Saturn_silk

Your curious eyes pointed at the “CLASSIFIED'' file, knowing full well that his answer would be a no. His office was organized, and done by you. Vivid light spilled into the large room, the scent of pine cones and whiskey faint. The golden man peered up at you with a hum but quickly tsked. 

“You don’t want to do that to one baby! That one’s hard,” he tucked the file away, sending you a grin, “Say, how about this one?” You picked the new item, flipping the pages without interest as you shook your head, “No, this is something a petty officer can do.” 

Leaning forward, you pouted, tracing your finger over his wooden desk, “Why can’t I do the big ones? You know that I’m fully capable of doing that, so you don’t have to treat me like a fragile thing, y’know?” You watched Borsalino scratch his chin, amusedly.

“I believe I hold a sort of responsibility, you know?” he said, lifting your hand to press a sweet kiss on your knuckles, “I can’t bear seeing you away and without my protection.” You scoffed as if you were a baby! A light giggle erupted from you as you skipped away, “Sure love, I sure do need your protection!”

That was the most innocent the approach has gotten. You’ve attempted to attend high-rank missions, but the man’s advantage of being an admiral meant that he had the final decision. It was always a no, and always with the same reason.

“I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“You’re safe by me.”

“You only need me.”

After two weeks, you were fully pissed. Exactly what could you do with these limits? Nothing could be done, and you practically sat in his office like a doll without purpose. The clock ticked as you watched Borsalino chat with Kuzan casually. 

Your lover's hand rested on your thigh, his fingers squeezing it lightly. He sent you a small grin, but you returned his gesture with a shove of your hand. You couldn’t bear this anymore– you were a marine for god’s sake! You were meant to battle, to fight against pirates for the better of everyone. You excused yourself,

“I need to go do something really quick if you don’t mind love?” 

You added the sweet taste, smiling at him. You didn’t see it, but there was a glint of disappointment in his stare. What was more important than leaving him? He nodded, watching you by the corner of his eye. Your small figure strutted out of the office, a loud thunk accompanied by your exit.

“Are you alright?” 

Borsalino hummed as he glanced back at his icy guest, “Oh? Aha, of course! Now where were we…?” The chat continued, but the man couldn’t help but pay attention to that irking feeling. Just what were you going to do?

It was quiet in the halls, and officers would occasionally pass by in a hurry, carrying papers and such. Door after door, painting after painting, it felt like you were walking to your doom. It was a heavy decision you were about to make, but would you rather be restricted or freed? The most rational idea popped into your head, and it was best to leave what was holding you back.

You arrived at the front of Sengoku’s door, the tall white frame inviting you in. You stood outside of the door, hands shaking as you couldn’t find yourself knocking. There was nothing to be afraid of, so why were you shivering? It felt like something cold was hitting you, but nothing but yourself was in the hallway. 

The prestige of the marine corp shined, but the utter mysteriousness of it seemed to ask you things. You laughed to yourself, maybe it was just the thought of meeting Sengoku getting to you? You fixed your apparel, making sure your pants were smoothed out and your collared vest was not too skimpy. 

A cough behind you made you jump. Your head snapped to see said man with his stack of sheets and his seagull resting on his cap. 

“Vice-Admiral Y/N? What brings you here?”

“A-ah um…” you fidgeted with the hem of your collar before whispering, “Can we talk in your office Fleet Admiral, please?” 

He abided easily, opening the door to welcome you in. The both of you got comfortable as you sat on the chair before his desk, the little transponder snail eyeing you. The man's office was a mess; the breeze from the open doors swooshed calmly in and flimsy items fluttered quietly. It was serene here, rather than the tense aura of Borsalino’s room.

Sengoku pushed aside his stacks and fixed his spectacles to look at your worried state. He coughed, “So, how’s it going? Is everything alright with the Admiral?” You gritted your teeth as you impatiently bounced your leg.

“No, I was going to talk to you about that.”

He let out an oh, leaning forward as he grew a stern expression, “He isn’t being bad now, is he? You know I’m always–”

“No, no, it's not that kind of thing now.” you interrupted, trying to gesticulate as you sighed, “I want to request a transfer.”

The room grew quiet as the man stroked his beard, his eyebrow lifting slightly, “I would require a reason, but in this case, I’ll just pass it.” Sengoku already knew from your body language and the way you instantly loosened up when he greeted you. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, “Thank you, just how soon would my transfer be?”

The Fleet Admiral looked through his mess of papers, taking his time as he cursed himself, “Best chance is in a week at another island a few towns forward.” Well, it should be worth the wait, no? 

“Though I would like you to do one thing first as I start the transfer.”

You purse your lips as you listen attentively, willing to do anything Sengoku asks. It was your freedom you were talking about, after all. 

“Break up with him, it's clear the relationship isn’t healthy if you’re trying to run away from him.”

The words rang through you like a terrible sickness. The mere thought of you doing so frightened you to an extent you didn’t know why. Was it because you knew Borsalino for a long time? Was it because he was an Admiral? Was it because...you were scared of how he might react?

“A-alright, I’ll do that,” you murmured, excusing yourself as Sengoku wished you the best of luck– something you would need very much. 

You walked back out again, the sound of his coughing and voice audible behind the door. You made your way back to the office, a solemn look on your face as you played out the scene in your head. You had to do this carefully and without flaw. 

Borsalino’s office was open and his laughter was heard, making you straighten up and walk right in. Kuzan was just about to leave, and the tall man greeted you with a wave before making his way out.

“Perhaps we’ll talk another time, I have several tasks to attend to.” he said, strolling out with his hands in his pockets– though you knew better than his “tasks” was just a nap outside. Your lover stood, embracing you and planting a kiss on your temple.

“My, what was so urgent?” he purred, “You know I can give you everything you want.” Your nose buried in his blazer, the scent of whisky lingering in his breath. You felt his hand trail down your spine, reaching to grope your ass.

Quickly, you moved back, earning a surprised look from him. Of course, he would be concerned, maybe appalled too– especially the way your eyes lingered a sense of distaste. The golden man was quiet for a second before trying to make another move, only to see you take a step back.

“Borsa, I think we need to um…take a break?” you said, fixing your posture as you corrected yourself, “Yes, a break from this. I don’t think we’re vibing, and it’s just– I don’t think I need to explain.”

“If anything’s the problem–”

“No, I just don’t think I feel comfortable.” you interrupted, your glare now holding a frown, “Let’s just call it quits.” You didn’t let him speak, instead leaving the office with a cough, “See you later, Admiral Borsalino.”

You knew that he had the potential to drag you back, to at least try to talk and work things out. But he stood his stance and watched you exit, your reason still unclear to him– and it would be that way for the rest of the week. 

Every day after, he would walk beside you with jovial laughter, trying to win your heart back. He’d bring your favorite orange roses, selections of chocolate, and the occasional ticket for date nights. However, each attempt would always make you walk a little bit faster or ignore him completely.

He’s upset. You weren’t like this before– hell you would be the one to ask to suck him off under the desk if you were needy. But this? Borsalino is a man with enough power to control underling officers and political decisions. He had everything you could ever need, was he not enough with that? Even then, what did he do wrong?

You never spoke to him, only giving him nods or headshakes. The best interaction you’ve given him– to his pleasure– was a smack on his face. For four days he’s lived like this– deprived of your loving touch and words. He longed to hear you speak to him again and call him by the beloved name you’ve given him.

To hear you moan his name, to feel you clamp down on his length, and to see you break apart with just a few thrusts. He missed the way you worked your magic with your lips, and your hands too. Your curves flashed images to his eyes, his hands easily caressing and holding them to fuck you harder.

He wanted that back, and he would have it back.

Rumors were lingering around– ones he didn’t like to hear. They were about you and your plans. He didn’t like them at all. 

You finished up your last work of the day, exhausted as is with your workload. It was only three more days till your exchange. Surely you could last long enough and make it to the end? You made your way out of the building and into the small village that accompanied the island you were on.

The sky was a hazy gold, the sun setting and marking the end of the day. You made it to your little mansion; it was two stories with a homey feel. You unlocked your door and entered, making sure to lock it back– just in case of course.

After that, you went on with your nightly routine. Undressing, taking a shower, skincare, and then dinner. The time read a bit past 8, but you didn’t feel that exhausted yet. And so, you played a short film on the huge snail– eyes busy watching the clips flash.

You wouldn’t notice a tall man watching from your windows, seeing your nightwear reveal little parts of your body. Shorts barely stopping at the cup of your ass, shirt too tight for your breasts– especially wrapped with his favorite color. Your hair was neatly done in a clip, lips munching on some late food, and face smiling at the scene.

He knocked on the door.

“Y/N? I know you’re in there.”

You felt the little hairs on your neck rise, eyes widening as you turned to the door. He…couldn’t be here, right? You turned off the snail, making your way hesitant to the door. You pressed your ear on it, only to jerk back at the next knock.

“What do you want?!” you shouted, “I don’t fuck around with people at night– and especially you!”

“Y/N! It’s me, your love,” he purred, moving his hand down the door’s knob, “Let me in please, let’s just talk this all out…”

“No.” you said, pulling on the door restraints to lock it tight, “No.” He didn’t like that.

“Let me in! Trust me, sweetheart, it’ll be easier if you do. Don’t run from me. You won’t like what happens when I catch you.”

And you didn’t like that either. You quickly ran up the stairs of your home, hearing your door get forced open. A swell of panic ran through you– fuck, fuck, fuck! You skidded across your hall, reaching for what was the knob to your room. However, a flash of light stopped you.

“My, my love, I daresay I did give you a chance,” Borsalino chuckled, his hand near crushing your neck and the other digging on your hips. You couldn’t move, and only a choked gasp escaped you. He knew the layout of your home, more so that he gladly led the both of you inside your habitat.

“Should I remind you of how mean I can be, baby? Or would you rather be a good girl and come back to me?” he hummed, tossing you on your bed. Your sheets welcomed you, but not in a nice way. Your ex had begun to undress, leaving him in his striped slacks as he hovered over you.

His eyes held a toxic aura, “Well?” You staggered back, crawling to your headboard as you watched with fear. This couldn’t be happening– not now and not with him! The man tsked, and in another flash was back face to face with you, his thumb pulling at your bottom lip.

“I would be lying if I said you didn’t look sexy scared…”

You spat, trying to get him off you by clawing at his face, “G-get the fuck off me–” Your attempt was in vain, and you found yourself flipped upon your stomach, your hands pulled back together and knotted. He made sure his tie was on tight, binding you. 

“I suppose that means I have to refresh your memory, hm? I can’t have you leaving me after all…” he whispered to your ear, rutting his hip against your ass so you could feel his bulge. You hated that through your thin shorts your pussy begged to be pleased– your body missed him.

“Y-you can’t do this–”

A smack on your ass made you squeak, helping the man to shove your face down your sheets. He still grinded himself behind you– a gesture you both knew you missed. You wanted to scream for help, but deep down you desired for him to ruin you in every way possible.

“I can because you still love me no matter how you try to put it.” he purred, his other hand sneaking down your curve and to your wet pussy, “Look at yourself, growing so aroused by this~!” His fingers trace your cunt, rubbing small circles through the soaking fabric. You couldn’t let him hear your moan, so you bit your pillow, hoping it would shut out any sounds. 

However, what came next couldn’t help you. His digit pushed the hem of your shorts and panty, letting him tease your entrance with his thick finger. You could hear him coo at your ear before pushing three digits inside forcibly.

“I love you, sweetheart, so I’m sure you’ll forgive me for what happens next.” He sped up his pace, fingerfucking your tight hole to prepare you for his cock that waited to be buried inside you. You mewled, body trembling as your ass moved on its own to raise higher. 

Your lover grew pleased, your sounds only motivating him to rail you, to make you his once and for all. The night became long to your poor state, cumdumped and dumbfucked on your bed. You felt sticky and weak, eyes unable to process the last few hours.

You never got to transfer after that.