#lamb.writes

If one grimaces at the idea of Master Fu Xuan run ragged it pales in comparison to the reality you live in. You are a simple person with a simple role - just a runner of correspondence for Master Fu Xuan to a list of important individuals. Your role has made you jump from ship to ship, many times you have stood in the presence of the speedster General Fei Xiao and you remember how you scrubbed at your clothes to get rid of the smell of alpha musk. Your nose wrinkles as you recall more and more times the scents of your peers and superiors made you curl in disgust; how many times you’ve scrubbed your hands raw when keeping your uniform clean. It had always bothered you, even back when you were a child how the scents of others imprinted onto everything.

No one had a scrap of discretion because you could take a whiff and find what another was thinking - you utterly detested it. When you came of age and you had access to suppressants you were quick to ask for the strongest ones. Something that blocks out your scent completely. Something that gives you the privacy you so want in this world where everyone wears their heart on their scent glands. You didn’t care for anything else - not with how since you presented boys would make fun of you until your scent soured and girls would dig at you with questions for being the only omega in the class until your scent bristled. You hated that, the constant invasion of others just because of what your secondary sex was.

Yes, you utterly loathed it enough so that you take a hundred something milligrams of omega suppressants on the dot twice a month and don’t read any of the warnings on the neat little orange bottle you depend on.

Unexpected heat cycles. High Fevers. High risk of cardiac arrest.

As you make your way to the gates leading to the seat of General Jing Yuan, you bring a hand up to loosen your collar - suddenly finding it to be hotter than usual. The tablet in your hand creaks under your grip as you feel some heat in your chest at the thought of the general. It’s always been like this you think, your chest warming when you go to your desk and see you will be delivering paperwork directly to Jing Yuan even for two centuries. You make your way to the final doors and are met with the same giant, holographic chess board. In the soft white light of the room, his own hair glimmers like silver and there - in a split second you can see the tiredness on his face before he hears of your entering and like the lightning he wields it’s gone in a flash.

The same, infallible look of control settled on his handsome face as he turned to look at you. Golden gaze softening in some sort of warmth when he greets you, more affectionate then people would assume - in a life like the general’s it makes sense why people would wonder. You are no stranger to the achievements of the High Cloud Quintet, the fabled heroes are known far and wide in the Luofu but what is not known is the hole it left in Jing Yuan’s heart, none but you. It was a while ago, maybe after the first hundred years of being his messenger between himself and Master Fu Xuan that you caught a scent that did not usually appear in the notes of osmanthus. It was chance, maybe fate that you bore witness to the acid scent of grief but you have made it a bit of your goal to treat the General with more warmth that is expected of you as a mere correspondent.

It began with small things - questions of his day, of the chess game in the room. You even managed to get to play a game with him even at the cost of being reprimanded for taking so long to return or the overwhelming quick and humiliating loss you had at the hands of the erudite general. It had begun a bit of a tradition for the two of you, often sneaking in a quick game when you can and even when you couldn’t. He says your name, voice deep and soft: you bring your eyes to him and smile as you always do, not exactly grinning but one that reaches a little further than the polite ones you share over the water cooler in the office.

“It’s been too long my dear friend. I’ve been looking forward to our next match.” Hos smile turns feline as you snort and shake your head, amusement painting your face.

“General please, you saw me naught but two days ago. And you can forget the match - I’ve grown tired of the constant humiliation of you besting me.”

Jing Yuan laughs, deep from his chest - a deep baritone that warms your stomach, eyes crinkling affectionately. A droplet of sweat drips down your neck as you swallow, you can feel one of your black curls cling to your neck from the heat that grows more sweltering every minute.

“Now, now. You’ve improved in the short time we’ve played together.” The eye visible to you is wide and sparkling with something you can’t decipher.

“You’re lasting longer each time. It makes the game much more enjoyable.” He purrs the words, eyes lidded and if you weren’t so focused on the boiling heat that grows more and for fiercely in your blood you would pick up on the twitching of his nose and lips as if he wants to taste the air itself. Golden eyes with the keen glint of a lion in the grass picks up on the flush to your cheeks and the shimmer of sweat on the curves of your collarbones.

“Is that so?” You ask, not really paying attention to the man before you - hands going to grasp your hair and tie it high too cool off. A scent feels Jing Yuan’s nose and if he had a tail it would swish behind him in keen interest. Citrus and honey with ginger - sweet and wonderfully spiced fills the room.

Something you have never smelled of. Your scent has always been mild disinfectant. Never offensive to the palate but it was present, odd. Clean and stark like a doctor’s office. It was clear that you were on some sort of suppressant due to your lack of natural scent.

“Yes, quite, so please - join me for a game. You have the time, no?” He asks and you blink a few times before giving your answer. A brief, absent nod of your head and when Jing Yuan goes to place one large, warm hand rough from wielding the glaive on the silver of skin your uniform exposes on your shoulder ; you break out into shivers despite the heat swimming in your head. Maybe sitting on the floor will cool you off? And maybe the game will take your mind off how hot the room is. The hand on your shoulder remains with his thumb carefully rubbing at the skin - a gesture meant to convey the level of casual friendship between the two of you but instead it makes you feel like you were shocked.

Your nerves fizz and frazzle, and the heat that’s been plaguing you suddenly turns into mind-numbing coldness. The ends of your vision swims, and you hear a pitched ringing along with a muffled voice. Your hands feel empty, like there is no flesh or bone or blood filling them. The sensation spreads down to your legs and your shoulder and your neck. Like a puppet without strings, when you go to take the first step to play the game with Jing Yuan - your general, your friend had offered, you collapsed.

The world had turned black.

…

When you awake, the sky is orange - it’s around sunset and your vision though clearly is still foggy at the edges. You are not in your home, you muddled your way to that conclusion from how spacious the room you are in is, with regal decorations that you most certainly do not own. Your thoughts are slow and breathing is an intensive labor, you need to think to take in each gulp of air in your dry throat. Turning your head is a slow manner and you are greeted with an arrangement of potted plants in front of a training courtyard.

Your vision is blurred at its edges and your hearing is clogged - like your ears needing to be popped after hopping off a sky-craft joy ride. There are voices, from the room next door, muffled and unclear but you can pick up the stress in their tones. Just as you try to focus, scrunching your brows and shaking your head as if to clear the brain fog you feel it.

A burning sharp pain followed by a gaping ache just below your stomach. You whine so very high and so very loud as the ache is all you can think about now that you have been pulled from the embrace of fitful sleep. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts - a needy voice in your head rings. Your back arches as another drop of sweat drips down the curve of your spine. The parts of your brain that haven’t been melted out of your ears buzz in confusion. What type of sickness have you gotten that’s making you act like this? Another wave of pain fills you as you squirm, turning to press your head into the cool pillow. You groan into the pillowcase and try to focus on anything other than the pain you feel resounding your weary body. Seeking any sort of distraction to unknowingly take a whiff of the pillowcase your face is pressed into and pick up on one certain scent.

The only one you’ve ever enjoyed since you presented.

Osmanthus.

You whine into the pillow and haplessly press your thighs together as you think about the matching golden eyes of the man who smells just like those golden leaves. Silver white hair and a mole that catches your attention like the stars in the false sky of the Xianzhou ship night cycle. A pristinely, handsome alpha with broad shoulders and a sculpted body that smells earthy and sweet. The words in your mind fizzle out and your eyes flutter close with thought of him. Jing Yuan, a voice in your head whines, its unfamiliar tone a bell in your mind. It repeats again and again and it isn’t until you feel a large hand, one calloused and so incredibly warm that it makes your skin break into goosebumps wraps around the wrist of the hand that’s been gripping the fabric under you so desperately.

Your name is spoken into the now darker room, uttered from plush lips that belong to the man you were just thinking about.

Pinned under golden irises you freeze, gazing up at him with your lips parted as your chest heaves. The state you are in, it enhances everything you felt when you first saw him today. Your general, your friend, your Jing Yuan is here - right before you. Pleased chirps escape your mouth as something inside you purrs and the ache between your legs softens now that you aren’t alone being teased with the faint scent of an alpha. In your elation you don’t notice the flush to his ears and face, how Jing Yuan’s eyes go between your face and your chest. His thumb rubs at the skin of your wrist and his tongue flashes briefly to wet his lips before he speaks.

Your name leaves his lips again before he asks you - “Do you know where you are?”

As you shake your head side to side a strand of hair sticks to your lips. With the opposite hand Jing Yuan carefully removes it from your lips and something in his chest tightens at the feeling of your hair around his calloused finger.

“You are in my home. You had collapsed when you had visited me. I contacted Divine Master Fu Xuan and had a doctor check you over as you rested.” The deep scent of osmanthus sours to you and you whine in displeasure. To soothe you, Jing Yuan lifts his hand rest against your cheek and something in his stomach churns the way you curve your face into the hold of his palm. He’s never seen you like this - rose flushed and wanting and so utterly dependent. In the time he has known you, all you have ever striven for, to be seen as aloof and unattached. Never swayed by anything and to follow your tasks but he’s seen small cracks of your true self in the years he’s known you - the way your eyes brighten when you deliver him correspondence or how you soften your tone to speak to him for who he is not the role he inherited from his successor. The scent of sweetened citrus is coying at his nose as he takes in the flush that burns down to your exposed chest - you were stripped out of your uniform when looked over as they were soaked with sweat.

Locks of your hair are clinging to your dewy skin and Jing Yuan does his best to avert his gaze. You mumble something, breathe hot and thin - “What’s wrong with me?” Jing Yuan tenses in your hold and his head drops down as he cannot look at you when he delivers the painful truth to you.

“It’s a heat - rather, your first heat. Due to your constant use of suppressants you have developed an unexpected tolerance to them. As of right now, they will no longer have an effect on you.”

Your silence is deafening and Jing Yuan dares not to look at your face as he continues.

“You must pass through this heat. If not your fever will rise dangerously and your life will be at risk.” All he gets from you is a quiet and stifled sob, one that makes the alpha in him yelp at the sound of a distressed omega in his presence. Jing Yuan is quick to draw you close and keep you covered with the blanket, pressing your face into his neck so you may experience the comfort of an alpha’s scent to ease you through your distress. It works as you take each tearful mouthful of his rich scent and taste the osmanthus on your tongue.

“I’ve never shared a heat with anyone, I’ve never shared anything like this with anyone - there is no one I can ask for that. How can I see this through?” You mumble with a watery voice, croaking with defeat as you nudge your nose against the general’s scent gland, unknowing to how the man shifts beneath you. You can feel some of the oil of his scent gland rub off on your nose as you begin to settle ; eyes going half lidded and your body temperature grows higher and higher. A warm hand settles on your tan back, fingers playing with the ends of your hair to soothe as your own scent grows sweeter in his embrace. Your words echo in Jing Yuan’s head as a semblance of shame takes root in his mind. His hand that had sat at your waist to support your current position twitches as his sharp mind comes to the most obvious conclusion - even if it was the one that brought him the most shame.

“Share it with me.” His rich voice murmurs into your ear, voice soft with a sort of tenderness he only reserves for you. He offers to play games and share meals with you in the same voice. And it makes your needy body swoon with relief - that an alpha wants you, and wants to take care of you. The side of you, that was always kept under lock and key, is deeply coveted by the man you call a friend you never had once thought was possible. It doesn’t surprise any Aeon when you utter your consent, to let him see you, touch you and have you in the ways you always skirted around when told about them in your youth. What is surprising is when you mumble out these next three words.

“I love you.”

A hand cups your face, just like before and the ache between your legs is back stronger than ever. A gold eye gleams like lightning as it bores through you down to your bone mourn.

“When this is done in the upcoming days - will you still love me, as you do now in this moment?” The answer is easy and resoundingly simple. A truth you shed like the peel of an orange.

“I always have, my Jing Yuan.”

The room becomes hot after your confession. Hotter than a fever rising to pitch, hotter than electricity, hotter than your heat. It’s sweltering even in the soft kisses Jing Yuan presses onto your lips. Even in the methodical way he touches your back and your waist, feeling you up until you move an arm back to get rid of the blanket that’s been protecting your dignity. The touch of his calluses on your tan back makes you moan in between kisses and the alpha before you is overrun but orange-sweet omega want.

It’s what makes him push you down, gripping your shoulders and applying the barest hint of his strength to your form until your glistening back is flush with the bedding before you. Your knees go over his thighs, pinned beneath him and spread like a butterfly - all for him to see. It’s what you want ; you realize as the heat in your body running like a fever hits it’s peak. The clarity through the rush makes you realize your friend, your general, your Jing Yuan is here. His hands, warm and large have sneaked under the wires of your bra and you are half thankful and half not that you don’t have your glasses on so you can live peacefully without the image of him - flushed with a predatory look in his melted gold eye haunting you every time your own eyes closed. Jing Yuan lets his hands cup at the softness of your chest, thumbing and pinching and molding your pliable plushness to fit in his hands.

“How lovely - much better than any imagination.” He murmurs to you, all alpha pride and desire. It’s enough to make you whine and squirm, your stomach sweating and flushing at what he implied. That he thought of you before, that he has wanted you for so long. Your hands come to the back, he stops to watch you. Unhooking the back of the soaked through clothing that protects your modesty is ripped off of you by your own hands. As your own lithe fingers go down to tug at your underwear, shuddering when you catch sight of how the thin fabric has become translucent in your wanting you whine out to him -

“Stop playing and fuck me. Please.” You whine paired with a wobbling lip as you spread your legs out for him, settling your heels on the bedding so he can see the webs of slick that drip out and down your inner thighs. Like threads of melted sugar the alpha within in the general salivates at the thought of suck sweetness being claimed and then being only for him. It’s why he agrees, nodding with a chuckle to deep you almost thought you made it up in your head and you gasp when two hands push and push at your legs until your knees are at your chest.

“One thousand apologies, I never would have imagined you’d be so needy.” When you are better you will curse him, you think far in the back of the mind where you are still sane enough to flush red at the position you are in. While you are whinny and petulant and utterly needy his voice remains as polished as cultivated jade and cool as steel. More words leave his lips, praise glazed in hot sugar like hawthorn berries as you feel the fat head of something press against the seam of your cunt. Trying to get a look, you go to angle your head down only for a strong hand to wrap around your chin to keep you from moving. No pressure, just his hand there - and your eyes see the pink on his skin, some sweat on his cheek and a dilated pupil, full like the moon.

“Don’t look, don’t look away from me. Not ever.” His voice is ragged with desperation, illustrious jade cracking as his cock is pressed flush against the opening of your cunt. You nod, pressing your forehead to his - white hair soft against your skin as the way his cock goes in and stretches you out is not. It’s pleasurable, the way it’s heavy and hot and thick inside of you but - your body knows what it needs, and what it needs is Jing Yuan to fuck the heat away, to make it all better. His cock keeps going, sliding in and in as you gasp with your jaw dropped over it, drooling. You feel a thumb of the hands that’s keeping your head upright rub at your cheek then at your lip and then his thumb is placed right at your tongue. A smile takes his face but it is not cool or kind - a ravenous hunger awaits in his canines as he looks down at you.

“I will always be here to see you like this, understand? Only me. Never go out to others for this ever.” He murmurs to you as his moves his hips back dragging his length through you only to push it forward again. As you nod at his words you realize what that is -he’s fucking you.

And it’s all you ever want.

It’s going to be hard, to go back to not having this every second of every day. It feels so good, like your body is melting from the inside out with every clap of his hips against your ass. Too much, you had warbled to him in a pathetic and wet voice. Your eyes are glazed over and your head is tilting to show off your neck - subconsciously. But you know you don’t care about rationally, even when you know better. Taught from an early age that an omega should never show the part of their neck where the softest bit of your skin is located. Not unless they were showing it to an alpha that want to be with forever, and when the head of Jing Yuan’s cock fills you and kisses a soft nerve on your inner wall that makes your body seize from pleasure - yes you think, you want forever with Jing Yuan. You want to smell of osmanthus and you want to play Star Chess for as long as he wants and you want to feel like this with him forever.

“Bond with me - please, please.” You utter through sheer desperation , letting your ankles cross at the small of his waist to keep him as close as possible. He comes down, a smile with the sweetened smugness of his lips as his chest pressed down on yours. His weight is comforting and his hips don’t stop fucking you even like this. You gasp and he teases you - “Are you sure? You want to be mine and only mine?”

You answer with a nod, with a whine and even with your hips canting up to fuck yourself back on his cock mindlessly.

“Such a good girl.” He tells you, voice soft with affection at how you can’t even utter what it is you want.

All of it is too much for him - even a general as finely crafted as him crumbles under the weight of his want. His hands go to your ass and they each take as much as they can to lift your lower half off the bedding and to keep you in the air so he can fuck you just like that. Like a toy for him to use while his nose presses against your scent gland, tonguing at the nerve just to make you shiver and cry. With a laugh his mouth at it next and it makes your eyes roll back as you feel something prod at your lower half. A flare of girth and length that teases at the lips of your cunt at right when you feel the pin prick of strong teeth dig into your skin you feel it slip in.

His knot.

Your cunt welcomes it just like it did with the rest of his cock, stretching you out so well it aches as you finally teeter off the edge. You cream around the bulb of it and you squirm when you feel your and his cum drip out the seams of your cunt. It’s wet and messy but as your hips still rock back and forth on it you only for his weight to pin you down on the bed. A kiss is pressed to your cheek, then to your eyes and your forehead. The hand that kept your head upright is now massaging at your sore thigh. You mumble something - a cross of thank yous and his name and Jing Yuan shushing you kindly.

“There, there, rest for now my sweet - we have all the time you need.” He murmurs voice endowed with adoration and patience. You nod and your body losses its tenseness at his command and it’s buzzing how good obeying him feels. Craning your head you kiss him one last time, filled with him and his bite mark on your neck.

“I love you, I’ve always loved you.” You murmur, clear from an sickness of the heart and with resounding clarity. It makes him laugh, how puppy like you are now with how he has you. He kisses you back.

“As I you, my love.”

Usually he’s the one making some sort of move on you, using his penchant for verbosity to regale you with all sorts of magical mishaps and you always sit there listening to sweetly. You smile at him, showing your teeth and crinkling eyes and Gale knows he belongs to you entirely. It’s only until now does Gale realize just how deeply you belong to him in return.

You sought him out, clearing your throat at the flaps of his blue tent asking if you can come in. He sets away his tome, and looks at you with something smitten dancing in his gaze. He can hear faintly the chatter of your shared companions as dishes are washed and stored, the rumbling of Lae’zel sharpening her blade and Wyll recounting a tale of hunting down some beast or another to Astarion, Shadowheart and Karlach.

A moment of privacy, no one will wonder where it is that you are - he realizes.

“Anything I can do for you - consider it most enthusiastically done.” Gale says, voice kind and soft with no bells or whistles like you first met. It makes you laugh fondly, and your eyes flicker from the ground to meet his with a smile so warm it feels like waking up to the sun cresting over the sky on his face after a long night. A little devious dance of mischief appears on your face and your voice deepens, dipped in humor.

“Oh really? Anything at all?” You ask, drawing close enough to him to wrap both your hands around his bicep. You tilt your head, hair following the motion and making it spill over your shoulders in the most beautiful way it makes his chest ache. Gale’s adoration must painted on his face in a way even you can pick it up with the way you grow shy and avert your gaze. His thumb places itself on your chin snd his nudges you to look up at him and his digit rubs at the soft skin lovingly. His eyes are dark between the two of you, the warm brown lost to the eclipse of his pupils as he looks down at you.

“Oh yes, anything at all.” Your eyes are wide and he can feel the warmth his words brings to your face. He smiles and you look up at him with bitten lips and your fingers gripping his sleeve.

“Anything?” You ask again, leaning into him and he can catch a whiff of the vanilla perfume you have been rationing this entire trip. He usually would think of as impressive but right now he finds the scent so heavy he can taste it when all Gale wants to taste is you. He dips his head down to meet yours with how it’s been tipping up and he only speaks when you feel his bottom lip brush against yours.

“Anything.” Your eyes go lidded, usual sparkling and bright there is a timid dim to them. Like there’s something you want and are still thinking on how to ask. Your lip is felt against his and Gale breaks into shivers when you speak.

“Even a kiss?”

Gale doesn’t have a response, instead leans into your space - the scent of vanilla and the warmth of the sun radiances imbrued into your skin. He has been kissed by the mouth of divinity so many times before but nothing compares to this.

Not even rose-water.

You are so gentle with him, moving your lips with deep presses and just barely letting your tongue touch his lips. Until he takes your chin in one hand, tilts you head up to kiss more directly - to feel your tongue slip into his mouth and for them glide past each other. You shiver, he feels it and he groans at how you tremble from just a kiss alone. Your hands are mighty with how they gripe at his robes, rising on the tips of your toes to kiss him more and more.

More passionately, deeper with your head turned to the side and he delights in how weak you turn when he sucks on your tongue. You part not because you want to but because you must - the air is sweet to your lungs but you find that you don’t care for it. Not when what it is that you want is here, right in front of you with lips flushed pink.

“Is that all you needed help with?” He chuckles, letting his thumb rub against the skin of your shoulder that is exposed from your night clothes. You shake your head, and come closer to him to rest your forehead on his chest.

Right where the orb sits. Right where his heart beats.

You can feel its weight, a faint thrum of magic in tandem with his heartbeat that pulses against your skin.

“I’ve been having a problem of a - intimate persuasion. And I,” you pause to lift your gaze up to him with your face still pressed to his chest. “I only trust you to help me with it. If you want to.” With eyes flickering away in a bout of timidness you fail to note how pink Gale gets at the confession - teeth digging into the skin of his lip as he whispers to you his enthusiast consent. It’s a blur, how he sits on you on his lap with his thigh pressing against your cunt.

You’ve bunched up the skirts of your nightgown, and Gale stiffens at the sight of the sweet cotton panties that you wear. A pretty pale blue, with lace at the trim against the flush of your thighs - he wonders if you’ve soaked them before, playing with your cunt on your lonesome in your tent. He wonders if you’ve thought of him while doing so. His leg shifts to get more comfortable and he feels it ; how it brushes against the forth-most part of your pussy, and how you tense.

Something in Gale grows wicked, and his hands are at your hips moving you at just the right angle and at just the right pace for you to flush. Your eyes grow misty and you are tucking your face against his neck so he doesn’t see how your jaw drops at how good it feels. Gale hums most amused at your timidness, chuckling into your ear as he pets your hair.

“This is what you needed, isn’t it?” His voice is deep, much deeper than when he’s recounting his mystical mishaps from his academy days. “Reckon you got tired doing the work?”

You nod, with a whiny mewl of a yes as you moan at the heat in your stomach. You’re wet and you are sure Gale can feel it against his pants. Your slick makes a wet stain on his velvet sleepwear - when you murmur your embarrassed apologies the wizard is quick to sweep away your hair and press a kiss to your heated cheek.

“Don’t apologize, it’s not a problem.” He tells you with a soft tone. You tremble with how he looks at you, with dark and heated eyes. Gale grips at your hips enough to make it ache and he moves you at his pace. Faster and harder than before and it makes pleasure sing in your blood.

“Next time you need this sort of attention, come find me alright? I’ll help you.”

It’s half a love confession and half isn’t. Gale doesn’t think he can stomach the idea of you asking anyone else for help with this sort of problem. You can’t imagine having anyone else touch you like this. You don’t think you will ever want someone else after this.

You come with all heat and fire. Your cunt is pulsing and sticky with your clit aching. Body still shaking, you don’t realize you’re being soothed by Gale’s soft praise and petting of your head. It’s kind, the way he touches you like you are a fragile little thing.

You are a careful woman - everyone on the Going Merry would agree on that. You always had the same docile and patient smile on your face. None more than Zoro, always noticed it. Luffy rushes in, Nami and Usopp run away but you stand firmly on your feet and face your problems with enough considerate cunning that it makes you a little scary. At least, that is what Usopp thinks so after watching you take down some of Captain Kuroo’s parents at the battle of the beach on his home island. It’s chalked up to your military background, the way your back is always straight and the way you delicately roll back your sleeves to sit at the table of the Baratiate resturant.

While everyone else is laughing loudly and teasing Luffy you smile, chuckling softly at their antics with a fondness in your eyes as you eat your food. Zoro watches as he always does - even when he’s fooling around he takes in the way you move through the world and finds even how you raise your spoon to eat your food to be elegant. Like a butterfly fluttering high in the air from flower to flower.

It seems he isn’t the only one.

When the blond cook who has been attending the table - more like flirting with Nami had gotten chewed out by the head chef you had been so absorbed in your meal that you were only half paying attention to anything else until you feel a warm hand on your shoulder. It makes your head perk up and look at a glass of juice being poured in front of you as the same with Nami. Another glass filled with a variety of fruit, all neatly chopped is placed in front of the both of you.

“My apologies, I hope I can make it up to you both with this delightful fruit macedonia, my princesses.”

Zoro who had been watching the exchanged with a raised brow, feels it twitch at how the pet name makes you stiffen. Nami leans into it, smiling and speaking in a girlish voice to sweet talk the curly brow cook but you don’t. Instead, you are quiet and have your eyes pinned on the fruit filled jar and playing with the hem of your shirt. The kind, careful smile you always wear is gone, the line of your mouth now being bitten as you take sneaking glances at the cook who is currently being yelled at by Usopp.

Once Nami seals her deal to get out of paying - you tap his arm to get his attention.

“You said you are the sous-chef, Sanji, correct?” when he nods you smile, though wobbly and clearly more timid than the one Zoro’s seen. Than the ones you give him. “I just wanted to say thank you personally, the food really was delicious, I’ve never had anything like this before. Thank you.”

Your words are honest, and as always, incredibly kind. They were said in good faith, one of the many small kindnesses you give to people but with the way the cook erupts into a flustered mess - paired with steam coming up out of his head and hearts in his eyes it makes the swordsman who’s been growing more annoyed with this interaction think he took it as a love confession.

“I’d be happy to cook for you whenever you’d ask my princess ! I am at the complete disposal of a sweet flower such as you ! Whenever and whatever you want!” The blond cook exclaims, down on one knee and holding your hand in his delicately like some sort of prince - even daring to press a gentle kiss to the back of it. It makes everyone at the table roll their eyes at his antics but when their gaze goes to look at you they are frozen in shock at what they are seeing.

You are…blushing. A soft and bright pink - Usopp mutters that he never knew someone could turn that color, down to your ears and collarbones all the way to your chest that can be seen by the low cut of you top. The hand that isn’t held by Sanji comes to cover your face as you avert your eyes. In a shaky voice, stuttering and shy you speak behind your palm.

“Mister Sanji, p-please don’t be so forward with me…”

The tea cup that Zoro had in his hand shatters from his grip, and thankfully he had finished the tea in it before it broke. As Sanji turns to shout at the greenhaired man you miss the mischievous look Usopp and Nami share over the commotion. Annoyed at being yelled at Zoro calls out that he going to step out, stomping to the door as Sanji takes Luffy with him to finish working off the debt your captain had built up from destroying the building. Leaving you, still pink and covering your face with a grinning Usopp and Nami.

When you had first been approached by the Stellaron Hunters, it had been with an elegant woman dressed in a fine black coat. She was in your living quarters lounging away in your chair drinking from a wine glass that most definitely wasn’t yours. On your coffee table was a bottle of red wine, the label in a language you didn’t recognize. You heard a quiet laugh one that you imagined the cat would make when it has cornered the rat. Your heart raced in your chest, panic nigh high as you gazed at the woman’s empty pink eyes with her voice deep and hypnotic on your head.

“Listen to me. Close the door,” You were obeying with your heart racing in your chest as your hand went to input the code that locks your quarters from the inside rather than the outside. She finishes the last of her wine the tint a red so deep it was almost black, tinged her lipstick darker that it once was. She had praised you for your compliance as if it was voluntary and then - the world went back.

“Listen to me - go to sleep.”

The world turns dark.

You awake with the same woman next you, sitting on a plain chair like the kind you see in hospital shows the IPC likes to push. Your head pounds but you soon realize that you are fulled dressed and you let out a exhausted sound.

“Good thing you are awake - I thought I might have used too much force on you.” The woman speaks voice slow and measured like she’s talking about something so mundane like the weather rather than the concerning topic of your kidnapping. Her coat rests on the back of her chair rather than her shoulders like when you first saw her as if she was trying to add an air of causality to the conversation.

“You’ll have to grow out of that for the work we brought you here for little bird.”

“What have you brought me here for?” You ask finally finding your voice that you thought was lost to you. The woman merely smiled and explained it all to you in a soft and measured words like priceless silk on your ears. You had been picked with handler work for a specific team member. One who often loses himself to his madness to the point he poses a threat to others on the team. Which is where you come in as a one that has caught the gaze of the Harmony you would prove useful in subduing this particular member. That was 4 months ago - that you know off. You aren’t taken out to the field, and all you do is wait for your charge to return from his missions. Your world is limited to the well furnished 2 bedroom suite you share with him.

Blade - wanted for a bounty of 8.13 billion stands before you soon enough. He is tall and broad, standing a full head above you looming with great muscled mass. Saffron colored eyes burn through you like you are a mere dying ember rather than the one that is made to control him. The first few times you are with him where quiet affairs, merely extending your power to him when something too dangerous would glint across his eyes when returning from a mission with the others. A mere touch of his shoulder and an incantation had his eyes dimming and muscles uncoiling.

They were quick and quiet affairs - you find yourself quickly growing attached to the routine of comforting your charge after missions. You think you can you live like this for some time, longer thought you would before this became your new reality.

Until today.

He comes back from the mission bloodied and wild, freshly healed jagged line glowing pink among the pale palor of his skin visible by the long cut going down his dark shirt. You are docile and naive when you first see him spoiled rotten by routine that you merely approach him frowning at how long it will take you to fix the tear going down his shirt to notice his hand coming out to grip you by the back the neck.

The same way one would do so with an unruly kitten.

Your hear races and you look up at him with eyes dilated with fear and to him in his haze only makes him growl at you. He picks you up and your feet dangle off of the floor like that - with merely the strength of his fingers on the back of your neck and he has you on the bed bouncing on the mattress with you looking up at him with wide eyes. Your heart beats wildly in your chest and you swallow when you feel something hot run through your veins at the show of brute strength. You tremble like an animal caught in a steel trap when you feel the heat of his calloused hand gripping your ankle entirely, fingers meeting as drags down to the edge of the bed where like always he looms over you.

A shadow that scares you, that frightens you that - bewitches you. He looks into your dark, blown out eyes that aren’t as scared as they should be and the way his lips twitch at the glimmer of timid lust peaking through makes him rumble in his chest. You squirm in his grip, hiking up your leg in an attempt to pull away but even you find that lacking, as you look up at his handsome face and burning eyes. You find that you don’t mind this, not when it ties into all your fantasies you have - all from being left alone for so long with nothing but him.

“Say you want me too.” It’s the first time he speaks, voice deep and rough with desire so deep you almost couldn’t bear it. You gulp, pulling your leg up futility as your mind races. It would be dishonest to say no you admit yourself. You have always found Blade attractive, the sight of him shirtless an often occurrence would be the material of your fantasies at night when you think he’s asleep in the other room separate by thin walls. When you try to pull your leg up again you fail because he instead tugs it up to him, settling your heel on his shoulder and placing a surprisingly tender kiss on your calf. Something in you wobbles, and you can’t help but notice how the small gesture makes your legs relax and open up to him.

“Okay.” It’s whimpered out, said with enough force that is makes the dark strands of hair stuck to your face blow in the soft breeze from your lips. A word so simple and so small makes the villain above you tremble from his wanting and you can’t even catch your breath in time when he lunges forward to press a kiss so deep to your lips you worry Blade wants to consume you. Like a snake with a mouse, a wolf to a rabbit, him to you. The kiss is so violent you gasp when you feel the nipping of his teeth at your bottom lip and Blade is no different here than he is in combat. Your mouth is open and he presses his tongue into the soft cavern of your mouth, letting it flow past your own in a seductive waltz that’s enough to make you moan for him. The sound makes him purr, you feel the rumbling in his exposed now healing chest and you feel so helpless when one of his hands goes to grip your thigh, fully wrapping around its softness to pull it up and away so he can press the whole of himself against you.

It’s enough to make you blush, warm and vivid as you squirm from the feeling the weight of him pressed against the most intimate crux of your thighs - you can feel the swell of his bulge stiff and hard against your aching cunt. Blade pulls away from your lips not without nipping at them one last time to make you whimper and you can see the same thrill-sick smile he wears on his handsome face when in a fight leering down at you.

“Tastes sweet, give me more.” You feel lost in a haze, his words lulling you just like Spirit Whisper does - so you nod your head emptily your eyes dilated and wanting for him. Your mouth is relaxed, letting out sot whines when you feel his calloused hands go to grip your body, they sink and squeeze the soft flesh of your breasts his thumbs finding the peaking tips of your nipples to pull and play with at his leisure. You remind him of any sort of small, soft furred pet so easily pleased by gentle little touches that it makes Blade chuckle into your lips.

“So easily pleased, I will enjoy having my way with you.” He rumbles voice so deep it lulls you deeper into the searing heat in your belly as your chest gets played with more and more until you squirm beneath him. Desperate and keen to have more you let your hand sneak down to the bottom of your top and begin to try to take it off, desperate to feel his skin on your own rather than be groped through your clothes.

“More - please more, I want to feel you please.” You plead, lifting your top until your soft stomach is revealed and your hand is taken over his own that grip the sides of your thin shirt and rip the material away from you in a show of pure strength.

“More?” he laughs like your pleas deeply amuse him, like the thrill of debasing you is enough to make him break from the fog of his mind to smile at you with glinting fangs in the dark of your room. “Very well then, I will give you all that you ask for and more.”

Your flesh is no different then you spirit - both belonging to him now that you feel the bare skin of his hands gripping at whatever is available to him. His hands pass over the softness of your stomach the touch almost ticklish until you feel how his hands grope at your chest. His hands are warm and rough - their touch against your breasts makes you sing the soft cry of your pleasure. Blade watches you faithfully, keeping his eyes on your flushed face even as his own face descends to where his hands are pinching and pulling at your supple flesh.

The peaks of your nipples are hard against his fingers and the ache in his jaw is too much to bear. You have no warning to his touch - you are so deep in it now, pleasure is like the waves of the coast’s on your home planet you think dazed. His mouth comes to seal around one of your nipples and like a torrent the heat buzzes down to your stomach from how good it feels. You are whining, squirming from beneath him your hips grinding against his form having your chest played with. You can hear him grunt faintly from below you, and you flinch when you feel one of his hands go to your bottoms and tug at them until you hear another haunting rip. The cold air of the ac is felt on your bare skin, making you shiver from the difference of temperature. His hot mouth that moves from one nipple to the other, the cold air on the heated, sticky flesh of your cunt that flutters at the attention your nipple gets as the other one fizzles from the stimulation. Your hands go to Blade’s hair, lost in the dark blue tresses and you whine weakly at the peaceful look of serenity on his face.

“You enjoying yourself?”You ask, mind addled by the lust and your hips settling in a rhythm against his own crotch as your rub your own need against the bulge in his pants. Saffron eyes open and the burning red is so consumed by the inky black of his pupil that it alone answers your question. He answers you with not with words but with actions, the feeling of his fingers at your the wet seam of your cunt. He merely rests them there, letting the pads of his fingers touch the leaking slick like honey that drips out of you so sweetly.

“I think we both are.” Blade says pulling way from you, strings of spit following him as this fingers cautiously press into you. It makes you gasp, arching into the touch as his fingers find the glistening pearl of your clit that wants for pressure, to be touched and to be used. Whining into the air between the two of you it makes you tremble the dexterity that Blade shows as he beings to twirl his sticky fingers around your pearl.

“I am glad Kafka sought you out,” Blade mumbles to you, pressing a final kiss to the peaked nub of your nipple before bringing his attention to your lower half , “You deserve to be rewarded for your work.” Any though you might have had is gone as you feel his finger press into the entrance of your cunt - his fingers are long, longer than your own and it make you break out in shivers at just how full only one feels. Your hands that have hanged at your sides uselessly curled into weak half fists, now come to clutch at his broad shoulders with dull nails leaving the skin red as you feel his finger pump in and out of you.

“Are you really that happy I am here?” The question comes out wobbly and more pathetic than you would have liked but your heart soars when you hear his deep hum of agreement. It makes your cunt flutter, the needy thing it is and you feel him shift to press another finger against you. You are a whimpering little mess, squirming and gasping at how good it feels when he curls the two fingers that have made their way inside of you. He does it rhythmically, on sound counts of one, two, one, two that make you leak down to his broad palm.

“Yes, I am,” the words come out breathless and your thigh aches where it is held in place so Blade can watch how your flushed cunt takes his fingers like it never wants to part with them. Your wanting makes you a mess and the bits of praise he gives you clearly make you want for more as you twitch up against at his admittance.

“Always so very helpful, even now - you are a true gift brought to me. A small pleasure to spoil myself with.” Blade speaks to you and it’s almost too much. He never says much but each word spoken in that deep voice you would dream about at night is making your chest ache after spending so much time alone. The pleasure of having his fingers feel around that special bundle of nerves in your cunt. Your fingers dig deep into the muscle of his shoulders and your back arches like a bow about to be released as you cum with a half breathed gasp for the first time this night.

His fingers keep moving, prolonging the pleasure until it comes out in rivets - sticky and messy now at your thighs that cools off immediately when exposed to the air of the room. You are watched ever presently, and burning black eyes watch you like prey at how your tilt your head back to gasp into the pillows bearing the gentle slope of your neck to him. His lips brush against the soft skin and you are so lost in the sea that you don’t feel him there until you bear the stinging of his teeth digging into the skin there.

You gasp, tensing up and stiffen until he pulls away - with a dark mark blooming the fairness of your skin with the perfect indents of his teeth imprinted on your skin.

“There.” Blade states simply as if it was the most common thing in the world to do. You don’t even have time to react before you feel two strong hands lock around your thighs and twist you around, laying you on your back with your knees pressed to your chest. You feel exposed and meek like this, trembling beneath the weight of him as Blade fluidly like a panther upon the weak rolls his shoulders a mere show of how easily he can overpower you.

You let out a squeak - a sound so thin you are surprised he even heard as you how he smiles vaguely at you from above you. But you find that you can’t even meet his gaze when as you feel something hard pressed against you. The length and girth from the touch alone paints it in your mind as impressive but you squirm when feel it’s leaking head press against you. It is futile however, a rabbit can not rum from the trap once it’s leg is caught and there is no where left for you to turn too as Blade presses the length of himself into you slowly, deliciously. You feel like a fish out of water, failing to catch your breath at just how big it feels ; your fingers or your fantasies could have never prepared you for this, the real long, hard and hot thing between your legs.

Your nails are racking down the muscle of his arms, leaving trails of fire in their wake that quickly heals over leaving his skin like porcelain while your own figure it stained with bruises in the shape of his finger tips. Blade fairs no better than you, mouth agape and brow beaded with sweat at your tightness despite it being lax and wet from his fingers your poor pussy struggles to accommodate him. Spreading your legs to have both placed on his shoulders he’s pressed against you completely. Skin against skin and he is quick to press his face against yours - to press kisses into your gasping mouth as he continues to drive his length into you.

“Good - you are doing very good, just take what is left.” He murmurs in between tugs on your bottom lip and you nod your head emptily whining vaguely at the prospect of there being more. You don’t even know when it is you started to weep - messy and noisy little bleats of it being too much for you when you can feel his hips flat against yours. He rest inside you, full and pulsing in your walls and you can feel Blade’s heartbeat dancing at the same pace as your own.

You open your mouth to speak but find nothing comes out as you moan with how good the drag of his cock feels against your walls, stimulating every part of your being to your innermost self to your core. Your eyes water with fresh tears and you stutter out gasps of his namesake, making him shiver down to the marrow of his spine as he drives further into you. His form crowds yours on the bed, bending you in half completely as Blade has his way with you. The sound between the two of you grow louder and louder - the smacking of his hips against yours, the endless moans between the two of you and the wet shucking noise your messy cunt makes from how good he fucks you fill the room in a degenerate orchestra.

You make the mistake of peering down at where you connect and let out a withering gasp that Blade matches with a thin laugh. You see it - strings of your slick cling to the flushed sides of his cock in a creamy mix and you let out a cry as Blade feels you clench on him.

“Do you like that? Do you enjoy watching yourself get fucked? He asks you, voice heated and breathless as he gazes at you from above. He takes in your flushed face and half lidded eyes and the way your mouth hangs letting out soft and needful little sounds. Your confession comes out tumbling from your lips - wet and pathetic little babbles of mindless “yes.” Your hands that clung to his shoulders go to wrap around his neck and lace through his hair to pull and tug. Blade moans, back arching and angling his hips to hit you deeper, another scant few inches sinking into you.

“Fuck me - please, please.” You whimper into his lips that brush against yours, flushed and kissed raw. He nods, obediently and the pace picks up and you blush bright red when you hear the beat of the headboard beating against the wall. Gasping, your clit aches for more attention and you find your own hand coming down to folds of your cunt to rub wet little circles to the needy nub. You cum just from that, having the pearl of you clit petted a little and with every inch of Blade buried so deep inside of you feel him in your stomach. You don’t even have the strength to tell him, just letting out a wailing cry as you cunt turns soft around him.

Blade grunts from above you, brows burrowed and set as he sneaks his own hand down between the two of you and presses the rougher skin of his fingers against your twitching pearl. He rubs at the sensitive thing, even if it makes your thighs tremble and your hips buck from it being too much - he does not stop. You already came and in a desperate attempt you try to pull your head out of the water without knowing that Blade is the one who will tell you when to breath.

“One more, give me the one.” He murmurs into your lips, taking your bottom one in between his teeth letting it grow red from the bite before pressing his tongue into your mouth. Your eyes are rimmed red and crossed as you feel another orgasm coming, the rubber band begging to be snapped again on his cock but it grows too hard too fas and you don’t even recognize the pitched and whiny noises you make. Everything is a blur of sensation, everything too much yet you yearn for more and more. You let your mouth drop and slide your tongue against his mindlessly as it becomes harder and harder for your to think or to try to speak. You only murmur helplessly to him,

“I can’t - can’t come again, it’s too much.” Blade shakes his head at you, giving you harder thrusts that makes you feel the head of his cock against your limits, the wall of your cervix and you tremble beneath him.

“You can, give it to me. I won’t ask again.” His voice is clear but you catch how it wavers at the end and it feels like seeing the arms of the titan Atlas wavier under the weight of the sky. His strokes go from hard and deep to shallow and fast as your cunt flutters around his weakly. Leaning up with your last piece of strength to lift your neck you press your forehead to his, eyes close in bliss as you whine your warnings to him about the end of your rope. With a final touch to your clit, you cum with a pained squeal of his name. An orgasm so strong it makes your pelvis ache and burn as your own hips circle and jut out to try and match his.

Blade does not falter, stamina endless as he fucks you through the waves of your orgasm that make you wither, legs limp on his shoulders as he pulls away from you - hissing at how his cock catches against the seam of your cunt. Blade rests his length on your stomach, flushed a dark pink and leaking onto your soft skin as he pumps himself to completion over your stomach. His cum paints your pale skin into a translucent pearl and he shudders with the notion of more - more of you, more of this, forever.

But for now, you will rest prettily beneath him, as he gently takes your legs off his shoulders - if you were more lucid you would think it’s funny. You never would have thought a man like him would be capable of being gentle. But you see it, in the way his hands rub against your thighs and you are being tucked in. Your eyes are almost shut completely before you feel a gentle touch to your cheek. Groggily you open your eyes, and Blade gazes upon you with an unreadable expression despite the red on his face and his messy hair.

His touch is careful and delicate as his brushes hair away from your dewy cheeks. Weakly, you lean into his touch eyes closed and relax as your hoarse voice asks,

“Is this…how it will be?”

“Would that please you?” He asks back, hand stilled on your cheek as your eyes struggle to open. His face unreadable but open. You fight back a small smile as you realize that he wants to know, to know if he can make you happy.

“Yes.” You utter as you relax into his touch, fulling closing your eyes and settling into the bed more comfortably. You don’t see it but you hear his amused huffed all the same and the way he rubs his thumb against your still blushing cheek.

“You’re drunk - “ he starts only to freeze when you start to kiss at his chest. Goosebumps and a small smattering of pink begins to dust over his skin. Your fingers begin to skirt down the the green haramaki he wears. The stoic man before can help but shiver at your gentle touch. Your lips leave behind marks of sticky berry pink, and Zoro hisses at the faint marks you leave as you let your teeth nip at his taunt skin.

“You don’t have to touch me,” you murmur as your hands pull down the green fabric until it’s down his legs. Your fingers still at the waist band of his pants, ring finger gently pressing against the button of his pants. “But I want to touch you - please?”

What you know is that Zoro will indulge you - weak to the sparking heat in your eyes and the pout on your colored lips. What you don’t know is how Zoro is thinking about all the ways he is going to punish himself through vigorous training for being so weak willed, being easily tempted by you and the flutter of your eyelashes. What the hell did he train for if he can be so easily dismantled by a request he normally wouldn’t even indulge?

But it’s different, he realizes as he sees how you smile, drunk on something else that isn’t drink. It’s you who’s asking, and Zoro knows with flushed cheeks that you are his one and only weakness. Before booze, or fame, or fear of failing - you bring out the weak and frail earthly desires that rest in his flesh. It’s how you got him like this, his back to the wooden wall with you on your knees, eager and wanting. You undo the button of his pants, eyes focused on the half-hard print of his cock against his last layer as you keep your gaze on his face. Zoro does not believe in any gods, he has never had to pray to the heavens for anything but there must be something divine with how good you look like this.

Your dress riding up so he can see almost the whole of your thighs, the skin soft and plush, utterly inviting. Utterly ruining. The warm sea breeze dances over his cock but it’s nothing to compared to the heat of your mouth as you press a kiss to the head, staining it with your lipstick. You must feel him shiver, and you open your eyes and it’s humiliating that you can have more clarity in this situation than he does - you ask if he’s alright, and press another kiss to his cock this time to the shaft and Zoro feels like he’s going to die.

One tan, large, calloused hand with a square palm and long fingers goes to your head. His fingers lace through your hair, thumb rubbing against your hair to feel it’s silkiness in a brief moment of affection. Zoro is guiding your head to take his cock, you realize with a shuddering gasp and a dimness taking over your eyes. It’s head pops into your mouth and you don’t see how tightly he has to clench his fist - so tightly that his bones creak in his skin at how perfect your mouth in around the most sensitive part of his cock. You moan around the salt of his precum and you hear him curse.

“Fuck.” Deep from within his chest and voice cracking at the last syllable as he groans, gray eye shutting in pleasure when you moan around him in your mouth. Your head bobs, greedy with some sick desire to both please and torment him. To break him and to piece him back together. He’s so handsome like this, you watch his throat bob and sweat run down the vein of his neck as his grip in your hair tightens. It makes you clench, how hard Zoro tries to be honorable - to not use you for his pleasure when you are so very willing to be used by a man like him. Strong in character and body, handsome with a scarred face and strong jaw. You’ve loved him for a long time, and will love him for longer which is why you don’t mind being like this ; ruled by the headiness in between your legs as you swallow around him just feel him shudder and groan above you.

You’re more than half way around him, you can feel his cock twitch against your tongue and you hum - utterly pleased with yourself as darker green hairs tickle your nose. Turning your head and sucking hard on his length that’s pressing down your throat. You can’t yourself you think, thoughts and needs jumbled into one messy pounding between your legs. With your head moving to fuck his cock, your hands come down to the top of your dress, going into the fabric to push out your tits. The sit pretty in your palms, nipples being tweaked at by your thumbs to make you whine around the thickness of his cock.

“Damn.” Zoro sighs, pushing your head gently in a rhythm that isn’t too harsh on your throat - a gentle back and forth, a little faster than what you were doing. It’s comfortable like this for you, letting your mind simply go blank and play with your nipples that are hard and sensitive from your constant tweaking.

“You needed this bad, huh?” His deep voice comes from above you, eye transfixed on how easily you reveal yourself to him, your eyes lidded and thighs pressing against to each other to ease some of the wanting you must be feeling. That your cunt is feeling - hot and wet and soft. The thought of it makes him lick his lips, and his starts moving your head for you. Faster than before.

When you whine he only scoffs, voice deep and gruffer than ever - “Come on, finish up your fun so I can take care of you. Don’t make me wait.”

Something about his tone, demanding and commanding makes you moan around his length as you take it the deepest you have all night, swallowing around it so greedily you don’t realize that his cock twitched and swelled in it’s confines until Zoro’s form tenses from above you. It happens so fast he doesn’t even have a chance to pull out - he groans, ragged and broken as his cum spills down your throat.

There was a change in the air, you feel like in the way the air brushes against your neck and the ache you feel in your robotic arm. The cold that nips at your nerves and the electricity that zaps at the humidity of your eyes. You have felt this once, just the once. When you had stayed, bearing witness to the Stonehearts delegation on the matter of adding another stone to their priceless collection. You recall Diamond and their brilliance and find that Sunday overshadows the former completely like the moon blocking sun.

"Oh Triple Faced Soul, please sear her tongue and palms with a hot iron, so that she will not be able to fabricate lies and false vows."

Once the words have let his full lips, you wince at the overstimulating pain your eyes are victim too as a rainbow like tinge takes over your vision. There is a heat to your hands and tongue, a ringing in your ears that almost drives you mad.

"I see you still have a glaring incompatibility with the memoria," He frowns as if this is something so greatly inconveniences him and not you, "No matter, that can be remedied in time. It is rather fortunate that I am as patient as I am."

"What did you do to me?" Your voice is thin and face twisted in agony - it's a shame you miss at the cool smile on Sunday's face as he watches how you fail at trying to withstand the beginnings of the trial he aims to put you in through.

"As head of the Oak Family I have been blessed with unique abilities by our aeon. That's not so hard to comprehend is it? After all you've been in the presence of a aeon's power before." He explains calmly, hands folded neatly in his lap as he watches you from his seat at the desk in his room. You blink away involuntary tears and hiss out.

"How did you know about that?"

"About your past? Do you think the Family so welcoming to the point of complacency? I would never turn a blind eye to the details of all those that want to join - lest villains make use of this weakness and rot the wood from within." There's a steeliness to his words that makes you wince like a struck dog and you bow your head even bringing your chin to your chest to acquiesce to his words.

"What are you going to do to me? Going to try to trade me off to the IPC?" You hiss, tasting the salt of your own tears - when did you start to cry? As the ringing is only intensified.

"Maybe, if you fail my test." Came the measured response to your accusation. Through the teary film over your gaze you miss out on the way Sunday's hands tighten on the arms of his chair and the heated glint in his golden eyes. You glaring at him, eyes tinged a violet read with am attempted frown that ends up looking like more of a pout. You are a sight for sore eyes - and Sunday thinks of all the ways he can keep your misty gaze on only him.

"Fine," you say sharply as you hear the ringing turn into the edges of a harmonious choir in your ears. "Begin your fucking trial - ah!"

Strange and ravenous heat sears your tongue, like if you drank coffee straight from the boiling pot than letting it cool in your mug. Sunday as risen from his seat and stands in front of you now. Tall and looming with a displeased look on his face and the feathers by his head ruffled.

"Language." You whimper out an apology, sniffling away the tears that want to fall from the scorching of your tongue. He crosses his arms behind his back and you don't see how tightly his fist in clenched, impeccable white gloves wrinkling.

"The trial is simple. I will ask you questions and you will answer honestly."

You narrow your gaze at him, almost petulantly.

"And if I don't?"

A cool smile graces his handsome face, earrings clinking with the tilting of his head as he looks at you with the visage of utter benevolence, hiding the wickedness beneath the veil - "Then I will punish you for the crime of deceiving The Family."

The truth burns down your throat bitterly as you swallow the threat. The second shoe has dropped, and what a fool you were to think that your labor would be enough to pay off the debt for you have accumulated. Through out all your life you have learned so many lessons and bore the weight of so many lashings - each craved a fact of life into the marrow of your being that you never thought you would forget. That there is no true kindness in this universe, no mattered how glided the lips that utter the promise of salvation - you will never have it without paying with something of your own.

"So what? Do you want me to spill my guts out to you now?" Sunday answers your question with a elegant quirk of his lips before his eyes turn focused and narrowed.

"In a sense," He turns to look at the table where strewed across the appropriate oak wood where files - somewhere on them you know your name is on there, written in more blood than ink. “We both know that the IPC circles Penachony like a predator does it’s prey. I merely wish to be insured of your loyalty to The Family and know what is you want from this place.”

(The dove turns, beak and talons sharpening into that of a raptor before you and the choir sings louder in your skull.)

“Now….WHAT DID YOU COME TO SEEK IN PENACHONY?”

The ringing makes your skull shake in your skin and your teeth grind against each other so hard you can hear one tooth crack. The rainbow tinge to your vision swirls and you feel it, the overpowering presence of a aeon - Xipe, The Harmony is here. Here in this room, where you are pinned beneath their lidded gaze you cannot stop the words that spill from your lips as more salty tears and snot run down your face.

“I…wanted…to escape -“ You gasp out, each word like acidic bile on your lips as you gasp. The choir only grows, louder and louder and you wonder if you are going to bleed from your ears at this rate.

“ESCAPE FROM WHAT?” You hear his voice, sterner than it was before - no longer doused in pleasantries and platitudes. Your head aches and throbs, and you feel like you are going to vomit as you stutter out your honest answer.

“From the IPC -“you stop to sob and your vision fizzes like film being burnt, “Didn’t want to belong to them anymore.” The memoria in the air, in the room you are in swirls in your head and you see them - the visions of your childhood, of when you were poor but free and not chained to the desk where you slaved away for hours and days and months and years. The visage makes you ache, and you know you are crying in the terrible ugly way that makes you feel too vulnerable.

The swirling rainbow in your eyes comes to a halt, the choir softens it’s singing and the pain in your head eases. It’s a hum now and the Xipe’s eyes which were barely open, close shut as before. THEIR presence is gone, no longer in the room.

All that is left is you and Sunday.

You feel something touch your face, blearily eyes blink to focus and you don’t realize it but it is Sunday - staining his gloves with the salt of your tears as he gazes upon your ruined face.

“You want to be loved. That is why you left isn’t it?” He asks and your lip trembles when the realization hits you. He knows - he saw the same swirling visions of a life you lost, one where you had a family and a name and a home. He saw that you lost it and in the labyrinth of grief you fell prey to the lies of the deceiver like so many do. You wonder if Sunday pities you, Sunday wonders if you can tell how much he covets you now - more than ever.

His thumb rubs away a tear streak and his eyes - golden like the moon on your home planet glow hot.

“You have passed my trial, and for that you have earned a reward for your endurance. Would you like that?” Sunday asks and you nod limply. You would take anything after that, anything would be better than being a tortured by an aeon. There is a gentleness in how he is handling you now, even going as far as to cup you chin in his palm like you are worth the delicate care. Like you are something to treasure. It feels nice, you lean into his touch blissfully.

“Words. I need words.” Sunday does not falter, even as his heart tightness as the sight of your obedience leaves him wanting.

“Yes. Yes please - anything after that.” The words are stumbling out your mouth and there is a haze in your eyes that makes something in him stir at your desperation. He pulls his hand away and you whine like a dog not yet done being caressed. You are silenced by the words he commands of you.

“Remove your pants.” Your hands are shaky but you obey, like a mutt being taught a new trick. You only manage to undo them, and bringing them down to a little past your knees before Sunday touches you. He still as the gloves on - now wrinkled and stain with your tears from where he had cradled your face with the tenderness of a lover. The gentle caress had been enough to excite you, it’s been years since you have been touched to softly, so gently - you had forgotten what it felt like. His hand goes to your thigh and squeezes the flesh with his thumb rubbing at it softly when he feels you tense beneath him.

“Be at ease,” his voice is melodious next to your ear as he brings his lips to your cheek. “Take your reward with grace, and keep behaving - you might find a beautiful song in your future. I know well how much you enjoy music.” Beautiful white hair and emerald eyes appear in your mind and you don't miss out on his amused huff at the flush on your face at the thought.

Whatever you were about to say dies on your lips as you moan lowly at the feeling of his fingers pressing against your clothed cunt. Just the feeling of them is enough to make you fidget - body still on overdrive from before and in return you are earned a hand grasping your thigh and pinning you in place beneath him.

“Take your reward. I am not fond of repeating myself.” He orders you, tone sterner than before and you hear him make the clicking sound of pity as he takes in how a merely caress is enough to make you tremble. He keeps petting you, with gentle and even strokes as you moan his name softly - until you feel how your cunt soaks through your underwear enough that Sunday can see the shape of your clit. You whine when you feel his thumb press against it and spread your legs for him without being told to when you feel the circles he rubs into it.

“Well done, good pet. I much prefer you like this.” He utters, transfixed and focus on the wet look of pleasure on your messy face. Your mouth drops open and any hint of that harden criminal that you are falls apart exposing yourself to how desperate you are. Sunday can see the way you shudder at his praise than his touches and he rewards you by pulling your underwear to the side and exposing your center to the cold air of his office. You whine but he hushes you, and slides his fingers down the mound of tacky curls at your pubic bone and slips a still gloved finger inside of you.

You keen and it reverbs in his office like an opera house.

“Noisy thing you are - you’ll ruin my gloves.” Sunday speaks but you are not listening, eyes cast down to where his finger disappears inside of you and staining the white satin blend of his gloves a dark gray with your slick. Your hands grip at the arms of the chair, your metal hand making the wood creak and dent as he slips in another finger inside, going in deep to press against the bundle of nerves at your upper wall. You mewl his name, the polite honorific of mister in front of it like always makes the tent in his pants more obvious to you as you keep your gaze on his bulge. You flutter around his fingers the longer you stare it and your mind wanders with all sorts of dazed and lustful thoughts.

Would his cock be as beautiful as the rest of him? Would flush the same way his ears are right now? How would it feel inside of you - oh, you want it inside you so badly. Even more so you want to watch it bob against his stomach with you inside of him, flushed and leaking against his stomach as you service Mr. Sunday for letting you stay, for being so kind to you -

You cum at that final thought, gasping his name and letting your fist hit the side of the chair weakly as your body coils around the pleasure flowing between your thighs and down onto your seat. Your body feels lax and weightless as you slump into the chair, looking at him with a hazy look on your face. Sunday looks at you with what is your approximation of tenderness and vicious satisfaction. He pulls his fingers out, removes his glove and pockets the stained fabric into his coat. His bare hand brushes some hair away from your neck, thumb on your pulse as he nudges his head to a door in the corner of the room.

“You have given me what I wanted and in return I will give you what you want - a place to belong to, one carved solely for you at my side. You are mine now, do you understand?”

The “yes” you say tumbles past your lips before you can think it. You crave it now you think, more than ever. More than you have ever wanted before you. You are riding a high you think, as you pull up your pants and walk past Sunday to go into the door he pointed you out to you.

You don’t think you ever want to sober up, your hand grips the doorknob and you look back at him over your shoulder - eyes still glassy post orgasm and a hungering in your stomach for more of his touch and his command. The door opens and you swallow around your thoughts. The night continues with more pleasure, more touching and Sunday is going to spoil you rotten you think as you lay his stained bed sheets shuddering from the shocks of pleasure in your heightened system.

“She usually this tired at this time of night?” John asks, blowing away smoke so it wouldn’t permeate near your face. Javier hums, turning to give you a glance with something soft in his eyes. Something softer than that of what John has ever seen as Javier lifts a gloved hand to carefully brush some hair from your face.

“She’s been going in and out of the city for the past few weeks, trying to get supplies and pick up any leads,” Javier explains with so much pride in his voice it’s all John can hear. He merely hums, bringing his cigarette to his lips to take a drag while looking at you considerably.

“Guess that explains why I haven’t seen her around camp as much,” He comments around the taste of tobacco as he recalls that there has been a drop of how much he has seen you around the camp. The conversation continues from there on, John lulled by the calm comfort Javier brings. So much so he doesn’t notice how your head lifts, eyes lidded not by sleep but with something else - something that eats at the pretty color of your irises, your pupil consumes the color completely. What John does notice is the sound of a belt clinking, dark eyes flickering from Javier’s face to you and he balks the sight.

You, on your knees with your hands in Javier’s pants, with lips parted and eyes lidded until his cock was pulled free. John couldn’t help but swallow at the sight of your hand hardly being able to wrap around it. Dark eyes watch as something hot grows in his stomach with the way you press dainty kisses on the shaft, you eyes fully shut as you lose yourself in pleasing him. John’s mouth dries as it drops as he watches you - sensible, meticulous and put together you (you even spread out your skirt to avoid getting grass stains on it) take the head of Javier’s cock in your sweet mouth.

“You want to watch John?” Javier’s voice cuts through the spell you put on and John swallows at the question. His eyes flicker up to Javier’s face and finds it smug with something dark in his eyes. Javier’s hand goes to your hair, gripping the braid you put your hair in for sleep and wrapping it around his fist. He coos at you - calls you a pet name in Spanish that is doused in affection that makes you keen with glassy eyes and gripping his denim covered thighs.

“Jesus,” John’s voice breaks, thick with lust and cigarette smoke.

“She wants you to watch,” Javier says voice growing breathless as you take more of him into your throat, gagging slightly with each inch. He brings his cigarette to take a drag and the way the smoke clouds around him is artful. John swallows and takes a drag of his owns, gray eyes stormy as he watches how dutifully you suck on Javier’s cock, moaning while nearing down the base with spit dripping down to your chin.

“Why the hell does she want something like that?” John hisses, throwing and stomping it out the burning end his eyes watching how you let go - how Javier uses your hair in his grip to fuck himself in and out of your mouth. Your pretty face is flushed and wet, spit going do to your tits, soaking your chemise and tears going down your neck. Javier laughs around his hiss of pleasure, turning to gaze at John’s flushed face before taking one last and deep breath from his cigarette.

“It’s her reward. She’s been working hard, I want to indulge her.” Javier says, voice rough with smoke and lust. It makes something in John shiver as he watches the fondness with which Javier gazes at you, he’s seen that look on his friend’s face around camp but to see it even now, makes his pants feel tighter than the did before.

“She always have funny thoughts like this?” John asks swallowing around his words as he steps closer to where Javier stands, until he is right next to him, shoulder to shoulder. John watches you, sees the looks of absolute debauched peace on your face while your mouth is used and fucked. He thinks about how you would look giving his cock the same attention, and he breaks into a cold sweat at the image of you looking up at him with hearts in your eyes and your ruined mouth. The man asked merely hums, pushing your head down until your nose is pressed against the thatch of dark hair on his pelvis.

“Sometimes, some include you and I don’t mind making them come true when she earns them.” Javier explains, voice surprisingly measured despite how he grunts - nearing his end. Javier cums with a quiet grunt, gripping your hair hard enough to make you whine as you swallow all that Javier gives you. The Mexican man shivers and pulls himself away from the heat of your mouth as he rubs the back of your head in a tender apology. John curses at how Javier’s cock - wet and messy rests on your lips at you kiss the weeping slit until Javier pulls away from you completely. He calls his name and John’s heart skips a beat at the grin on his friend’s face.

“So, want a turn?” Between your pleading looks and Javier’s charming grin - John Marston really couldn’t bring himself to say no that night. He can never say no to cigarettes or to either one of you.