romancedawn | 𝐈𝐂 𝐈𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 🦚 𝙶𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝙿𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚘𝚌𝚔

( That was his first inclination, but since Sanji is ~~first boyfriend~~ also her boyfriend and presumably has been on dates with her, he's going to need to come up with something special on his own. )

yes ma'am.

( He's found his own suite to be similarly comfortable, though truth be told he doesn't spend as much time in it as others might in theirs. He's fortunate enough to have some of his crew with him in this place, and has spent considerably more time in their more lavish suites. )

That's me. ( He chuckles softly, finally stepping inside and closing the door behind him once he spots her. He raises the bottle of whiskey to present it to her, then gestures for her to lead the way to wherever she wants them to settle down and indulge. ) Ah. You don't have to worry about me, but... you might have to defend yourself a time or two in this place.

( He shakes his head at the memory of what he's endured so far. ) So it's good that you're vigilant. ( Or was she just flirting, and he's being dense? Sorry, sometimes super serious guy here - the whiskey will relax him more in a moment! )

( He thinks about how to respond for a long minute, then sends a single emoji with no intention for any additional follow-up. )

👍

What the fuck is going on?

The rod introduces him to a strange, intense pressure—a fullness that sends a jolt of something hot and exciting straight through him. He's still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that it actually feels so good; this brand of pleasure is undeniable and overwhelming, mixed with just enough discomfort to keep him on edge, his body humming with a tension that's both agonizing and exhilarating. He can only stare, mouth slightly agape, trying to reconcile the unfamiliar sensation with the man kneeling before him.

Then Rude starts to stroke him, the rod still inside, and the feeling intensifies tenfold. Each slow push and pull of the steel against his insides is a shockwave of sensation, amplified by the pressure of the rod blocking any escape. When Rude squeezes his cock around the rod, it's almost too much, a sharp, exquisite ache that makes his vision swim for a second. He grips the arms of the chair, knuckles white, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

This is insane, he thinks, but the thought is interrupted when his legs are lifted, draped over Rude's thighs. His hands are still bound behind him, leaving him completely exposed, completely at this stranger's mercy. He watches, eyes wide, as Rude's other hand moves lower; he can't see the rest, but he certainly feels it, fingers brushing against his balls, teasing the sensitive skin around his hole. A quiet, sharp gasp escapes his lips, the unexpected touch there sending a fresh wave of heat through him. It's the last straw for his already strained control. The pleasure, the confusion, the slight edge of pain—it all converges in a sudden, explosive rush.

A loud moan tears from his throat as his body arches, straining against the restraints, and he comes hard and fast, the climax shaking him to his core. He pants afterwards, chest heaving, his entire body flushed from head to toe. He feels raw, exposed, and undeniably satisfied. And maybe, just maybe, a little bit embarrassed by how quickly and loudly he reacted to this strange, confusing, incredibly pleasurable game.

I am on my way!

[ There is no order but if there was he would be first husband, SO CHILL. ]

And bring me something.

[Maybe he's trying to extend an olive branch since they're both stuck here and getting along would be better than bickering.

Or maybe he's just hoping to annoy Zoro a little.

Or MAYBE he's just really drunk and obnoxious. Whatever! Zoro gets a message with an image attached:]

Look what I found shopping!! It's you!

( Zoro stares at this new message, absolutely flummoxed.

This is... kind of cute!? Not just the rubber duck, which is inherently adorable, but the fact that Buggy is sending this to him in the first place.

What could it mean?

If Buggy is saying it looks like him just because of the green head and sword, then that would make sense...

But if he's saying it's him because it's so darn cute, then that might be a different story...)

are you gonna buy it?

[Well, Zoro is cute when he's not being a menace to clownkind, honestly. Or trying to throw Buggy's head overboard!]

Maaaybe.

Why, you want it?

( Seems sus... )

no. do you?

[And people call him paranoid!]

Why not? It can join me in the bath, I guess.

[Or he can spitefully poke it with his knife if Zoro annoys him! Win-win, right?]

i mean, what would i do with it?

( He never had a rubber ducky at bath time, sorry... )

Wait, have you never had a rubber duck?

[What did you even do as a kid, Zoro!]

Didn't you have them as a kid at least? You know, you put them in the bath with you. Sometimes they squeak or quack when you squeeze them...

( He trained and trained and trained! There was no time for playing with friends, real or rubber! )

uh. no.

( But it sounds about right as a childhood memory for a clown, so... he'll try not to judge... )

What? Boring. We've got to fix that. You need more fun, Zoro!

I remember Shanks and I used to race ours as kids, you know. Dumb red head got mad that I beat him every time!

[... He did not beat Shanks every time. But what's a little exaggeration?]

( Okay. Maybe he'll humor him. )

what do you recommend? don't say playing with rubber ducks in the bath.

( Oh. He now knows about Shanks and Buggy's entanglement from the celebrations in March, but he didn't know they went that far back. )

you guys knew each other as kids?

( He makes no comment about Buggy's claim of beating Shanks every time, because...well, lies don't need to be validated! )

Boo, boring! I'm still buying this duck. Look, I found him a friend too!

[Enjoy the next attached image, Zoro:

]

Now as for fun, there are plenty of bars, a library... so much to do and see. Red even has a ball pit! What sort of things do you think you'd like?

[There's nothing wrong with being a little silly, is there? Or maybe that's just the clown in him insisting...]

Huh? Oh, yeah. We served on the same crew together as apprentices. Practically grew up together.

( Zoro stares at this second duck for a good ten seconds. )

be honest. you got these ducks custom made, didn't you?

i've been to the bars. and the library.

( "What sort of things do you think you'd like?" hits him like Buggy just asked him "What is the meaning of life?" His hobbies are training, drinking, and napping, and he knows none of those are the answer Buggy's looking for.

Alas, he can only be himself. )

i like sparring. got my sword back recently. wanna see how many pieces i can cut you into?

( Is this friendly or is this a threat? It's not hard to tell, really... )

wow. that's why you're so close. childhood friends, huh. i had one of those.

( Oh no. )

[ she hasn't quite figured out which is worse, the immersive sets of the lord of the wings production or these smaller short films. on the plus side, despite its grand side, at least the larger movie is sizable enough that tifa isn't meant to do more than pose as extended scenery in the background, a mere extra to stand in as just another body to fill the scene. but these short films, well — she can definitely feel all of the attention on her as one of the only two present characters, especially when she's currently alone on the main set, as her partner is supposed to be waiting at the door to make his grand entrance.

one comfort is that there's no crew, no cluster of people behind the cameras to gawk at her every move and tell her how to act and make the most of showing off her body, but she can still feel the weight of being recorded, especially when the lights shine so brightly on her in her attire of sheer black lingerie.

the film is meant to be that of a fresh newlywed couple, only mere weeks into their passionate sex-crazed marriage. it's the first full moon they spend together as tifa waits restlessly in bed for her husband (insatiably horny, as the script describes it), unsure of where he is tonight, having never spent a night apart since the wedding. from this point, he's meant to appear at the door, revealing himself to be a werewolf, but instead of being scared at this new form, it only turns her on more to discover her husband's animalistic nature. even the costume is purposeful, with the straps of her panties flimsy enough to be ripped off by her feral husband, along with the front clasp of her lacy bra, able to come apart easily to appear in the film as though the werewolf tears it open with his strength to free her breasts. all at least according to the script.

for the moment, it feels plenty awkward, stretched in that underwear in the middle of the bed, all white sheets to make her stand out in that black lace, her hands sliding over her body as she squirms with the desperate need for touch. or at least she's meant to act it, not that tifa would consider herself to be a great performer. she tries though, tracing her fingers over the lace of her bodice, trailing down her belly over the length of sheer fabric that covers it until her hand dips between her parted thighs. ]

Where— where is my husband? He's never left me alone like this. Never left me n-needing him so badly. [ the lines are atrocious and plenty ridiculous, considering she doesn't understand who she's even saying these words out loud to. but her breath shudders almost naturally as she grazes the front of her panties, massaging a teasing stroke to the thin barrier that only barely covers her cunt. despite the acting of it all, there's an involuntary thrilling shudder through her as a result of the touch. ] Want to touch myself, but it never feels as good as when— [ she swallows, trying to get through the lines. ] As when he fucks me. [ one more line— say it loud enough. ] Darling, where are you!?

[ which is meant to be his cue. ]

( A low growl rumbles in his chest, an annoyance he has to actively suppress. He's late for his cue. Some idiot in the crew tried to shove a stuffy, fake wolf head over his own, and Zoro nearly snapped the man's wrist before they got the message. The shoddy makeup and tufts of fake fur glued to his hair and bare chest are the result of the hasty pivot. Paired with the fingerless paw gloves and the overlarge paw feet, as well as the shredded plaid button-up and jeans, Zoro makes for a ridiculous sight.

Finally, he hears her voice, strained and a little shaky, call out the line. "Darling, where are you!?"

That's him. He pushes the flimsy door to the bedroom set open, the frame rattling in the jamb.

The stage lights are bright, making the white sheets of the bed look sterile. And in the middle of it all is her—Tifa. Not a stranger, like he'd been expecting.

She's sprawled on the bed, a vision in black lace that leaves very little to the imagination. His eyes trace the lines of her body, the curves of her hips, the defined muscle in her thighs even as she's meant to look pliant and needy. A part of him, the part that's just a man, stirs with genuine appreciation. She's gorgeous. He can see it.

But he also sees the tension in her shoulders, and the slight, almost imperceptible tremor in her hand as it rests between her thighs. There's a flicker of unease in her eyes that the camera might not catch, but he does. She's not comfortable. He gets it. This is absurd.

He decides right then that he'll make this quick, and he'll make sure she knows it's all just an act. No surprises.

Before launching into the script, he takes a half-step into the room and murmurs, his voice low enough that it's just for her, a world away from the growl he's about to put on. )

Don't worry. We won't do anything you're uncomfortable with.

( Then, he shifts, dropping his shoulders and letting a deeper, gravelly voice take over for the cameras. He stalks forward, more like a swordsman getting his stance than a wolf, the ridiculous werewolf paws on his feet making the cheap floorboards creak. )

I'm here, my love! ( He says, the words feeling foreign and stupid on his tongue. He crawls onto the bed, the cheap frame groaning in protest, and makes sure to keep his weight on his hands and knees, hovering over her rather than pressing down. He is close enough now that he can smell her perfume. )

The moon... it called to the beast inside me. But your scent... it called to the man.

( The lines make him visibly cringe. He lowers his head, his shoddily styled hair falling into his face. He looks at her, trying to convey with his eyes that he's really, really sorry. )

This... this is my true self. The animal I keep hidden. I couldn't stay away... not tonight. Not when I need to... ravage you.

( He leans closer, his breath ghosting over her collarbone. His voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper, a mix of the cheesy character and himself. )

I can't control it... I need to claim you. To mark you as mine.

( He lets his gaze drop to her ample chest, and he realizes he doesn't quite know how to pretend to rip her clothes off without exposing her to the cameras. )

What should I do? ( He stage whispers, and if the director has a problem with it, they can cut it out of the scene. )

Hey, guy who wants to go on dates, why don't you come race me?

[ She sends a video of herself scaling one of the more advanced looking climbing walls at Talon, her body a flurry of well toned arms and legs hoisting herself up to the top in an impressively short span of time, taking a brief smug bow before the clip ends. ]

There’s no space for embarrassment after she knows she’s been caught, not with the softness of relief blooming through her when Zoro collects her into his arms and carries her into his room. The familiarity, the rightness of him holding her, doesn’t blunt all the sharp edges that are part and parcel with the fears and anxieties the powerful feelings his presence at the casino has breathed into existence—but it’s wonderful enough to make all those thorns bearable. She’d do anything for her crew, but for Zoro that sentiment deepens into something warm, something that doesn’t make it seem insane or impossible when he tells her he’ll marry her when their quest for the One Piece is said and done.

Saying nothing, Nami tucks her chin and rests her head against his collar, hiding her face as her weight shifts until her side’s snuggled securely against his chest, shutting her eyes in an effort to steel herself against the weight that’s still settled hard on her chest. Her forehead creases when he chooses to sit on the floor instead of beside her, and for what feels like a long, drawn-out moment, neither says anything, the quizzical look on his face mirrored in her own expression.

She should care more about what a fool she is for him and work hard to guard herself against that, but he wears down her armor like nobody else in this world or any. Nami is not the kind who’ll ever give up, but she knows a losing battle when she experiences one. Fighting to not adore him, to now hang on every word, touch, and glance, is a fight she’s surrendered to right around the time this fool had the audacity to tell her he needed her.

Just like then, she slips out of her seat and joins him on the floor, and just like the first time, her arms find their way around him as smoothly and comfortably as someone who’s spent years being this close to him. Her eyes are round and pensive, sadness guiding her lips to curve down in a frown as she reaches out and gently cradles the side of his face, searching his expression for a clue, because he’s beautiful, because while she can’t find the words for it, she knows he’s struggling, and she hates to be a part of it.

Her forehead rests against his as she takes a deep breath, eyes fluttering half-closed as she lets herself move past the need to think and form a plan before she does. The hand on his jaw drifts to the back of his neck, where the blunt tips of her nails graze across skin.

“What I feel for you, I don’t feel for anybody else,” she mumbles, once she’s found her voice in the wake of that apology and everything that’s led up to it. Nami takes a moment, finding her resolve enough that she can draw back and look at his face without her expression darkening and contorting to reflect how tangled up inside she’s been in his absence.

“There’s nobody I love for the reasons that I love you.” The urge to wince or blush is strong, but for the time being, Nami is stronger, unwilling to relent to do anything that might make him hesitate or doubt that she means what she says. Being at the resort has allowed them to move forward in a direction neither of them really imagined beyond a passing fantasy on a quiet afternoon, but it’s also let in the bad too—the envy, the shitty compulsion to try and determine which parts of what they share have a place elsewhere with other lovers.

“So let me keep doing that.” Her eyes finally lower, both hands curving over his shoulders, steadying herself as much as she is reaching for him, her voice maddeningly weak to her own ears. “Don’t go.”

( placeholder )

[ placeholder. ]

you are so hot.

( The show of skill and agility in this video excites him nearly as much as the nudes Nami occasionally sends. Zoro quickly gets changed into form-fitting workout clothes, then heads over to the Talon—but not before briefly stopping by the shops to pick up a bouquet of wildflowers, because boyfriends do that on dates, right?

He's been to Talon enough times by now that he doesn't get too lost, just taking a few unnecessary turns that nevertheless get him to the right place. Once he's there, it's easy enough to spot the fiery head of hair of his girlfriend—yeah, he's really getting used to thinking of her as that—and he walks over to her with a little golden retriever grin, greeting her with an earnest kiss on the lips before handing over the flowers. )

These are for you.

( What is she supposed to do with them at the gym? Well he didn't think that far! )

𝐈𝐂 𝐈𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 🦚 𝙶𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝙿𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚘𝚌𝚔

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text ; un: buggytheclown

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short film (tdm prompt) 🖤

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