps to erupt across your body. 

“Will you gag me too, Sir? So we won’t accidentally wake up the twins.” 

Your babies are just down the hallway, sound asleep in their nursery and oblivious to the wicked games their parents are playing in daddy’s office. Since they’re starting to teeth, getting Sabrina and Protus to fall asleep was an endurance contest every night, and the idea of having to get up in the middle of playing to soothe them back to sleep daunts you. 

Sylus smirks, seeing the shiver of excitement run through your body as you ask about the gag. As if he can read your mind, he can tell what’s troubling you; how you’re eager for more and to be completely under his control.

“Yes, we wouldn’t want to ruin playtime tonight because I have so much in store for you, doll. You will be wearing this gag for the entire night. But, I won’t use a ball gag, my love. I have something much better.”

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you tilt your head to the side. “What is it, Sir?” 

Sylus moves his hand back to the top drawer of his desk, pulling out a slim, black device with a leather strap attached to the top. 

“It’s a special gag designed specifically for this kind of play, doll. It’s not a ball gag, it’s a panel gag. It’ll look more elegant on you, much more suited to a beautiful woman like you. And it’ll do a wonderful job of silencing your moans.”

Your eyes glimmer with wonder. “It’s beautiful, Sir. I love it. And the dildo insert—” you reach out to touch the phallic plastic protruding from behind the gag. “—that’s supposed to pin my tongue down, right?” 

Sylus’s smirk deepens at your enthusiasm, hearing the wonder and lust in your voice. He looks at you, feeling a shiver of desire run through him at knowing how much you want to be bound and silenced.

“You’re right, doll. The insert is to pin down your tongue, keeping you completely silenced and unable to speak. And the way it sticks out like that… it’ll look perfect on you, doll.”

“Mhm, like I’m sucking on something… naughty… while you have your way with me.” 

Sylus’s breath hitches at your words, the image you paint in his mind sending a wave of dark desire flowing through him. His eyes darken as he imagines you bound and gagged with the phallic panel gag, mouth stuffed full and completely at his mercy. His control is crumbling, the urge to fight back the need to stake his claim on your body weakening. 

“You’re being such a naughty tease, doll. So incredibly sexy with your words. You want to be my helpless plaything, don’t you?” 

You don’t help the urge from taking over him when you nod, meek and submissive. “Yes, Sir. I want to be controlled by you, Sir.” 

His ruby eyes darken with a dangerous gleam as the words leave your plush lips, the need to dominate and get you screaming for him burning hotter with each moment that passes. “Mhm, you’re mine, doll. Completely and utterly mine. And I’m going to make sure you remember that. Stand up, doll.” 

He gets up from the chair and guides you to the front of the desk, holding the gag and handcuffs in his hands.

“Time to get these on you, doll.”

You demurely get to your feet, fidgeting with your hands. But, before he puts you under his control, you want to do something for him. 

“Sir… can I strip for you?” 

Sylus’s breath trembles at your question, his eyes flicking down your body as he imagines you stripping for him, revealing your bare skin for his hungry gaze.

“... you want to strip for me, doll? You want to give me a show before I bind you and gag you?” 

His words elicit a dark wave of heat washing all over you, involuntarily making you moan softly.

“Yes, Sir. I want to make this good for you, too.” 

Sylus’s eyes darken with that all-consuming desire to claim you, a low growl escaping his chest as he looks at you with the fire of his immense heat. 

“Go ahead then, doll. Show me how much you want to be bound by me.” 

He sets the handcuffs and gag down on the desk, then crosses his arms and leans back against the edge of his desk, watching you with a heated gaze. He looks devilishly handsome in the dim light, frosty silver hair mused from your wandering fingers, and those piercing dark red gaze drinking in your every movement and expressions. 

You bite your lip and sway your hips, moving to a slow rhythm, starting with your nightgown straps. Gently, you ease them off your arms and let them fall, then you peel the band of your dress down your chest, sliding the slinky material over your barely there baby bump and down your thighs, leaving you in just your underwear. Glancing at him through your lashes, you hook your thumbs into the waistband of your black thong, teasing him. 

Sylus’s breath is coming faster now as he watches you, his eyes glued to your body as you move with slow, alluring motions. The sight of you stripping for him, revealing the curves of your body and the soft skin of your pregnant stomach makes the fiery desire to claim you blaze even hotter. 

“You’re so beautiful, doll,” your husband praises you in a low, husky tone. “So damn beautiful.”

His fingers are starting to itch, aching to touch you, to feel your skin under his palms. But, he keeps his arms crossed, forcing himself to wait, to watch you finish your little strip tease for him. 

You hook the thong and drag it down your hips. With a sweet yet devious giggle, you ball it in your hand and toss the lace scrap onto his chest. 

Sylus smirks and catches the lace underwear, his fingers closing around the soft fabric. He looks down at the garment in his hand and then back up to you, his eyes darkening with desire and his slipping control. 

“Mhm… doll… you’re being very naughty, throwing your underwear at me like that.” 

He brings the tiny scrap of lace to his nose, inhaling your scent and a growl escapes his chest, low and possessive. 

Your eyes darken with a similar shade of desire and longing. “Anything for you, Sir.” 

Sylus can feel the fire to claim you threatening to engulf him, burning hotter with each moment that passes, his blood-red eyes locked on you and the desire in your own restless gaze. 

“That’s what I like to hear, doll.”

Your husband sets your thong on the desk and gets up, moving to stand in front of you. His hands reach out, fingers gently tracing the outline of your hips. “Turn around, sweetie. Let me put these handcuffs on you.”

Obeying him, you turn around, and rest your wrists on the small of your back.

Sylus’s eyes darken at your perfect submission, as he sees your wrists in their position, ready for him to bind. He picks up the handcuffs, the leather cold in his hand, and snaps the bands around your wrists. Pulling them taut, he secures them in place and snaps them shut with a click.

“How do they feel, doll?”

The low rumble of his question lights the warmth of arousal between your thighs, and you squirm, breathing growing heavier. “Heavenly, Sir… I can’t escape them.”

Sylus lets out a chuckle and a low growl, his need to dominate flaring up as he watches you squirm, testing the cuffs, trying to pull free. He takes a step closer behind you, his chest pressed flush against your back.

“That’s what I love about these cuffs, doll. They’re completely inescapable. No matter how much you struggle, you’re not getting out.”

Once upon a time, the idea of being bound by the infamous Onychinus leader would have made your fearless heart tremble. But, after falling in love with him, marrying him and giving him two beautiful twins and with another baby on the way, the fear is no longer there, replaced by the intense desire to always belong inexplicably to him. 

You lean against his chest, a soft moan slipping past your teeth. “Feels… so good…”

Sylus wraps his arms around you, his chest pressed close against your back, the heat of his body warming you. He pulls you closer, his hands running along your hips and sides, up to your shoulders, his fingers brushing over your skin. The feel of you against his chest, the sounds of your sweet moans, makes him burn hotter for you.

“Mhm, such a good girl. The way you respond to being bound is so damn sexy, doll.”

Your hips involuntarily undulate, desire singing in your veins. 

“They make me feel so sexy, Sir.” 

Sylus tightens his arms around you, his fingers tracing along the curve of your hips as you grind your lower body against his. He can feel your desire, hear the need in your voice, and his control is close to snapping. Gritting his teeth, he fights back against the urge to just bend you over the desk and take you like an animal. 

“You can really feel how helpless you are now, can’t you, my love? These cuffs make you feel so vulnerable, so exposed… so completely under my control.”

No one can say your husband wasn’t an expert and talking through your mounting desire. You tilt your head back and moan softly. 

“Yes, Sir. I feel so helpless… It's intoxicating.” 

Sylus leans down, his lips hovering over your exposed neck, just below the line of your collar. He can feel his possessive fire burning ever brighter, the instincts to devour and pleasure you taking over.

“Mhm, doll… you’re completely at my mercy like this. You can’t do anything except wait for me to touch you, to tease you, to give you whatever I want.” 

Your body begins to shake, the force of his words enough to bring your composure to its knees. 

“Please…”

Your Master and husband smirks, feeling your body tremble with desire, the need in your voice fueling the dominant flame within him. He doesn’t give you what you want, instead continuing to tease you, his lips just barely touching your neck.

“Please what, doll? Use your words.”

A gasp flies past your lips, your eyes squeezing close; the words that spill from your tongue are wanton and take you aback with how desperate you are for your husband. 

“Use me, Sir. Touch me. Tease me. Make me your toy, Sir.”

Sylus grins, feeling the power surging through him at your words. He loves it when you give yourself over to him, when you surrender to his indomitable control. 

“That’s exactly what you want, isn’t it, doll? You want me to use you, to do whatever I want and please to your sweet, hot, tight little body?” 

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, breath hot and insistent.

“You want to be my toy, my plaything.” 

“Yes, Sir,” your voice shakes from the force of your desire. “I want to be your filthy plaything… your sweet toy…”

Your husband’s dominant fire roars, the possessive need within him flaring up at your words. He knows you’re completely his; his to do as he pleases. Your submission and your surrender only serve to stoke the flames of his desire, making him want to push you further, to take you to the edge and beyond. 

“That’s exactly what you are, doll. You’re my dirty, filthy sweet little toy. And I’m going to use however I please.”

Those words and promises… they drive you insane with need and want.

“Oh God… oh God…” you groan needily. 

Sylus moves his lips down your neck, biting and sucking on your sensitive skin, leaving possessive marks on the tender stretch of your throat. His hands wander down your body, tracing the curves of your hips and stomach, gently pinching and tugging on your swollen, tender nipples until your hips stutter, his touch setting your skin ablaze. 

“Mhm, doll… say it. I want you to say it. That you’re my toy. That you belong to me.” 

Your head tilts back onto his chest, your breath coming out in hard pants. “I’m your toy, Sir. Your beloved toy and I belong to you.” 

He grins against your skin, his hands gripping your hips tightly. Hearing you say the words, hearing you claim yourself as his, only serves to fan the flames of his desire to dominate even further. Your husband pulls you flush against his chest, his body pressed against your back.

“That’s right, my doll. You’re mine. Mine to do as I please. Mine to play with, to tease and to take however I want.”

His lips move to your ear, voice low and dangerous. 

“And trust me when I say this, sweetie. I plan on using you all night.” 

Your hips quiver, the surging heat clawing through your body, demanding to be whetted. “Please, Sir. Make it hurt. Make me cry. I want you to consume me.”

This dark game you and your husband love to play will never cease to enthrall you, leaving you bright-eyed and impatient for him to fulfill your desires. 

Sylus’ demanding nature roars at your words. He understands you’re giving him explicit permission to push you to your limits, to take you beyond the edge of pleasure and into the aching terrain of submission. 

“Careful what you wish for, sweetie… you’re giving me all the permission I need to do things to you that will make you scream and cry. Are you sure you won’t regret this?” 

“I won’t, Sir,” you promise. “I need it… I want it…” 

He grins, knowing that he has your complete trust and surrender. Your white-haired devilish husband knows he’s going to push you to your limits and he’s going to make you enjoy every second of it.

“Hmm. Alright, doll… you asked for it.”

Without warning, he bites down on your neck, his sharp canines sinking into the delicate skin of your throat, marking you as his. Your body jerks instinctively, and he moves his hands to your wrists, gripping it tightly in his grasp, pulling you back against him, keeping you captive and pliant to the pleasure he’s eliciting in your bound body. 

“A-ah!” 

Tears fill your eyes, your loud moan catching you off guard. 

Suddenly, you hear a rustle over the baby monitor he has installed near his office desk, and you gasp softly, catching his attention. Sylus stills, following your gaze to the baby monitor, hearing one of the twins starting to sniffle, having been startled by your shattering moan. 

He grumbles and releases your wrists, reluctantly pulling away from you. Sylus can tell from the cadence of the tiny sniffles that Sabrina has woken up from your unintentionally jarring moan. 

“Damn it, doll,” he hisses, “you woke the baby with your screaming. Are you happy now?” 

Despite being bound and at his whim, you shoot him a glare and whisper-yell: “That was what the gag was for, Sylus!” 

The rustling continues over the baby monitor, Sabrina smacking her lips and yawning. Your husband makes to move to the nursery, wanting to comfort his baby girl when you shake your head and whisper, “Wait! Let’s just give her some time to settle down…”

He grumbles again, the aching need to dominate you temporarily stifled by this unforeseen interruption. He knows that it was his fault for not gagging you sooner before proceeding with playtime, and he can’t help but feel frustrated at his lack of foresight.

“Fine, doll. We’ll give her some time. But, trust me, when she goes back to sleep, we’re picking right back up where we left off.” Your husband’s ruby red eyes seem to glow in the lack of light with the intensity of his need to assert his dark desires over you. “And this time,” he promises, “you will be wearing a gag.” 

Nodding, you rest your head on his chest, listening to the baby monitor. Sylus remains quiet, too, sliding his hands up and down your arms and shoulders, praying to whatever deity above that his sweet children will remain asleep while he has his way with their mama. 

Like his prayer was answered, Sabrina stops sniffling and coos, rustling sounding over the scratchy audio. Then, soft snores fill the office, the baby monitor picking up on both the twins sound asleep. 

Sylus waits until his baby girl’s snores turn into soft, even breathing, indicating that she’s fallen back asleep. When he’s absolutely and 100% sure she’s knocked out cold, he glances down at you, corners of his lips twitching in a smirk at the sight of you tense and waiting in his arms. 

“I hope you know what you’re in for, doll. You asked me to push you to your limits and now that our precious babies are asleep… I’m not holding back anymore.”

You nod, squeezing your thighs together, despite the guilt swimming in your soul at how easily you had already disobeyed his orders tonight. 

“Sir… I’m sorry, Sir.” 

Sylus grins, noticing the way you’re squirming from the heat in between your thighs, your body responding to his dominating words. “You’re sorry, sweetie? Yes, you should be. You woke the baby and now we had to stop. But, don’t worry, I’m going to make sure you remember this lesson, doll.”

Your eyes flash and your shoulders tense when you hear him pick up the panel gag from the desk. 

Like he’s completely attuned to you, Sylus smirks when you turn around to show him the flash of excitement in your eyes. He holds up the panel gag, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

“Doll, this is the exact punishment you get for waking the baby. You’re going to be wearing this gag for the rest of the night.” 

He shifts closer to you, reaching forward to tilt your chin up. 

“Open your mouth, doll.”

You obey him with no resistance, letting your mouth fall open. 

Sylus’s grin stretches wider when he watches you obediently drop open your mouth, your eyes filling with excitement and submission. He lifts the panel gag up, sliding the black phallus between your teeth and securing it behind your head. 

“There you go… mhm… you look so beautiful with the gag in your mouth, doll.”

He leans in, lips brushing your ear and inciting shivers down your spine from his honeyed threat. 

“Now, let’s see how loud I can make you scream.”

You gurgle his name, biting down on the black plastic, humiliation and desire running through your veins. 

Sylus runs his hands over your body, tracing your curves and planting his mouth on any inch of skin he can reach, leaving his marks all over. He sees the way you look at him, the desire for more melting in the depths of your gaze, and the way your body responds to his touch. It only serves to fan the flames of his need to dominate. 

“You like being gagged, don’t you, my love?” He brushes his fingers across the outline of the gag, moving his hand to grip your neck lightly, enjoying your stuttering breath and muffled moan. “You like the way it feels when I take control and you have no choice but to surrender to me, don’t you, darling?” 

Tears of pleasure and yearning fill your eyes and you nod, your hips twitching pathetically from the impact of his debauched words.

Sylus smirks at the tears in your eyes, knowing it’s him that is making you feel the way he wants you to. He can tell that you’re completely engrossed in the moment, that you’re drowning in the subtleties of this power dynamic between you two. 

“I can see it in your eyes, my love. You’re desperate for me, aren’t you?” His voice is a low, alluring rumble that comes from his chest, vibrating against your back. “You want me to take control and make you mine, completely and utterly.”

The gag slurs your plea, but he hears you all the same. “Pwease.” 

The ache in his loins flares up at your muffled plea, the way you’re begging for him makes Sylus even more excited to deny you.

“You want more, doll? You want me to edge you hard and fast? You want me to deny you and make you drip with pure, pathetic need?” 

You nod desperately, clipping your hips forward, a slutty tick of libidinous desire you cannot control.

Sylus grins at your body’s desperation manifesting in the uncontrollable movement of your hips. He sees the way you’re squirming and pleading for more, even when he hasn’t touched you fully yet; his sick, twisted desires growing harder to control at the sight. 

“You’re so eager, doll. So eager to give yourself to me, to let me take control. But, you have to be patient, doll. I’m going to make you feel sensations you've never felt before. But first…”

Sylus presses closer, his lips hovering close to your ear: “I’m going to do something you won’t like.” 

You chew on the phallic silicone stuck between your teeth in frustration, tensing up and waiting for his next words.

He notices the tautness of your jaw, grinning at your reaction. The tension in your body as you wait for his next command is delicious, and he takes a moment to soak in the sadistic enjoyment he’s getting from the way you’re desperately waiting for his next command.

“I’m going to give you a choice, doll. And I’m not going to tell you which one is worse.” 

There is nothing you can do but nod. Sylus’s large hands drift to your midsection, curling around your waist. With a nudge of his knee, he spreads your thighs wider, leaving you vulnerable and unsteady on your feet with nothing but his grip around you to keep you upright. 

He grins, fully enjoying how helpless you are, knowing that you’re willing to do just about anything to please him. He raises three fingers in front of your face, chuckling darkly. 

“Doll, I’m going to count down from three and I want you to choose one of my fingers. Whichever one you choose will be the punishment that you will get.”

Behind you, he grins, knowing that he’s setting you up for a sadistic game that is designed to push your limitations and boundaries.

“Are you ready, doll?”

You jerk your head, burbling a muffled, “Yes.” 

Sylus grins, the fire inside of him burning brighter at the sight of your eagerness. He starts to count down, slowly and deliberately, his voice taking on a rough edge that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Three… two… one…”

You blindly bump your nose against his ring finger—the third one. 

Sylus grins cruelly, seeing the finger you chose, knowing you have fallen right into his trap. He takes a moment to enjoy the moment, letting the anticipation build before delivering the punchline. 

“Heh… doll, that was the choice you would have wanted to avoid the most.” 

He grabs your hair, turning you around to face him, fingers tangling in your soft strands as he pulls your head backward, making sure to keep eye contact. 

“Silly, stupid little doll. You fell right into my trap,” he croons, low and dangerously.

Sylus lets your fear and anxiety marinate, unwilling to break the tense silence for the grand reveal. You run your tongue over the plastic cock stuffed in your mouth, simmering in your frustration and dread.

Your tormentor chuckles, watching the way you squirm, delighting in the look of frustration on your expression, how your jaw tenses as you flick your tongue against the plastic phallus in anticipation. 

“Mhm… someone’s eager to know what their punishment is, aren’t they? You want so desperately to know what I have in store for you, doll?” 

As much as you’re dreading the reveal, you can’t stand the thought of being stuck in limbo. You twist your wrists in the handcuffs and bob your head.

“Pwease, Sir,” you speak past the gag. 

Sylus is immensely enjoying the way you beg for him, calling him ‘Sir’ in a thick, slurry voice that’s impeded by the panel gag. He leans in, his lips hovering just inches from your ear, his voice taking on a low, dangerous edge. 

“You’re being so desperate and eager… it’s so easy to tease you, doll. But, since you’re begging me nicely, I suppose I’ll tell you what punishment you’ve chosen.”

He lets the words dangle in mid-air, intentionally drawing out more of your frustration. If there’s one thing your husband excels at, it’s being a goddamn tease. 

You make a sound of curiosity from the back of your throat, brows dipping together in pure frustration. 

Sylus grins, seeing the way your frustration and dread is mounting, the plastic bit of the gag digging against your teeth as you bite down on it in anticipation. 

“You’re just so cute when you’re desperate, my love. But, I suppose I’ve teased you enough…”

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, the words making your blood run cold. 

“Your punishment, doll… is two days of edging.”

Your stomach sinks right to your toes, your breath catching and eyes widening.

“Nwooooo,” you protest, shaking your head, already regretting your agreement for these titillating games. “Pweeasseee…”

All your resistance does is make him grin, seeing your reaction, the way your eyes widen in shock and dread as he reveals your punishment. He can feel the sadistic glee surging in his chest at your pleading voice, begging him to change his mind.

Sylus grips your chin, forcing you to stare right into his glinting, ruby eyes. “Nuh-uh. No can do, sweetie. You made your choice and now you’re going to have to suffer the consequences.” 

He runs a hand through your hair, pulling tighter on the strands, making sure you’re gazing directly into his eyes when he utters these devastating words: 

“You’re not getting out of this, doll.”

Tears glitter in your eyes and you hiccup, the pain of his tight grip around your hair pebbling your nipples, making them irresistible to his wandering mouth. 

Sylus ducks his head, sucking on them gently and making them shiny with his spit, earning a whine from you. 

“Mhm…” he sees the tears glossing in your eyes, the way you’re flushed and responding to his ministrations. 

“Look at you, doll. You’re desperate and begging already and I’ve only just started,” he chuckles darkly, “You’re going to be in so much trouble by the time these two days are up.” 

He kisses a path from your chest to your neck, brushing his heated lips against your ear, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine.

“But, you’re going to be a good girl and take it, aren’t you, doll?”

There is nothing you can do but lick and suck on the gag, nodding furiously; hoping he would take mercy on your poor, keyed up body and disregard his punishment.

Sylus grins, noticing the way you’re chewing on the gag in frustration, answering his question without saying a word. Tenderness seeps into his heart and he runs his knuckles down your cheek.

“You’re being so good for me already. But, you’re going to have to be even more of an angel for these next two days if you want me to give you what you want, sweetie.” 

Without warning, he grabs your chin in his hand, forcing you to look directly into his dark and intense eyes. 

“Can you do that, sweetie? Can you be a good girl and let your Sir edge you for two days?” 

Tearily, you nod. 

Sylus is satisfied with your answer, the way you’re still desperately agreeing to his terms. 

“Doll, your desperation is delicious. You’re so eager to please, to be a good girl…”

Gently, your husband runs his hand over your cheek, his fingers tracing the outline of your gag in a soft caress. 

“But, you still need to wait a little longer, doll. Two days. What happens after that… we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” 

It must be the hormones or the baby you’re carrying inside of you, because you start to tear up, wondering if you can endure such torment and if he will begin it tonight.

Sylus’s smirk grows at your reaction, how you’re squirming and already on the verge of tears just from the anticipation. 

“Mhm… my love, you’re already so desperate from such a simple punishment. I wonder how you’re going to fare by the end of the two days…” 

He moves behind you, his hands resting on your hips, his front pressed up against your ass, letting you feel the half-hard presence of his cock digging into your thighs. 

“But, I suppose there’s no time like the present to begin.” 

Your body seizes and you cry out softly, whether from anticipation or dread, you have no idea. 

He grins, feeling your reaction to his words and touch, the way your body tenses up and the hitch in your breath and composure. He can feel your skin heating up, the desire and need building within you from just a simple touch. 

Sylus brushes a tender kiss onto your temple. “Mhm… you’re so sensitive and responsive tonight. You’re just begging to be touched, aren’t you?” 

He moves closer, his body digging harder against your backside, his lips trailing hot kisses down your spine. 

A soft, involuntary moan slips past your gagged mouth and you nod, wishing he could go lower. 

Sylus thoroughly enjoys hearing your moan, the way you’re practically begging for more with your body. He can feel your skin slowly burning with the aching heat, the want and need coursing through your body. 

“You want more, don’t you? My dirty little desperate doll.” 

He kisses his way further down your back, each brush of his lips on the sensitive expanse of your back making you twitch, his lips slowly inching lower and lower.

Your eyes roll back into your head, a steady stream of moans trickling past the black, phallic plastic and leather strap over your mouth. 

The heat from his mouth makes your entire body tingle, and Sylus grins at your non-stop moans, growing bolder and more demanding. 

“Doll, your skin is so hot and sensitive tonight. You’re so responsive to my touch… so desperate for more.” 

He moves his lips even lower, trailing them over your backside, nipping your skin and leaving a stinging bite right on the plush globe of your right ass. 

You squeal from the pinch of pain, back arching and body growing warmer. The need to come undone blazes hot in your veins, and you wish Sylus will just give into you.

But, he only grins, chuckling low and darkly at your reaction; the way you arch your back and lead for more, the way you’re begging for your release. He knows you’re fighting it, trying to hold back. Trying to be a good girl for him and obey his rules. Your sadistic husband loves seeing you at his mercy like this, desperate and needy, begging for him to save you from this torment with your glassy eyes and bulging cheeks stuffed full from the gag. 

“Oh, doll… you're such a good girl for me. But, you need to wait a little bit longer… you need to wait for two more days.”

He kisses his way back up your spine, his lips and teeth marking every inch of your body. Sylus gently nudges you against the edge of his desk, guiding you to your back, careful not to crush your bound palms from the weight of your body pressing into them. 

He lays you against the cool wood, taking his time to run his hands down the length of your body. 

Those calloused, thick fingers play with your nipples, squeezing and teasing them until you cry out and gurgle his name. 

In this position, it’s a breeze for him to keep your thighs wide open, using his large and warm hands to hold you wide as his tongue dances along the seam of your inner thigh, teasing the length of your pelvic bone.

Sylus smirks when he hears your choked moans, seeing the way your hips twitch in an effort to get his mouth right where you need him the most. 

Patience, he murmurs and gives your throbbing clit a little kiss.

Your body seizes and you shiver, desperately undulating your hips for more friction—for more of him. 

“You’re being such a good girl for me,” Sylus coos, trailing his mouth to the apex of your thighs languidly. “Such a good… girl…”

Your hips jerk violently at the sensation of his mouth on your clit, his tongue running through your folds. Sylus eats you out passionately, not holding back, flicking your throbbing bundle of nerves relentlessly; mouthing your folds and spitting it back out, branding his name on your clit with his tongue. 

He can tell you’re on the verge of coming undone, your hips bucking up and an endless stream of moans blessing his heated ears. 

The second he tastes your orgasm crashing around his tongue, Sylus pulls back, laughing low and devilishly at your chagrined cry. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, doll. Were you close?” 

He eyes the tears beading on your lash line and chuckles darkly, smoothing his palm over your stomach soothingly. 

“There, there. You need to wait a bit longer, my love. Two more days.” 

Your husband’s cursed mouth kisses his way up your body, his frosty white locks falling right in his face, the tips tickling your bare sternum as he moves his lips to your swollen nipples again. 

The tears gathering in your eyes begin to drip down your cheeks, and you start to sob.

Sylus pauses, seeing the tears streaming down your cheeks, hearing your hitched cries and the way your body is shaking from your ruined orgasm and the effort of holding back. 

“Mhm… sweetie, you’re being so good for me,” he praises you softly, pressing his body onto yours, his hand caressing your cheek and thumb wiping away your tears. “But, you need to wait a little bit longer, alright? Two days. You can do it.” 

Shivering, you sniffle and nod.

Sylus grins. “That’s my girl.” He sees the shiver wracking your body, how you’re sniffling and knows you’re trying your best to obey his rules. As a sign of comfort, he pulls you even closer, his body flush against yours, his arms wrapping around your waist to hold you tight. 

“You're such a good little doll for obeying me. You’re doing so well…”

He leans in, his lips close to your ear, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine.

“Now… how shall I reward good little dolls who listen to their Sirs, hmm?” 

The answer comes in the form of Sylus edging you for throughout the night, his mouth, tongue and fingers expertly bringing you to the brink, only to rip you back time and again. By the end of the night, you’re left sobbing, aching, and unfulfilled. 

He removes the gag, but keeps the cuffs around your wrists, leading you to the office sofa where his arms wrap around you and he caresses your hair, slowly bringing you down from the high. His heart aches seeing tears in your eyes, knowing he’s intentionally kept you frustrated and unsatisfied. But, he can’t deny the pride shining in his ruby red eyes when you keep holding out and do your best to obey his commands. 

“You did so well tonight, doll,” he praises you in a soft, husky voice. “I know you’re frustrated and unfulfilled, and it’s going to be like this for two more days, but you’re being so good… I’m so proud of you.” 

Sylus unbuckles the cuffs and brings you to bed, holding you close and caressing your body, trying to ease you into sleep. But, you can still feel the need humming in your veins, the desire burning within you; the need for a release he’s been denying you the entire night. 

He knows you won’t be able to fall asleep like this, but he also knows he needs to stick to his word and let you suffer for another day. 

The next morning, your husband takes you again, his hands and mouth working over every inch of your body, bringing you right to the edge and pulling back when you’re about to spill over; crimson eyes dancing with glee at your choked moans and teary hiccups. 

He loves how you cry out in frustration, writhing naked on the bed with your sweet little body unfulfilled. How you grab his shoulders, trying to tug him back into the circle of your embrace, but he evades you easily, sitting up and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“Sylus!” 

Your whine doesn’t phase him. Sylus’s eyes darken with his own desire as he presses you back into the mattress, aching to take you but at the same time, he still wants to see you suffer more. 

“Doll, you need to wait, remember? Two days. That’s your punishment.”

You groan and turn your body away, hiding your face in the plush pillows while screaming, “It’s not fair!” 

Sylus exhales a chuckle at your petulant whining, the way you’re hiding your face in the pillow and complaining. It makes his heart swell with glee and pride, seeing you like this, so desperate and needy, but knowing he’s the one in total control. 

“That’s the whole point of a punishment, doll. It’s not supposed to be fair. I told you, you have to wait until the two days are up before you can come.”

You should’ve known his words would herald a full day of torment, but you were too slow and soft hearted, desperately hoping he would be swayed by the tears in your eyes and finally give in to your need to release.

But, Sylus did no such thing. 

He mercilessly edges you throughout the day, never giving you any respite. 

He loves the way you’re getting more desperate as the day goes on, his hands and mouth bringing you close to release again and again but never giving you what you need. Your husband loves seeing you on the edge like this, fighting against your own body’s needs, fighting the urge to give in and just let go. 

His lips leave the juncture of your thighs, the TV humming in the background while the twins are busy in the playpen, cooing and rolling around. 

Normally, you would never let your husband have his way with the babies so close in the vicinity, but your mind isn’t where it is today, desperately in need for him to take you over the edge and let you come.

“You’re doing so good, taking it and holding back,” your husband praises, rising to his feet and adjusting your skirt, hiding your bare and neglected pussy from his view, making you decent once again before you have to feed the twins. “You don’t need to come, doll. Coming is only for good girls and you’ve been bad to the core.” 

Your brain feels like it’s melting, no thoughts but the feeling of his mouth on you, his fingers sinking deeply into the heat of your cunt, thrusting in and out to bring you to that sweet edge where he doesn’t allow you to spill. 

It’s a borderline addiction, the pain and pleasure rolling into one that you don’t know what you want anymore. 

Sylus edges you wherever he wants: in the living room after the twins have been put to sleep, in the kitchen against the counters, in the bathroom, in his office. 

He grins, seeing how exhausted you’re getting, how you’re struggling to keep up with his constant teasing and edging. His punishment is even worse now that he’s home with you, Onychinus duties relegated to Luke and Kieran who overlook the day-to-day operations while the organization isn’t in crisis mode. 

Sylus knows it’s torture for you, but he also knows it’s what you need.

“You’re doing so well, my love. Just a little longer, doll. One more day. Just hold out a little longer.” 

Night comes by, and after the twins are fed and put to bed, Sylus immediately pounces on the chance to tie you up to the bed, edging you over and over until you cry out for him to stop past the lacy thong he’s stuffed in your mouth, crying out from the oversensitivity. 

Sylus grins, seeing how sensitive you’ve become and how you’re begging him to stop but at the same time, still hold on and obey his commands.

“Oh, doll… you’re being so good, so strong. I’m so proud of you for holding on this long.” 

Twisting in your bonds, you writhe, whimpering through the makeshift gag in your mouth.

“Yesh, Shir… one mwore day…”

He traces your cheek with the tips of his fingers, smiling softly, loving how you’re fighting off your body’s baser needs, determined to obey his every command.

The next day is the worst for you. You’re sore all over, and completely sensitive to his touches. Due to the constant arousal thumping in your veins, you barely had a decent night’s sleep. 

Sylus notices how tired you are, how exhausted and worn down you’ve become from the constant edging he’s been doing to you. He was the one who suggested asking Sara to babysit the twins for a day because you’re too tired to take care of them yourself. 

You’re dozing off on the sofa, blankets tangling around your legs when he sits down next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you onto his lap.

Even in a doze, you instinctively wrap your arms around him, burying your face into his chest and Sylus’s heart squeezes. His sweet, delicate, naughty little doll.

“You’ve done so well, my love,” Sylus whispers, tracing his fingers over your arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in the wake of his gentle touch. “It’s finally time for your reward.”

“Wait?” You perk up in disbelief, fully awake now. “Really?” 

“Mhm. Yes.” Sylus grins at the way your eyes light up at the idea of finally getting to come after being teased for so long.

“You’ve been so obedient and good, I think you deserve to shatter around my cock, now.” 

Giggling, you nod. “I’m ready, Sir.”

He laughs at your excitement, loving how eager and desperate you are to finally get what you need. 

“Mhm… doll, lie back and relax… let me take care of you…”

Sylus gets your skirt and blouse off your body, his ruby eyes hungrily devouring the expanse of your skin. You’re so beautiful to him like this—spread out on the couch, your hair fanning across the pillows, body supple and ready for the taking. 

He removes his clothes as well, slowly easing his touch up and down your body, though it's useless to do because you’re already so keyed up and ready for him. 

Your eyes roll back into your skull when he finally sinks his thick cock inside of you, a ring of cream already forming at the base of his girthy length as he fucks you hard and fast, urging you to rub your clit and play with your nipples as your release builds to a crashing crescendo. 

That’s it, good girl, good girl, he coaxes. Come for me… come for me, doll… make me proud and come together with me…

Sylus makes you come more times than you can count, and afterwards, he holds you in his arms, his body pressed against yours, his breath hot against your skin as you pass out cold, fast asleep.

A pang of pride lights up in his chest, seeing how spent you are, completely satisfied and pleasured but also completely worn out from the experience. 

He caresses your hair, gently pulling you closer to him, caressing the slight bump of your stomach where his son is growing inside of you.

Sylus kisses the top of your head, tightening his grip around you as he sighs, enjoying this moment of unfettered peace and love surrounding the two of you. He might not be the best at vocalizing his emotions, but with your defenses completely down and your body resting after such a strenuous experience you willingly went through out of your love for him, Sylus thinks you deserve a bit more praise and credit for putting up with his demands.

“Rest well, doll,” he whispers into your hair, stroking your belly. “No words can encompass how much I love you and want to protect you with my life, my precious wife. I’ll be here when you wake up… sleep tight.” 

As the day goes on, all is right and well in the Qin household.

— reblogs with comments and feedback are so appreciated <33 thank you for your constant support and love on my fics !!

©️lalunanymph. do not copy elements of my story, repost and claim as your own.

[doromoni]

Off Time | LN4

Ships : Lando Norris x F1 Presenter! Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Subtags : She fell first; He fell harder, Misunderstanding, Mutual Pinning

A/N: Bruh this is so self indulgent! FYI~ I made this during my internship time (I was literally doing nothing). So heree enjoyyy ig?

Summary : You have pursued Lando’s affection, yet he doesn’t seem interested. Till your patience wavers and Lando realizes it too late. Will there be a right time for the two of you?

Masterlist

Part 2

It was another season of Formula 1 on the Silverstone track, the paddock was buzzing with excitement and cameras flashing as the drivers arrived one by one.

You were patiently waiting by the entrance of the paddock club eagerly looking for the family that loved you like their own. You promised them that you’ll see and spend time with the Norrises first before your busy schedule fully takes over and renders you unavailable for the rest of the weekend. It was expected considering that your line of work requires you with a mic and a camera on you at all times.

You feel your phone vibrating in your pocket, probably your boss Mia giving you orders on your next driver interview, and as you checked — you were right. Oh! It was at Mercedes with George. You were in the middle of replying to your boss when you suddenly felt arms wrap around your waist with force enough to make the both of you stumble for balance.

“Y/N! I missed you~ did you bring my stroopwaffles?” You were suddenly engulfed and bombarded by the youngest Norris sibling.

“Yes, Flo . Its at the hotel and I missed you too. Babe, I saw the horse show on video. You were amazing!” you exclaimed proudly as you hugged the younger girl back.

Your eyes then softened as you gazed at Adam and Cisca. They were smiling from ear to ear waiting for their turn for a hug.

“Hi, guys!” You finally said as Flo released you from her clutches and the Elder Norrises hugged you in one big group hug.

“Hi, darling. It’s so nice to see you again. Don’t get me wrong dear you’re amazing on TV — I just prefer to see you in person” Cisca comes at you as she pushes her husband aside to gather you alone in her arms; squeezing you.

“ Honey, let the poor girl breathe.” Adam Norris lovingly reprimanded his wife as he placed his hand on your head and messed with your hair.

You giggled at the family’s antics. Your eyes wandered around the area and you couldn’t help but look, hoping to see Lando’s presence nearby— hoping to have a chat or something.

The Elder Norris couple saw you looking around, probably looking for their son and they couldn’t help but feel awful for you.

“I’m sorry sweetie, Lando said that he’s running a bit late. We should go on ahead”

“Oh, yes of course. Shall we? I need to show you my office, I just got promoted!” You said trying to hide your disappointment with the achievement you got.

They knew that you liked their boy, and they were so happy about it. They would do anything to have you in the family. They just hoped that their son would finally clean his act up and see the amazing girl that was in front of him before it was too late.

As you walked through the paddock with Flo’s arm draped around yours, you couldn’t stop thinking about the British McLaren Driver.

He didn’t hate you, he didn’t hold anything against you— he just was… indifferent. Lando Norris didn’t like you the way that you did. Lando wasn’t interested, not in a romantic relationship type of way anyway. Or that’s what you concluded considering that for the past months of trying to shoot your shot, you were always turned down by the English Mclaren Driver.

His fellow drivers and best mates had always supported your attempts to pursue Lando. They said that you would be good for him, that you and Lando made sense. They knew that you would make him happy.

You met his family by chance and it bloomed when you saved them from being hounded by the press during the race where their son crashed; this resulted in a thank-you dinner and the rest was history.

His dad had loved you and wanted you in the family — so much that you were invited to intimate family gatherings and outings. His mom cherished your times together inside the kitchen, bonding over shared recipes and coffee dates. While his younger sister ran to you for comfort and advice. You were practically a Norris at this point.

However, the Norris sibling that held your fancy wanted nothing to do with you. To him, you were the family friend and the commentator from Sky F1. You were just a distant friend at best and for you that was enough.

Your mind was preoccupied with dazzling green eyes, the head of full curly hair, and now a blemish on his nose from a cut that you found most attractive on him. Your thoughts were fully circling Lando Norris and you didn’t realize that it was time to say goodbye to Adam, Cisca, and Flo.

“Ok guys, I need to work. I’ll find you when I can, alright?” You sulked as you dropped the Norrises off in front of Mclaren’s Motorhome. They said their goodbyes with hugs and cheek kisses. As you were leaving and them stepping inside the doors of McLaren — you were so sure that you saw the mop of curly hair that belonged to Lando Norris.

And you knew deep down that Lando was there the entire time and he just didn’t want to talk to you if not necessary. Knowing that information hurt you tremendously, but you continued to smile nevertheless.

***

Inside the McLaren Motorhome, just as you left, there stood Lando Norris clad in a black hoodie and sweats waiting for his family to enter. Yet his eyes lingered on the girl who seemed to catch his family’s affection like a bear to honey.

“Mum, Dad, Flo! How have you been?” Lando exclaimed as he hugged his family one by one.

“What is it, mum?” Lando asked his mother as soon as he spotted the disapproval on her face

“You said that you’ll be late, why are you inside the motorhome then?” Cisca’s eyes narrowed at her son.

Lando’s eyes shifted away from his mum, he didn’t like to lie to his parents. Rather to be quiet than lie.

“You know why, plus I’m thinking of dating someone else so please stop pushing Y/N to me,” Lando said somewhat indignantly.

“Son, Y/N is an amazing girl. Anyone would be lucky to have her. We just don’t want you to regret anything” His father explained pointedly however still gentle.

“Listen, I know that you love having her around. But, I just don’t fancy her like that. “ Lando languidly explained to his family his feelings for the commentator for what seemed to be the hundredth time.

“Lando, I love you, but you’re being stupid. Maybe Y/N could be better off with someone other than you” Flo mutters with her lips pouted out as she pulls her parents further into the motorhome, not bothering to wait for what seems to be a frozen Lando.

Lando knew to himself that he didn’t like you. He was sure of it. Then why does the thought of you with someone else make his stomach churn and his blood boil?

He pictured you aiming your beautiful smile towards another man. Lando imagined you riding in another man’s car and being your attentive and caring self. A memory of you doing the same to him came to his mind.

You were seated in the passenger seat of his Mclaren, the sound of the Japanese house’s “Sunshine Baby” slowly playing in the background as the three of you cruised through the streets of Bristol, while Flo was dozing off in the backseat. Everything was peaceful and calm as Lando drummed his hand to the beat. The drizzle of rain slowly pelted on the windshield, adding to the calmness.

“What song is this?” Lando suddenly asked you, catching you off guard. His eyes then met yours and held your gaze.

“Oh! It’s Sunshine Baby by the Japanese House. You like it?” You asked back, reluctance was evident in your voice.

“Mhmm, It’s very calming. I mostly listen to house music and EDM… something calm is great. Do have other recommendations?” Lando conversed with a smile on his face, his eyes meeting yours once again before looking back to the road.

“I have an entire playlist! Give me your phone” You showed Lando your palm gesturing for his phone.

As Lando hands his phone to you, Flo wakes from her sleep and demands food on the way.

“Lando I want food. Y/N please buy me food” The younger Norris pouted at you and his brother.

���What do you want to eat, Babe?” You asked Flo when you saw Lando nod in approval.

“Fish and Chips!” Flo exclaimed with enthusiasm. You saw the look of apprehension of the British Driver but he didn’t say anything— only silently drove to the nearest fry shop instead.

“I’ll be back with food.” You spoke as you went to grab your wallet. Lando was handing his card, but you only grinned at the driver then sticking your tongue out as you exited the vehicle.

“I got this covered London boy!” You teased, earning a laugh from both the Norris siblings.

The food didn’t take too long and before you knew it you were back inside the slick Mclaren as the smell of grease and salt wafting the air.

“Ohhhh, that smells amazing~ did you get us all Fish and Chips, Y/N?” Flo asked as she moved to get her food.

“Babe, Your brother doesn’t like fish. So I bought Chicken and Chips for him instead. While you and I get fish” You replied as you gave Flo her food and drink.

“You got me food too and it’s not fish?” Lando asked you with a look of both admiration and a bit of confusion.

“Mhm, you hate fish, right? So chicken it is!” You smiled at the McLaren Driver as you popped the straw in his diet soda and handed it to him.

You were always thoughtful and sweet to everyone, but Lando saw that you were especially so with Him and his family —you remembered every detail.

An uncomfortable sensation settled on his chest as Lando saw in his mind you sharing the bond you had with his family with the family of your other half.

“Lando! Come on” His train of thought was disturbed by the shouts of his dad. However, the feeling of stuffiness remained.

***

You were walking through the paddock towards Ferrari when you walked into Alexandra and Rebecca along the way. The two wags were sweet and inviting, despite their lives of luxury and glamour; their humility shined especially Charles’ girlfriend.

While you were friendly with Rebecca — you didn’t have anything that connected you other than Carlos Sainz. You always felt a bit of tension with the girl, on her part of course. Maybe because of your close relationship with Carlos, jealousy was a feeling you understood well, so you didn’t hold it against the girl. However, with Alex, Alex just like Flo has found solace in your presence in the paddock. You were the first of the few who welcomed her with smiles and open arms when she first started appearing in races; solidifying your bond with the art graduate.

And so Alexandra was the very first to advise you on the news that ultimately breaks your heart.

“Y/N, I heard from Kika that Lando has been going on dates with a girl named Magui for a couple of weeks now and she says that the girl would be coming to the races in the very near future” Alex gently said as she clutched your arms tighter around hers— offering comfort.

Your breath was caught in your throat and you didn’t know how to reply without bursting into tears.

You thought after Luisinha you had a chance or at least to be closer with the driver. But with rumors swimming around about him dating this Portuguese model with a checkered dating past, your chances grow slimmer and slimmer.

Maybe you were kidding yourself for hoping for Lando to reciprocate your feelings. Maybe you were being overly optimistic when everyone said that Lando would come around. Maybe the best was just to give up.

Maybe it was time to truly let go of Lando Norris.

***

It was impossible to miss each other in the paddock, one way or another Lando and Y/N crossed paths.

It was almost routine for Lando to hear your voice calling out his name as you waved your hand in greeting. A sweet smile was always ready for him.

That’s why shock and bewilderment overcame Lando as you walked past him as if he wasn’t even there. No greeting, no smile, not even a brief eye contact.

You went past the driver as if he weren’t there. As you continued to walk away, Lando couldn’t help but look at your retreating form with hurt— he looked wounded by your indifference.

He then heard your sweet voice calling out a name, but this time it wasn’t his— it was his teammates' name. “Oscar!” You bellowed at the Australian Driver; with a smile that Lando wished was directed at him.

***

It has been a month with Y/N’s interactions with Lando at a standstill. And at this point Lando cannot deny that it drove him mad, that you drove him mad.

He was no longer in denial about his feelings for you. He fully accepted it and he wanted you back. Lando Norris liked you the way you did.

[esthercore]

Cw: Mild Dacryphilia, Gn Reader! Oral, Size kink, dom/sub, a bit non-withdrawable consent if you squint, user has a crush on Capitano, power play

Telling you, I won't slow down, won't slow down Girl, you gotta know right now, there's no way out Imma pull the trigger off And imma let these bullets talk

Capitano glared down at the little soldier in training standing in front of him, their eyes red from crying so hard, cheeks and nose flushed too, the makeshift tent filled with the noise of their sobs.

"Tears will do you no favor, this is the outcome of your own incompetency," he said, yet the way his pants tighten around him crotch by the sound of your pathetic noises.

Silly thing trying fight off some treasure hoarders who tried to meddle with the fatui cargo you were help shipping, only to ruin the supplies yourself, by falling over them. Your posture all wrong, can't even hold a sword properly, yet tried to be a hero just for his attention.

And you did get his attention, alright, especially from his dick who takes a special interest how perfect you look, especially when crying.

"Why not make up to me then, cadet?"

"Ho-"

His finger laid against your lips shushing you, so gentle, as he leaned down so that your forehead can touch the cold metal of his helmet, his hand cupping your face, lightly brushing away the tear stains, "Just be a good doll for me"

His hand patted your head lightly before lightly pushing you down, guiding you to your knees, leaning a bit back, his torso moving ahead, so his clothed dick rub against your face.

Looking up at him for approval, you gained a strong tap on your chin, "Hands on knees, no more waiting." So you followed, hands pressed down, lowering his zipper with your teeth, only to be greeted by the unholiest length in Tevyat, gasping out loud. His pretty uncut cock very thick, and long, veins all visible and the slight up tilt on the tip, oozing out trickles of pre cum on your parted lips.

Tired of your slow pace, he positioned hi hand on the back of your head, pushing it on his cock, making you gag at the sudden intrusion in your throat, causing you to slap his thigs as a reflex, eyes watering again, earning a sharp pull on your hair, forcing his cock deeper in your throat.

"If you can't be useful if the field might as well use your pretty body for something." God how he loved they tears rolling down your cheeks, "Don't act like you haven't been dreaming about this for month, I'm not blind if you aren't aware."

Silly thing want to crush on him? He had all the rumors about you moaning his name in your nightly 'self-care', they way you look at him like he's a god, they way you are unable to not blush around him. A warrior must be observant after all, he notice the way your body moves, how pretty you look while doing anything and everything, how much you are not suitable for the cruel battle grounds, how desperately you need someone to take care of you.

How suitable you are to stand alongside him in public, and how pretty below him in bed, all his to indulge in.

Well if you want him so bad then get ready to be the best cocksleeve in Tevyat and he happily be yours for the eternity, no take backs.

Wrote this honor of him invading my dreams last night, hoping he come or cum back.

[eggsistential-breakdown]

Team Tulpar!!!!!

Highly self indulgent silly Mouthwashing Superhero AU

Led by the esteemed Captain Cosmos, superhero conglomerate Pony Express's Team Tulpar's latest mission is to guard a top-secret mega-important warehouse in the deep recesses of space against raiders and ne'er-do-wells for one year, until Pony Express's client can install a more permanent solution.

Unfortunately, a mysterious accident destroys their only way home and grievously injures their captain. Team Tuplar finds themselves stranded on a faraway asteroid, with only battered pieces of their ship and their all-important super-forbidden warehouse charge to sustain them.

God is not watching.

Notes below the cut, not set in stone:

Pony Express

Known for its cheap and widely available distribution of superhero teams

Common option for emergency time-sensitive threats to capital or goods

Less common option for actual life-threatening emergencies

Superhero teams function pretty much just as security details for hire

Allows a little more individualization than canon Pony Express because of superhero branding

Hence the slightly personalized horseshoe logos and outfits (also for fun)

Going under because of the widespread adoption of automated comprehensive security systems

Dragonbreath's security system just broke down and they're hiring Team Tulpar to safeguard their wares until the Earth shipment of replacement and upgraded parts can arrive in one year

Curly

Gave him a bunch of powers that would be cool in space but ultimately useless against the crash

Edna Mode disapproves of capes for being impractical and dangerous so he's getting one

Debated briefly keeping Curly as his name because it's technically space related but I think it would be a bit too morbid to use as a space related superhero name in universe

Insists his team calls him Curly even on missions

Dissatisfied with his role as a glorified mall cop

Anya

Legally, spacefaring superhero teams need a healer

Legally, Anya cannot be classified as a healer

Pony Express was pretty much the only superhero company willing to take her

Still studying for med school

Her healing powers boil down to keeping you from getting worse and offloading stress on your body in hopes that it can heal you

As long as she's around things at least won't get worse :)

Which is how she's able to keep Curly alive after the incident

May or may not be using her powers to stall her own pregnancy

Definitely the glue holding everything together in canon so wanted to emphasize her importance in keeping everything from going to shit

I'm the iffiest on her superhero name ngl

She can call herself a doctor she deserves it

Tried to throw stripes in her design to reference her canon turtleneck

Daisuke

Useless ray of goddamn sunshine

Basically a very bright flashlight

If he focuses very hard he can create lasers

Can cast movies for entertainment but only as well as he can remember/imagine them

First in his family to have powers, parents pressured him to join a superhero team

Parents also got him a slightly fancier uniform hence the golden accents

Couldn't imagine him without the shirt so he's keeping the shirt

Incorporated a little Swansea yellow

Also wanted him to have a visor to be cool he gets a visor

Swansea

Assigned mentor to Daisuke

Registered his name back in college. Claims it's too much of a hassle to change it now

Keeps shields/helmet/armor? up for the entire time from when the crash happened to when Daisuke dies

He shows the most arm in canon so you bet your ass he's showing the most arm here as well

My friends suggested this name

Wanted him to still get to wield a big-ass axe

Jingleballs

Crashed the ship into the warehouse with Curly in it while Anya, Swansea, and Daisuke were double-checking the warehouse

Wearing a little half cape in part to mimic Curly, in part to try and give him a similar silhouette as his canon short sleeves

Powers pretty much just hurting people and taking from them

When strealing powers, can only use them at 20-40% of the capacity of the power's true owner

"Borrowed" Curly's powers a lot when they were younger under the pretense of Curly should experience gravity for uhh reasons

Had the phrase "there's something 'off' about this guy" when creating his name, also kind of a play on "first 'off'icer", also turning other powers off

Wears the mask and hood up when he wants to obscure his face. Usually happens outside of missions

Misc

Warehouse sits on an asteroid because it's cheap

The crash happens right after a raid, Jimmy accuses Curly of collaborating with raiders

A little less certain that no one will find them, but the crash destroys the location beacon of the warehouse and knocks the asteroid slightly off course

Team Tulpar's ship is a lot smaller, there's no cargo hold

It's also currently partially wedged inside the warehouse and stuck in place with sealing foam

Space is essentially split between the ship with food/medical supplies and the warehouse (mouthwash)

Less of a clear division of roles other than Anya as healer and Curly as leader

I like color coding characters

Had this rattling around in my head for five days please take this

[sizzleissues]

Its May.

Okay so this is in the same AU I had last year its just changed and evolved while also being the exact same. Except now I have 15,000 words of it written, like 7,000 words of planning and lore and hours upon hours of research that I will be pointedly ignoring. Will be posting more stuff this month about the AU and my hopes and dreams for it

Also slight art improvement check? I’ll put their original mermaid designs below the cut.

It’s Marinette as a mermaid and … its not Adrien or Chat Noir but a third worse thing (Catwalker but in the purest manifestation of it being a curse and not who he wants to be) I will be making designs for mer!Ladybug, and mer!Adrien as its own thing later on.

Okay if you want to indulge me look below the cut

Old mermaid designs first. I am going to be talking about my design thoughts, thoughts and ramblings about this AU and what I’ve been up to. You have been warned

As you can see, some things have changed but neither design I hated, I just wanted to go further with it.

My brain is quite specific about mermaids and how I want them to generally look. I wanted to distinguish biological merfolk from transformed humans by having them being anatomically different. So Adrien has a vertical tail instead which is also way faster underwater. His transformation is quite distressing for him and very chaotic. Of course when he accepts it he’s not so raggedy.

Marinette similarly avoids her life as a mermaid by becoming human and I wanted her mermaid design to hint toward her fascination with humans. She wears a top she fashioned from human fabric she found in a sunken merchant vessel. In general all other merfolk either forgo clothes or wear things fashioned from materials available to them. There’s deep fear of humans and human things so even though human clothes are available to them (off dead bodies but…. Whatever) they choose to difference themselves as much as possible. The same taboos don’t exist for them and their bodies are already adapted from the temperature of their environment. Adrien has stray bits of netting and seaweed on him because he’s not exactly the best at controlling his speed and often crash’s through fishing nets and patches of seaweed resulting in stuff being caught on him.

A lot of their designs are still being worked but I’ve definitely pushed them the right direction!

On to the AU. You might have seem me cryptically talk about something I’m writing the past few weeks. This is because it’s been in my brain since last May and been on and off writing it since then. I decided I’d talk about it once May came back around but and then when I finished writing it, start posting sneak peaks and more spoilery art until it was fully edited and I felt confident in it to post with an aim for it to finish posting once May rolled around again. Oh god.

It’s set in the late 1700s in a fictional version of France that’s actually fragmented over a bunch of islands. I have done more fashion research than I ever thought I’d do and in the end we will still be taking creative license but know I do know what they actually wore! I ALSO did a butt tonne of research about sailing ships and turns out they are super complicated and now I know too much and yet too little still about them. It should be super fun and action packed if I can manage. Have some really good scenes already in my head I know you’ll love. We’re already three ships battle deep and I’ve only written four chapters. (It chills out for a bit after that)

This is entirely self-indulgent by the way. I’m writing this for me, you guys are just a bonus. I literally don’t care as long as it satiates my rabid need for the fic that only lives in my brain at the moment. Saying that, I do want to put my best foot forward.

The next thing I will be posting for this is their human forms and more blabblerings about that. For I am insane and all.

[yayakoishii]

Want | Sanji x Chubby! Reader

Fandom: One Piece

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x Chubby! Reader

WC: 5.5k

Genre: Fluff, slight Angst

Warnings: Sexual harrasment, derogatory terms for chubby people, mentions of blood, insecurities that lead to a bit of light self derogation (Please remember you're absolutely beautiful as you are <3)

A/n: The response on Hunger is insane. Over 700 likes?! I didn't expect much beyond a few 10-20 likes, thank you for all the love 😭 This is another self indulgent fic, more personal to me because I'm chubby myself so... I'm not super proud of the pacing tbh, but it's still pretty good, in my (biased) opinion, haha. I hope you enjoy it!!! ♡

also available on ao3!

When you joined the Straw Hat crew, you didn't expect to fall in love with the blonde chef.

Actually, when you joined them, you weren't in the mindset to think about love and silly crushes. Your island had been destroyed by the Marines for a 'good cause' and despite the Straw Hats' best attempt, you were the only remaining survivor. Luffy kindly offered you a place on his crew, and you joined as an assistant to Chopper, slowly learning from him.

The first few weeks after you joined were tough for you, who had never travelled outside of your island. It took time to get used to the environmental changes along with the emotional grief of losing all your loved ones. The crew tried their best to cheer you up in their own ways, and you would forever be grateful for every one of them for at least trying, even if their methods weren't the most effective for you. It was the thought and the sentiment behind it that counted.

But what did work for you was… food. Ever since you were a child, you had loved food and it was the way you connected to life. Though you were not the greatest cook out there, you were capable of making things that were edible and quite good at times. On the ship though, you never had to cook, because Sanji would always do all the cooking. Whenever you offered to help, to take your mind off the pain you were feeling, he would kindly decline, saying that he would make you whatever you wanted.

But he couldn't. The dishes from your island were not recipes known quite to the rest of the world. Hell, even you didn't know all of them, save for some of your favourite foods that you had learnt from your mother. So you snuck in after dinner and made a dish from your hometown. It wasn't the best food you ever cooked, but it still meant something to you, because you were reminded of home.

You wrote down all the recipes you knew into a book, and kept it close. Whenever you missed your home, you would sneak into the kitchen at night and make yourself something with your wonky cooking skills that made the dish taste different every time. Still, the familiarity was enough to comfort you and let you wallow in the grief at the same time.

Until one day, you couldn't find your book.

"Nami?" You called unsurely to the navigator, who was lying on the deck under shade next to Robin. Behind them, Sanji was serving drinks. The three looked at you in question and suddenly under the scrutiny, your confidence faltered. "Um, uh.. d- did you see a journal somewhere? I can't find mine…"

"The brown one?" She asked, pushing her sunglasses up into her hair. You nodded frantically, hoping she knew. "I don't think I did. Did you check under your bed?"

"I did," you whispered, feeling the sadness wash over you again. It's not like you didn't still remember the recipes, but your memory wasn't the best. Without the book, it would be hard to remember them all.

"Don't worry, we'll find it," Nami got up and reassured you, looking concerned. "Sanji. Robin."

The two of them nodded along and then the four of you were searching for it everywhere, until Sanji had to excuse himself apologetically because he had to go cook lunch. You could only nod, trying not to get down in the dumps again over a book, but it felt a little hopeless. Until you heard Sanji shout from the kitchen. The three of you ran over to find him scolding Luffy, your journal in his hand.

"I just wanted to see what was in it!" Luffy pouted, his rubbery hands swinging around to try and get it back.

"That's an invasion of privacy, Luffy!" Sanji looked angry, but you were too relieved about the fact that you had found the book to get upset with Luffy.

"It's okay," you said, reaching forward to get the book. "It's just… recipes, Luffy. From my hometown."

There was silence in the kitchen for a few seconds and Luffy's face dropped into a serious look.

"I'm sorry," he said, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "I thought… If I knew how to help you, you'd be happier."

It made you laugh softly, your heart warm at his kind intentions.

"Thank you, Captain," you smiled at him, eyes crinkling into crescent moons. "I am happy here. I just… miss my home, sometimes."

He wrapped you into a hug and Nami ruffled your hair a little. You smiled under the attention, holding the book close. Sanji for once was quiet, just staring at the book thoughtfully, though you didn't notice it then.

A few days after that event, Sanji called you to the kitchen before lunchtime. Curiously, you followed him to find… a plate of your favourite dish from your hometown. It was plated beautifully, making it look fancy and yet it still had that homey feeling to it. Sanji didn't say a word, just held out the chair for you to sit. You sat down in a daze, too focused on the smell of it lingering in the room.

It smelled like home.

And when you tasted it, you burst into tears. Because it tasted like home. It tasted exactly like your mom's. All the tears you had held back to not worry the crew were now spilling out without any end but you didn't care. Here, where only Sanji could see you, you let it all out. He didn't say anything, just placed a gentle hand on your shoulder and squeezed to let you know he's there for you. You turned around to face him, but the tears made it all blurry. Knocking your head against his stomach, you cried harder.

Sanji just held your head, carding fingers through your hair in comfort, offering you a handkerchief. That, you realised later, was the moment your feelings for Sanji began.

✿

After that day, you became a lot happier. Somehow, without words, just eating the food that Sanji made was enough to heal your broken heart bit by bit. Sometimes, he made extra because Luffy was curious and wanted to taste it too; and then the whole crew wanted it so Sanji made a few of your dishes for dinner. In that moment, surrounded by the smell of home, around your new family, your heart finally started healing.

You started noticing Sanji everywhere after you got used to life on the Thousand Sunny. From the small things he does, to the loud expressions of love he made, everything about him seemed wonderful and warm to you. Because you knew that beneath his overt affections for all the ladies, he was an infinitely kind, caring and observant person. How were you supposed to not fall for him, when he went above and beyond for you?

And yet, for all his admissions of love, you never believed that he could truly like you back like you felt for him. You were after all, not the prettiest girl around and you knew that. You were not slim like Nami or Robin, and it's not like you absolutely hated your soft and squishy body. But you wondered if Sanji would like you even though you weren't pretty.

All that self consciousness went out the window every time you were in his presence. He never made you feel less, or ugly– in fact, the way he spoke to you always left you a blushing mess. He made you feel special, and in the moment, it would be enough. Until you saw him fawning over Nami or Robin, and then the sneaky voice in your brain would whisper quiet thoughts comparing you to them. You had no chance with him, and you knew that.

And that was fine. You could live with that, couldn't you? You had to, because wanting more than you should never ended well. All it would leave behind is rejection, hurt and awkwardness. So you pressed down the feelings and acted as normally as you could.

The moment you realised that you loved Sanji was probably a memory you would never forget. Although it was unforgettable for you, it probably wasn't particularly that unique to others. That didn't matter to you because it was a memory you cherished ultimately.

It happened when the ship docked on a peaceful little island. Everyone else was going out to enjoy their time, and you wanted to spend that time with Sanji. So, casually, you made your request.

"Sanji?" Your timid utterance of his name got an instant reaction from the chef, who straightened up and looked at you with hearts in his eyes.

"Yes, (y/n)-chan?" He asked, tilting his head slightly.

"Um, you're gonna go grocery shopping, right?" You had seen Nami complaining while handing him the money for the shopping.

"That's right," he leaned closer, almost too close but not quite into your personal bubble. Still, the proximity was enough for you to smell the mild smell of his perfume that left you a little weak in the knees. "Did you want me to get something for you, sweetheart?"

"I just," you hesitated, suddenly scared that he might realise your feelings and get disgusted. No, Sanji wasn't like that, you had to remind yourself. He would never treat you unkindly, even if he knew your feelings. "I heard you always do it alone. I thought you might enjoy some company?"

The hearts in Sanji's eyes disappeared as he stared at you like you were speaking gibberish for a few seconds. Under the intensity of that stare, you fidgeted and waited for his response.

"You're too kind, (y/n)-chan!" He finally cried, holding up your hands in his own bigger and colder ones. You flushed at the action, stammering out an actual gibberish response this time before you were whisked away by the blonde chef to town.

It felt all too much like a date to you, when you walked next to him. Sanji somehow made grocery shopping fun, or maybe that was just because of how much you liked him that anything with him was enjoyable? It didn't matter, you decided, because whichever it was, you couldn't deny that Sanji was equivalent to the sun on a cold day.

He enthusiastically showed you around, as if you were a tourist and he were a guide (when in fact, it was the first time in this town for both of you) causing you to giggle. Whenever you stopped to buy things, he would humour your curious questions on how to pick which vegetable and what cuts of which meat are the best. It felt awfully like a domestic date, one that made you smile when you imagined doing this with Sanji years down the line every week.

"And that's the last of it!" Sanji said happily, picking up the last bag. He was holding all the bags since the start, despite your insistence and now you were anxious, seeing him hold so many bags in his hands.

"Sanji, let me hold a few," you tried again, hands reaching out to take some of them. But Sanji just turned around so you couldn't reach the bags and grinned down at you.

"Nonsense, how could I let such a delicate lady hold such heavy bags?" His words made you flush in embarrassment. You were not delicate in any sense; surely, Sanji knew that too. And in spite of all his sincerity, the word just felt like it was mocking you.

"I'm… not…," you struggled to say, not wanting to argue but unable to keep it in either. With your chubby frame, no one had ever considered you as delicate.

"Let me do this for you, my love," Sanji's voice was soft and infinitely gentle, as if he was indeed holding something fragile in his hands. "I wouldn't feel good letting you carry anything when I'm more than capable."

"But Sanji!" you lightly whined, wringing your hands. "I don't feel good letting you carry all the burden either! Come on, just a few bags?"

Before Sanji could respond, you heard a scared squeak. Your brows furrowed and you looked around the marketplace, finding a man cornering a girl a few feet behind Sanji. She seemed uncomfortable and he was all in her personal space, saying something in a rough, sleazy voice that gave you shivers.

You were not a fighter, but the instinct to protect her overtook the rational part of your brain and you crossed the distance to where they were. Pushing him back, you stood in front of the girl to block her from him.

"Can't you see she's uncomfortable?" You said coldly. "Back off."

The man took an involuntary step back until his eyes fell on you. He reeked of alcohol and smoke and you felt like puking from the putrid stench coming off him but you held it together, trying to come off as more confident than you felt. His eyes roamed over your body shamelessly, and you felt dirty and uncomfortable from the action.

"Don't get in our business, fatty," he grinned, the smell of alcohol doubling the moment he opened his mouth. "Are you jealous that no one will ever give you the attention she's getting?"

The words stabbed you in the gut, even though you knew rationally that you were better off without the bad attention. That was the one perk of being conventionally average in looks– no one really looked at you, in good ways or bad. Or maybe you had just been lucky so far. But hearing him call you that, saying those words, even from someone like him, it hurt a small part of you. Before you could respond, a leg in black slacks came up and kicked the man down with such a force that everybody around paused, shocked by the sudden action.

Even you stepped back automatically, gasping when you saw that it was Sanji, still balancing all the bags perfectly while he had roundhouse kicked the man into the ground with so much force that you could see his teeth had become bloody and he was on the verge of unconsciousness.

"(Y/n)-chan doesn't need the attention of sewer rats like you," he said calmly, straightening back into position smoothly. "Her beauty only deserves the best of the best."

The sight of Sanji saying that with a calm face, his hair slightly tousled, his hands balancing the bags and his leg muscles rippling under the slacks – that image was imprinted in your heart and brain for the rest of your life. The words sent you into a shock, but when they finally processed, you couldn't deny the overwhelming realisation that crashed into you.

You love Sanji.

It wasn't just a silly crush, or something that could go away if you gave it time. The chef had unknowingly carved himself a place into your heart. He was taking over it, chamber by chamber.

"Sanji…" The word came out as a whisper, inaudible under the din of the market as people were talking about what was going on. You snapped out of it when you felt the girl behind you shuffle and you immediately squashed your thoughts down to examine them later. You turned around and asked her, "Are you okay?"

She looked very alarmed and upset, but she still shot you a grateful smile as she murmured, "Yes, thanks to you two."

"He didn't hurt you?" You asked, hands hovering over her as you looked to ensure if she was safe. A peek of crimson caught your eye when she raised her hand to rub her face. Her elbows had scraped against the rough brick wall in his tousling. "You have some scratches!"

"Oh," she turned her arms to look at the wounds, now feeling the burn after the adrenaline and fear response was receding.

"Come on, I'll treat it for you," you offered, opening your sling bag which had some emergency first aid. You usually carried it around for the members when you were off the ship, knowing that they were all too reckless to give a second thought to any wounds.

"Oh, no, no, I couldn't trouble you more!" She said, mortified but you gently shook your head, offering her a hand.

"It's no trouble," you reassured her. It took a little bit of convincing but she eventually calmed down and let you clean up the wound before you parted. Finally, you allowed yourself to look at Sanji, who immediately schooled his features so you wouldn't see the warm adoring look he was giving you the whole time. "Sanji… Are you okay too? You didn't hurt yourself, did you?"

"Do you think I'm that weak, sweetheart?" He smiled teasingly, but you felt the need to defend yourself.

"I know you are strong," you insisted, worrying your lower lip as you tried to look him straight in the eyes but kept getting flustered. "But even strong people get wounds. Just because they are strong, doesn't mean that they don't feel the pain. So tell me honestly, Sanji. Are you hurt anywhere?'

"No," he promised. "But if you're that worried, I'll let you check me all out back on the ship."

He ended that with a wink, and this time, you couldn't hold back the flush threatening to overtake your face again. Sanji couldn't help making the mood light again, but he had no idea of the effect his words had on you.

"Stupid," you weakly pawed at his arm, walking away before he could say anything. The blonde chef just laughed and followed you, face once again soft and fond as he watched you.

✿

Sanji may have been one of the only people onboard who was oblivious to your feelings, because a few of them did figure it out after watching the way you interacted with him. The first ones to realise were Nami and Robin, who called you out on it when the three of you were lying under the shade on the sunny deck.

"Really?" Nami had scrunched her nose, eyes critically analysing Sanji as he walked (danced, really) back to the kitchens after serving drinks to the three of you.

"Really what?" You asked, too busy sipping the cool drink to notice that she had noticed the way you had warmly thanked Sanji and given him a bright smile.

"Sanji?" Nami gave you a pointed look. The name made you freeze, and you tried to play it off.

"What about him?"

"Oh, come on!" Nami threw the slice of lemon that was on her drink. You caught it before it could fall on your shirt and muttered an indignant 'hey!' that the navigator ignored. "You like him, don't you?"

The words were enough to make you hide your face in embarrassment. Robin was smiling knowingly from the other side of Nami and you felt exposed, like they had both just turned you inside out.

"I do," you whispered after the few minutes of silent mortification that Nami had spent in self satisfaction.

"Why that loser though?" She said without any real bite. You knew she wasn't actually demeaning him; it was affectionate, in the way one would talk about their sibling's lovelife.

"Because!" You whispered, eyes running everywhere to check if no one else was around to hear you. "Have you looked at him? He's literally so pretty! He is kind, caring, and so, so thoughtful and generous. Without expecting anything in return, he is always giving and giving and he makes my stomach do silly things. He has curly eyebrows, Nami! I didn't think those could look good on anyone. Hell, I know I would look ugly with them, but he makes it work! It suits him, and he's so beautiful and I'm just–"

You collapsed onto your chair, your wet fingers from the condensation on the drink glass finding purchase in the dips of your face to hide it. Just talking about him was enough to get your heart beating fast, and the mortification of what you had just spilled to the two girls made you want the ground to swallow you already.

"You really like him," Robin's soft observation made you relax. She wasn't teasing you. You turned to look at her and caught the comforting smile she was sending your way.

"I was going to say you could do better," Nami turned to face you, swinging her feet around to your side, "but after hearing all that, I think… You two are perfect for each other. Despite all his antics, he has a good heart. And you'll be good for him, because you see him as he is."

"Yeah?" You couldn't help the small flower of hope blossoming in your chest.

"Really," Nami smiled, a rare genuine smile that was usually reserved for late night talks and reassurances in down times.

"You don't think…." You trailed off, fidgeting with the hem of your top, "he won't… find me good enough?"

"Are you crazy?" Nami snorted, picking up her drink. The melted ice had made the level go up so much that it was threatening to spill any moment. "You're better than anything he could dream of. I told you, didn't I? You would be good for him. Having someone like you in his life to ground him, I think there's nothing better than that. You're one of the sweetest people I have ever met. If anyone here isn't good enough, it's him."

"Hey now," you frowned, ready to defend Sanji but hearing his voice stopped you.

"Who isn't good enough for (y/n)-chan?" His face was stuck in a weird smile, like he was forcing it. He carefully placed the plate of pastries he had brought as he continued casually despite the silence, "I don't know who we are talking about but Nami-chan is right. No one is good enough for our lovely (y/n)-chan."

"Oh, look at that!" You hurriedly switched the topic, looking at the plate he had brought. The tiny pastries were adorable and colourful, looking so delicious that it would have made your mouth water if you weren't distracted at the moment. "This looks so good, Sanji. Seriously, if you keep feeding me like this, my weight will keep increasing!"

The last line became a teasing complaint, but you didn't expect Sanji to come to the side of your chair and lean down to where you were tilted. The proximity caused your eyes to widen, the blood thundering in your ears as he carefully tucked in a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, face so soft and warm that it make your insides feel like they were vibrating.

"All the more for me to love, so I would keep winning, wouldn't I, sweetheart?"

You choked, and the need to get away from him before you did something wild like grab him and kiss him got so much that your knee accidentally shot up and into Sanji's back, pushing him forward. The chef's eyes widened at the sudden attack, but he managed to not collapse on you by quickly holding onto the sides of the chair but now you were trapped in between his arms on top of the close proximity.

It made you so weak in the knees, and there was something hot and warm curling in your gut as you stammered gibberish, feeling like you were about to faint because Sanji's chest was practically touching yours and it was all too much.

"SORRY!" He hurriedly backed off the moment he got his bearings, and for the first time since you had come onboard, you saw him have a genuinely heavily flushed face. There was a little blood starting to leak from one of his nostrils and somehow, it helped you calm down. He was just as affected as you were. The idea was enough to lessen your embarrassment by a little.

"I'm the one who's sorry, Sanji," you said remorsefully, hiding your face completely in your hands this time. "I kicked you!"

"It wasn't on purpose," he said, right hand coming up to hide the blush on his own face. "I'm sorry for… for making you uncomfortable, (y/n)-chan!"

Uncomfortable? Did Sanji have any clue just how comfortable you actually felt? The problem wasn't that you were uncomfortable in the proximity; it was that you were too comfortable, to the point that you never wanted to leave. But that would be a dead giveaway of your feelings, right?

"Okay, this is just painful to watch now," Nami sighed, jolting the two of you. You had nearly forgotten that she and Robin were right there, and they had seen everything. She looked at you unhappily, mouth set in a tight line. "How about you two get a room and make out there?"

"Nami!" You cried out. She really just gave away your crush like that?!

"Just be grateful I'm not demanding money to make up for what I just had to witness," she sniffed haughtily, swinging her legs back onto the chair and pulling down her sunglasses. "Seriously, you two, go talk shit out. Or else, knowing you, you will just be awkward around each other and that's gonna be even more painful to watch."

She wasn't totally wrong. You were planning to avoid him, possibly by jumping off the Sunny and drowning to death since you didn't know how to swim. But that wasn't really a solution and even you could admit that.

"W- What's there to talk-?" Sanji seemed a little scared, wide eyes glancing between the three of you. Nami ignored him, and you were too flustered to look him in the eyes. Nami's suggestion was essentially for you to come clean, wasn't it? But that was easier said than done. The fear of rejection and the eventual awkwardness was gripping your insides in a chokehold, and you couldn't move your feet even if you tried.

"Sanji," Robin said calmly. "Pick up (y/n) and go to the kitchen."

"Huh?" You were startled at her words. Pick you up?! No way! "No, no way, I'm too… I'm too heavy, there's no need for that!" Even as you said that, you couldn't actually bring yourself to move.

"I don't really get it," Sanji admitted, looking between the three of you as he spoke, "but I can do that. (Y/n)-chan?"

"No, Sanji–" the protests died down the moment he bent down and picked you up like you weighed nothing. Even as he walked you across the deck, you couldn't help but think that it was kind of hot just how easily he picked you up. "Sanji…"

He didn't look at you until you were in the kitchen and the door was closed behind the two of you. He walked over to the table and then carefully placed you on it, as if you were a teacup made of fine china teetering with tea. Finally, he let his clear blue eyes stare down at you, the expression on his face more vulnerable and exposed than you had ever seen on him.

"Sanji?"

"I know I made you uncomfortable," he said quietly, backing away. His hands came up to rub away the blood but it only made it spread around and you winced at seeing that. You never wanted to see any blood on Sanji, if you could help it. "I touched your… you. It wasn't my intention, I swear! I just, I wanted, I–"

He abruptly shut up, looking frustrated with himself.

"Sanji."

He didn't look up, fists clenching at his side the moment you said his name.

"Come here, Sanji," you whispered, holding out your hands to beckon him closer. His eyes flickered over your face, as if trying to gauge out what you were feeling, even as he followed through your request without a second thought. You pulled out the handkerchief he had given you long back, and wiped away the blood over his upper lip and cheeks carefully before you picked up his hand. The thumb was bloody too, so you gently held the limb in one of your hands and wiped it with the other. "You didn't make me uncomfortable, Sanji."

He stayed quiet as you continued to wipe it until it was all gone.

"Didn't I?" He said the moment you were done.

"No," you said, looking up at him. You didn't let go of the hand, though you dropped the handkerchief beside you. Somehow, holding his hand seemed to give you the courage to make the admission Nami had told you to. "I… Sanji, I like you. A lot more than I ever thought it was possible to feel towards someone. I like you so much that it physically hurts when I see you flirting with other women. I like you so much that my heart feels warm whenever you are around, and I feel so safe in your arms that I never want to leave. I like it when you are close to me. But I know that you don't like me like that, so whenever you get so close, and I can't help but want you so much, it's painful for me. I never want to let you go."

Sanji's eyes darkened with every word you spoke, a gradual change that you didn't notice at first because you were all in over your head. His hands hovered around your waist as you finished.

"Who told you?" His voice was a little hoarse, and he cleared his throat the moment he realised how desperate he sounded.

"Told me what?" You asked timidly, looking down at your lap.

"That I don't like you?" Sanji's voice was a broken whisper like yours had been. "I have never heard anything more untrue than that. All this time, I wanted you but I kept my feelings to myself. Because you deserve so much, so much more than I am, so much more than I can give. I wanted and I wanted and I felt so greedy, wanting more and more of you, more than you would let me have– I wanted anything you were ready to give, and I also wanted everything you have to give. I thought you wouldn't want someone like me, when there are so many better options around for you–"

"What?" You couldn't help but laugh. All his words were making you delirious; this had to be some wild dream you had conjured up. It didn't feel real. None of it did. "I had better options around? Sanji, I was so sure you would never look twice at me! I never felt like I was pretty enough, or good enough to get your attention and you're telling me… I had better options? That's so–"

You kept laughing, body shaking from the weight of the laughter. Sanji stared at you, unsure hands still hovering around you. His fingers twitched from holding back the urge to pull you into him.

"You are the prettiest girl I have ever seen," he mumbled. "Not good enough to get my attention? Darling, you have had all of my attention ever since I met you. No other woman could compare to you from the moment you made your place in my heart known."

"Did I really have all your attention?" You asked, letting your insecurities bubble up. Now that you were both being honest, it was better to get it all out of the way, right? "Even when you looked at the other women…"

"I never looked at them the way I did you," his words were sincere, and in that moment, they were enough. You looked up at him, and your body broke into shivers the moment you realised the heat in his eyes as he stared down at you; like you were some unique dish he was finally getting the chance to eat after years of craving it.

"I didn't want the other options, Sanji," you whispered, the volume enough for the proximity you were in. "The only one I ever wanted was you."

You held his collars and pulled him in, and it was like he finally snapped, now that he had permission. His hands immediately grasped at your sides, gently holding the soft flesh there as he kissed you. And now it was your time to give and give, while he took from you like your lips were spilling with ambrosia and he was determined to get every drop. His warm breath fanned over your lips and the goosebumps on your skin rose again, your fingers tightening around the collars of his shirt.

When he let your lips go, he was greeted with the sight of your flushed and pleasantly buzzed expression, like you were drunk on him. Seeing you like that, because of him, it was enough to get him groaning.

"So beautiful," he whispered, leaving feather light kisses all over your face. "So gorgeous. All for me. All… for me to have?"

"Yeah," you whispered, looking up at him and seeing the devastated yet over-the-moon expression on Sanji's face. Even without words, he could always just cleave into your heart and press himself within its walls like they were made to fit him, and only him. "You can be greedy. Take all you want. I'm all yours."

°•❀•°

[radio-fmm]

Enough

Zoro x reader

Hurt/comfort + gn reader

1k words, very self indulgent

Masterlist

“FUCK” you scream in annoyance tossing your weapon across the room, plomping down with your hands shielding your face as you pant from exhaustion, frustration aching at every bone

The last few week’s training had become more of a chore, scratch that, an inconvenience. Your mind seemed to be wondering elsewhere, anywhere but where your feet stand making you fail over and over again, not landing a single hit for hours on end. You had tried everything, taking it slow, harsh, even bribing yourself saying ‘If I land this hit I’ll buy me something nice’ just to end up in disappointment

Having no results at something you’ve been great at for years and years, that had gotten you the place at your captains crew was like a dagger digging into your skin, as another day passed where you couldn’t even get through the first exercise in your routine.

The sound of slow and steady footsteps met your ears making you shield yourself further, hiding your face in the corner of the room fighting the tears that threatened to flow

“You ok?” Zoros low and raspy voice calls for you, his tone monotone

You don’t even spare him a glance before you let out a heavy sigh “Clearly not”

Everyone in the ship had noticed your drastic shift in behavior. Every time you’d come down from the crows nest, your face was bright red, feet stumping as you smashed the door of your quarters shut, not talking to anyone for at least an hour

Zoro knew exactly what it was as he had witnessed your frustration while he shared the training room form time to time. You would grunt and stomp your feet like a child, telling yourself everything from words of encouragement to degrading venomous things as you tried and tried to get at least one hit.

But he never said a thing

Until you stopped coming down for dinners, sleeping in more and more often, spending your days rotting, nor a smile or a laugh leaving your mouth. That natural glow and silly sweet personality you carried slowly fading away as the days passed, and he couldn’t have that

The swordsman sat down at your side, arms crossed across his wide chest while his mind reeled. Zoro clearly was not on his element, he had searched of the right words to say, the right timing, but he quickly came to the realization that there’s no such thing, he just had to be blunt

“Stop beating yourself up” to his surprise you shake your head frantically, there goes his words of encouragement

“I am just trying to be useful for the crew, if I can’t be that might as well throw me out in the ocean” your words linger in the air, making Zoro frown and stabbing your own heart

“Is this what everything’s about?” You sit right up and stare back at him confused, he looks annoyed

“What?”

“You’re beating yourself up because you don’t feel useful?”

Zoro waches the rapid speed in which your chest rises and falls, your lungs fighting to find the air they so much need, teardrops falling in your cheeks

“I-“ you choke out, your voice betraying you but your eyes fixated on the swordsman, a quiet call for help but he waits, clinging at your every word

“I am not as strong as you Zoro, or as smart as Robin, as entertaining as Brook and Ussop, or as caring as Sanji and Chopper, as important as Franky and Nami… I always give my 200% so that I fulfill my role but sometimes, sometimes I can’t even get to 50%” your hands are quick to wash your salty tears away, embarrassed by how vulnerable you had allowed yourself to be, but if you were to keep your feelings inside any longer you were going to fall apart

“You are our crew mate”- Zoro spoke with his usual standoffish tone, yet it sounded more soft and reassuring as other times you had conversed.- “You are not some clown or some soldier, you’re here because Luffy saw something in you, he believed in you as we all do here, you don’t have to prove yourself” your head started to shake once more but Zoro was quick to shut down your insecurities, one of his hands holding your forearm giving it a light squeeze

“You’re enough” his words got stuck in your heart, warming it and finally releasing the dreadful thoughts that had been plaguing you for days

You break down crying, head falling on his sculptured chest holding onto the swordsman like your lifeline “I am so tired”- you whispered between sobs. Zoro was taken aback but didn’t tried to pull away, instead holding your frame close, hands drawing soothing circles in your back as you let go finally. And there he sat, wetting his shirt with your tears but he didn’t cared, being strong all the time could be tiring he knows this better than anyone, as well as how you had to always show up and be strong to protect yourself

But now he was here to do so

Your sobs died down as your breath aligned to the beating of his heart thrumming in your ears, you thank him, eyes glittering back at his gaze that seemed to have softened, he brushes the matter off but Zoro is more than happy to had been of service, lifting the heavy burden from your back

“Now, go rest” and for the first time in weeks, you smile

That smile he had so missed making his heart jump and skip several beats, a warm feeling spreading all over his being, and glad you’re back to yourself just as he wanted. It may sound selfish but he doesn’t care, he wants you back

“You’re far more emotionally intelligent than people give you credit for mosshead” he rolls his eyes trying to hide his swelling pride

“I am just that great” you nudge him before standing up making your way out, his eyes never leaving you as if preoccupied something would bother you again in his absence

As you slip to sleep that night, you can finally truly rest, your body letting go of the tension that had build up, worries washing away like the tides crashing against the ship, the moonlight and the sound of the ocean lulling you to have the best sleep of your life

All thanks to your swordsman

[hazbinwhoree]

Okay so I’m violently obsessed w this man and your writings so… can I request something way too self indulgent and specific ? If this is too much feel free to ignore this ask but an Adam x fallen angel!reader who before she fell was his third wife in heaven for like a few hundred years unaware of the exterminations and when she finds out she and Adam argue and it results in her wings being ripped off and her cast to hell… and once in hell she keeps a low profile and her identity a secret. But sees about the hazbin hotel on TV and goes to offer her help to Charlie because even tho she knows she can’t go back to heaven, it’d be nice to help some sinners if possible. Not expecting things to ramp up so much and involve Adam. But like… if the angelic dagger nifty stabbed him with didn’t kill him, say charlie and reader take him into the newly built hotel and reader tries to nurse him back to health and there’s angst bc it’s been 20 years since he basically cast his own wife, his angel to rot in hell??

Sorry if you hate this idea n don’t wanna do it I totally don’t blame you I’m just on Adam brain rot and have a handful of self inserts/ocs to ship a him in different AUs but this is my favorite despite how cheesy it probably is

Twenty Years in Eternity

“What do you mean exterminate them?” (Name) asks, appalled. “Exactly what it fuckin’ sounds like, babe,” Adam laughed. “It’s population control!” “Population control!? It’s murder!” “I don’t know why you’re getting so worked up about this,” Adam scoffed.

“Because not every sinner in Hell deserves to be there!”

Silence. (Name) had just proclaimed blasphemy. Adam’s eyes moved to something behind her and his face dropped. “(Name).” (Name) turned around to find Sera, looking down at her in disapproval. “Such blasphemy is not tolerated in Heaven,” Sera said coldly.

Adam couldn’t do anything as Sera knocked (Name) to the ground, and abruptly tore off her wings. (Name) screamed. Sera opened a portal overlooking Hell, and grabbed (Name). “Adam help!” (Name) cried, struggling. Adam could only stand and watch. Neither of them were any match for Sera, who threw (Name) into the portal and shut it behind her.

And that was the last Adam saw of his wife for twenty years.

In Hell, (Name) found her way as a Fallen, until she heard about the Princess of Hell’s endeavor to rehab sinners to go to Heaven. Intrigued, (Name) made her way to the Hotel one day. She knew Heaven would never accept this plan, but she didn’t want to kill Charlie’s spirits.

(Name) quickly became a permanent fixture of the hotel, befriending the inhabitants. She got particularly close to Angel Dust.

Every year, during the extermination, she would hide, not out of fear for her life, the exorcists didn’t kill the Fallen, but so that she didn’t have to deal with the pain of seeing the angels and run the risk of seeing Adam.

Unbeknownst to her, Adam searched for her during every extermination.

(Name) was shocked when Charlie giddily announced that she had secured a meeting with Heaven. She hadn’t been expecting Heaven to let her get this far.

But further she did not get, coming back from the meeting absolutely fuming.

“What happened?” (Name) asked. “The guy was such a… such a… prick!” “Shot down the hotel idea?” “Adam didn’t even let me finish my presentation. He said Hell is forever whether we like it or not. And he cut the extermination time in half, they’re coming back in six months!”

(Name)’s blood ran cold. “Adam?”

“Yeah, like the first man, Adam. He was such an asshole.”

“Yeah that sounds like him,” (Name) muttered.

Charlie looked at her funny. “Did you know him when you were an angel?”

“Know him? I was married to him.”

Charlie’s jaw dropped. “You’re his third wife!?” (Name) nodded. “Unfortunately.”

“He talked about you,” Charlie said. “It was the only time he actually sounded genuine.” “What did he say?” (Name) couldn’t help her curiosity.

“He said that Hell is forever, and if someone like his wife could end up there with no chance out, sinners were certainly not leaving.”

(Name) hummed. “He sounded kind of sad,” Charlie said. “I think he misses you.” “Yeah, well, it’s been twenty years. He’ll get over it. He sure didn’t do anything to stop me from ending up here. We were fighting over the extermination.”

“That’s what got you sent here?” Charlie asked. (Name) nodded. “I’m sorry,” is all Charlie could say.

Weeks passed and she managed to get another meeting with Heaven, this time going past Adam and straight to the Seraphim. (Name) had no idea how she did it, but knew the results would be the same in the end.

When Charlie and Vaggie came tumbling through the portal, Charlie more upset than (Name) had ever seen her, she knew she had been right.

“He said he’s attacking the hotel first!” Charlie cried, throwing herself into Angel’s arms. “Who, Adam?” (Name) asked, feeling nauseous. “Yes!” “It’s okay, Charlie, we’ll stand our ground and defend the hotel. Remember, angels can die. We just need to get our hands on some angelic metal,” Vaggie soothed.

The next month was spent preparing for battle. (Name) was going to stay out of it, and Charlie understood. (Name) figured there wasn’t much she could contribute anyway. So when the extermination came, she locked herself in her room.

She could hear the battle raging outside, and it sounded like her side was losing. She almost went out to help, until she heard Adam’s sadistic laugh outside her window. She remembered why she wasn’t involving herself. She couldn’t face Adam.

(Name) was content staying put, until she no longer had a choice, the hotel splitting in half. She very nearly got crushed in the rubble, but somehow made it out unharmed. As she lay on the ground catching her breath, she heard a familiar, angry voice. “I started everything on Earth! All of mankind came from these nuts!”

(Name) looked up to see Adam’s back as he screamed at Lucifer and Charlie. She also saw Nifty, running up behind Adam with a knife. “NO!” (Name) cried out, but it was too late. Nifty plunged the blade through Adam’s back. Adam choked, body freezing for a moment before he fell on his stomach.

Nifty raised the blade to keep stabbing him, but (Name) ran over as fast as she could and pushed Nifty off of him.

“No, no no no.” (Name) gently turned Adam onto his back. He opened his eyes, and when he saw her, he smiled. “(Name),” he croaked. His eyes fluttered shut but the soft smile never left his face. “Adam, no, stay with me, please,” (Name) begged. She looked up at Charlie. “Please, help me!”

Adam was the last person Charlie wanted to save, but her belief in mercy and hatred of seeing (Name) so upset won over, and she knelt down beside Adam, putting pressure on his wound. “Dad, there has to be something you can do.”

Lucifer sighed. He walked over and held a hand over the stab wound, concentrating. It began to heal, just enough to stem the bleeding before Lucifer stopped. “There. He won’t bleed out, but he’s lost a lot of blood.”

Adam had fallen unconscious.

Lucifer refocused his efforts on repairing the hotel. When it was back together, Charlie helped (Name) drag Adam inside. They got to (Name)’s room and deposited Adam on her bed. Adam didn’t stir. Charlie left (Name) to have her privacy with him.

When Charlie left, (Name) unzipped and pulled off Adam’s robe, lifting up his shirt underneath to reveal the stab wound. With a wet washcloth she began to clean the wound and blood off his body. When she was done, she grabbed gauze (Charlie left her with a first-aid kit) and wrapped Adam’s torso.

Content, she finally situated him into the bed comfortably, pulling the covers up to his chest. As she knelt next to the bed, stroking Adam’s hair back gently, Adam’s eyes fluttered open. He looked panicked until (Name)’s face came into view.

“(Name).” “Adam.”

(Name) forgot all her previous anger towards Adam and hugged him in relief. “You’re okay,” she cried. Adam looked taken aback before smiling and wrapping his arms around her. “Thanks to you.” “Thanks to Lucifer, really–” “Never say his name in front of me again.”

(Name) blinked. “Right, of course. But he did kind of save your life.” “Only because of you,” Adam retorted. (Name) was silent. He had a point.

The silence consumed them as they stared at one another, waiting for the other to speak. “You abandoned me,” they said at the same time. “What?” “What the fuck do you mean–”

(Name) took a deep breath. “You abandoned me in Heaven, when Sera tore off my fucking wings and threw me down here. You abandoned me as a Fallen. How did I abandon you?”

“You abandoned me by questioning the extermination, and speaking blasphemy. You knew what happened to angels who speak blasphemy. And you still did it. There was nothing I could fucking do. Sera is like, a million times stronger than me. And for the record, I searched for you. Every extermination. I looked for you. You abandoned me, to be alone, again.”

(Name) was silent. She hadn’t realized that was how he felt about the situation.

“I love you, and I fuckin’ miss you. Alright?” Adam confessed. (Name)’s eyes began to well with tears. “I love you and miss you too.” She leaned over him and pressed her lips to his. Adam kissed back with fervor, reaching up to cup her face in one large hand. They fit together like missing puzzle pieces.

Two separated soulmates finally reunited.

[toxycodone]

ship. trans (ftm) kabru x reader

cw. nsfw + oviposition + monster/beastkin!reader

an. very very self indulgent for me and my followers. basically, kabru’s pretty and you gotta fill him with eggs. it’s only right.

It’s not often Kabru finds himself in situations like this. Or ever. Yet. Here he is, all due to his inability to say no.

And well, he can’t just blame it on that. The situation at hand is a byproduct of his own curiosity as well. Deep in the back of his mind, this is something Kabru’s been secretly curious about as well.

Breeding season is never easy. And it’s especially more difficult when you have such a handsome lover like Kabru around.

Your body’s been on overdrive. You could tell by your newfound appetite along with the growing desire building for Kabru. You need him. More than what he’s already given you, though. That’s not enough.

Just looking at him would have your mind on fire. His pretty, blues eyes…lithe body…even the sheen on his plump lips would be enough to make you shake off thoughts of pinning him to the table and fucking his brains out.

It got worse when the two of you would retire to his quarters at night. Sex didn’t even need to be on the table. When Kabru would take off his shirt, exposing his smooth tummy…

You’d wonder what it’d look like filled with your eggs. Kabru’s skinny enough that you’re sure you’d be able to see the distension in his abdomen after you pumped him full. He’d be such a good carrier, maybe a little broody—you shake your head. It’s enough Kabru’s conquered his fear of monster kind and has decided to enter a romantic relationship with you. You couldn’t ask him for this. Not now.

Kabru notices your discomfort. It’s written on your face the way you seem to be holding back around him. Disengaging with him sexually. He asks about it. And after a little discussion…he seems curious—maybe morbidly so. But it’s his responsibility as your boyfriend? Mate? Whatever? To help you, right? And it’s not like this can go anywhere unless you choose to fertilize them, so…

The length of your ovipositor rests against Kabru’s thigh. His chest rises and falls with a quick rhythm as you start to cover it with his slick.

“Is it going to hurt…?” He asks. There’s apprehension in his tone, but in the back of your mind you know he isn’t going to back out. His hard on makes that clear.

“Just a little.” You answer honestly. “There’s secretions that’ll…open you up. Keep you comfortable. But it’ll take a moment for that to kick in.”

Your body isn’t meant to breed with a humans. But you know it’ll affect Kabru’s similarly to a mate of your kind. It’ll feel odd at first, but pleasurable. You have a feeling he’ll come to enjoy it more than anticipated.

You line yourself up with Kabru’s entrance, then gently push in. This in itself isn’t a new experience. Kabru’s walls eagerly open for your length as they usually do. His head falls back onto the pillow, eyes fluttering as he does so. You place a kiss to his neck, continuing to pump in and out of the man before you. Kabru’s breathing picks up as his light moans fill the air.

You relish in his warmth around your length. It feels good, no, great. The familiar way his walls flutter around you and clench when you hit a certain spots makes you shudder…but something more primal than achieving orgasm drives you. After ensuring Kabru’s had enough time to stretch out, you let your length bottom out inside Kabru fully. You use one hand to gently stroke his cock, making Kabru’s thighs twitch as more wetness starts to leak from his slit.

He cracks open an eye. He’s so gorgeous, you have to resist the butterflies that flutter in your stomach.

“You’re stopping?”

You huff, lifting Kabru’s hips to better angle to fuck him deeper. Your length presses against his cervix—knocking the entrance to his womb. Kabru hisses, and you shush him with a kiss. As you said, the secretions from earlier have his body loosening up. An egg passes down your ovipositor, prying Kabru open for you.

He cries out. It’s in discomfort at first, but it quickly turns into pleasure. You can tell by the way his eyes roll back that your own biology is ensuring the upmost pleasure for your mate. His body shakes with orgasm after orgasm as you continue to fill him. Each one you talk him through it, cooing words of encouragement and praise of how well he’s taking you. How perfect he is for letting you impregnate him.

Kabru takes the eggs surprisingly well. Each one that fills his warm hole has him gasping and groaning in pleasure. It’s the same for you too. Not only is it pleasurable to have him clenching you and milking your length, but there’s a biological need taken care of by filling your mate with your eggs. You’ve staked your claim on his womb.

“M’ full…” Kabru mutters. His words are slurred—likely a mix from the pleasure and effects of the chemicals from your body.

You take a look at his abdomen. It’s slightly distended. Kabru’s human anatomy likely can’t make room for any more eggs, at least not in his womb.

“Can’t take anymore?” You tease, kissing his temple now. “I think you can stomach just a few more.”

He growls. You comment about him being broody already, which doesn’t earn you any favors.

Kabru tsks, his brows furrowing in annoyance.

“Just pull out. I gotta…”

He seems…very embarrassed. Which is odd, considering the situation at hand has progressed past the need for that. You shrug and oblige.

Kabru parts his thighs. His hole twitches annd ass flexes as he tries to push something out. His puffy lips part to let out one egg, and then another. You’d feel bad if it weren’t for the lewd moans he’s making—along with the pride you feel for wearing out his human body.

“I guess I did fill you up, hm?” You kiss his skin as Kabru’s face falls in relief.

“I’m just glad it’s over…” Kabru says. Drowsiness lies thick in his tone. “I’m exhausted…”

“Who said it was over?”

[tetsuskei]

notes: repost from my old blog, based on an old post and brief convo w rei @/sir-kuroo. divider by the great remi @/cafekitsune <3

warnings: office au, self indulgent, reader is a few years younger than kuroo

“do you come here often?”

kuroo tetsurou, a colleague, slides up next to you in the breakroom. his personality is suave and carries an air of sharpness, yet warmth and comfort. he’s always gone out of his way to make those around him feel welcome, and you’re no short of that. if you could think of a household name for your company, it would be his. many speak of him but rarely do many actually see him.

you wonder what’s made him grace yourself with his presence—coincidence, or fate?

he grins boyishly, rocking his feet as he looks at you with the most shining (and pretty) hazel eyes.

you blink slowly, processing his words.

“um…i work here. we’re coworkers.” you answer slowly, nodding to your work badge before resuming your activity of making your daily coffee. your heart starts to race at being watched and you try not to spill anything.

you don’t blame kuroo for not knowing exactly who you are. you work in the art department while he does promotion. you’re like two ships sailing past each other in the night. you’ve crossed paths a few times during brainstorming sessions and kickoffs for projects, but you never fully interacted before. at least not directly. only short pleasantries have ever been shared between each other.

the man’s face pales, smile faltering as you unintentionally dismiss his—quite sad—attempt at getting with you. he quickly regains confidence, though.

you hear him laugh softly before he shifts his weight to his opposite foot. “well just as i thought. i guess that means we work together, huh?”

kuroo watches your nose crinkle cutely as you frown and then laugh nervously, “kuroo-san, i don’t mean to say this with any disrespect, but if you’re still confused, i can contact HR for you.” maybe because you’re new he doesn’t know you’re a full time employee. did he think you were a temp? a freelancer?

and as crushed as kuroo currently is, his heart flutters at the way you say his name. he doesn’t know how, but your obliviousness is endearing and wholesome. he only wishes to grab you by the shoulders and shake you, to make you see what he’s trying to say.

the reality is, he’s seen you around many times. only just now did he work up his own courage to start a full fledged conversation with you. you’re very cute. shy, he can tell. but that only makes him more intrigued and persistent in getting to know you. you remind him a lot of kenma, actually.

said best friend implied kuroo was being shy himself, but he’ll deny it to the grave. he’s too stubborn to take his advice on how to approach you.

and the result? an embarrassingly horrible joke he came up with due to word vomit. he didn’t expect to run into you, but by the grace of god, you’d been right where you are, and he did not want to miss this opportunity.

he rubs the back of his head. “ahh no. i don’t need that, but thanks. i appreciate it.” he says, ending his reply with your name.

your eyes widen in surprise. “you…know who i am?” you blink, tilting your head.

kuroo thinks he’s acquiring cute aggression.

he nods, “of course i do. i know the names of practically everyone here.”

“oh.” you say, deflating a little, hope dissolving from your heart. your fingers tap your mug in thought. “right. it was just that…it seemed like you didn’t know i worked here, so i was confused.”

he clears his throat, noticing your dejection, “no! i definitely do! sorry, i worded myself wrong earlier. i-it’s just that—never mind.” he runs a hand over his face, and you’re shocked to see how nervous he suddenly appears. he always seems so confident and sure of himself, you wonder what could be going on now.

“no worries or hard feelings.” you laugh, and his shoulder sag with relief. did you know your voice could be so calming?

the tall man exhales, releasing the rest of his nerves. “allow me to start over. hi, i’m kuroo tetsurou, i work in the promotion department.” he shakes your hand, “i’ve seen your work. it’s really impressive.”

you palm is clammy as you return the handshake and introduction, but the smell of his cologne makes you feel more at ease.

“it’s nice to formally meet you, kuroo-san. you work for the jva is nothing short of amazing.” you reply.

“oh,” he quickly becomes bashful, a humble smile on his face, “it was nothing, really.”

he changes the topic, “but enough about me. back to you. i’ve been meaning to tell you all of that for awhile, but never worked up the courage to. i really should have sooner, i appreciate all that you’ve done to make the jva as successful as it is.” he continues, smiling. he hopes and begs that you don’t see his cheeks turning red.

your expressions lifts again, and kuroo can’t help but notice the small dimple in your left cheek. “thank you! that’s very kind of you, kuroo-san! you didn’t have to thank me at all, i’m just doing my job.”

“that’s true, but you’re very talented. needed to at least acknowledge that.” he nods.

“i guess so! the last project did require a lot of late nights and hard work…” unbeknownst to yourself, you start to ramble about your process.

his perceptive nature looks over your features. he notes the way you hold yourself, fingers fiddling with the sleeves of your sweater–a pink one he’s always been able to identify you by. your eyes seem to travel when they hold contact with someone for too long. you purse your lips when you’re lost in thought. but when you’re comfortable, you use your hands to gesture, expressions surprisingly animated, which make you seem more animated than your usual reserved state.

noticing the way he stares at you, you quickly stop, feeling embarrassed.

“oh! i’m so sorry, i’ve been talking your ear off. you probably didn’t want to know all of that…i bet you’re busy anyways.” you say, bowing out of apology.

kuroo only shakes his head, “ah it’s not a problem at all! you’re truly mistaken! it’s nice listening to how you work. i don’t have a creative bone in my body, so it helps me to understand better. plus, you have a very nice voice.”

wide eyes blink up at him and another smile pops up on your face. you giggle, “thank you! you’re very kind!”

“no problem,” he steps back slightly, clearing his throat, “i know this is the first time we are really talking but…would you…like to get lunch sometime? to get to know each other better?”

you think about work and your connections. as a new employee this would be good for you, right? to build more healthy work relationships. the more people you can know, the better. especially across different departments.

a smile appears on your face and you nod. “why not? should we invite anyone else to join? i think—“

he laughs, shaking his head, “no sweetheart, just you and i.”

you’re stunned. “o-oh…”

“you can say no, i won’t be offended.” he assures.

panic resides in you and you frantically wave your hands. “it’s not that! i’d be more than happy to! i mean, i’ve been looking to get to know you better anyways!”

a hand flies to your mouth and your eyes widen once you realize what you just said.

“w-what i meant was…it’s better to get to know someone 1 on 1 anyways! yanno?” you correct, heart pounding out of your chest. you’re screwed. he’s going think you’re weird.

kuroo smirks, a small hum of appreciation escaping him as he nods, “right, of course. well, i’m glad to hear that. why don’t we exchange numbers ahead of time so we can talk details later?”

after typing each others numbers in, he notices you just entered your first name into his phone.

he softly says it out loud , and a weird, twisting feeling forms in your gut. a small part of you wishes he’d say it again.

“um…you can call me that if you want, but don’t feel pressured to.” you tell him. “i’m just not too big on formality.”

he shakes his head. “not a problem at all. it’s a very lovely name.”

“thanks, kuroo-san.” you beam.

“call me tetsurou. it’s only fair, right?” he winks, patting your shoulder. it shocks you how big his hand is, but you quickly peel your eyes away from it.

he steps back, pocketing his phone before looking at his watch. “well, i should be off now. but we’ll catch up later? i’d love to pick your brain about an upcoming idea.”

“s-sure!” you call, waving after him. “see you, tetsurou!”

he waves back, saying over his shoulder, “do me a favor, yeah?”

“what’s that?”

“remember it’s okay to be proud of your work. you worked hard, so own it.” he says, sending you a warm smile.

“right, i will!” you nod. your heart is full from his advice, and you cling onto his sentiment.

“‘tetsurou’, huh?” your coworker, kazuma, walks up besides you as soon as the rooster head is out of sight. “when did you start getting buddy buddy with the head to the promotion department?”

you raise a brow. “what do you mean? that’s the first time i’ve actually had a full conversation with him. i don’t know why i was so scared to! he’s a very nice guy!” you explain.

he laughs, nodding. “right, ‘nice guy’…”

you blink. “what? did he do something to someone?” you lean in, whispering, “did he like…beat someone up?”

kazuma rolls his eyes, sighing as he fixes his own coffee, “nothing of that sort. you’ll figure it out.”

before you can question him, he turns on his heel and leaves. you start after him, but he’s too fast for you so you give up.

“weird…” you mumble. you shrug before deciding as unfortunate as it is, you should get back to work.

throughout the entire duration of your walk back to your desk, you realize two things.

1, you left your coffee in the break room, and 2–

you notice that under the notes section of kuroo’s contact, he’s put, ‘prospective work husband’.

oh. shit.

that’s what it was.

kuroo was flirting with you the entire time.

reblogs and interactive appreciated!

[silentgravesdontexist]

Self-indulgency at its finest. Ik that I have drafts side-eyeing me. But this is unedited and on the fly. The basic rundown is that the reader feels overwhelmed/having panic attack/breakdown or however you want to interpret it as.

Portgas D. Ace x GN!Reader

CW: Vivid details of panic attack/sensory overload. Ace accidentally comforts you (ofc, he does, his whole presence is comforting)

Every little thing feels like its grating on your nerves. The splashing of waves against the ship, crewmates chattering loudly on the deck, creaks of the deck with each step, and even the fabric bristling against your own skin. It felt too much. You'd tense up with every sound and sensation you feel.

It felt cold. Freezing cold. The winds of the upcoming winter island doesn't help. Your jaw clenches while your brain goes blank and overdrive all at once. Grounding exercises feel like they aren't working. Going somewhere quiet feels too much of a challenge at the moment. A hand raised to squeeze your arm a bit, feeling your nails graze against your skin.

"What's got you feelin' so tense?" A familiar voice echoes behind you. Muscular arms suddenly engulfing you in a hug and pulling you against his chest. "The cold gettin' to 'ya?" He asks, tilting his head slightly to look at you. But your eyes are slightly wide from shock.

Warm. That's all your brain processes at the moment. Without a single word, you just lean back against his frame. All the noise of the area and even your own mind feels drowned out by his presence. Your hands over his arms as if to get him to stay there a while longer.

"This feels nice." You mumble before practically melting against him. Feeling a lot more calm than earlier. Though your nerves still feel as if they were freshly shot— it felt a lot better being in his arms.

Ace wasn't sure how to take that. But he knew that you looked a lot more relaxed than earlier. And if you didn't want to share anything, he'd respect it. If all you needed was a hug, then he'd gladly respect it and provide you all the hugs you needed.

"It does, don't it?" He chimes, placing a hand on your hand and ruffling it gently. Ace pulls you closer to him in turn. Even letting flickers of flames light up his skin (making sure none of them burn or singe you).

Since then, you just looked for him whenever you felt overwhelmed again. Hugging him and letting yourself calm down from his presence. When it all feels too much and he can sense your trembling a bit, he'll place his hat on you to cover your face. Ace won't comment on the damp feeling on his skin. He'd just hold you and let you relax in his arms.

He trusted you. If you wanted to open up and tell him something, he's listen. If not, then he'll just hold you like this. As long as it meant it would help you even for a moment, then he'd do it. Plus, why wouldn't he enjoy being relied on by the pretty crewmate he's had a crush on for a while now?

~~~~

If you enjoyed this, here's my masterlist for my other works!