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sweet-as-an-angel · 5 months

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Giant! König Headcanons

Warnings: 18+, Creep! König, Perverted! König, König Owns a Cum Jar, Size Difference, Giant! König, Size Kink, Sadistic! König, Abuse of Power, Dub-Con, Cum Soaking, Attempts at Forced Impregnation, Implied Pregnancy, Voyeurism, Hostage Situation, Human Pet! Reader, Physical Violence, Human! Reader, Fem! Reader.

Giant! König captures you after he catches you sneaking around his castle, trying to loot something of value to take back to your impoverished village.

Giant! König immediately jumps at the opportunity to take you as his human pet, throwing you into a nearby jar and closing the lid, observing you like a spider beneath a glass.

Giant! König who, after deciding he wants to keep you long-term instead of turning your body into the sprinkles atop his ice cream, creates a more sustainable living space for you after discovering you’re not as durable as he thought (almost suffocating, dehydrating, and starving to death whilst being held in that damn jar).

Giant! König surprises you with a dollhouse of his own design: a door that locks from the outside, windows too small for you to crawl through, and walls made of a material too strong for your tiny utensils to burrow through.

Giant! König doesn’t take long to start using you for his own pleasure – almost like he has no other outlet; like he was just waiting for this opportunity to come.

Giant! König who, whenever he feels like punishing you, puts you in The Jar and stares you down whilst stroking his cock, gigantic even in comparison to other giants’. He grunts, berating you, telling you how he’d “Fill you with my cock if you weren’t so small – bet I could crush you with it if I wanted to.”

When he’s ready, he cums into the jar – all over you – thick and heavy, almost drowning you with just one spurt of his load.

He loves watching you struggle to keep your head above the viscous pool he’s trapped you in as you literally swim in his semen, looking up at him with pleading eyes, begging him to “Get me out, please!”.

He’ll often leave you in there without clothes to try and teach you a lesson. Until it turns into another reason – to breed you – which you accidentally sparked in him when you told him to be careful! You’ll end up getting me pregnant!

Giant! König can’t get your words out of his head, the primal urges he’s suppressed for so long unearthed by your pleas for him to spare you, if only once.

Giant! König knows he’s way too big to fit inside you, so this – cumming profusely into a jar he’s encased you in whilst giving you no means of refusing his attempts – is the next best thing.

Giant! König gets off on the sheer size difference between the two of you – the fact that you’re entirely dependent on him for your survival. Makes him feel like the kind of giant he’s supposed to be; strong and well-seeded.

Giant! König lays awake at night and fantasises about having a family, a far-off dream until you came along. It’s all he can think about as the image of you, his tiny wife, swollen to an almost painful degree as you bear his children, floods his mind, makes his cock twitch – harden. He resists the urge to relieve himself of this burden, preferring to save every ounce of his seed for you rather than wasting even a drop of it.

Giant! König who, despite his…questionable treatment of you, does try to treat you well. He lets you eat as much as you want, both because he knows you come from a poor background and because he has to keep you healthy to bear his offspring — especially since he knows they’ll be quite big compared to you.

Giant! König enjoys questioning you about your life before him, how humans work, what they do all day, whether the stereotypes of them all being lustful, pride-driven, creatures are true.

If you validate any part of this stereotype, he’ll use that as an excuse to sink you in even more of his cum, to subject you to the task of sitting on his cock (horizontally, might I add) while he commands you to get yourself off by humping the shaft.

Man’s had no outlet for basicall all his life – he’s feral.

Giant! König loves to watch you while you’re tucked up in your dollhouse, observing everything you do. Humans are a rarity in the Giant Lands, so to have one in his home is a mythic occurrence.

Giant! König loves showing you off; he thrives on the reaction he gets when his friends see you. You’re, as stated before, a rarity in their parts, often used as a delicacy rather than a pet since humans aren’t particularly sturdy compared to giants, so managing to keep one alive is something of a status symbol in itself; the mark of a truly capable mate (hence captive humans are often given as courting gifts between giants).

However, König is also highly protective of you – especially after he caught Horangi (another giant he’d been showing you off to) goading you – harassing you – stroking his cock, telling you to “Lick the tip. Never felt a human tongue before.”

Needless to say, König never invited him around again after that.

Giant! König is, obviously, good with his hands and technical know-how. Thus, if his method of soaking you in his semen doesn’t work when trying to knock you up, he’ll create some unlawful contraption to make it inevitable.

Despite his size, König has managed to make a tiny glass syringe that he’s packed with his cum, holding you down easily with one hand as he presses the tip to your entrance, pumping you full of his seed.

He struggles to contain how the scene – the feeling – of you trying desperately to fight him off, to stop him from filling you, makes him feel. You have to watch the bulge between his legs grow as the feeling of being filled past full overcome you.

Giant! König does this as many times as he likes until he knows his seed’s taken, when you start showing. Which, considering how big his offspring will be, is pretty early on.

He definitely makes maternity clothes for you – comfortable garments that show the swell of your stomach as the weeks crawl by into months.

Giant! König loves bathing you, too. Especially after he’s covered you in his cum.

There’s something so intimate and gentle about it – a scarcity in the Giant Lands. Having something so small and fragile in his hands, knowing that he can crush you in his grip at any moment, makes him feel…responsible. Trustworthy.

Giant! König will never let you go, btw. You can try to run as much as you want, but he’ll always catch up to you, his human pet.

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rileyslibrary · 10 months

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Ghost rushes to your aid, only this time, it's to help with a pickle jar.

———————————————————————

“C’mere.” He orders, motioning with his hand.

You roll your eyes at him, although a slight grin forms on your lips.

“No!” you retort as you turn your back to him.

He sighs, leans back into the kitchen chair, and crosses his arms in front of his chest. Although he still wears his skull mask, you can imagine a smug expression on his face as he observes your failed attempts at opening that pickle jar.

You wipe your hand on your trousers, then grasp the lid, using your other hand to stabilise the jar. You take a deep breath and hold it in as you squeeze and twist with all your might. But the darn thing doesn’t budge—an oddity since you opened that jar fairly easily yesterday.

“You look like you’re about to fart.”

“Shut up, Ghost.” You snap through gritted teeth.

“What you do clearly doesn’t work,” he states firmly. “Just give me the fucking jar.”

You exhale, relax your grip and shoot him a threatening look.

“No,” you snap again, pointing at him with the jar. “I got this.”

He lifts the fingers that are resting on his bicep and shakes his head.

“It’s too tight, love.”

“It’s not tight,” You reply and knock on the jar’s lid twice. “It’s stuck.”

“Knocking on the bloody lid?” He chuckles softly. “What’s next? Asking the pickles to open up from the inside?”

“Stop making fun of me!”

“I’m not,” he replies softly. “It just needs...”

“-a knife.” You interject.

He follows you with his eyes as you march over to the utensil drawer. You slide it open and pull a knife out.

“That’s a bread knife.” He states.

“So what?” You say, waving the knife, “Bread knives are still knives.”

“That’s not what I mean,” he replies. “There are other ways to open that jar.”

“I’ve tried other ways.”

“You haven’t tried mine.” He murmurs, seemingly unmoved, brushing lint from his thigh.

You roll your eyes again and place the jar on the kitchen counter. Ghost leans further back in his chair to get a better visual of what you’re about to do.

“You’re going to get hurt.” He warns you.

You brush his statement off and focus on the jar. You stabilise it with one hand and put the bread knife between the glass and the lid with the other. You pull on the knife, trying to pry open a small opening. However, the knife loses grip and comes flying dangerously close to your ear.

Ghost pushes the chair with the back of his legs and mutters a sharp “fuckin’ hell” as he rushes towards you.

“You alright?” He asks and grasps your wrist.

“I’m fine,” You reply, defeated.

His hand lets go of your wrist and travels up to your neck. He inspects your ear, making sure you’re not hurt, then grasps your shoulder.

“Why won’t you let me try?” He asks softly.

You sigh, grasp the jar, and slam it on the counter.

“Because you’ll make fun of me just like the others,” you murmur.

“They make fun of you,” He says, pointing at the jar, “for this?”

“For my strength!” You elaborate. “Why do you think this jar is so tight? They’re doing it on purpose, so I ask for their help.”

He chuckles and tightens the grip on your shoulder.

“Nobody is doing that to the lids.” He comforts you. “The refrigerator cools the container and makes the lid shrink.”

You shoot him a threatening side-eye.

“Don’t gaslight me, Lieutenant.”

He throws his head back and sighs.

“Alright, alright,” he concedes, “even if they’re purposely tightening the lids, there’s always a better way to unscrew it than hurting yourself.”

“Let me guess,” you sneer, “the solution is to ask you to do it for me instead?”

“No,” he replies, turning the faucet to the hot water. “If you don’t have the muscle—”

“Hey!”

“If you don’t have the grip,” he corrects himself, “you should use your brain instead. As a matter of fact, you should always use your brain first.”

He removes his glove and puts his hand under the faucet. He takes the jar and places the lid under the tap, allowing the water to run on it for a few seconds. Finally, he turns the faucet off, wipes the cap with a towel, and hands it to you.

“Here,” he says, “try now.”

You take the jar and place your hand on the warm lid. You twist it, and it pops right open. You look at the loosened cap and throw it on the counter.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

“No need to thank me,” he replies softly. “You did it.”

You study his eyes behind his mask; they’re smiling. You extend that pickle jar to him.

“Want a pickle?” You ask and shrug one of your shoulders.

He shakes his head. “You can have ’em,” he says, gesturing towards the door. “I need to start the induction for the recruits.”

You nod as you watch him gather his belongings. He is one of the most ruthless operators on base, and you’ve experienced the violence he is capable of causing on the battlefield. Yet, here he is, offering gentle guidance, advising you to ‘use your brain’ instead of brute force. Not only that, but once he managed to work his way into the jar—clearly twisting the cap with that towel and loosening it—he praised your ‘efforts’, claiming that ‘you did it.’

You take a pickle from the container and put it in your mouth.

How many times has he assisted you behind the scenes, making things easier for you and rushing to your aid, only to later praise your work and efforts, even though he was the orchestrator behind it all? Is that the reason the other soldiers make fun of you?

You take another pickle from the jar and drive it to your mouth, only to stop midway.

The question you’re trying to answer is not how often he acted chivalrous towards you, but...

“Why?” You shout as he walks towards the door, “Why are you being so nice to me?”

He stops and turns to you, gripping the door frame. His eyes still smile, but another emotion is lingering behind them this time. He lifts his hand and points to the side of his head.

“Use your brain,” he replies before returning to the door and leaving the kitchen.

———————————————————————

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weirdworldofwinnie · 7 months

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Happy Halloween!🎃Here's a treat for all you Jonathan Crane lovers out there:

Face Me...

Dr. Jonathan Crane aka Scarecrow x Female Reader (NSFW 18+ only smut)

Summary: You work at Arkham Asylum in Gotham and Dr. Crane has been stalking you for a while, but you are leery of him and have been avoiding him outside of professionalism at all costs. One night though as you are leaving work, he tracks you down at your car to see just what you're so afraid of.

Word Count: ~4,426

Warnings: Semi-rough car sex, non-con elements, forced oral (male receiving), dirty talk/language, slight degradation, hair pulling, slapping, stalker behavior, talk of virginity loss, birth control, Dr. Crane being kind of a creep in general

Note: Reader does not know he is actually Scarecrow! And images above are sourced from Pinterest. This story is based only on Cillian Murphy's version in the Batman films and is my interpretation of the character; I don't own him or any part of the franchise, this is just for fun.

Tonight was swathed in misty sheets of rain in the gritty darkness lightly tainted by the glow of streetlights as your car, parked a few blocks from Arkham Asylum, beeped to unlock and you slung your purse over your shoulder, sighing after a long day and wanting to get home to a hot bath and a drink or two. But a strange feeling in the pit of your stomach at a shadow from your peripheral vision made you hesitate and you squinted through the hazy shower that was tapering off to a light drizzle, dampening your hair.

A suited man, height on the shorter side, was stopped no more than twenty feet away and a jarring jolt rushed to your bones when you saw the street light glint off his narrow framed glasses and you paused, hand on the car door. He was utterly silent and you were unnerved by his stiff posture and oddly clenched fists, half thinking to jump in your four-door-sedan and peel out of his presence, but he then walked forward causally, those hands relaxing and slipping into the pockets of his black slacks.

"Good evening," he called out, stepping into view under a streetlight with a smirk and you clenched your jaw, crossing your arms defensively as he slowly approached, that sick smile never sliding off his features that were - you'd have to admit - frankly handsome... No, beautiful was a better term.

"Why are you stalking me, Dr. Crane?" you asked with edginess to your tired voice. It was late and you didn't even live in Gotham City, you just commuted here for work.

"Stalking? Oh no, I am simply observing," he replied smoothy, but it came off as more snappy and insincere.

"Right... Don't you have somewhere to go?"

"Do you?"

"Yeah, home to my apartment miles away. It's been an exhausting day and too late to be out on the town, so if you're proposing anything, I can't take it tonight."

"It's always a long, late night in Gotham."

He moved within a few feet of you and you swallowed nervously, but remembered a man like him could smell fear, so you put up a brave front.

"So when do you finally fuck off and leave me alone? It's unprofessional to follow someone without their permission, you know. Keep this up and I'll need a restraining order."

"But you always avoid me during work and now you reject my offer for simple company?"

"Company late at night at my car in the rain? And aren't you technically my boss? We aren't friends and I don't know why you're so interested in me, but I don't think you should be. I'm not looking for a man like you. Right now I'm just looking for a nice glass of red wine honestly."

"Really...?" he drew the word out to almost a parodying tone and you pursed your lips.

"Yes, really. Now I bid you goodnight, Dr. Crane." You opened the car door fully, ducking and stepping a foot in when the door caught and you looked up to see him holding it in a firm grip. He was stronger than you expected.

"Stop denying it, I see the way you look at me when you think I'm not paying attention. Stop hiding and face me once and for all," he insisted darkly.

You took a breath, desperately trying to calm your beating heart and yet the horrible feeling that this evening wasn't going to end on a dull note persisted.

"Don't hurt me, I'll-" you started to warn and his eyebrows shot up with a shake of his head.

"Call the police?" It sounded like mockery from his mouth and you scowled as he continued, his pale hand sprinkled with rainwater sliding up and down the car door frame.

"Hurt you, hm? Well, only if you want me to." He chuckled and you stared at his slightly floppy dewey dark hair and raised eyebrows.

"Why the hell would I want you to hurt me?"

"You tell me. I do know you secretly want something else, don't you? Something more... erotic?"

You scoffed angrily, hating how he was worming his way past your exterior and into attraction, but you couldn't let it happen.

"Take a raincheck. I'm going home." You tried to shut the door but he was still holding it in a death grip, knuckles white and veins bursting out the back of his hand.

"Stop fucking around, I don't have time for this sh-" you cut off your sentence with a yelp as Dr. Crane shoved you inside the backseat of your own car and you landed flat on your back as he came inside to hover over your vulnerable body, wetting his pink lips.

"Please! Don't do this!" you cried out of panic and he leaned back, breathing heavily.

"Don't go anywhere," he warned and you struggled to sit up, throwing your purse up front and he slammed the side door shut, getting more comfortable in the backseat, which you were not pleased about.

"This is MY car, get out," you commanded, but he was as cool as a cucumber as he cleaned his glasses with a cloth from his suit jacket.

"I just want to talk one on one, which we never do outside of the usual board meetings and it can be so boring, always about psychiatry and stats and police reports and this patient and these crazies and-"

"Oh sure you just want to talk. I'm not some kind of naive idiot to the desires of the opposite sex," you rolled your eyes and he scoffed, settling back on the seat with a cross of his legs and looking up to the car ceiling.

"It's so cold and wet tonight, shame we aren't someplace more cozy," he muttered and you awkwardly crawled into the driver's seat with your keys and fumbled to insert them in, starting the ignition.

"What are you doing there?" he asked mildly and even that sounded passive aggressive. God, he sure was insufferable.

"Turning the heat on because you're whining about it. I just wish you'd get out of here, completely violating my privacy."

"This is a public street you're parked on, isn't it? And is this how you treat all passengers?"

"I never have any passengers," you remarked bitterly and Crane leaned forward, putting his hands on the back of the seat and peering around to you as you glanced at him in the rearview mirror.

"Indeed. I know you're mostly a loner with almost no friends and orphaned from family or maybe you've lied and they aren't dead and are only estranged... Either way, no one cares and no one understands how you spend office hours in a facility full of the most criminally insane but you do it for the money and to quench your curiosity because deep down, you know - you know you're a freak too who sees no normal in what you have deemed a, oh say... corrupt kind of world."

You swallowed at his assertions and unfortunately fairly accurate reading.

"I don't need sympathy from you of all people," you snapped, putting the heat to full blast. It was freezing tonight and the defrost was battling the condensation filling up the windshield.

"I'm only trying to understand you myself, it's my job to psychoanalyze."

"I'm not one of your patients or experiments," you told him in disgust.

"Every human being is an experiment in the eyes of their creator, which is me for you because I happen to be the one who hired you in the first place. Without me, you would not have a job and therefore I created you in that respect," he replied in absurd smugness.

"Then what am I? Frankenstein's monster?"

His eyes flashed and he adjusted his glasses reflexively.

"I wish. No, you're my first prototype I have yet to diagnose."

You shut the heat off once the internal temperature was fairly toasty and cracked a window down a fraction for circulation. A beat of silence befell until he suddenly climbed into the front, dropping into the passenger seat confidently, and you realized how lithe he was, how easily he fit into spaces not designed for someone with such an overshadowing, all-encompassing ego.

"Now what are you doing?" you asked exasperatedly. He didn't answer and you hated the way looking at him was making your heart flutter despite your anger and the alarm bells ringing in your brain. Something about him was always... very off and you never could quite place your finger on it, he was a blind spot, but it was undeniable. Which was telling considering the people you were exposed to every day.

Crane reached up and removed his glasses entirely with a swipe to set them on the dash and your breath caught with that simple action. You admitted how he was very visually pleasing without those lens obstructing his intense blue colored orbs were. You glanced down and fiddled with the keys when he suddenly snatched them up out of your lap and pocketed them into his own pants with a manic expression.

"Hey, give those back!" you yelled and began to wrestle with him, arms flailing as he held his own above his head, palms up and empty.

"You want those? You have to do something for me first."

"I-Okay, what is it?" You dropped your arms and glared at him suspiciously. He smirked once, speaking with a tremor of excitement.

"If I was civilized, which I'm admittedly not, I'd ask you out on an old fashioned dinner date and then walk you to your door, give you a nice polite kiss and send flowers to your desk on Monday. But I can't wait anymore for that saccharine romantic scenario, so we'll get straight down to business. I want to fuck your brains out, right here in the car."

You blinked, rather stunned.

"I... I-I no, I can't, I mean that's-"

And here was where your confidence utterly failed as he suddenly lunged and grabbed you to pin you down inbetween the passenger and driver seats, head flung upside down almost to the backseat floor and legs helplessly kicking towards the windshield.

"Please, don't do this!" you yelped anxiously.

"Don't tell me you're a virgin who has never had a dick in you before," he whispered, misreading your fearful hesitant expression. Actually, you'd had sex once with a lame boyfriend back in college and since then, avoided the dating and hookup scene, content just to masturbate when you could.

"Oh, fuck, I should've guessed. What a shocking discovery," he wrongly concluded rather sarcastically and you cringed, twisting your head away from his warm breath and ridiculously good looks.

"This makes it all the more interesting, then," he murmured with a feathery caress to your cheek and you flinched, giving him a kick and successfully wriggling out of his grasp to curl up against the door in the backseat.

"I've been waiting a long time for our encounter," he mused, utterly unfazed at the negative reaction.

You immediately went to open the door, ready to run for your life if he became overly threatening, but he hit the button that locked all the doors. You manually unlocked your one door - thank God for that safety feature - but his deadly voice made you freeze.

"Are you quite sure you want to do that?"

"T-This is my ensured vehicle and y-you are violating every right of mine by t-taking over like this," you stated, but your voice was shaking like a leaf through the words.

"That's it, you are afraid of me..." he whispered slowly and the pure delight with pride in his voice was unmistakable. You turned to look at him directly, unable to hide and deny anything any longer.

"I think you are being very inappropriate right now," you admitted nervously.

Crane moved to join you in the backseat, but you felt stuck even though you could technically open the door and make an escape. There was no way he could really stop you, was there? He didn't have a weapon on him, did he?

"If you were really frightened, you would have bolted by now," he said as though reading your thoughts and you gulped, realizing he was right.

"Dr. Crane, I-" you were broken off by him abruptly grabbing your face and kissing you, his tongue sloppily forcing its way into your mouth and you naturally reciprocated while inhaling his sharp stinging scent of expensive cologne. He pulled back with a gasp and a mischievous spark in his eyes that made something awaken deep inside.

"You kissed me," you said in a stunned voice.

"That's precisely what I did, Y/N," he answered with another touch of smugness and you closed your eyes, knowing you were in too deep now. He was going to take this all the way and you felt helpless to stop it. Did you even want to stop him?

"I knew if I exposed myself enough to you, you'd finally stop being immune," Crane told you with a sort of self-righteousness as he ran his hands down your back and shrugged your coat off before moving to your front to remove your blouse carefully, button by button.

"I hate to see such pretty tits contained and so oppressed... Let's free them, shall we?"

He unclasped your bra and removed it, tossing it to the floor and you shivered, goosebumps peppering your bare arms and neck.

"Aww, is it too cold?" He made a pout and privately you wanted to smack those stupid lips right off his condescending face but it was if you were under a spell of a sudden, entranced by his actions and his hypnotic eyes. He trailed his fingers down from your throat to your nipples and you hardened at the stimulation, closing your eyes in regret. Dr. Crane was turning you on, dammit.

"Better than I could imagine..." he breathed, taking in your appearance for a minute while groping your breasts, squeezing, and you gritted your teeth as he teasingly tickled you under your arms, making your breath hitch and a stupid giggle slipped out.

"Sensitive, are we? I promise I won't hurt you."

You leaned back, casting a fretful look out the windows in case of onlookers, but the street was empty and the glass was streaky with rain, creating a thickly translucent rippled covering not unlike a shower curtain.

"No one knows," Crane stated flatly in response to your paranoia while untying his dress shoes and pushing them under the seats. You just nodded, taking off your own and then unzipping your pants the same time he undid his own. His tight dark grey briefs were bulging with his cock and you hesitated, absolutely unsure of what to do when he completely stripped and out popped out his erect glistening-at-the-tip penis in full view.

"Take it in your mouth," Crane ordered abruptly, pushing you down beneath him.

"Um, no I think that's disgus-" Your voice was cut off as you nearly choked; he roughly shoved his cock so fast into your parted mouth. The silky end of his tie tickled your nose as he inched closer, and clearly this was much more enjoyable for him than it was for you as he groaned in building ecstasy and you kept your mouth closed around it, afraid that if you moved, you'd gag or get hurt. He forced your head up a little and bobbed, but you could feel a dribble of precum seeping down your throat and now you reflexed, yanking yourself from him with a loud noise and banging the car door open to cough and spit violently out onto the pavement below.

"Get back in, do you want someone to see us?!" Crane hissed and you felt a sharp tug on your hair as he pulled you back. You shrieked and self defensively twisted to slap him straight in the face. He gasped from the unexpected blow, falling back and banging his head on the opposite window as you spat, wiping your lips of his mess.

"Can't take it like a common whore, can you? Feel like being a goddamn difficult bitch, don't you? Think you're better than me, do you?" he seethed, rubbing his cranium and you huffed.

"I thought you'd just put your dick in me, not that bullshit."

"It's called oral and many women in fact enjoy it."

"How do you know, you've done that before?"

He had a strange expression when he replied briskly.

"I've read up on the concept, you know."

"You've studied about women and sex. Amazing. Is that what you do on your lunch break or...?" you almost laughed, but the way he was staring at you wasn't in a joking manner. He had the look of an inmate one straw away from a full psychotic behavior break down. Basing from your training, you decided to distract his frustrating anger and talk nonchalantly to calm him down.

"Okay, I'm kidding around, I get it, and I don't mean to hate or spite you. Remember when I was initially employed at Arkham, fresh out of college, and I met you for the first time? I personally thought you were extremely cocky and looked waaay too young to be a top psychiatrist in such a grand high security institution. Now I can say with certainty that while you are, um, creative in your methods with the inmates and I do admit I find you very terribly attractive, I have to say Dr. Crane... I still think you're an arrogant son of a bitch."

"Call me Jonathan," he replied, unimpressed by the insult and wrestling off his tie.

"Well, Dr. Jonathan, you sure are a pretty piece of work," you replied with ample attitude and he was fed up, dumping his jacket and shirt from his body and twisting the tie in his fingers. He held it up and a muscle spasmed in face, jaw clenching and enunciating his cheekbones.

"You want me to choke you with this?"

"I'd really prefer you didn't and it would be very nice if you weren't such a dick forcing your sex on me," you answered matter-of-factly.

"Lie down or I'll fucking fire you from your position, understand?" he snapped loudly and was extremely serious as you glared, but then reluctantly laid back obediently on the seats just to avoid complications and he came down swiftly, carefully aligning to position his penis at your entrance. He cautiously touched the moist head to your vaginal lips when you held up a hand onto his chest, stopping him.

"Now hang on doctor, don't you want to warm up first?"

"I'm obviously already warmed up, Miss Y/LN."

"But I don't have lubricant on me, so you're going to have to get me naturally very wet for penetration because right now I'm dry as a bone," you warned for your own protection, but hardly expected him to listen.

"Don't tell me how to do it," he replied, snippy.

"I'm serious, you can't just stick it in there; it will be just as hard for you as it'll be for me and I don't want to end up seeing a gynecologist."

"So you aren't a virgin after all?"

"I had my hymen broken with a loser in the past," you told him and he raised one brown eyebrow, creasing his forehead with a few fine lines.

"Then how should I start, Miss doctor?"

You wordlessly took a hold of his index finger and guided it to your opening and he pressed lightly, feeling pooling liquid.

"You little liar, you're already discharging," he whispered disapprovingly and he massaged your clit in slow jerky rhythm. You nodded in approval, losing your control as he slipped a finger in and moved around enough to make you clench a bit, trapping his digit.

"How does that feel?" he asked almost clinically and you closed your eyes, urging him to put in another finger. He did and you almost orgasmed when he extracted much too soon, sighing.

"This isn't much fun for me," he whined and you made a face, shifting position to spread your legs wider, putting your arms up and accidentally smearing the fogged window with your fingertips. You looked utterly submissive, practically begging to be fucked, to get it over with (so you convinced yourself).

But for all his aggression to trap you in your own car for penetrative sex, Jonathan was now becoming oddly timid as he hesitantly closed the gap between you, realigning his bare body to yours.

"Wait, have you done this before?" you asked suspiciously and he was sheepish in answering.

"I told you, you are my first prototype."

"Shit, you're the virgin here?!" You laughed as though this made this experience any less stressful or partially contrived.

"Do you masturbate?" you then asked and he rolled his eyes.

"What kind of man of do you think I am?"

"Is that yes or no?"

"Doesn't matter, Y/N. Now, let me ask you a more important question: are you on birth control of any type?"

"I..." you hesitated to answer because if you told him 'no' would he go any further? You had pills at home as a precaution, but neglected to ever take them, assuming you'd be remaining single. But you had no intention of getting into a full relationship and certainly not being impregnated by this man.

"I left them at home," you finally answered truthfully.

"I have something for that then," he assured and you stared as he leaned back and rummaged in the pockets of his clothes on the floor. He produced a tiny pill container and dropped a pill into your open palm. You didn't ask why he was carrying around birth control pills, but assumed he had indeed been planning this for a while.

"Don't want any unnecessary side effects of something that I'll have to end up terminating anyway," he muttered bitterly as you popped it in and climbed into the driver's seat to swig some water from your plastic bottle in the cupholder, feeling grateful that at least he didn't administer that Fear Toxin he was always messing around with in the asylum.

"Now can we get started?" Jonathan asked impatiently and you took a breath, easing the front seat down so you were lying parallel to him. Jonathan clamored on top of your naked flesh and straddled you, his cock rubbing up against your thighs, then vaginal area and you squirmed, clutching onto his back. He pushed in gradually, but densely, and you whimpered at the stinging pain and then the growing pleasure bubbling around his cock within your walls and you clenched hard, much harder than you had with his fingers.

"Oh... Fuck, Jonathan..." you groaned and he bounced up and down lightly, thrusting with slaps of skin and you felt your bottom sticking with sweat to the leather seat as he kept at it for several minutes, gripping your hips and nearly plowing you apart. It hurt, no getting around it, and he wasn't privy to what you were feeling as he seemed entirely in his own zone, racing for his pleasure until you moaned loud enough to cause him glance down, realizing you were getting close to free falling off the edge.

"C'mon, you're so close with that pretty little pussy of yours, almost..." Jonathan breathed in your ear and as he hit the spot, finally the climaxing orgasm came with a bang and it was so intense, probably fueled by adrenaline and stress more than actual love, that you emitted a high pitched shrieking whine which trailed into a low moan of relief while it tapered off and he grunted, somehow thrusting even further. Yes, you had minimal experience, but had never ever been penetrated this far before and you dreaded how much longer he could rail you, but thankfully his own orgasm came with a grunting groan as he spilled into you and you held on, digging nails into his shoulder blades and nearly biting his neck. He panted heavily in your ear and his tickle of breath made your stomach flip.

He laid still on top of you for awhile, cock twitching and warming your insides. The windows were fogged up completely and the cold was now non-existent with the heat you and him were creating out of friction alone.

"You enjoy yourself?" you whispered hoarsely to Jonathan as his breathing slowed sluggishly and he looked like he was falling asleep, so you shoved him off your aching body and he blinked, rubbing his forehead.

"Yeah, that was satisfactory. Maybe I should bump up your paycheck."

"I'm not a prostitute, but thank you."

He smiled lazily, eyes rather unfocused, and you pulled your seat up with the lever, reaching for his glasses on the dash and handing them back to him. He, in turn, retrieved the car keys from his pants and tossed them back to you with a clanging jingle.

Casting a look around your car, there were streaky handprints on the fogged glass, thin swipes of fingers and imprinted palms decorating the back windows and you reached over to one and drew a heart outline in a patch of blank space. Jonathan's own finger speared through it, making a arrow.

"Very romantic," you commented sarcastically and moved to join him in the backseat as he started to draw a creepy face reminiscent of a familiar spooky icon (a clown? Maybe a scarecrow?) when he stopped and checked his watch.

"I need to go," Jonathan coldly stated out of the blue and began to hastily gather up his clothing, awkwardly dressing before he stepped outside and zipped up his pants, and inhaled the late October city air, somewhat out of breath. The rain had stopped and the skies were clearing, the full pearly white moon slicing through the curtain of storm clouds, and you drew your blouse around yourself with a shiver before sliding into underwear, realizing you'd never look at Dr. Crane the same since this intimately raw experience.

"So I'll be seeing you around tomorrow...?" you wondered aloud and although you meant for that to be purely work related, he clearly took it the other direction.

"Oh, I'll be seeing you." He smirked knowingly and then slammed the car door closed in your face, leaving you sore and to reel from whatever the hell this twisted specimen of a man just put you through. Did you like it?

Maybe.

Thanks for reading 🖤 First time writing for Jonathan Crane, so I hope this was halfway decent!

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baahsu · 3 months

Text

That marimo op clip got me thinking about a zosan scenario

What if they dock on an island and everyone scrambles off the ship to do their own thing

Sanji returns later in the day after finishing buying groceries and restocking the supplies and finds a moss ball on the deck

He cocks his head to the side, curiously observing the creature, and an idea pops into his head

He'll take care of this moss ball, put it into a jar and make sure its living its best life. Then, when zoro comes back, he can show it to him and say he's found his long lost cousin

Days pass by and the moss ball has taken residency on a side table next to sanji's bunk bed. Sanji talks to it everyday, before going to sleep and when he wakes up, also during his breaks from cooking, to make sure it's doing ok

And the little marimo is thriving! Its green is becoming more vibrant each day and it seems like it's grown a little too! Sanji's really proud of it and tell it as much, cooing that "you're the best and cutest marimo around, oh yes you are!"

The creature also becomes sanji's confidant

Sanji tells it about his cooking, about what he expects from their next adventures, and about the feelings he's been harboring for a certain human marimo

He talks about how infuriating zoro is and how the little marimo is definitely cuter than him. And ok, sure, he can reluctantly admit zoro's not bad looking. He's actually really good looking and really strong and reliable and secretly a softie inside, and it's really hard to keep his feelings at bay when he's around

The more he talks about zoro the more he misses him (because he wants to tease him about the moss ball, of course) and realizes he's not back to the ship yet. They're about to set sail and the swordsman's nowhere to be found

Sanji huffs. Zoro got lost again, how surprising. He shakes his head fondly and tells the little marimo he'll be right back, he needs to go look for the bigger marimo

His search is fruitless, though. He spends hours walking around the island but the sun's already setting and he needs to go back to work on dinner for the crew

He walks into the men's bunk room to change clothes and is startled to find the glass jar he was keeping the marimo all shattered on the floor. There's a pit forming in his stomach and he gets on his knees to look for the little green ball

In the middle of his frantic search a voice reaches his ears coming from the direction of the door, "So I'm the best marimo around, huh? And a good looking one too?"

Sanji gets up and turns around so fast he almost loses his balance, but he takes a hold of himself and stares at a smirking zoro with fury in his eyes and a deep shade of red covering his cheeks, "You stupid piece of moss, it was you the whole time??"

When zoro doesn't respond, only smirking wider, sanji goes after him with his leg lighting on fire, ready to make him forget all the embarrassing things he's told him the past week

But he doesn't go far on his revenge, zoro ducks to the side and surprises him by taking him into his arms in a tight hug

"Thank you for looking after me", the swordsman whispers

Zoro pulls back after a few seconds so he can stare into sanji's eyes. He sees how the cook shivers slightly and how his mouth parts, and can't resist covering it with his own lips

Zoro kisses sanji softly and feels him slowly melting into his arms, the cook's fingers hesitantly coming up to play with the hairs at the nape of his neck

Zoro smiles into the kiss and silently thanks the weird drunk he met at a bar that used his devil fruit powers on him

#zosan #one piece #sanji #zoro #one piece headcanons #zosan headcanons #roronoa zoro

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 3 months

Note

Congratulations on 5k

Could you do 6 and 16 for Orm if he's not allowed Steve.

.⋆｡Dosage｡⋆.

Orm Marius x plus size reader

You get stuck babysitting the Ocean Master, you should’ve guessed that he would stir up some trouble

Warnings: sex pollen so little bit of dub-con, mention of tranquilisers and death, Batman not being helpful, swearing, no smut but nudity and implied smut

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

5k Follower Celebration

You wondered what you did to warrant this terrible punishment. The lab was silent, your music having been forcefully turned off by your employer an hour before and you were pinned to your seat by the icy blue eyes of your charge.

Babysitting, that’s what you had been reduced to. It’s not like your three PHDs could be put to better use than making sure Arthur’s brother didn’t wander off and get himself into trouble. You rationalised that you could deal with it fine as long as he kept his mouth shut and his hands to himself but evidently the ex King of Atlantis had a serious staring problem and it was so much more distracting than if he had been chatting your ear off.

Sighing heavily, your head dropped between your shoulders and you pulled your glasses off your nose. “Do you really have to stare at me the whole time like some kind of fucking vouyer?” Orm huffed, finally looking away and giving you a chance to observe the Atlantian.

There was no doubt that he was beautiful, with a chilled jaw, perfect skin, fluffy blond hair and a body that would rival Michelangelo’s David but as soon as he opened his mouth, all that beauty melted away. He was arrogant and entitled and for some damn reason he refused to let you work in peace.

“You should be honoured to be in my presence human.” Your eye twitched in annoyance. Breathe Y/N, breathe. You told yourself. You crossed your legs and shot Orm a look that would’ve had Batman shaking in his boots.

“Just- find something else to do and let me work, please.” He raised a dark brow at you but nodded anyway. His muscles rippled beneath the compression shirt he had been given upon his arrival to the tower. You forced yourself to look away and back to your work. “All I need is an hour and then we can find something productive for you to do.”

He hummed noncommittally, which you were perfectly fine with.

The lab settled into a blissful silence and you were finally, thankfully, able to really plug into the data analysis that you had been putting off. Occasionally, you could see the disgraced prince out of the corner of your eye as he wandered around the lab, his hands clasped behind his back. He could follow directions well, you would give him that.

You didn’t mind the company, now that he was not staring at you like a fucking creep, in fact he was quite comforting considering you spent most days in complete isolation save for when Batman needed yet another project completed.

Just as you were reaching the final compiling, Orm’s voice rang through the lab as if he were commanding his people. “What the fuck is sex pollen?” Your entire body seized with fear and as you turned your chair to face him, time slowed.

His large hand had turned one of the many labelled specimen jars in the open cabinet at the other end of the lab, the cabinet that you had forgotten to lock when Bruce had barged in earlier. Your eyes widened almost comically as the delicate jar tipped and the neon pink dust gathered to one side. Orm tried to grab the sealed beaker but the glass was already rolling off the shelf.

Your hand was already moving towards the contamination shut down as the container met the solid ground, shattering immediately.

The pollen exploded outwards, coating everything within 2 metres of the impact point in a bright pink dust. Orm coughed and tried to wipe it from his skin, but the pollen was already soaking in, quickly making its way into his bloodstream.

The lab doors slammed shut and the industrial strength locks clicked into place. You yanked a medical mask from your workstation and quickly tugged it on as you rushed towards Orm, whose face was now flushed. His chest was already heaving with laboured breaths and as you drew closer, you could see the sweat collecting on his brow.

“Hey, I need you to listen to me very carefully right now.” His gaze snapped to you and you held up your hands to show that you weren’t a threat. “We can fix this, we just have to work together. Understand?” He nodded his head and you sighed in relief.

“I need you to strip off your clothes, the longer you’re in them, the more pollen you’ll ingest. And then I’m putting you in the decontamination shower until I figure out how this is going to fuck with your fishy DNA.” You expected some fight out of the prince but he followed your directions to the letter, his eyes staring intently into your own.

You were thankful for your mask concealing your face as he pulled off his shirt, exposing the toned muscles of his stomach. You swallowed thickly, heat defiantly pooling between your thighs as his thumbs hooked into the waistband of his sweatpants and yanked them down. Evidently, Atlantians didn’t wear underwear. He leaned closer to you, his nostrils flaring.

Orm’s eyelids fluttered as he let out the most erotic groan you had ever heard. “Fuck, why do you smell so fucking good?” You hated to admit it, but your knees buckled at that. Swallowing down the whine that threatened to spill from your lips, you pulled yourself together.

“O-okay now, into the shower.” You nodded your head towards the stall in the corner of the lab but Orm remained still. His breathing was quickening and his pupils were blown, leaving only a sliver of blue around the black. You stepped in that direction but still, he refused to follow.

“Goddamnit.” You muttered and grabbed his muscular shoulder, forcefully yanking him to the stall and quickly shoving him inside before he had a chance to refuse. You locked the door, knowing that there was no possible way for him to drown himself, and started the auto decontamination.

As soon as he lost sight of you, Orm gave a shout of protest and slammed his fists against the door. “No! Come back!” The glass trembled with the force of his blows and if it weren’t for Bruce’s tendency to make everything strong enough to hold Clark back for a minute at least, you would have been scared of it shattering.

You carefully walked backwards to your desk, your eyes locked onto the shower which was now running but it was doing nothing to hinder the man inside. In fact, his efforts to get out doubled as the water hit his overheated skin. “You’re mine!” He screamed and a crack appeared in the glass.

You snatched up the phone that directly connected you to Bruce, pressing it to your ear as you continued to back up. As soon as you heard his gruff voice, you shouted at him. “Orm ingested that sex pollen shit from Ivy, what the fuck do I do?”

There was a pause and for a second you thought the line had dropped. Then he sighed heavily into the receiver. “Fuck. The antidote you developed won’t work on him since he doesn’t have any human DNA and his body won’t burn out the pollen fast enough before his system overheats.” Silence settled between you as the solution dawned on both of you at the same time. “So-“

“So I’ll have to help him through it or he dies.” You finished his thought for him.

“I’m sorry kid.” Then the call cut off. Orm threw his body at the door and another crack appeared. You had a choice here, there was a tranquiliser in the drawer of your desk that could put down Flash, you could wait for the door to shatter and use it against the raging prince. Or…

Your mask dropped to the floor, along with your shirt and pants. His shouts had now devolved into unintelligible growls that only served to make your inner thighs even wetter. By the time you reached the shower, the frosted glass now resembled a spider’s web and you were completely bare.

You hit the override switch to the side of the stall and the screaming stopped. The damaged tracks groaned as the door slowly opened, revealing you to Orm once more. “Take what you need, I only want to help.”

The air was knocked from your lungs as strong arms grabbed you and pulled you into the shower with him. Cold water washed over your naked body though it did nothing to lessen the fire between you. A moan was forced from your lips as Orm ducked down and buried his nose in the crook of your throat, pressing his hard body to your soft one.

His chest rumbled happily as he inhaled. “I will not be gentle, I cannot. But once this curse has passed, I will treat you like a goddess, a queen.” His tongue licked up the column of your neck until he could rise to his full height once more. “You will experience pleasure like never before, my claim will be laid upon you.”

And you could only nod as his large warm hand gripped your knee tightly, bringing your plump leg up to wrap around his lean hips. “Prepare yourself for your king.”

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soupbabe · 4 months

Note

Could i request La Squadra reacting to their s/o, also part of the team, being super affectionate and loving while drunk? Like they're generally stoic with the hitman temperament, but still soft with them

Pls and ty!

Drunken Affection with La Squadra

- I feel as if there's two main groups these men fall under: there are those who love it and those who are deeply concerned

- Formaggio, Melone, Pesci, Prosciutto love to see you so clingy and lovey dovey!!

- It's no secret that the first two listed are also clingy and like to see it reciprocated

- Formaggio and Melone love to take as many pictures and videos as they can so they can tease you for it later, especially if you don't remember much of the night before

- They absolutely revel in it, all the times you pushed them off your lap means nothing to them if you're the one climbing into his for one night only

- Pesci and Prosciutto are just as happy about it, but it takes them a while to fully lean into your sudden shift in personality

- For Pesci it makes him nervous. He's never been composed when it comes to affection, he has to have a couple of drinks himself to build up some confidence

- Prosciutto just has trouble letting himself let loose and embrace your bubbly nature

- Illuso, Ghiaccio, and Risotto are a lot more wary of your behavior

- Seeing you so drunk immediately makes Ghiaccio and Risotto concerned, seeing this new side of you is, and I mean this in the best way, unnerving.

- If you're out at a bar or in public, it is their sign to take you home and help you sober up

- They can't deny it's a bit funny and you'll still manage to fluster them, but their first concern is making sure you're actually okay

- Illuso is still concerned, he isn't the most outwardly affectionate and prefers a partner just like him, but he's a lot slower to react

- Unless you're trying to make friends with some strangers, he will sit back and observe the drunk version of you.

- If he could he'd put you in a glass jar and watch you. He can't deny it's amusing.

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba x reader #la squadra #la squadra x reader #jjba formaggio #formaggio x reader #illuso #illuso x reader #proscuitto jojo #prosciutto x reader #jjba pesci #pesci x reader #jjba melone #melone x reader #jjba ghiaccio #ghiaccio x reader #risotto nero #risotto nero x reader

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catladyoftheyr · 2 months

Text

Too Sweet (Ch 3)

Harvey x Reader

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 4

Summary: picking up off last chapters cliffhanger and diving straight into Harvey’s 4 heart event. You resolve the conflict after the incident with George, Harvey gives you a checkup, and you two share a jar of pickles in his apartment. 💘🥒

Authors note: I know nothing about the Air Force I’m so sorry. It’s just for the plot and vibes. He needed a backstory!!

Word count: 1.7k! A longer chapter as a treat

“Harvey! Oh my god why are you here? Wait, no, I don’t mean it like that” the surprise visit from the doctor had you stumbling over your words. “You scared me. And I don’t actually think your mustache is stupid. I just… I was really embarrassed about what happened earlier.”

“I actually stopped by to thank you for backing me up earlier. George can be stubborn, so I’m glad you got him to listen to you.” The doctor averted eye contact and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“Oh uhhh, sure. How much of what I said did you hear by the way?” You hoped silently that he hadn’t heard you call him cute, especially since you’d been talking to a chicken.Harvey slid down and sat next to you on the floor of the coop.

“Just the part where you insulted my mustache,” he replied, stroking his own facial hair. “The farm is coming along nicely. You must be very dedicated to make such a turn around in such a short time.”

Oh thank Yoba you thought to yourself. “Thank you. I guess I’m trying to make up for lost time; I want to honor Grandpa’s memory because he loved this farm and the community. I used to spend a couple weeks here in the summer when I was growing up. I haven’t been back to the valley since I was a teenager. I didn’t think Lewis would recognize me when I came back.” You laughed quietly, an image of you as a gawky adolescent with braces coming back to you

“About earlier, we can put that behind us if you’d like. I didn’t mean to be short with you either. I was startled so I apologize for being curt.” Harvey looked at you with a kind expression before rising from the floor. “I’d like for us to be on good terms going forward.” He extended his hand and helped you up.

———————————————————————————

The bell on the door chimed as you walked in and Harvey’s head poked up from his paperwork. “Hey! Just the person I wanted to see today actually.”

“Oh?”

“I was about to write you a letter recommending that you schedule your annual checkup. If you don’t mind, I’ve got time today actually for a cursory exam.” Truthfully you weren’t very fond of hospitals, or doctor’s appointments. But you were also a terrible liar and had no time to think of an excuse. Better just to get it over with, you supposed.

“I can make it work.” You set the jar of pickles aside temporarily and followed Harvey to an exam room. You sat down on the paper, uncomfortable with the sudden formal shift in your dynamic. You’d gone from friend to patient in a matter of minutes. Harvey placed his stethoscope just under the collar of your shirt and you flinched at the touch of the cold metal.

“Sorry it’s chilly,” Harvey said. “Your heart rate is a little high. Do hospitals make you nervous?” He asked with a slight furrow in his brow.

“A little bit” you admitted. It certainly didn’t help that this was the most physical contact the two of you had shared since you met. He placed his hand on your shoulder and your eyes met. You felt your palms start sweating.

“Take a deep breath for me please” you did as instructed and tried to focus on anything else but the feeling of his hand on you. “Your lungs sound strong.” Harvey was in his element as he checked off the boxes of a routine checkup. He tested your reflexes, examined your ears and eyes, writing down his observations on his clipboard. “So far you seem to be in good health. I just have a few more questions about your lifestyle”

“Ask away, Doc.” Harvey seemed slightly flustered at the nickname but made a quick recovery. He pushed his glasses back up his nose and stood up straighter, clearing his throat

“As I was saying. Working on the farm involves a fair amount of physical labor I assume, so I’m sure you get enough exercise. What do you usually eat in a day?”

“Oh I usually just eat the foragables I find around the valley. There’s a lot of leeks and wild onions out now. I saw a weird looking berry the other day and I ate a couple of those. Sometimes I eat eggs from the chickens, or buy something from Gus for dinner.” Harvey was visibly stressed as he absorbed the information you gave him.

“I would highly advise that you eat a more balanced diet. Foraging is fine as a snack but it won’t provide enough energy for your activity levels. Eggs are good, but I’d implore you to try and eat from all the food groups”

“So this probably isn’t a great time to say I also eat the algae I find in the mines?” You’d never seen the poor doctor so stressed; you imagined most of his patients weren’t quite as odd as you.

“Let’s move on. How much sleep do you get at night?”

“6ish, sometimes less, sometimes more”

“Well, 8 hours a night is recommended but 6 isn’t terrible I suppose. But I’d encourage you to try and find a healthier routine. Farming is labor intensive and if you don’t give your body the care it needs you won’t be able to keep up sooner or later.” He had a look of genuine worry in his eyes and it pulled at your heartstrings. You’d only known each other for several months, but you sensed the beginning of a deep connection.

“I’ll try to be better,” you replied softly. You weren’t used to being chastised, but you understood he meant well.

“Thank you. You’re free to go and have an official clean bill of health from me”

“Well I stopped by to ask a favor actually”

“Oh?”

“I was wondering if you’d do me the honors of being the very first taste tester of my first batch of farm fresh pickles” you grinned and gestured toward the door “I left them on the counter.” Harvey smiled back and held the door open for you.

“I’d be honored. I’m actually about to close up for the day, would you like to come upstairs?”

The two of you headed upstairs to the small apartment above the clinic. Furniture was sparse and well loved, and there was a small kitchenette off the main room. The back wall held a large bookshelf that boasted an assortment of books and some small trinkets. Another shelf was lined carefully with model planes. There was a radio station in the corner by the window. “It’s not much, but it’s home,” Harvey said sheepishly.

“It’s great” you replied, eyes scanning the room with eagerness. You were itching to learn more about him. You took a seat on his small sofa, your heart nearly skipping a beat when he sat next to you, his knee inches away from yours. “You can have the first one” you offered, extending the open pickle jar toward Harvey.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Harvey reached in and plucked out a particularly large pickle before biting into it. His eyes lit up as he tasted it. “This is delicious! You’ve really never made pickles before?” You shook your head. “Well you certainly have a knack for it.” You grabbed a pickle for yourself and were pleasantly surprised at how good they were. You were glad he wasn’t lying to spare your feelings.

“What’s with the planes?” You saw Harvey get a far off look on his face while he thought about his response

“I’ve always been fascinated by aviation. I did a stint in the Air Force years ago. I wanted to become a pilot but it didn’t pan out. It ended up paying for my med school tuition though. The model planes are something I like to do in my free time. I find them relaxing, and they remind me of my time in service.”

“I would have never guessed that. Pilots and doctors are pretty different. What led you down this path?”

“I think I’ve always had an affinity for helping people. I joined the Air Force to serve my country; this feels like a way to serve the community in a different way.”

“That’s actually really selfless.” You toyed with images of Harvey in uniform as you reached for another pickle, not realizing that Harvey had the same idea. Your hands met in the rim of the jar and you flinched back instinctively. The small touch left you wanting more. You adjusted your legs slightly, tentatively letting one fall against his. Harvey made no effort to break contact.

“Tell me more about yourself. You said you explore the mines. Are there really monsters in there?”

“There are! I haven’t made it down very far but there’s all kinds of creatures down there.” You animatedly described the things you’d encountered on your adventures: colorful slimes, stealthy rock crabs, large buzzing insects, agile bats and more. Harvey looked on with a mixture of awe and fear.

His voice grew soft as he spoke “please be careful in the mines. I’d hate to see you get hurt.” Suddenly it was as if a switch had gone off in his mind and he got up from the couch. “Wait here one second!” He bolted across the studio and down the stairs. You heard rummaging from below before Harvey emerged again holding an armful of various medicines and first aid supplies. “Take these.” He thrusted the bundle of supplies into your arms.

“Harvey I can’t just take these from you. These are expensive” you insisted, trying to hand them back to him. A roll of gauze unraveled on the floor. Harvey plucked it from the ground and placed it on a table.

“Nonsense. Consider it part of your checkup.” He looked you in the eyes with a pleading expression. “Please take them. And promise me you’ll keep them with you in the mines”

“I promise.”

#my writing #harvey fluff #harvey x farmer #sdv fanfic #stardew fanfiction #stardew valley fanfic #harvey stardew valley #stardew valley fanfiction #harvey x reader

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anystalker707 · 1 year

Text

It's not going anywhere [1/2]

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x [gender neutral] Reader Words: ~ 3 300 Summary: You were a slave to the Celestial Dragons, saved by Zoro, who decided to make you part of the crew and help you adjust to the new life. Tags: Loving Zoro / Very boyfriend content / Fluffy ending <3

Requested by anon "I want to request Zoro x Male reader. Male reader was a slave (...)"

MASTERLIST

It was weird, to be honest. Not uncomfortable, but curious and unsettling. You had spent so long serving those stupid Celestial Dragons that you had forgotten what living was actually like, which sometimes made you feel angry knowing how much time you’d lost. It was no use being angry now, though. Not with having found a new family. There was no need to waste more time.

A sigh escaped your lips as you observed the deck below and the vast sea, sitting on the wide seat along the walls of the Crow’s Nest. It was a sunny day, with the sunlight reflecting on the sea water and making the weather a little humid. Nami had promised you would stop at an island to enjoy the weather if you had the opportunity, but Luffy, Chopper, Usopp and Frank just put together a pool on the deck to have fun either way. Sanji prepared some cold drinks he had delivered around and didn’t fail on coming to the Crow’s Nest to deliver some to you while throwing rude words at Zoro. It was funny.

The thought of the crew made you smile. They didn’t look down on you or act as if you didn’t exist.

A groan and a slamming sound made you look away to see Zoro breathe heavily, with his hands on his waist and looking down at the barbell. “You can go down there, you know,” he said breathlessly. “It’s not like you’re stuck here or anyone will yell at you.”

“I know.” You smiled a little. Zoro was just one man, a single person, that could take all the guards and the Celestial Dragon by himself—you weren’t sure if it was just to save you, but he did so either way and you were happy he had taken you with him. He’d never answer why, though, but no one else complained. “I just like being here with you.”

Zoro raised an eyebrow at you, but clicked his tongue with a smile, shaking his head. “Won’t you drink more?” He pointed to the tray that Sanji had left on the ground. The jar was halfway filled and ice cubes still floated in it.

“I...”

“You can have all you want.” He sighed and moved over to serve himself some of the juice, also making a motion to offer to serve more for you, but you walk over there and serve it yourself.

Whatever Sanji put in it, it was so good! You tried not to drink it all at once, but, fuck, it had been forever since you were able to eat and drink things that tasted decently and weren’t spoiled! It was almost impossible getting enough of it and—

“Oi!” Zoro said and then you could feel a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you back a little. “It’s not going anywhere! No need to rush!” The sudden voice made you inhale and start choking, so he immediately took the cup away from your hands and patted your back a little. “Damn, I—”

With a gasp, you immediately bowed down, pressing your eyes shut to be ready for a slap or something. “S—Sorry, sir—”

A hand on your shoulder brought you up again immediately. “I told you you don’t need any of that bullshit here.” Zoro handed you your glass again and grabbed the jar to serve you more juice. “It’s just... You don’t need to eat and drink so fast. It’ll give you a stomachache or something at some point and that’s not gonna be good.” His gaze didn’t meet yours the whole time, and his face was a little flushed while sweat still trickled down his skin, but you couldn’t observe for a lot longer; he clicked his tongue and you looked down to see some of the drink spilled down on the ground.

Only having one functional eye did have him struggling with the notion of depth when it was not regarding fights. You gently placed a hand over his wrist to guide the jar over the glass properly. His skin was warm. It was almost disappointing to let go so he could put the jar away.

“Thank you,” you whispered, refraining yourself from saying or doing anything wrong again. Talking without all those honorifics was hard. So was not cleaning and serving everyone else. Your hands trembled a little as you watched Zoro drag closer the cloth he used to clean the sweat away from the ground to clean the drink he had spilled. You could tell he knew; he knew what you worried about and what you held yourself back from doing, but still, he just smiled when your gazes met.

“Be careful this time.”

Zoro continued training for most of the day while you sat there. Calm days without needing to get up all the time felt like a blessing. The way you didn’t have rags as clothes nor did your muscles hurt all the time. No bruises or scratches covered your body anymore. Sometimes you would catch yourself touching your neck out of habit and the fact there was no collar anymore made you so happy; something stirred in your chest and you wanted to do everything, run, jump, hug everyone. Or just be. It was so peaceful to just sit there and observe the others, too.

Zoro was a quiet person, so it was peaceful to be around him, but it was easy to find someone else to have a nice talk with whenever you were in the mood. Chopper, Franky, Usopp, Brook and Luffy were really funny while Nami would talk to you about good islands to visit. Robin once in a while would tell you about her research while Sanji would talk about simply anything if you showed up to keep him company as he cooked. Being a taste tester for him was great.

No matter what, Zoro ended up being your favorite person to spend time with, easily. Either for the fact he had saved you or the way he treated you, it was very enjoyable to even just sit there with him in the Crow’s Nest while he just worked out or napped. He encouraged you to try working out with him once, but... it wasn’t a good idea, at least not yet.

“I think lunch is ready, Zoro.” You mumble, faintly hearing Sanji shout at Luffy, most likely to wait for everyone else. It was a routine, apparently.

“Oh?” Zoro dropped his weights again with a sigh. “Well then, let’s eat.”

Not everyone was at the kitchen yet when you got there, but Sanji was already finishing setting the pots at the table and the food smelled good as always. Chopper, Usopp, Luffy and Franky were already there as you’d heard earlier, and Nami sat at the counter, clearly not wanting to get involved in their messy fight over stopping Luffy from eating just yet.

Their loud banter had you a little intimidated, afraid anyone would accidentally elbow or kick you, but you quickly rushed forward seeing Zoro already taking a seat. You were about to sit down next to him when Usopp sat there instead, too caught up in laughing with Luffy to notice. Hell, what were you supposed to do now? Would he be annoyed if you asked him to sit there? For sure. You didn’t want any of them to dislike you or—

“Idiot!” Zoro clicked his tongue and hit Usopp on the head. “(Y/n) sits there! Haven’t you learned that?”

Usopp gasped, face falling as he held the bump on his head and stood up from the seat. “Sorry, (y/n)-chan.” He said with a faltering voice, bowing a little, but he quickly went back to normal once he noticed the rest laughing at him.

You suppressed a chuckle by smiling, and finally sat down next to Zoro, nodding in a silent ‘thank you’.

“Today I prepared some special meals!” Sanji set a pot on the free space on the table with a smile. “It’s not everyday that I prepare those dishes, so enjoy. Don’t forget to save some space for the dessert either! I’m sure you’ll love what I prepared with the fruits we got from the last island!”

“Really? Thanks so much, Sanji!” You smile wide, already excited to start eating. Sanji prepared food that was way better than whatever you could manage to snatch from the Celestial Dragons’ feast. And the best part was that you could eat all you want.

Sanji chuckled and patted your shoulder lightly before he walked away once again to come back with the drinks this time, but not without kicking Luffy on his way and telling Franky to go call Brook and Robin. Waiting patiently was an easy task, though, giving all the time you spent standing next to tables watching the others feast.

You sighed, driving your eyes away from the food to watch Zoro picking at his hand. He must've sensed your gaze, raising an eyebrow at you then following your gaze to his hands.

“Calluses.” Zoro justified, showing his palm; you brought it closer to inspect. It had calluses both from the weight lifting and handling his swords. Your hands had calluses from the forced, harsh word. The sight of it made him frown a little, but you smiled as if to silently tell him not to worry.

His hand was big compared to yours. You pressed your palm to his, just observing how bigger his hand was, then you held it to turn it over. The back of his hand had scars, but they were white lines hard to see if you didn’t pay any attention, along his knuckles and fingers, and... His touch was also very warm. Not a lot of people touched you gently and even fewer made you feel that way, like something was bubbling in your chest. You blinked and looked at Zoro, but he also looked at your hands, with his cheeks flushed. Unfortunately, there was no time to question him about anything because Luffy startled everyone by shouting about food the moment the whole crew gathered.

“Want me to put some food for you?” Zoro asked, but you shook your head and did it itself.

Everything was so new. You had no idea how, but Sanji always managed to make the best stuff ever and it was hard to hold yourself back from eating almost like Luffy did, just unable to keep up with his speed, but you just wanted more and more.

“Oi! What did I tell you?” Zoro held onto the back of your neck again. “It’s not running away!”

You immediately took a pause, swallowing the food you already had in your mouth to look at Zoro with pleading eyes, but all he did was to roll his eyes.

“If you get a stomachache...” He said in a warning tone, going back to eat.

Instead of just shoving it all in your mouth, you instead started to eat it slowly, which was difficult at first, but you slowly got used to it, taking a moment to enjoy each bite of Sanji’s food and each sip of the juice.

“How do you like it, (y/n)?” Sanji asked with a smile from across the table.

You thought for a moment and nodded. “It’s perfect! Never had anything better not even when I stole food from the Celestial Dragon’s feast!” You chuckled, watching him widen his eyes before his gaze softened with a smile.

“Sanji’s food really is the best!” Luffy said, followed by something you couldn’t really understand through all the food in his mouth; something that immediately earned him a hit on the head by Sanji yelling about good manners.

The hit, however, made Luffy elbow a glass and spill some of the juice on the table. It was a reflex; you gasped and stood up, only stopped by a hand holding onto yours. Zoro didn’t even stop eating, just shooting you a look. His hand didn’t let go once you sat down again, only doing it when you finally relaxed—because Sanji made Luffy clean it himself—and went back to eating. You looked at him for a moment, but he didn’t return the look, continuing to eat.

The day went by rather calmly and the night eventually fell, bringing chilly breezes that didn’t do much other than cooling down the weather a little, hence it continued warm. You could already feel the tiredness heaving your eyelids when you left the kitchen after having helped Sanji with the dishes, but instead of heading to the quarters, seeing the Crow’s Nest lights still on made you change your route at the same moment.

No one else walked on the deck and it was already kind of dark, only with the light of the galley and of the Crow’s Nest illuminating around, and the faint loud talk coming from downstairs cut under the sound of the waves.

You started climbing the ladder to the Crow’s Nest for the thousandth time that day, smiling in relief when you finally reached it. Zoro’s head immediately turned to you and he furrowed his eyebrows a little. He was sitting on the couch, taking care of his swords like he had the habit to. He only interrupted the silence when you sat down next to him.

“What are you doing here?”

“Making you company.”

“You know I’m on the night watch tonight.” Zoro sighed, shifting a little.

You shrug, gently grabbing the sheath of... Wado? Your fingers gently traced the patterns, observing it from close. “And?” The question had him hum in response, making you pout a little. “I don’t want to be alone tonight. I still have nightmares sometimes, you know that. You know I like spending time with you.” It was a reminder Zoro didn’t really need, but you felt like it was impossible to stress it enough. Still, it sounded a little pressuring, didn’t it? “But I can go—”

“Stay.” Zoro said simply, so you just sat there, making yourself comfortable next to him to watch him work on his swords. It was quiet and you didn’t seem to disturb his focus or anything, which made things quite enjoyable even if you were just sitting there doing something mundane.

You felt the urge to tell Zoro something. Sleep did want to get the best of you, but there was still something that didn’t sit right yet, and the way you couldn’t find the right position to sit against Zoro was somewhat a hint. Finally, he sheathed his swords again and set them aside, giving you the freedom to curl up against his side properly. Unlike the first few times ever, he didn’t tense up nor did his breath hitch this time, he just sat back on the couch and lifted his arm for you to press to his side and let it rest around you.

At first, you thought you had the urge to be near Zoro all the time and do these things because you had an extreme sense of gratitude towards him, but then it felt like... Something else. Zoro’s presence would make something stir in your chest and also give you that feeling you didn’t feel in forever—the feeling of not being afraid of your surroundings nor anyone else, of being able to sleep without fear of being awoken with a kick, or to make a mistake without worrying about a slap across your face. It was easy to feel home near him. You curled up closer to him to get more of that feeling or to calm it down a little because the way it grew made you believe your chest would burst.

Maybe Zoro noticed it. He had a good instinct when it came to you.

Zoro’s fingers played with your hair and massaged your scalp in a way that was so relaxing, almost compelling you to give in to the sleep already.

“Why don’t you lie down?” He nudged your side and pointed to the futon in the corner.

“No. It’s warm here.”

He sighed. “Are you cold? It’s warm tonight.”

“No.” You sighed, and he just let you be for a moment before he was shifting around so you’d have your head on his shoulder and legs thrown over his thigh. Quite comfortable. A soft hum escaped your lips in a wordless appreciation while you melted more against him, feeling his fingers continue to run against your scalp. “Zoro.”

“Hm?”

The words got caught in your throat, so you just hugged him more instead, taking a moment to bury your face in the crook of his neck. He had a specific smell. It was better when he did shower, which he started to do more often after some point.

“What’s it that got in you today?” Zoro nudged your side again, his voice carrying a teasing tone; your lips curled into a smile at the same time. “You know I’m not going anywhere.”

“Shhh...” You still held onto him tightly, which had him grumbling more under his breath. It made you giggle.

“Clingy.”

You giggled again. “Don’t pretend you don’t like it.”

Zoro exhaled in the same tone he did when he smiled—the type he couldn’t help. “I never said that.” And that answer made you hum softly, pressing yourself closer.

It was good, sitting there with your eyes closed and just feeling everything; you couldn’t help even if your heart beat fast in your chest. Usually, you’d just curl up next to Zoro or lean against him, other times rest your legs on his lap because it was convenient, but never anything that... intimate. His fingers trailed down the back of your neck and rubbed the base of your neck gently, in a soothing motion.

“(Y/n).” He was the one to whisper this time, voice gentle. You hummed in response, but nothing came, only his persisting touch on the back of your neck until you finally pulled away enough to look at him, blinking a little since the lights felt too bright for a moment. He looked at you then reached out a hand, touching your cheek, and the simple touch already made a shiver run down your spine. His thumb ran against your cheek gently, but it also felt intense enough to make your breath stop in your throat. “You’re beautiful, you knew that?”

Your cheeks warmed up with that. “I—I...”

Pride laced the smile on his face. “Can I kiss you?”

The question made you want to ask why. Why would he want to kiss you? Like, ever. Still, that feeling in your chest twisted again, and you were nodding before you could notice it.

Zoro’s lips were warm. They also felt like home. His touch was so caring; intense and soft at the same time, hence you couldn’t help but to melt as you kissed him back gently, at first nervously, but something about the way he held you had you slowly melting into his touch. It was almost as if whatever you felt couldn’t be contained in your chest.

“Zoro,” you whispered, but caught his lips again with yours at the moment he hummed in response. His breath fanned on the space between your nose and your upper lip, with the faint smell of sake it usually had. He hummed again, deepening the kiss as his grip on your cheek grew firmer. Letting go wasn’t easy once you kissed. Even the short breaks for air seemed like forever, taking away precious moments you could spend with your lips pressed together.

Either way, you had to pull away at some point. Zoro could almost see stars in your eyes as you looked at him, which ended up making his cheeks flush as well and he sighed deeply, feeling as if a weight was taken off his chest. He only came back to reality when he felt your touch, hesitant and lingering over his jaw. Your fingers traced it and went down until he could feel them trace the scar that crossed his chest. The touch had him shivering this time, and he couldn’t help but chuckle before leaning in to give you another kiss.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

[PART TWO]

#one piece #roronoa zoro #x reader #x male reader #x female reader #gender neutral #zoro x reader #one shot x reader #imagine #oneshot #monkey d luffy #nami #nico robin #sanji vinsmoke #usopp #strawhats

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wholoveseggs · 5 months

Text

Christmas Khaos

{Masterlist}

~Five days of Fluffmas~

You settle in with the Mikaelsons for a cozy Christmas movie night, but when movie choices spark a sibling feud, chaos ensues.

1k words - No warnings, no smut! just pure fluff.

You were cautiously carrying your mug of hot cocoa into the living room of the Mikaelson compound, observing Kol and Rebekah putting the finishing touches on the Christmas tree as you sat down on the sofa next to Elijah. The plan for the evening involved watching one of those cheesy holiday movies while snuggling in blankets with hot cocoa or eggnog.

"So, what movie did you all decide on?" you asked curiously.

"Die Hard," Kol smirked as he finished placing the last ornament on the tree.

"We already watched that a few days ago," Klaus huffed as he walked into the room. "I want to watch the Grinch."

"Of course you do," Kol scoffed.

"Those movies are terrible. We should watch a better one, like Love Actually!" Rebekah argued.

You turned to Elijah, who had decided not to involve himself in the argument. As the rest of the siblings bickered, you asked him quietly, "What do you want to watch?"

He looked over at his arguing siblings, then back at you. "I will always vote for whatever you want to watch."

You blushed and smiled, "Awww. That's sweet, but I'd still like to know your opinion. Do you have a preference?"

He was silent for a moment, looking deep in thought. "The Nutcracker."

"Seriously?" Kol said, breaking out of the argument he was having.

"Absolutely, The Nutcracker it is then," you announced, earning a raised eyebrow from Kol.

"Are we seriously going to watch a ballet?" he exclaimed, feigning disbelief.

Rebekah rolled her eyes, "Oh, come on, Kol! It's a classic! Plus, it's way better than your Die Hard obsession."

Kol shot back, "Die Hard is a Christmas masterpiece, unlike your sugary romantic dramas."

"We are watching The Nutcracker," Elijah said firmly.

The siblings groaned, but they still settled into the living room. You got up to put the movie in the DVD player, then returned to the sofa, sitting between Kol and Elijah. You grabbed the remote, and when you went to press play, nothing happened. You tried again, same result.

Elijah let out a deep sigh and stood, kneeling in front of the TV to fix the issue. Kol turned to you, giving you a sweet smile.

"So, darling, have any plans for New Year's?"

"Yeah," you nodded. "I'm going to a party in the Quarter."

"A party," he hummed. "I suppose you will be needing a ride there."

You gave him a questioning look. "Yeah… I guess."

He leaned in close to you, whispering into your ear, "I will gladly take you. In fact, I could take you home as well."

He leaned back, giving you a devious smirk. You bit your lip, feeling a little flustered. Kol was so hot, and the two of you had hooked up a few times. He was always so sweet and charming afterward and was just a good time in general. However, sometimes he was a little too flirty and mischievous for your taste. He had a habit of getting you into trouble. As his hand came down to rest on your thigh, you realized how easy it was for him to talk you into doing something reckless and dangerous. You had already done a lot of reckless things with him.

"H-how's the TV looking?" you asked Elijah, trying not to sound flustered.

"I can't figure out the source of the problem," Elijah replied, looking behind the TV.

Kol's hand started slowly inching higher up your leg. Your breath hitched as his thumb brushed against the inseam of your pants. You looked up to see Kol's smirk widen. He was really enjoying messing with you, and you were tempted to let him.

"Well, if it's not getting fixed anytime soon, I'll go get another hot cocoa," Rebekah announced, walking past the couch.

Suddenly the room erupted into chaos, the beautiful Christmas tree came crashing down, ornaments shattering on impact and scattering across the floor like glittering confetti. The air was filled with the jarring sound of glass breaking and the collective gasp of astonishment from everyone present. Everyone looked at it in shock, then jumped as the TV began blasting Christmas music at an alarming volume.

"Oh, for the love of—" Klaus started, but his voice was drowned out by the blaring Christmas music.

Elijah, still on his knees in front of the TV, frantically tried to mute the sound.

"Klaus, what did you do now?" Rebekah exclaimed, narrowing her eyes accusingly.

Kol, seizing the opportunity, grinned mischievously, "I bet Klaus sabotaged the tree to avoid watching The Nutcracker. Crafty move, brother."

“How am I getting blamed for this? I was standing across the room!” Klaus yelled in defense.

Rebekah crossed her arms, unconvinced. "Convenient, Klaus. Very convenient."

Kol chimed in, "Maybe the tree was threatened by Klaus's Grinchy energy."

Amidst the chaos, Elijah rose from in front of the TV, his calming presence attempting to restore order. "Enough, all of you! Let's focus on cleaning up this mess and salvaging what's left of our evening."

As Rebekah and Klaus continued to argue, and Elijah attempted to restore order, Kol's lips brushed against your ear again, his tone suggestive, "Care to get out of here?"

"Absolutely," you said, getting up from the couch.

Kol grabbed your hand and led you upstairs to his room. The moment you both entered, he pulled you into a kiss. The door closed behind you, muffling the echoes of the Mikaelson drama downstairs. Kol's mischievous grin persisted as he gently pulled away, guiding you backward towards his bed.

"Care to share what exactly you did downstairs?" you asked, a playful glint in your eyes.

"Just a little Christmas magic, darling," he smiled, leaning in to kiss you again.

You were sure the Mikaelsons would figure out it was Kol and come looking for him, but you weren't too worried. You knew how much trouble Kol was going to get in. Maybe you'd let him get away with it for a little while.

Besides, it was the most wonderful time of the year.

Credit goes to Anon for this idea ♡♡

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multific · 1 year

Text

King’s Landing Market

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: You just wanted to go to the market, you never expected to get hurt.

When Aemond kicked the door open, everyone inside jumped, including you.

The healer just finished putting a bandage onto your finger.

"Leave us!" Aemond barked as everyone quickly left.

He was quiet, the room felt extremely cold, but it could be just his stare.

You knew he was waiting for an explanation.

"I went to the market. I had guards with me, they wanted to take my jewelry when the guards were distracted. When the guards realized what was happening, they panicked. They snatched my ring, but by doing so they broke my finger." you showed Aemond your wrapped up pinky.

"You shouldn't have been there in the first place."

"I told you I wished to go and see the merchants. I told you I would go even if you disagree."

"And you got hurt as a result."

"It is only a finger."

"You should have disguised yourself better. Or you should have listened and didn't go in the first place."

"I heard the market holds a special event. People from all over the world would come to sell. I wished to see it. But I got robbed even before I could get to the first one." you pouted as you looked at your hands.

"I hope you learned from it." Aemond said before he turned and left the room.

---

The next day, once again, you were getting ready.

"And where are you going?" Aemond's voice startled you.

"To the market."

"Did you learn nothing?!"

"Two thieves are not going to derail me from my goal. I wish to purchase goods! I wish to see what they have to offer. I heard they have special silks and treats."

"You cannot go."

"I will go Aemond, you could either come with me or stay here. But I am going."

You said as you quickly put your bag around you. You looked at him, not moving.

"I know you are worried. Come with me then, it would be a good time." you offered a small smile to him, hoping it would help him.

And it did.

"I shall go with you then."

---

Walking around with Aemond wasn't exactly how you imagined it when yesterday you suggested the idea to him.

You hoped it would be a romantic day, but it turned into Aemond looming over you like a guard dog, scaring people with his hood up and eyepatch.

You tried to ignore him and walked in between the merchants.

Something caught your eye.

A lovely pair of earrings.

"My Lady! Your taste is amazing, those are made out of real sapphire." you held the earrings in your hands, you really did like them.

"How much for them?"

"They are only two golds, My Lady." you dug into your pocket and fished out two golds and handed them to the merchant who smiled at you.

You put the earrings away before moving to a new shop.

You noticed glass jars with what looked like candles in them.

"My Lady, good day. Would you be interested? These are candles."

"Never seen something like this."

"They are scented."

"Oh? How so?"

"My lovely wife's idea. You light it and it gives the room a lovely smell. Here, try it, this one smells of lavender." Aemond observing everyone around you.

"I am not too fond of lavenders I'm afraid."

"No problem, how about a more fruity scent? Perhaps strawberry?" you nodded and the merchant handed you a jar.

"This smells really lovely. So sweet. Your wife is wonderful."

"Thank you, My Lady." the man now looked at Aemond. "Would your husband like to smell?" he tried to hand Aemond a jar but Aemond only turned.

"I'm afraid as long as you don't sell weapon-scented ones, he wouldn't be so interested." you giggled it made the merchant laugh as Aemond just rolled his eyes. "I would like to buy one of the strawberry, the vanilla and what is this?"

"It is mint."

"One of that as well please."

"Of course, just do not put them next to curtains, please blow them out if you head to bed. Wouldn't want your house to be burnt down."

"Of course." you handed him the money before taking the items. "I should have bought a basket." you smiled at Aemond before heading towards the food items.

"Do you plan on buying everything?" his voice came out harsher than he intended.

"Possibly. It is your money after all." you looked serious. Perhaps way too serious for Aemond to say if you were joking or not. But of course you were. "No need to be so harsh Aemond." you smiled at him as he watched you walk to yet another merchant.

Aemond would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't happy to spend the day with you.

He loved it very much, that whenever you found something, let that be a dress or fabric or jewellery, your eyes started to shine so beautifully.

But he knew he had to be vigilant. He would not let anything like yesterday happen again. Every time he caught a glimpse of the wrap on your finger, he was reminded of that.

But he also noticed just how kind and sweet you were when you talked with the people.

A lady just sold you some chocolate-covered nuts.

"Try one." you said offering one to Aemond, he thought you would hand it to him, but no, you raised your fingers to his lips and he would take it like that. Aemond wasn't one for sweets, but this, he truly did enjoy. Maybe it was because they came from you. He wasn't sure. "Do you like it?" you asked so sweetly.

"Hm." his reply was simple, but you were used to it. You grabbed his hand, feeling bolder as you pulled him with you.

---

After dinner, you were back in your chamber, getting ready for bed, you brushed your hair.

You smiled as you softly hummed a tune.

What an amazing day you had.

Even if you and Aemond didn't marry out of love, you two still found companionship within each other.

You smiled as Aemond entered the room.

The soft scent of vanilla hit his nose as he noticed the candle lit by your side.

You soon finished with your hair as you blew out the candle and headed to bed.

Aemond was already in bed by the time you joined him.

You laid on your side, extending your hand and placed it on his chest.

"I had fun today." you whispered to him. "Wish we could do it more often. I really enjoyed my time with you, Husband."

Aemond's fingers soon found your wraps as he let out a sigh as he felt you flinch a little when he touched your hurt pinky.

"I should have been there. This wouldn't have happened."

"I'm just said I lost the ring. I quite liked that one you know."

"I will have hundreds more made."

"No need. At least the necklace you gave me is not gone. I like that one much more." you closed your eyes, ready to sleep when you heard him speak up.

"I enjoyed today quite as well, Wife." you hummed as he pulled your hand to his lips. He turned to face you, watching you as you drifted off to sleep.

"I can't sleep if you stare at me." you whispered, giggling a little before opening your eyes and meeting his. You moved close to him, placing your head under his chin, and wrapping your arms around him.

You let out one last sigh before falling off to sleep.

Aemond soon followed.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, PLAGIARISE, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

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doodle-pops · 7 months

Text

Kiss It Better

Elrond x reader

Kinktober 2023: Aphrodisiacs

Warnings: fem!reader, aphrodisiac, rough sex, marathon sex, manhandling, semi-public sex, Elrond being a tease

Words: 4.3k

Synopsis: When Elrond mistakenly adds aphrodisiacs to your sleep–inducing tea, your quest for a peaceful night’s rest takes an unexpected turn. Elrond, being understanding and patient, comes to your aid, ensuring you find the sleep you were looking for through rare methods.

List of Requests

“Oh dear!” Staring at the empty contents of the supposed bottle of wormwood powder and then lifting the actually clear glass of wormwood, Elrond’s tongue kissed his teeth at the accident he caused. A first–time mishap and on a grand scale, he was sure how the effects of the mistakenly emptied contents of what should have been wormwood, but accidentally giving lavender in a copious amount, would have. You were sitting impatiently, twirling around on his stool, complaining about feeling overly feverish and sensitive. To make matters better, it was approximately eight minutes since you drank the concoction he stirred up a storm to create.

There wasn’t much the healer could do aside from staring at the bottle, defeated before silently placing the empty jar onto the shelf and stepping away with concern in his eyes. Those brown eyes darted everywhere else to inspect for any other mistaken bottles of herbs and powders he may have accidentally mixed into the tea for your lethargy. His hands moved at the same rate his eyes followed, falling on every surface of empty bottles and out–of–place containers. Even the opened books were not spared from his investigation, should he have unknowingly flipped to the wrong page, he might as well consider.

“This,” he sighed as he reached for another jar he was sure of using, this time labelled incorrectly once he smelt the contents within and became aware of it being another floral powder, “will get me into trouble once the higher effects begin to kick in. Though, it should have begun…” His eyes trailed off the half–filled jar to rush towards the page where the instructions lay before him. For a second, just a second, Elrond was almost certain that the universe was playing tricks on his brain as he decoded the measurements written on the page.

Two teaspoons

One teaspoon

Two and half teaspoon

One tablespoon…

“Lord Elrond…” Your voice echoed annoyingly from the outer room as your temperature began to increase and the sensation of having clothes covering your body became irritating. You were confused about the effects of what his homey remedy for lethargy was giving off, far different from the usual teas you consumed within the past year. Now, fanning your face and neck while giving aggravated tugs to your dress, you whined to him once more. “Lord Elrond, please, what is happening?”

With a pregnant pause, his head cocked to the side and his ear flicked at the change in your tone, you were already under the fire. Deciding that it was wiser to keep the truth about his mistake under the radar, Elrond whisked himself out of the storeroom and into his office where he came across you dabbing a cloth dipped in the bowl of cooling waters along your neck. Regardless, the action appeared more provocative than intended as you ran the material along your elongated neck and parted your lips to release a long, quiet groan. Your ability to distinguish decorum with the flames building intensely within was absentminded. There was no time to stop and become self–aware of the performance you were putting on due to his slip–up.

Elrond on the other hand was unsure if to continue standing silently in the doorway and observe how far your actions would take you or snap you out of it and treat the issue. Shifting on his feet and taking a deep gulp as you wrung the cloth and allowed droplets of water to fall against your skin to provide coolness, your eyes opened and caught him staring with a jar in hand and his eyes honed on your confrontational display. “Lord Elrond,” you called out nonchalantly as though you were not lacking decorum, “what is happening to me? I thought you gave me a tea for my tiredness?”

Scepticism flooded his expression as he attempted to avoid your gaze, solely due to the siren look you threw and the disappointment of informing you of his blunder as a healer. Walking into the room, he stepped around the opposite side of the table and away from you to place the bottle of lavender at the centre. His palms were faced down and his head hung with his lips twisting, thinking of every possible solution and answer to return. “It…It would appear that—”

No, he couldn’t say that.

Cautiously rounding the table while his fingers trailed along the edge, he turned his focus to you as he approached you from your side and came to stand beside you. Wordlessly, he gingerly pried the cloth out your fingers, careful not to touch your skin and dabbed it across your forehead, making notes of your slight shivering and increased arousal. This was the bare minimal interaction with a cloth hindering skin–to–skin contact and you were already affected. Swiftly dipping the cloth into the bowl of cool water, he continued to dab at your forehead and the rest of your face, doing his best to avoid your neck to entice any behaviour.

His lips were pursed as he remained steadfast on applying the first step into solving your crisis, brown eyes following the motion of his hands until you began sighing too frequently. His eyes fell upon the bob of your throat and the parting of your lips the moment you shut your eyes to focus on the lingering sensation of his touch. It was then he decided it was a wrong idea to become close and personal to treat you.

“This is clearly a terrible idea,” he muttered, taking a step backwards and pondering on how to properly assess you.

“Elrond, forgive me, Lord Elrond,” you corrected and hopped off the stand to step forward, crossing the gap in three strides, “please just tell me what is happening and why does my body feel this…way.” At the end of your words, you began twitching, majorly at the junction where your thighs met your pelvis. The growing ache between your legs provoked you to squeeze your thighs together and shift from left to right.

Worry befell his eyes, and he bit the inside of his mouth at the progress of actions. “Alright, you need to sit and remain still, and refrain from touching me,” he ordered, frustratingly.

“Touching you?” You frowned and took three steps backwards to meet the stool.

Building a storm within the clustered spacing of his office, Elrond rapidly answered as he reached for a clean mortar and pestle, “Yes, no touching me because you might get the urge to do something like that to sedate the pain.” Having placed the instruments on the table not too far away, he placed his hands on his hips and turned to cast a worrisome look. “I made the wrong tea due to…mislabelling. I picked up the incorrect ingredients and gave you aphrodisiacs in extremely large doses.” His voice had shrunk at the end of his confession knowing fully well that you would blow a fuse.

“What?!” you shrieked. “Elrond, are you serious? I’m trying to gain hours sleeping, not sleeping around.”

He couldn’t help but find your statement to be entirely humorous as it slipped out and released a muted chuckle, hidden by the dipping of his head. “I apologise, the fault is entirely my own,” he clarified with a clearing of his throat. “However, if you can only sit still and allow me to cure it, you’ll soon be on your way to sleep.”

“And exactly how are you planning on curing this? Because to my unfortunate knowledge, somebody gave me aphrodisiacs in large quantities and claimed it was a new sleeping tea. Perhaps it wasn’t an accident and done on purpose. No wonder why I felt odd the minute I drank it,” you muttered with apprehension and cast a side eye at him. To blame Elrond was entirely not you and only the herbs taking its toll on your frustration. All in the act of attempting to have its purpose served.

Unaware of this being an effect, conversely, Elrond grew tired of your antics and snapped with fury in his voice, laced with weariness and concernment. “And I believe you have a way of solving this problem with all your complaining?” he challenged and slammed the mortar upon the table. “You seem to doubt my ability to remove the issue.”

“Of course, I do, especially when you appear as equally as weary as myself, I have every right to question your capabilities as a healer!” you reacted, shooting from your seat and standing beside him, shoulder to shoulder. “If you were the healer you claimed to be then I would not be in this situation—”

“Your pupils have dilated tremendously,” he whispered, causing his warm breath to fan your face prompting you to lean in closer unconsciously.

“So what?” you replied.

“And your pulse is becoming erratic,” he added, becoming aware of the proximity of your body.

“Let it—I don’t mind if it goes a bit high when I’m around you.” Fingers crawling up his arm, you kept eye contact with his gorgeous brown eyes and inched yourself closer until you wedged yourself in the gap between him and the table. Bodies pressing against each other, driving you insane, you reached out to hold him closer in an attempt to step away. Albeit, he wasn’t attempting to distance himself from your close–body figure, pressing against him.

“You’re thinking too much, Elrond,” your voice seduced while your finger reached his chin to tug it forward, mending the gap. “Just admit this was all a part of your plan and you desired me as much as I do. Just imagine,” you began, standing on your toes and placing your lips beside his ear, “how good it would feel to release all your tension in me. When was the last time you had a good time?”

“Y/N, think about this carefully,” he cautioned lowly, body shuddering when your lips kissed his earlobe and knowing that sense had disappeared the minute you consumed the tea. It was only a futile and last–resort attempt.

“Picture it Elrond,” you taunted and took his hand to wrap around your waist. “Us naked and entangled while you satisfy both our needs. Just think of how good you’ll fuck me.”

You proved the power and potency of the herbs and flowers was displayed by the rush of his arms instantly knocking all the parchment and instruments off in haste and hoisting you on the table. Tugging at your leggings and knickers until they were flung across the room, your bare legs met the cold air and his fingers. You trembled under his touch, your chest heaving and sweat building as the erraticism of your pulse escalated immensely, you cried out for him to get on with the show and stop teasing. You wanted to feel his body against yours without clothes hindering the sensation.

Reaching your hands out, they haphazardly yanked at his apparel and flung each piece across the room without care and concern. Your fingers desired the need to touch his skin and have the warmth of it pressing against yours to cool the raging fire crawling like molten lava across your skin. Inch by inch it sluggishly trailed, engulfing your entire body into flames while he stood there leaving you to take care of the matter on your own. The cruelty behind his reclusive actions, palms against the tabletop and standing between your legs while he breathed in your air and left you to undress him and then yourself increased the ache between your legs. Whining his name and frowning at him for provocation failed, for all he did was stand there with his brown eyes locked upon your pouting expression.

“You want me to assist you, don’t you?” he lowly chuckled, turning on the heat. “In fact, you need me to assist you.”

“Elrond, please don’t tease me any longer,” you wailed, tugging on the neckline of his shirt to bring his lips a little closer to meet yours, only to have him pull away at the last minute. “Just…Just fix it!”

“And here I thought you said I was incapable of such,” he corrected as his right hand slid up your back to meet the laces and give the bow a tug, unravelling it. With his thumb and forefinger gripping the end of the lace, he continued to unravel it until the bow was undone, leaving the rest of the intricate lacing to loosen. Straightening his posture and left standing in his leggings and shirt, he pulled you upright to unravel the tightness of the lacing and loosen the upper portion of your dress to allow his skilful fingers to peel it off artfully slowly.

The entire time, your hands were frozen on the buttons of his shirt and your eyes focused on the sleeves of your dress being tugged down your arm until they were caught at your elbow. The palpations of your chest could be heard and figured out by Elrond through the flustered expression you cast and the build–up of perspiration. The stickiness coating your skin, Elrond’s fingers swiped against it as he tugged at the front of the dress, prying your cleavage out from the confinements and into the open for his eyes to feast upon.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” he quizzed once most of the upper portion had been removed and took a step back, prying your fingers off the buttons to finish the removal of his clothes. “Is it because you need my care and touch desperately?”

His hands rubbed circles into your hipbone, provoking more sounds to fall from your lips. He wanted to witness how putty you would easily become for his remedy after all the smart–mouthing you were capable of relaying. To witness the hooded, lazily look in your eyes which morphed into want and the parting of your lips to moisten it as his body rocked into yours, enticed him to take the remaining steps to completion.

Towering above you flushed and semi–nude, both hands ran up your legs, over every curve and bump, pushing your dress until it bunched around your waist. Measuring the gap between you, he stepped closer to fill it, also yanking your body closer till it was flushed against his chest. The ripples of goosebumps once your breasts were squeezing on his chest, nipples hardened and rubbing deliciously upon the smoothness of your Lord’s skin, shot across your ignited body. Little whimpers and sighs were emitted at the action of your bodies firmly pressed without any space in between to disturb the tension being created.

Gathering the energy to reach for the rest of your sleeves and tugging it off completely, now your dress pooled perfectly around your waist, he slipped his hands under your thighs and brought them to encircle his waist. The yelp you emitted was swallowed up by his lips colliding with yours and wasting no time in giving you the chance to adjust. Elrond pried your lips apart with his tongue and went to work fervently to savour the sweet taste of your kiss. His groans, at first, were inaudible. Being devoured by your lips as you made attempts at eating his lips or rather his face—your fingers were clawing into his nape and back, pushing him deeper into your body as though you wanted him to morph into you.

For every bite of your lip, your fingers tightened at his nape and gave small tugs to his hair, and for every swipe of his tongue against yours, you dug your nails into his back to leave your signature. The kiss was unlike any other you had experienced, perhaps with the mixture of him being your Lord and you his assistant, the thrill was heightened led to his touch being voracious.

Conversely, Elrond was a master in his art and possessed infinite levels of control unlike you in this situation at a time like this. Breaking the kiss much to your disappointment, his lips remained a few centimetres apart. “Are you going to give me an answer?”

Your body jerked in his hold as his question left you furious at the leisurely time he was taking to fix the issue. The blood under your skin was boiling causing the fingers gnawing at his neck and back to force him into hurrying up. “Would you quit it and just fuck me already? Put the heat out and just make me feel good!” you wailed.

For the first time in years, Elrond felt rejuvenated at the game he played with you. It wasn’t something he was ever fond of, always preferring to make the moment romantic and full of adoration and love, but today sparked a newfound delight. All the while you were yapping and running your mouth, being demanding and obnoxious, the hands that once held your thighs already slipped between your bodies to unsheathe his cock from his leggings and guide it towards your opening. He was thrilled your attention was focused on getting him to comply that you were oblivious to your wish being fulfilled.

“Is this what you wanted me to give you?” With his body at present pressed against yours, there was no room for your eyes to witness the motion of his cock approaching your cunt, only to feel the breaching with an eye roll and heave. Thankfully your hands flopped off his back to brace your body upright on your forearms, you were given the most precious sight of his cock sliding in and out, already covered in a sheet of your arousal. The only thing left for him to do was to pick up the pace.

“You want me to give you pleasure?” he goaded. “But you told me I lacked the capabilities.”

A mischievous grin was set upon his face as the rocking of his hips remained steady and at a snail’s pace. No amount of gripping his hips or pressing the heels of your ankles into his back would increase his speed; not until you gave him an answer.

“Please, please, please. J–…Just give it to me Elrond…” crying out with a solid flop against the table, as much as your body was being stimulated, it wasn’t at the rate required to soothe the ache. “I just want your cock…”

As desperate and pitiful as it sounded, it was pleasant to his ears somehow and fuelled the course of his actions. Leaning his body lower, his hips maintained their rhythmic pattern, leaving behind the soft pitta–patter of his ball being soaked by your drenched cunt. It made his eyes widen the realisation of the desire you contained to be relieved and how much he gave you to consume. Pleased in ways unimaginable, his left hand cupped your face for his thumb to run over your lips before feeling your lips wrapping around the tip and your tongue swirling around it. Eyes widening, yet kept holding his finger, they were fixated on the motion of your lips.

Hissing, his lips formed a smirk at the inability of you to give a response before barrelling away. With his right hand occupied on your waist, he used it to guide your hips to meet the increased tempo of his thrust, awakening the temptress within you. Provocative moans from the depths of your soul escaped your lips and left him more aroused from the start. Even through the action of your sweet lips sucking on his finger, he could precisely and clearly hear each syllable of your melody the more he drove his cock into you.

He couldn’t believe how right you were about the last time he gave himself away so freely to the highs of ecstasy. Your words replayed in his head about releasing all his tension while curing your problem; considering it beneficial when he was problem solving both your issues in one shot—a good remedy.

Letting himself loose, Elrond flung his head backwards to join you in harmony as moans fell from his lips. The tightness of your cunt, a feeling he missed and enjoyed, wrapping around him suffocatingly without a moment of reprieve spiralled him into ecstasy. Your snuggly held him in possession, considering him yours with every stroke he delivered, kissing your sweet spot like no tomorrow and leaving behind stains of his precum to quench the flames. The rigidness and robustness of his cock, the perfect weight resting within your walls were accepted with familiarity. Allowing you to remodel and mould your insides to suit the shape of what he desired. A place where he could return for release and satisfaction.

With the first wave of your fire cooling from sinister rolls of his hips, loudly slapping against the inner of your thighs, you sighed in euphoria. This was the relief your body craved all these months, not sleep. The sensation of being twisted into different positions, from lying on your back to being placed on your side with your leg over his shoulder, a different type of workout that proved to be the best form of lethargy. There wasn’t a position your legs were being tossed into the deeper he drove his cock to have it touch placed unheard of. When they were considered myths, your Lord Elrond proved them false with the wicked flex of his hips to bury himself in the depths of your core, emptying the first release of tension before pummelling again.

There was no stopping when you were now being placed on your stomach, your right foot planted directly into the floor with your left hitched on the table and his hips smacking against your ass. You could have sworn that he was the one who drank the tea instead of you, but with a quick reality check of the volume of releases you made in the last half an hour, it was you.

The deliberating crawl of your cramps as he fucked you like no tomorrow, fingers massaging the back of your thigh while his lips whispered filth in your ear, eased the pain. Even when your stomach clenched and your walls cramped around his cock as the coolness of your orgasm quenched the flames, his fingers ghosting over your skin was a better sensation and stimulation. You could stand there for as long as he desired and take the vigorous pummelling he gave, even if it left you bedridden, it would been the best rest and treatment for your weariness received. It might encourage you to make checks more often than usual.

On Elrond’s end, he could say the same thing. His right hand intertwined with yours upon the table, sweaty chest rubbing against yours and finger massaging your thigh, he would have to make frequent schedules for another visit. Nevertheless, he only wished for the constant slipping and sliding of your bodies to cease. It made things difficult for him to hold and keep close, albeit it allowed for the sounds of his hips meeting your ass to reverberate in the depths of his eardrum, placing a pleasant smile on his face.

“Your cries sound better than I imagined, Y/N.” His voice trickled into your ear like caramel, melting away any remaining tension in your bones. Your body visibly sagged into his chest; head lulled atop his shoulder while your lips remained parts to release your broken, stammering moans. “Tell me, is the treatment to your liking? Would you like me to ease the ache once more?”

Breathlessly fumbling around with your words, your fingers tightened in his and pressed into the table, knocking your knuckles into the solid wood at the swelling of his cock, expanding your walls. The violent flooding of his cum seeping into your cunt and being pushed deeper with the intention of being kept there, left you shaking. Your body couldn’t handle the intoxication of his presence entering you again, speeding up the process for another wave of your orgasm to break through and mix with his. Your cries were all he was listening to while he relentlessly continued to pound away at your walls, loving the hypersensitivity he sent you into.

“Oh fuck, El–…rond!” Wailing into the heated air, your breath condensed at the rise in temperature of the office. Your body’s urge to collapse was prohibited by the gentle encircling of his right arm, still entwined with yours, around your waist to keep you upright and against his sweaty chest. The amazement you held at the unshakeable power he wielded to continue round after round as though his limit was endless. You were beginning to consider the acknowledgement of you being hit with aphrodisiacs was false and simply made up to lure you into his trap.

After all, he was a descendant of a Maia, a powerful at that, being able to ensnare you with the hypnotic look in his eyes was enough to have you at his beck and call. Imagine what his voice was doing as your insides churned and melted with the melody of his moans against your earlobe. Lips kissing the tips and breathless groaning at the squeeze you gave; Elrond summoned you to him like a siren calling its prey.

“Just like that, I’m sure you can give me another and another and another,” he encouraged, placing more pressure on your sweet spot as he ground his hips into your ass and rubbed the tip of his cock against it. “Just let me take care of you. I’ll make you feel better.”

He was unappeasible and outmatched you.

And yet, it did not terrify you, only enticing you to further give in and allow him to care and tend to your needs. His touches and words were all that were required to provoke your body into rejuvenation. He could kiss away the pain, ghost his lips over your skin or breathe against it and all would be well. His remedy to heal your ache was the best and always provided satisfaction.

Masterlist

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od4saku · 9 months

Text

Itoshi Rin is beginning to think that he is only good at wasting time.

Another day has passed with little to no contact between the two of you. Fingers thrum against a desk, occupying the vacancy that was once filled by your things: a laptop with a star sticker in the corner, a shoddy mouse, a book you'd raved to him about just a week before. He hadn't listened then— he'd give anything to get a chance, now.

The empty space eats away at him. There are only fragments of you left, and he thinks that hurts the most. Not your absence, but the falsity of your presence. The pillow on your side of the bed is still indented from where you used to lay your head at night (from however long ago it was last used— Rin doesn't remember when you stopped sleeping over.) An empty vase sits on his bedside table. You used to buy flowers for it; a new selection every month, though your favorites were always carnations. A candle you left on the desk is sitting lonesome in the corner. The wick is burnt to a stub, curled like an ashen rib, contrasting the stark white of the jasmine-scented wax. The glass jar rises far higher than the wax. It's an old, well-loved possession, and the fragrance carries even without it being lit, and painfully, it reminds him of you.

It all does. Everything in this room, everything in this apartment. In this life, even. He smells jasmine in the wind, and he sees the flowers you used to bring home in boutiques and growing wild on the sides of streets. He sees your outline in every passing stranger. The curl of your smile shows itself to him in the curves of smoke that rise from his manager's cigarettes. Words swirl and spin, on pages and on phones, and he hears them all in your voice.

He is resentful. It's a vile thing, the feeling in his gut. His liver swells with hurt and grief. His stomach pulls and churns. His lungs are heavy with smoke, from breathing in every bit of your shadow he could find. Oh, but he is angry, angry more than anything. Angry at himself. Rin didn't have to miss you— this loneliness, the kind that clings to your skin like ash— he didn't have to feel it. A knot has been settled in his stomach since you left. He feels encased in wax, a thousand stone heavier and smothered by the smell of fragrant flower and something burning.

Rin cannot help the hatred he feels for himself, making its home in his heart. Nestled neatly into the left crater in his chest is a sordid bundle of feelings that burn like a forest met with a match. Smoldering deeper and deeper into his ribcage, it flickers with more life than he himself has possessed since you left. Because, truly, it was his fault you were gone, was it not? The confession to himself makes his body ache more, and vile builds up in his throat— he knows he's right. He knows it's him, him, him. The thief of his own joy. You. His light. He'd put out the candle.

Rin remembers how you met. In an unsavory bar, with dim yellow lighting and the uncomfortable presence of drunks with no boundaries, he caught your semi-smile from across the room. He was sober, watching his friends meander around like headless chickens, and he thinks you were in the same position. Laughter creased your cheeks, he observed even though he couldn't hear, as you laughed at something your rosy-cheeked friend said. He followed you with his eyes, watching your fingers curl around her shoulders, pulling her close. Affection, love. His mind wandered; he mulled how might it feel to be on the receiving end. And he blinked, and then you were looking at him. A deer in headlights, he'd tried to turn, but you were already on your way— and he'd already seen your smile. So brilliant, so blinding. He was already gone, just hadn't realized it. (A candle, lit. Glass jar full to the top. Fresh off the shelf— faintly smelling of jasmine.)

The way he loved you was something different. A hot, heavy love. It bruised and left marks, blossoms of black and blue on his pale neck and collarbone. A fire in his belly and stars in his eyes. He loved you like an alcoholic loves a bar, like a fisherman loves the moon. A savior, a salve, a saint. Oh, he loved you something violent. A gross dependency, an addiction to your warmth. He needed you to sink into his skin, to burn his flesh so he’d be scarred with your heat forever. He wanted to smell like your smoke, and jasmine. To feel his lungs ache with the burden of ashes. Like no other, he loved you. He loves you. He never stopped. He’d never stop. He’s never told you— doesn’t think he can— but he would never stop. The sun sets outside the window to his right, filtering through the half-drawn blinds. The rays of molten gold hit his arm and the edge of the desk he sits at, slumped. The wood glows with a cold, impersonal light. A little fragment reflects off the corner of the candle’s glass jar, sending a piece of light dancing against the wall behind Rin. He swears that even the sunlight itself is colder without you to be lit up by it.

Ironically, he shivers. The fog glazing Rin’s mind fades a little and he’s forced to consider the time— it’s not late, but it’s been days since he last slept. He has practice in the morning. A foul churning makes itself known in his gut— practice. Lately, it’s been all he’s done. It’s always been that way, truthfully, but with you he felt more free. When he had you, he could push it aside, just for a little. When your relationship had begun, he didn’t need to care about much else. But eventually, time waned on. The candle burned, and the wax dissipated into gas, and his profession returned to the forefront of his mind. It had never really left, only been sidelined for a short while. But when this priority had resurfaced, he’d pushed everything else aside for it. All his other necessities lay forgotten, like a grandmother’s antiques after her passing. Left to collect dust in an insensitive relative’s attic. He forgot about eating, and sleeping, and you. The things that really mattered, gone. Ambition was his downfall in the end. Now he had it— he was back on top of his field, back in the lead, in charge. But he had burned you out. All that was left of you were the scars— ones that he had savored at some point. Now, they were just a reminder of what he didn’t have.

You tried your hardest, he can see in hindsight. A warm, home cooked meal would often wait for him in his apartment when he returned late from practice. You offered him anything— a massage, space, warmth, a home. You gave him everything. And he took it. He was hot-wired and burning, electric. Too gone to appreciate you, too bothered to give you peace. To say thank you. To return the favor. And still, you gave him anything you could. The fragments of yourself— the candle, the flowers, the shape of you still indented into his bed— you shifted your life to try and change his. And he remained obstinate and stubborn, stuck in his ways. Leaving early, returning late. Gone before you woke and back after you’d already fallen asleep. It was because of this that Rin didn’t realize you had officially moved out until a week after you’d left, when you’d texted him telling him you’d come to get your things on some foggy Thursday afternoon. He didn’t even notice. That, he thinks, snapped him out of his stupor. His drive, his game, he blanched. Itoshi Rin feels conceited to say that his anger makes his mind a scary place, but it’s the truth. And he has unknowingly made you a victim. His self-loathing had only ever had one person to affect before— himself— he’d never considered it hurting you. He’d never considered that he’d be the reason you burned out.

Today was that foggy Thursday afternoon, and he doesn’t deserve to wait for you like he does. He doesn’t deserve to still love you, not with the same vehemence or passion. The air is heavy in the bedroom of what was once a shared apartment, like smoke lingered, even though no candle had been lit in the week you’d been gone. Silence weighs like a million tons. He blinks, and the desk is still empty, the vase is still barren, the light bouncing off the candle’s glass jar has only shifted a millimeter. No, he doesn’t deserve to care. He doesn’t deserve you. He didn’t choose you, he lost you. He didn’t deserve anything. The rotten bundle in the left side of his chest pulses like it’s pretending to be a heart. He aches something ugly. And Rin almost, almost thinks he’s imagining it when a hesitant knock sounds at the door. He’s not near the entrance— a room away, about— but it’s so deadly quiet in the apartment that the sound carries. He stands and moves, and the smell of jasmine smoke follows. Rin is on autopilot when he opens the door, and he’s even more gone when he sees you. You are even more beautiful than he remembers, he thinks, and he can’t breathe. You’re so pretty when you look at him, but there is mourning in your eyes. Your warmth is not that of a candle, a fireplace, a welcoming, homely heat– you are hot like a funeral pyre. You burn like it hurts. Smile lines hide from your face. The crease by your eyes when you smile isn’t there. Your eyes, in fact, are red. Streaky cheeks and lashes webbed together indicate that you were crying and the excuse of a heart in Rin’s chest goes up in smoke.

He looks at you for a while, eyes flitting across your face, Despite how much it hurts, he drinks in every detail— every pore, every crease, every lack thereof, every single thing. Because it’s been so, so long since he’s seen you— a week— and even longer since he’s really, really seen you. Your lips are chapped. Quickly, your tongue moves to wet them before you open your mouth to speak; he tries not to stare. “I’m here for my things.”

Silence permeates the tension in the air. Thick, thick smoke hangs like a veil, choking the words out of him. He stands in the doorway staring like a statue of a fool. He’s sure he looks pathetic, stupid, even. A frail excuse of a man, of a boyfriend. A person who did not deserve you. Who didn’t see you begging to be seen, to be prioritized, to be chosen. A failure. The knot in his stomach tightens. He can’t stop looking at you, observing the invisible scars he’s left, the pain he sees written in the bags beneath your eyes, the streaks on your face, the hurt he put you through. Every second makes him angrier at himself. If he wasn’t frozen in place, he’s sure his hand would curl into a first so tight that his bones would crack like twigs.

He wonders how long he’s been hurting you for. How long you’ve felt this, this invisible pain. Without saying thank you, without saying he loves you. How much damage has he done? Irreparable, horrible damage. How long has he been doing this for, without even realizing? He thinks back to a couple months ago— a sleepless night.

He can't tell what time it is, but there is no light outside the window and the sky is speckled with faint, distant stars. Silken curtains conceal the moon, if it's even out there. Quietly, Rin moves to sit upright against his pillow, careful as to not wake you. It's so strange, really, because you’re right next to him and that usually leads him to peaceful nights. But he suspects that your company might be the reason for his sudden insomnia tonight.

He tries to make out your figure in the darkness of the room. He can’t fully see you— all he can discern is a silhouette beneath a blanket, a mess of hair falling against the curves and slopes of your face and jaw, and a hand, outstretched. Like you were reaching for him.

Rin's been awake for hours, he suspects. going through the motions of closing his eyes and pretending to sleep isn’t doing anything for him anymore. Listening to your breathing grow soft and slow only served to fuel his racing mind, the myriad of thoughts that kept him awake. You’re on your side and he observes your outline inhale, then exhale. Steadily. Systematically. Soundly. You look so peaceful, like an angel of some kind. A pit grows in his stomach. A nauseating, gnawing feeling. The very same one that’s kept him up. A guilt, he thinks, that is eating him alive.

His vision adjusts to the dark, and it falls on your hand. Your palm, more specifically, which is face up. A small, raw burn scar marks the soft flesh in between your thumb and pointer finger; nothing too big. It almost looks more like a birthmark in this lack of lighting. He winces, a little, as you shift the tiniest bit and push your extended palm closer. His vision focuses even in the dark and he’s forced to take in the true nature of the wound— splotchy, and angry. Red and fresh and beginning to swell a little, and undoubtedly painful. And all of it, his doing.

Rin exhales. He did that to you. It’s his fault you got hurt.

Just a few hours ago, he’d returned home to your shared apartment to you starting dinner. And he’d stupidly bumped into you when moving to wash his hands at the sink, letting you slam into the hot pan with your hand. Only a second of contact was made, and he’d forced you to let him help you bandage and clean the small wound. But the damage was done. He’d hurt you. His hands, your hurt. He burned you.

His eyes travel up your hand, to your arm, to your chest and neck and jaw and then face, where he startles at your open eyes, only one visible from your positioning, shining even in the dark with a mirthful warmth that he’s still unsure of sometimes. “Is the view really that nice?”

His face grows warm at your words, and the rasp that exhaustion adds to your voice. Your playful cadence only serves to ignite his guilt further, like kindling. His jaw tightens and he sees your brows knit together as you read his body language. You shift and pull yourself up with your hands, wincing slightly. He thinks that you think he doesn’t notice.

“What’s wrong, Rin?”

He can’t find the words to express his guilt. How he hurt you. How he was scared that it was only the beginning. How he had so, so much pain, and how he was fated to lash out. How it was only a matter of time. But even he didn’t understand this at the time, so he just choked out a simple, “I burned you.”

You blink. He stares at your hand, unable to meet your eyes. A palm gently touches his shoulder, and then fingertips move down his clothed spine. Your touch is so warm as you pull yourself closer. “You didn’t mean it, babe.”

He just looks at you. Your hand makes its way to the side of his head, and you pull the taller man close, down into your chest. The heat is unbearably kind to him, and he feels himself relax into you even though he doesn’t deserve to. You sigh, and it echoes in his skull. He can hear the steady beat of your heart. Gentle hands massage his scalp.

The guilt surges up again, and he blurts out: “what if it happens again?”

You pause for a beat before continuing your movements. He thinks that you can tell it’s not just about the burn anymore. (Up, down, up, down, switch to the other side of his head.) “It won't.”

“But it might.”

And then you press a smiling kiss to his scalp, and he feels worse and better at the same time— “it’s okay. It’s worth it, if I'm with you. Burn me as much as you like, Rin. I can take it.”

He snaps back to reality when you slide past him, coming closer than you have in weeks. His mouth goes dry at the almost-contact. He watches you walk into the apartment, steps losing speed the further in you get— you’re slow, and deliberate with how you navigate. Like it’s a new environment. Something inside him shatters. Because it’s not new. It’s yours. It’s his and yours and you used to belong here, and now you’re picking out your things. He can’t do anything but watch as you riffle through various drawers in various rooms and pull out various items. He spots a phone charger, a dented metal water bottle, a notebook, a scarf. Things too sentimental to leave behind in a place you didn’t care for anymore, he guesses. Because of course you hate him now. It makes sense— he would, too. Rin feels grotesque. He is a dissonant note, he is the smell of burning plastic. And he just watches you as you prepare to walk out of his life forever, the one person he thinks he can say he loves without lying a little, because of course he is. Of course, because Itoshi Rin is so, too good at wasting time. So yes, he agrees, he would hate him too for what he did to you. For keeping you at arm’s length and expecting you to love him despite it all. He would. He does. (When did he stop feeling bad? When did he stop noticing? When, when, when?)

You walk into the bedroom, and he tails you at a distance. Standing in the doorway, he watches you take it in. The half-drawn shades paired with an almost-vanished sun cast gold lines onto you and the room is uncomfortably warm. You are bathed in gold. You are so, so beautiful. And your eyes fix onto the nearly burned out jasmine-scented candle. Something in your expression shifts. Rin says nothing about the flicker in your eyes. You open the desk drawer, and he half-expects you to pull out another one of your belongings— but it’s a lighter. The long, slim kind, that you keep for candles. You don’t look at him when you say, “might as well, right? It already smells like the gym in here.”

Your words are joking but he knows you’re making an excuse and you know it too. Biding time, is what you're doing, and something so grossly like hope dries out his tongue. You are trying, too. You aren’t ready to let go yet, either. The candle isn’t burnt out yet. There’s still time. You light the candle and the warm smell of jasmine amplifies— there are notes of vanilla, and something sweet like honey, and it’s so much richer than it was when you’d first brought it home. The wick burns and stretches its limits. It’s a matter of minutes before it gives out. It’s a matter of minutes before his chance is gone. Rin is good at wasting time, but maybe he can be better at using it. So he dry swallows the knot in his throat, and speaks.

“I missed you.”

He didn’t know what else to say. It’s so painfully true, his simple, stupid sentence. He missed you. So, so much. You don’t look at him. You watch the candlelight flicker, as if you’re waiting for it to go out.

“Oh,” is all you say.

“I did.” He manages the words out and they are rough with unprocessed emotion and guilt and god, he hates talking about his feelings.

You turn at this, eyes dull. He feels about as shattered as you look. “I kind of can’t believe you.”

And why should you? Oh, why, why, why should you? The simple answer is: you shouldn’t. He doesn’t think you should. You don’t think you should. No one, god, no one, would think you should. Because Itoshi Rin is cruel. He is a distant lover, with hands bloodier than his heart. He is callous. He is cold. Itoshi Rin is not a man who will wait for you, but one who will want you to wait for him. He is stubborn and unkind. Itoshi Rin cares not for most people. He holds more hate in his heart than love. He can’t help it. He can’t. He can’t be fixed. Broken beyond repair, Itoshi Rin is not worth your time.

But, among all this, he is selfish. Oh, he’s so selfish, with the way he wants you. He wants your hands in his hair and your warmth on his skin. He wants to feel your heartbeat flicker and burn under his rough palms. He wants to hold the left side of your chest— your beating, bleeding heart— in the palm of his hand. He wants every inch of your body to have his touch seared into your skin so you can’t forget about him, not ever, because he can’t be alone without you. He wants your voice in his ear, he wants you to say his name. He wants your love, plain, simple, clear. Because despite his selfishness, despite his flaws, his ambition, his cruel streak, his hatred, he loves you more than anything. It’s one of the few things he holds true in his heart, one of the only facts and constants he has. He is 24, he is foolish, he is in love with you. This is all he has. He cannot let it go. He refuses to.

“I love you.”

You have been with Rin for a year, 8 months, 22 days, and a few hours. He knows because he keeps track. All this time, he’s never been able to say those words. He knows they’re true. You know it, too, that he loves you. But he’s never said them. You never pushed, never bothered. And if you cared, you didn’t say a word. This is something about you he can’t help but think was one of the reasons he fell for you— emotional intelligence, beyond your years. You didn’t make milestones a big deal because you could sense he didn’t want them to be. But you go still at his statement now, and he hears your breathing hitch ever-so-slightly at the unexpected transparency. He says he loves you, and he means it. He does. He means it more than anything.

If Rin was a better person, he’d say more. He’d tell you that it’s okay if you leave him (it’s not), and that he understands (he does but he doesn’t care), and that you should find someone better (even though he really doesn’t think you should.) He would talk to you about how his past shadowed his future, how that affected him and how that, in turn, affected you, even though he never meant it to. How he has always been second best, but with you, he felt golden. How he wasn’t ready for the candle to burn out yet, but he couldn’t stop it. He really, really should say something else. But he’s not a better, or bigger, or kinder person. No, that’s not the man you fell in love with. So he says it again. “I love you.”

The words are more confident this time, whereas they were quieter, more hesitant the first. You don’t blink, you don’t move, Rin wonders if you even breathe— and then you laugh. There’s nothing funny but you laugh. It’s a rather inelegant snort of laughter, that gasps out into heaving breaths. Before you know it, you’re doubled over, hands on your knees, and it’s not a mean laugh. No, it isn’t. Joy fills the room. It’s yellow, like sunlight, but a million times warmer. Not the unpleasant kind, but a gentle sort of heat— like the first rays of sun after a long winter. Like spring is coming. Like a palm being warmed over the heat of a tiny, lit candle. Rin cracks a smile. It’s the somber kind. But it’s full of something blazing— something hopeful.

Through laughter, you manage to ask, “say it again?”

He makes a face. “No.”

“Oh, screw you.” It’s like the sun has risen (even though it just set) and the sky has been purged of clouds and smoke turned into a gentle little breeze and the world was a million pounds lighter. The burden of guilt feels less like a burden and more like a ball and chain– still heavy, still holding on, but salvageable. There is a key. There is a way out.

His words didn’t fix everything. He knows that much. They didn’t erase the hurt, exhaustion, pain, the world of loneliness he’s put you in. They might never. But they brought your smile lines back. They brought the creases in your eyes back. They fixed, not saved, but fixed a little piece of what was broken. There is so much to be done. There are words to be said, arguments to fight, touches to be shared— but for now, this is enough. You drop your collected items on the desk and sit back on the bed, patting the space next to you, beckoning him to come sit. And of course he does, because he owes it to you forevermore. He’d spend the rest of his life making it up to you, he thinks. He knows he will. He sits next to you and feels warmer than he ever has.

(Neither of you notice that the candle has burnt out— oh, well. There’s a new one, unopened, in the closet anyways.)

#blue lock x reader #itoshi rin x reader #bllk x reader #itoshi rin #blue lock #reader insert #angst with a happy ending

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n-s4kayaky · 8 months

Text

Satisfying journey

(Notes: Hi! I'm new to writing stories on this app. While I am familiar with writing the occasional one-shot or comic strip, it's been a while. I'm writing this story for my own enjoyment and excitement. I just wanted to let you know that if there are any grammatical errors, I apologize. I'm also more than happy to hear your suggestions and feedback. For now, this is all I can share. I hope you enjoy this story)

Pairing: Buggy The Clown x F!Reader

Summary: You are a young woman tired of living in your old and gloomy town, looking for an adventure or a new place to live. You obtain a boat in terrible condition, but good enough to take you to the nearest island, which is called Orange Town. Upon arrival, you are surprised by the deplorable state of the city, observing how half of it is demolished and in absolute silence because no one walked through those streets. You search throughout the city for someone to tell you what is happening there, but while you search for something or someone to provide you with a minimum of information, some pirates find you first. Thinking that you are a citizen of that town, they take you prisoner to a large tent that looked like a circus, which was full of the population of that city, only that they were chained in their seats with a shocking appearance. The pirates do the same to you as they did to the other citizens and handcuff you.

Confused and before you could grumble at your captors, the lights went out completely and a large group of what looked like circus performers came out, starting their show. Everything seemed "normal", people applauded based on a large sign with the word "APPLAUSE" and laughed when the same sign said "LAUGHTER". Buggy came out of a large hallway, you knew you had seen him somewhere before; you didn't remember where but that face was familiar to you. The Captain began to scold his crew for the poor show they were putting on and for the lack of attention they were paying to him. Due to this, the sign with the word "APPLAUSE" shone again and the entire audience did what they were ordered to do, everyone except you, too confused and lost in your thoughts trying to remember who that clown was. Of course, your action did not go unnoticed and that's why the captain's attention was fixed on you.

Warnings: Depictions of Violence and Torture, Buggy being the star of the show and a complete jerk, sexual tension and teasing, romance, humiliation.

The rays of the sun stung against the skin of your arms and face, the smell of saltwater permeated your nose, and the gentle sea breeze made your hair wave. You were lying in your small boat, not having much else to do at the moment, just lying down, looking at the blue sky, and waiting for the tide to take you somewhere worthwhile. Had you ventured into the vast and dangerous ocean without a hint of knowledge about navigation? Yes, but what did you have to lose at that moment? You knew you weren't going back to your village or being given a mansion and 5,000 berries. You sighed in boredom as your stomach began to growl with hunger. You lazily rose from the small boat and rummaged through your bag where you had put some provisions to endure as long as possible at sea, but to your surprise, the bag was almost empty. There was only a small glass jar with a sip of water left, and the only edible thing you had at that moment was half an apple, which was already beginning to rot on the inside. A grimace appeared on your face, and you sighed resentfully. You had to get to a place with food as soon as possible if you didn't want to die of hunger in the middle of the vast sea.

With the small safety knife you had in your pants pocket, you began to take the small part of the fruit that was still in good condition, bringing it to your mouth and eating while your eyes once again rested on the bright blue sky, watching as the occasional seagull flew over it. You ate the last of your fruit and decided it was best to save the little water you had left for later. With a sigh, you got up from the boat, standing on the dirty and damp wood as you looked around for something that would please your eyes. Fortunately, you had great luck and saw what looked like a city just a few kilometers away. A big smile spread across your face and you energetically took the small oars in the boat, beginning to row towards the town.

You arrived at what seemed like a beach and boarded your sorry boat, thanking any god that you could touch solid ground again. You took your bag, which had a few changes of clothes, a small bag with some money, and that bottle of water. You didn't take much from your old home, you didn't want to be burdened, and you were clear that as soon as you arrived on an island, you would look for a hostel to stay in and a job that would provide you with enough money to subsist. Your feet began to walk, climbing up the beach until you reached the streets of the city; but something was wrong there, you couldn't hear a soul, and you couldn't see anyone around. You simply continued on your way, getting into the alleys of the town, maybe you had embarked in an area that not many people passed through. It wasn't until you walked a while through the town that you reached the center, where your eyes were horrified by the pitiful sight in front of you. The houses were collapsed, dust and ash flew through the air and made your throat close when those particles entered your nostrils, small fires still burned in some of the destroyed houses, smoke came out of some of the homes, creating a smoky atmosphere around you and making you cough from time to time. What the hell had happened here? You kept walking slowly, looking around with fear that any of your steps would cause a collapse in some house.

From a distance, you managed to hear two people talking, hoping they were citizens, you turned around ready to go talk to them to find out what the hell had happened there; but when you turned around, what you saw did not seem like simple citizens. They were dressed in a striking way, to say the least, it seemed like they had escaped from a circus function. They quickly fixed their gaze on you "HEY! What the hell are you doing here?! You should be with the others!" said one of them as they quickly headed towards you. Your first instinct made you start running through the streets of the destroyed city and as expected those two individuals followed your steps running behind you at great speed. You gasped as you moved your head, directing your gaze behind you to see how close they were to you, you only managed to spot one of them, making you happy thinking that you had left one behind; but out of nowhere, you collided with something, falling backwards onto the dirty ground. You let out a groan as you watched who you had collided with was the other individual whom you thought you had left behind. "Well, well, look what we have here, a clever idiot who is not with his other little friends," muttered the first man as the second, who was behind you, aggressively grabbed your hair, forcing you to get up from the ground. "We're going to take you to your pathetic little village before you miss the show," he said, taking your wrists, keeping them together behind your back as they forced you to walk. What a mess you had gotten yourself into? Did they think you were part of the village? Were these people pirates? It made sense, just by looking at their clothes and how the city was. Damn, why did you have to have this bad luck? You had embarked on a village that had been taken over by pirates, of all things you could find, it had to be pirates, great..

The men took you to the port where you could see a huge pirate ship with purple colors decorated with golden details along the bow. Its sails had white and red stripes and the pirate skull that adorned the largest sail had a flashy red nose, which seemed to be that of a clown. In the middle of the ship was what looked like a big circus tent. Was that what the pirates meant by "losing the show"? You entered the tent and quickly a great chill ran down your spine at the sight of such a scene. The stands of what was a circus were full of people, whom you deduced were the people of this city. But what made your heart shrink was seeing them in terrible conditions, with handcuffs on their wrists and ankles, holding them in place. Their faces showed sadness and exhaustion. How could they do such a cruel thing? They had imprisoned children and the elderly, forcing them to watch a damn circus show. What kind of sick joke was this? The pirates who had brought you pushed you into one of the front row seats, making you sit down and quickly putting the same chains on you as the others. One of them took your chin, forcing you to look at his face, which was decorated with a cunning smile. "Enjoy the show, doll," he said. Then he aggressively let go of your face as he walked away laughing with his companion.

From one second to the next, without giving you time to blink, the lights went out and instead some spotlights made their appearance, moving from side to side while out of nowhere a large group of people came out, all dressed in a striking way, some juggling, others walking on stilts, some contortionist walking on stage moving their body in imaginable ways. You would have enjoyed it if you weren't in the situation you were in. A man passed in front of the audience, holding a large panel with the words "APPLAUSE" written on it and as if by magic the entire audience began to applaud.

"NO, NO, NO! Everything is wrong, everything is wrong!" could be heard from a distance as a clown? emerged from one of the central hallways. This man was undoubtedly the most attention-grabbing, wearing a large orange pirate hat with the same skull that was on the ship's sails in the center, two blue tassels hung on each side of the hat, a large jacket hung from his shoulders, which matched his hat due to the color, and some fur was attached to the opening of the jacket. His face was decorated with simple makeup, two blue lines above his eyelids that complemented his tassels, a bone cross on his forehead, his lips were colored with red paint, simulating that his smile was even bigger than usual, and finally his big, round red clown nose, was that thing real? "You are all damn useless! The contortionist should have come out after my appearance! Which should have been after the jugglers! Don't you know how to do damn things right!?" He muttered with great anger, causing the artists to shrink back at his screams.

"Wait a moment... That face looked familiar to you, that nose, that makeup, where had you seen it before? It seemed too familiar, but at that moment the information wasn't quite clear in your mind. The one who seemed to be the captain grunted irritably as he looked up, raising his arms and gesturing towards the same thing "And why the hell aren't the spotlights centered on the star of this damn show?!" Quickly, the main spotlight landed on the clown, who made him smile with sufficiency "That's much better. Your star has arrived, dear audience!" he said as the man from the poster quickly passed in front of the audience again, causing them to applaud again, everyone except you. Too lost in your thoughts trying to figure out where you had seen the pirate before, you didn't realize that the people had applauded, leaving you exposed among everyone else. Something that the captain did not overlook, his blue eyes fixed on you and he quickly approached you with furious steps, standing face to face, it was then that you came out of your memories, slowly raising your head to observe the man's face, who looked at you with annoyance and some curiosity "You... Why the hell haven't you applauded in my presence? Do you think you're some kind of rebel? Know, my dear, that that's going to get you in a lot of trouble" he said with a playful tone but certainly full of sadism. You swallowed, remaining silent before him, before the lack of response the man raised his eyebrow and his hands flew to your face, squeezing your cheeks tightly "Well, I want an answer... Unless the clown has eaten your tongue" he said in a playful way while the man from the poster took out another one where this time it said "LAUGHTER", the audience quickly began to laugh in a way that showed they were being forced. The clown made a serious face and moved his face away from yours, looking at the other spectators and finally at the poster man "Who said you should LAUGH?!" he said spitting angrily, causing the audience to fall silent in the blink of an eye, he turned his gaze back to your face, studying it carefully while the hand that held your cheeks moved from side to side, causing your face to move in the same way "Now that I think about it... It's the first time I've seen you..." "It's because I'm not part of this town" you finally said, looking at him as he seemed surprised by the sudden response, a smile formed on your lips as you released your cheeks "Whether or not you're part of this town, you must follow the orders given to you. Besides, you should be grateful to be enjoying the show of the Magnificent Buggy The Clown!" he said with an air of superiority and a big smile on his lips. Buggy... Buggy! There he was, that was it, you had seen this man on several posters of his search in your town for a high amount of money "I'm not going to applaud the show of a sadistic clown who has imprisoned an entire town for pure delight..." you said firmly to the pirate as you looked at him with disgust and anger. He looked at you again for several seconds, without a clear expression on his face, the silence piled up and broke when the man began to laugh out loud, as if what you had said had been the funniest joke in the world "Oh, but dear, my audience adores me, don't they?!" he said with that air of superiority while the audience quickly began to applaud, prey to the panic that something would happen to them if they didn't.

"They don't adore you! They're terrified because of you!" You said firmly, facing the fearsome pirate. He groaned in anger and grabbed your cheeks again, but this time in a much more aggressive way, feeling the fabric of his glove digging into your skin and sinking into your flesh. "Listen to me, you little brat! I'm not going to let someone like you ruin my show! So take back what you said if you don't want to regret it," he said in a serious and sadistic tone, his eyes fixed on yours. You swallowed hard and made a face, gathered saliva in your mouth, and spat it in the clown's painted face, causing him to close his eyes softly upon impact. The tension was palpable in the air as the clown remained motionless for a few seconds. His free hand passed over the trail of saliva on his face, picking up the fluid and looking at it on his glove for several seconds until a blow echoed throughout the tent. Buggy had slapped you with the hand he had used to pick up your saliva. You gasped at the impact, feeling the part of your cheek that had been hit start to heat up and turn red. He let go of your cheeks and grabbed a handful of your hair, pulling you up and forcing you to stand while he looked at you with a small smile. "So that's how it is... Well, untie her!" Several pirates quickly approached you, unchaining you from the seat. Buggy pulled your hair again, making you groan in pain as you followed his clumsy steps. The pirate put you in the middle of the stage, watching you with amusement. He took a few steps back, but strangely, you didn't move, and you still felt your hair being pulled. You looked up and your eyes widened as you saw his arm still on top of you, holding your hair. It was separated from his body as if it were a simple toy. Buggy laughed playfully at your expression of surprise and terror, raising the limb that was missing and was on your head. "Do you want to see what else I can do?" he said with a mischievous tone as he raised his other hand with a surprised expression. In that hand, the one that was still gloved, there was no arm, and you felt someone touch your shoulder. You turned your head in confusion and saw his other flying hand in front of you, which grabbed a red ball. He squeezed it, and a strange red smoke filled your face. You wrinkled your nose as you inhaled that strange pungent smell that filled your senses, and you felt your eyes starting to close due to a great feeling of sleep that filled your body as soon as you smelled that smoke. In the midst of this, you saw the flying hand quickly moving towards your face and hitting it, causing you to fall to the ground completely unconscious.

Buggy smiled amusedly at seeing you unconscious on the floor and made his hands return to his body. He caressed your wrists and rolled up his gloves as he knelt in front of you, gently stroking your cheek. He stood up and looked at two of his crew members, gesturing for them to take you. "Take her to the cells... I think I'll keep her, she's quite interesting," he said playfully as he watched your unconscious figure for the last time until the captain's subordinates took you and brought you to the cells as their boss had ordered. Buggy turned around, facing his audience while the spotlight was still on him. "Let the show go on!"

Pt.2

#buggy the clown #buggy one piece #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #one piece #opla #one piece x reader #one piece buggy #buggy x y/n #op #op x reader #one piece live action #buggy x female reader #x reader #opla buggy

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