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lovinglokilaufeyson · 1 year ago

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That’s What I Call Repressed Sexual Tension - A.A.

Pairings: Astarion x Fem!Reader (Paladin)

Warnings: 18+, Pining, Baldur’s Gate 3 Act I spoilers (I’ve only just now gotten to Act II), Smut (Sub!Reader x Dom!Astarion) – Fingering, P-in-V, Breast Fondling, NOT proofread, Astarion’s a bit of a perv – but still gentle, Fluff, Astarion is whipped (and calls you sickeningly sweet pet names), you’re kind of oblivious; I tried to make this as body-inclusive as I could, but still Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 4,230

Summary: You were nearly certain that you hated Astarion and Astarion hated you. Until one day, after battle, you decide to partake in a wash. So does Astarion, much to your surprise. The truth of yours and Astarion’s true feelings towards one another is revealed.

A/N: Hey guys, welcome to the new hyperfixation! Right now I’m doing a playthrough of BG3 and I’m OBSESSED with Astarion. I’ve also read quite a few stories on here, and felt the need to provide my own as well. Please let me know what you think! Expect to see more Astarion in the future on this page!

God, you loathed Astarion. Or so you thought.

He was a selfish, reckless, devious pig. And he knew it too.

Little did you know, Astarion’s behaviors were exacerbated due to, well, you. Obviously his aura of cocky arrogancy radiated regardless of who was around, but around you he felt the need to… cover, more. Secretly, he was quite smitten for you. But obviously, he didn’t need you to know that. You had just finished battling it out against the goblins, which had been a tiring battle. Now, you were headed back to Emerald Grove. “Darling, you know, you didn’t have to smite him. That was kind of a waste of energy for you” Astarion sauntered over, making a quip at you. “You know, Ass, we won, didn’t we? Does it even matter? We’re going back to camp now; I’ll be resting soon.”

Ass was the nickname that you had so lovingly given him one night after he had drunk from you for the first time. You woke up to find him leaning over you, fangs exposed, ready to press them against your neck. After you had willingly allowed him to continue, you woke up woozy and drowsy, almost unable to walk. He came to check on you, making fun of your trembling. “Wow, darling. Apparently I wasn’t the only one who got lucky last night.” He winked.

“Shove it, you ass.” You snapped back. “Eh, I’ve been called worse, I assure you.” “Well, say hello to your new nickname, Ass.” “Quite clever darling, it’s almost as if it’s a shortened ver-“ you cut him off. “You ever want a taste of my blood again, you shut your mouth.” He clamped his mouth shut almost instantaneously, his lips forming into an impressive pout.

Since that day, Astarion had been relatively whipped by you. The sight of you trembling, the actual kindness that you displayed towards him in allowing him his first taste of “thinking” blood. God, he would trade all of his meals just for a taste of your blood again. He hadn’t gotten a taste again, but he frequently inquired about the subject and whether or not you’d be willing to allow him to indulge yet again. The real reason he had even said anything about your energy level post-battle was due to the fact that he would prefer you to save your energy for other circumstances, namely him drinking your blood – or other things. Other, dirtier things.

The trek back to camp was long and tiring. But you were alive, and that was all that mattered. You had Karlach and Gale along with you as well, thankfully. So you weren’t alone with the vampire. Although, he would have preferred it that way. He was hoping that he would have a chance alone with you later in the evening. Typically, other members of the group would jump at the chance to simply be in your presence, so he rarely got the opportunity. Tonight would be different, he reassured himself.

You decided that this late afternoon would be a prime opportunity for a wash. You had slept for about an hour to regain your strength, and Shadowheart had used her magic to mend you. Of course, Astarion had kept a close eye on you to make sure you were alright. So, when you wandered off, Astarion followed. “She needs supervision” he had told the rest of the group. Then, he sauntered off after you, careful not to make his presence known. He was a stealthy one, that’s for sure, and it came in quite handy in situations like these.

The nearby pond was mostly still water, despite the glorious waterfall that fell from the rocks that formed above it, clearly streaming from a larger body of water nearby. The rocks were all fairly dark and gray. The pond itself had strikingly blue-green water, that was still clear mostly. There were spots where algae had developed and broken off, but the water still cleaned better than the majority that you had witnessed in your travels. This place had become your own personal spa, in a sense.

He watched from afar as you began to strip your clothing off. He hadn’t been able to make a full assessment on you yet, as he had only seen slivers of your bare skin between the top and the bottoms of your pajamas, although he always hoped to see more. And now, he was going to. Finally.

You began at the top, peeling the shirt from your bodice, revealing your bra underneath. It was a translucent-white, which effectively made Astarion’s breath hitch in his chest. He could have taken red, black, blue, whatever other color you desired. But – white? Gods, it made his mind wander. And his cock harden. He couldn’t help the way that you made him feel. He had spent too many nights alone in his tent, at least for his liking. Next to be revealed were your legs, which looked beautiful despite various scrapes, bruises and cuts scattered about them. His only wish now was to have them wrapped around him – anywhere and everywhere. Around his head, around his pelvis, around his legs as he cuddled you softly to sleep in his tent. Ran his hands through your locks. Kept on high alert – just in case. He always did, but it would feel more important if he had something so precious to protect.

Astarion’s daydreaming almost tore him from the sight in front of him. Almost. The next time he looked, you began removing your bra. “Oh Gods…” Astarion spoke, thankfully quietly enough to maintain the secrecy of his presence. Your breasts were no longer under their cover, and Astarion could hardly contain himself any longer. He cupped the bulge in his pants gently, he needed the slightest bit of friction in that area. The next to be revealed was your glorious heat, not entirely cleanly shaven, but clearly well-maintained.

It was within the next few minutes that you decided to indulge in the water, laying a towel out on a nearby rock for after your dip. He noticed you head towards the waterfall, your hips swaying generously for his eyes, and he almost let his focus falter. Astarion then made the decision to make his move, sliding his shoes off, then stripping himself of his pants, shirt, and underwear. He also made the conscious decision to sneak your own clothes away from the towel you had to delicately laid out, perfectly upon the rock. Just because he was mildly infatuated with you, didn’t mean he would play nice. In fact, it made him want to play even rougher.

You were fairly oblivious to the rogue in the shade, currently your only focus was relishing in the waterfall and running your hands through your hair, combing it out gently with your fingernails. It was the most relaxed you had felt in the past 24 hours. Little did you know, a certain rogue had set his sights on you – hoping to relax you even further.

The water was lukewarm from basking in the sun for the majority of the day. Exotic flora surrounded the pond, making it look inviting and tropical. However, some of the plants could be deadly, which kept both yourself and Astarion from getting close to them. Astarion glided himself into the water, careful to maintain quiet and stealthy as to not alert you to his presence – yet. He glanced at your bottom again, taking it all in. Soon, he hoped you’d be all his. If everything went as planned.

The water barely covered Astarion’s pelvis as he floated over to you. His fingertips played along the surface of the water, taking in the beautiful scenery. It wasn’t often that Astarion was able to do so. But now, he felt relaxed, yet almost – nervous? For what was to come ahead. It wasn’t often that Astarion felt unnerved in this way. You just meant so much to him. And he didn’t want to lose that. He began to contemplate his current choices and whether or not this would end poorly for you both. Perhaps you would be enraged, forcing him out of the party and never to speak to you again. Perhaps you would denounce his desires and state that you longed for someone else.

To his surprise, you yelped and jumped, trying to cover yourself as much as possible. You had seen him. You hid behind the waterfall, sinking further and further into the wall of stone. You covered your bosom with your arms, much to Astarion’s disappointment. Astarion’s confidence rose again, approaching your form behind the waterfall. “No need to hide away, darling. It’s just me, after all” he tutted. By the time he had crept fully into the other, more secluded side of the waterfall, you had sunk into the water, on your knees now, merely your head poking out of the water. Your eyes looked up at him almost submissively, which nearly made his knees buckle in excitement.

“What are you doing here, Ass? How long have you been here?”

“Long enough, my sweet. Just out admiring the view, washing up, you know.” As much as Astarion longed to tower over you, he needed to get down to your level. He sank down himself, until his eyes were meeting yours, just above the surface of the water. You were always quick to spit back at Astarion, but given the nature of the situation, you simply couldn’t. Any thoughts that you had about snipping at him were completely and entirely blocked out of your consciousness. Instead, you uncertainly inquired “how much did you see?”

“Oh Gods, dear. I’ve seen everything.” His response made you shutter, although the smirk placed upon his lips led you to believe that he was indeed happy about this fact. You wondered why. “Let me help wash you, petal?” You shifted for a moment, pondering the possibility. Astarion had already seen all of you, hadn’t he? You wondered for a moment whether or not to decline. Maybe he was just trying to be helpful, you thought. Your mind raced through a variety of complex and simple possibilities, trying to track each one. Astarion caught on to this, merely catching your attention with a “dove?” “I- uhm- oo-kay” you responded slowly beginning to rise out of the water, and Astarion followed. You kept your arms firmly planted around your breasts, careful not to reveal yourself too much.

Astarion stood behind you, washing your back with handfuls of the waterfall that he so gently placed on your neck, shoulder blades, and spine. “Darling, you do know I have seen those breathtaking breasts of yours, correct?” You nodded hesitantly in response, still in moderate shock from the present situation. You thought you absolutely detested Astarion, and he you. But, here he was, helping you wash blood and dirt off of your back, so – intimately. You had been intimate with people before, however, this felt slightly different. And it felt different to Astarion as well, unbeknownst to you. Good different. Slowly, you began to drop your arms from your breasts. Astarion watched intently as your nipples were freed once more, it was pertinent that they were chilled from their prominence. “You know,” he whispered into your ear from behind “if you are scared of anyone happening to see them – I could hold them on your behalf.” Astarion’s voice sounded as if it was winking at you. Truthfully, now that Astarion was aware of how shell shocked you were, he knew he needed to be gentle with you. At least at first.

“Uhm – well I – uhm well sure” you managed to stutter out. “Good girl” Astarion whispered into your ear once more, bringing his hands to play with your nipples. You let out a soft mewl at the sensation. “Ooh, you like that, don’t you love?” Astarion teased, tutting his tongue again. You nodded feverishly, although this did not seem to please him. “Use your words, beautiful.” “Yes, I do Astarion. I-It feels g-good.”

Astarion’s hand molded and palmed your breasts, and he went to speak. However, you had beaten him to it. “Pl-lease m-more” you begged. He took one of his hands, bringing it down to your heat. You were nervous, as you were fairly sure you were embarrassingly wet down there, and your body began to reflect that. “Darling, why are you shaking? Please, don’t give in for my sake, I want you to want this.” Astarion spoke with more care than he ever had with you. You turned to face him “Ass, you fool, of course I want this…” you had built up confidence to divert back to his nickname, which he was glad for. But then you remembered the reasoning for your timidness. You were dripping. “I- just- well- I- I am really wet.” Your cheeks reddened as you spoke, you felt yourself sinking back into timidness in front of him, but you had nowhere to hide “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for your desires, doll. I’m more than thrilled that I have been able to bring this out of you. That I have this effect on you. I was terrified of your rejection, darling girl.” Given Astarion’s newfound openness his emotions with you drove your desire for him to new heights. Your next move was to pull him into your lips, your hand wrapped around his neck as you did so. As your lips landed on his, you felt a rush of adrenaline surge through your body. Your confidence built once more, using your teeth to pull on Astarion’s bottom lip before finally releasing it. You winked, while Astarion stood in awe of your previous actions, finally stating “you cheeky little pup.” He took this opportunity to grab your waist, picking you up and lifting you out of the water. You yelped, surprised at his action. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. Astarion carried you over to where your towel lay, gently placing you down on it, then allowing himself to follow.

His leg hooked underneath you, and you willingly allowed it to push your legs apart so that he could hover between them. He leant down to place a gentle kiss upon your lips, which you welcomed. His lips were breathtakingly sweet and supple, you had felt them on your neck before, but that hardly amounted to the feeling you had now. Although his lips on your neck certainly did have the capacity to drive you mad. “Please Astarion, take me.” He wasn’t used to hearing the entirety of his name spoken from your lips. But it was a welcome thing to hear his full name fall from your lips. To know the full extent that you wanted him. Because he wanted you too. Desperately.

“Patience, my sweet.” He spoke, retreating from your form. You immediately tried to grab at him to pull him back, but then realized where he was headed. He tutted in response, speaking the word again “patience. Allow me to indulge in you.” Astarion’s lips peppered kisses along your upper thighs, before reaching his hands to assess the state of your heat. He used one hand to pull the folds of your labia apart, and the other to bring a finger to your clit. You were right, you were very, extremely wet. You whimper as his fingernail flicks across your clit. You tense, but his words bring you back down “relax, my dear.”

He spoke once more, this time with a proposition rather than a demand. “You can say no to this darling. But I would love to taste you, while I taste you.” “Huh?” For the first time, you were confused by Astarion’s words. “I would just place a little bite ‘here’ and ‘here’” he pressed into your inner thigh with two fingers, displaying where his fangs would penetrate your skin and release your sweet blood. “Then, I would drink from you while also sipping on your sweet nectar.” You nodded feverishly in response, eager for this stimulation that this would bring you. “Use your words, love.” Deviously, he placed his finger upon your clit, humming in contentment as he watched your body convulse in ecstasy in front of his eyes. “P-p-ple-ee-a-se.” You moaned out, barely able to make a single word out at this point. “I’m sorry, what was that dear? I couldn’t make that out.” “F-fuck y-you… t-te-ase.” “Oh, you will darling. You will. All in good time.”

“Bite me, Astarion. Plea-.” You finally gathered yourself together enough to state it, and you felt his fangs sink into you before you could even finish your sentence. You whimpered as he fed from your thigh, holding it down with one hand, the other arm resting on your opposite hip. Gods, you were delectable. You had brought your hands to tangle within his hair, gently massaging as he began. He suckled your skin, allowing him to intake more blood, but also causing your skin to latch closely to his tongue, where hundreds of blood vessels burst and petechiae formed, leaving a carmine-tinged love mark. A small “hmm” of pleasure left his lips as he pulled away, the circular marks that his teeth left were prominent, and bound to leave a mark. You felt woozy, similarly to the other times he had fed from you, but almost blissfully so this time. “Mmmm” the moan left your lips easily, flooding Astarion’s ears with pleasure. “You alright my love?” He peaked up at you, and you nodded. “Just a little lightheaded is all.”

“Alright, my sweet. If you need me to stop, just say the word.” You nodded as he brought his tongue to your clitoris, circling around it in a perfect spiral, suckling on it whilst savoring the taste of your sweetness. “Mmmm” you whimpered, which made Astarion’s instincts nearly feral in nature. He brought a hand to play inside of your heat, which was still rapturously wet for him. He started with one initially, and nearly moaned himself as he felt your walls clamp around just one finger. He began to imagine what it would be like to have your core wrapped around his throbbing member. Even though he had released it from his undergarments, he was still desperate from the friction only you could provide him with, the only thing that could give him relief. But right now wasn’t about him. It was very much about you, and him providing pleasure for you.

As if you could read his mind, you used his hair to pull him away from you. “Astarion, please, get inside me. Now.” You demanded. “Although you are in no position to make demands here, my sweet, I wholeheartedly agree with you.” “Yes, sir.” You agreed with him. In this particular position, Astarion was completely and utterly in control. And you think you liked it that way.

Astarion towered over you for a moment, analyzing every bit of your form. He let his eyes roam over your breasts, stomach, thighs, and then back to your slick core that ached for his entrance. And who was he to deny you such pleasure? He hovered over you once more, placing a quick yet compassionate kiss on your lips. His penis sat in between the folds of your labia, the member wettened from the contact. He grinded down ever so slightly, allowing pressure to be placed on your clitoris yet again. Then, with one swift movement, he slid back, and then within the muscular cavern of your vagina. “Fuck” you responded, you were ready for him, or so you thought. He was huge, and you weren’t sure the last time you had taken a lover. He held himself inside of you, his tip nestled against your cervix, waiting until he could proceed. “Gods darling, you’re so tight.” Astarion prompted. His pelvis pressed perfectly against yours, your thighs spread to make room for his shape.

Once your muscles had accommodated him, you looked up at him with dangerously innocent eyes and simply nodded. He took this as his sign to continue, sliding his length out of you slowly at first, and then pressing into you once again. “Mhhm” you moaned wantonly, writhing in delight. Astarion’s movements became more fluid, rocking his hips so that he moved in and out of you with ease.

You moaned over and over with his rhythm, and he pulled your legs over his shoulders, somehow enabling him to pound into you even deeper. Your core quenched around him, tightening around him even further. “Oh, sweetness. Can you take me inside of you?” He asked, and your response was a ferocious nod. “Please do” you whimpered. “Are you close, my love?” he asked, seemingly very concerned about you reaching climax together. “Mhmm love.” Astarion’s heart fluttered, knowing that you too, were close, and that the pet name he so loved throwing out could also be received.

After several more pumps inside of you, your muscles began to convulse, writhing around Astarion’s member, holding him more tightly than before. Your shaking released Astarion’s own pleasure, and he flooded your cavern with ropes of cum as you finished together. You moaned wantonly.

Astarion pulled out, allowing his fluids to begin dripping out of you. He placed a swift peck on your lips, then sliding next to you on the towel. “Gods, Astarion, that was phenomenal.” You spoke as you were finally able to catch your breath. You turned to face him. He placed a hand on your cheek, using his thumb to rub gently. “Thank you darling. That was… amazing.” His crimson eyes stared into yours, analyzing every breath, every possible thought going through that beautiful mind of yours.

“Tell me, what’s on your mind, my sweet?” Astarion inquired softly. Even though the intimacy you two had shared was incredible, he was still scared of the feelings – or lack thereof – that you may harbor for him. “Gods, I just- I didn’t think that would ever happen.” Astarion looked at you with a puzzled face, so you clarified, responding “I thought you hated me, and to be honest, I thought I hated you too, from how much we bickered.” “Ohhh, darling” Astarion sounded exasperated. “That’s what I call ‘repressed sexual tension.’” You smacked your face into your hands out of embarrassment. “I suppose you’re probably right” you mumbled. Astarion pulled you back upwards, placing a kiss on your forehead. “You’re just fine, my love.”

Your stomach rumbled, indicating to you that it would be desiring to eat soon. Astarion pulled you towards him, wrapping an arm around your bodice so as to keep you warm. That, and he knew that your time, for now, would be coming to an end soon. “Someone’s famished from battle today?” He asked, and you nodded. “I am quite much so, yes.” He savored himself in one final kiss on your lips. “Well darling, as much as I would love to lay here forever with you, I know you need nourishment to recover from today.” He winked.

“Yeah, yeah. One last thing before we go?” Astarion nodded, ushering you for your question. “What exactly are we?” You inquired. Your feelings were so jumbled you didn’t know what to think regarding the whole situation and where you were to stand with Astarion now. Was this just a once-off? What did he want from this? “Well, I had hoped that me marking you as mine would assert where I stand on the subject. I want you, in every sense of the word, my dear.” As he finished speaking, you had a giddy grin placed upon your mouth. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” You almost shrieked in excitement, but then decided to restrain yourself. You were adorable. Truly. “Will you come to my tent tonight, after everyone has fallen into slumber?” Astarion asked. “As much as I would love that, I’m really worn out from today, and I don’t know if I could-“ he cut you off “just for a cuddle, my love.” You nodded in response to this.

You began to rise, moving your hands around you, trying to find your clothing that was scattered by your towel. “Ass, where the hell are my clothes?” You turned to look at him, and he merely looked at you with a cheeky, blushed look on his face. “I can’t tell you it wasn’t me.” He winked. “Come on, please…” you begged. “They’re by mine, over by that rock over there.” He gestured to the rock that he had hidden behind. Astarion got up as well, grabbing the towel and wrapping it around your figures as you waltzed over to the rock and began to dress yourselves, Astarion taking extra time to admire you.

You walked back to camp, and Astarion shortly after. You didn’t want to make things so dreadfully obvious to your companions. The regular bickering commenced shortly after. But only you two knew what truly happened behind closed doors. Astarion finally had you, and that was like a dream to him. As he was unwinding for the night, and the stars had settled in the sky, he heard footsteps approaching his tent and your whisper, stating “Hey, love, I think everyone’s gone off to bed.” He eagerly approached the curtain, revealing your beauty behind it. “Come in, please, my darling.” Astarion was happier than he had been in 200 years, as long as he was with you.

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theseventhdimension · 1 month ago

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An Extrovert's Guide to Introvert Adoption

Pairing: Spencer Reid + Male! Reader (Platonic/ Familial)

Word count: 2.2k+

DNI: Fem Aligned

Author's Note: Dear reader, you're old in this, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel ancient, but here we are, staring down the cold, harsh reality of the "middle-aged" status.

Spencer’s doing it on purpose.

I swear.

(P.S. Don’t worry, I’ll be the one driving Spencer to bingo nights when he’s a hundred. I’ll be there with my arthritis medication and a collection of “I told you so"s.

Just make sure we’re both wearing comfy shoes :D)

The first time you saw the kid, he was fighting a losing battle with the ID scanner.

It was early, too early, and you were slouched in your chair, booted feet propped up on your desk, contemplating whether it was socially acceptable to take a nap in the bullpen. The morning briefing was still a ways off, and there was nothing pressing to do except exist in this particular moment of pure, unfiltered boredom.

That’s when you spotted him.

Fresh-faced, all long limbs and nerves, standing by the security door like he was squaring up for a duel. He held up his ID badge, swiped it, and?

..nothing.

He frowned, adjusted his grip, and tried again.

..Still nothing.

For a solid thirty seconds, you watched as he waged war against a piece of technology that had no business being this difficult. There was a certain… persistence to it? Swipe. Pause. Swipe again. Like sheer force of will would change the scanner’s mind.

You let it go on longer than you should have, mostly because it was entertaining, but eventually, pity won out.

“You gotta hold it still, kid.” your voice chimes out, deep with age and a smirk easily detected in your tone.

Spencer Reid startled, blinking at you through wire-rimmed glasses like you’d just materialized out of thin air, before looking at you like you’d just revealed the secrets of the universe. He tried again, this time pressing the badge against the scanner with exaggerated slowness. A beep, and the door unlocked.

“…Oh,” he said. His expression shifted through about three different emotions before settling on something close to reluctant gratitude. “Thanks..”

“You always this smooth?” you asked, smirking.

Spencer frowned, clearly missing the joke. “Not really. But actually, the average person takes three tries to properly align their ID badge with a scanner—”

You barked out a laugh. “Jesus, kid. I like you already.”

————

The thing about Spencer Reid is that he grows on you fast.

Maybe it’s the way he rattles off facts like a walking encyclopedia, or how he’s completely incapable of reading a room, but you take to him like a duck to water. He’s young.. too young for a job like this, too young for the darkness it drags along.

But he tries. He wants to help. And maybe that’s why you take to him so quickly.

At first, he’s hesitant around you, stiff and overly polite in a way that screams uncertainty. You’re rough around the edges, tattoos, leather jacket, the whole biker aesthetic, and you figure he probably doesn’t know what to make of you. But you’ve got patience, and besides, winning people over is something of a skill of yours.

It starts small.

You make sure he eats on long cases, tossing granola bars at him when he forgets. You listen—actually listen—when he spirals into a hyperfixation, whether it’s obscure mathematics or a book he just finished.

You start calling him “kid,” and after the first dozen times, he stops correcting you.

Somewhere along the way, without either of you meaning to, you become his person.

And somewhere along the way, without meaning to, you realize—

You’d ..practically adopted him.

One day, you’re just a coworker, a teammate—maybe even.. a friend, if you stretch the definition a little. The next, you’re watching his six in the field, making sure he remembers to grab his jacket before stepping into the freezing cold, and scowling at anyone who looks at him sideways.

It’s not a conscious decision. You don’t wake up one morning and think, "Yeah, I think I’ll unofficially adopt the awkward genius today!!!" It just ..happens?

Like when you notice he’s shivering at a crime scene because, of course, he didn’t think to bring gloves. You don’t say anything, just pull yours off and shove them at him. He hesitates for half a second before taking them with a quiet, “Thanks.”

Or when he gets so wrapped up in a theory that he forgets to drink the coffee you set down next to him until it’s gone cold. You start ordering two at a time—one for him to ignore, one to swap in when he finally remembers it exists.

Then there’s the first time you see him completely shut down after a case. It’s late, and the team is scattered across the jet, exhaustion weighing on all of you. Reid is curled into the corner of his seat, eyes fixed on the wall, but he’s not seeing anything.

You’ve seen this before. Seen it in people who’ve spent too much time in the dark, who’ve looked monsters in the eye for so long they start to feel like they might be one too. But he’s too young for this. Too young to be carrying ghosts in his bones.

So you nudge his foot with yours, not hard, just enough to get his attention. When he looks up, you nod toward the deck of cards in your lap. “Magic trick?”

He blinks. Hesitates. Then, slowly, a bit of light comes back into his eyes.

“…Okay.”

That’s the thing about Spencer. He never says it—never outright acknowledges that you’ve become something of a constant for him. But in the little things, the quiet moments, you know.

Like how he never forgets to bring an extra granola bar now, tossing it to you with a half-smirk and a muttered, “Since you’re so concerned about my eating habits.”

Or how, when you took a hit in the field and brushed it off as nothing, he’d spent the next three days hovering, arms crossed, a frown deep enough to carve itself into his face.

Or the time you got back late from a case, dead on your feet, and he’d wordlessly dropped a book on your desk the next morning with a sticky note: Thought you’d like this one.

You pick it up, flipping through the first few pages, and shake your head with a grin. Damn kid.

Without meaning to, without either of you saying a word about it, Spencer Reid has become yours. your kid, almost.

————

The case is brutal.

A father, a son, and the kind of horror no kid should ever have to endure. The unsub is caught, but the damage is already done, and it sits heavy on Spencer’s shoulders. You see it in the way he avoids eye contact, how his fingers twitch like they’re turning invisible pages of a book only he can see.

“Spence.” Your voice is softer than usual as you approach his desk. “Walk with me.”

He hesitates, but follows. You take him outside, past the office and the noise, to where the air is cool and quiet. He doesn’t speak, just stares out into the night like he’s somewhere else.

“My dad left when I was ten.” His voice is small. “I—It’s not the same, I know. But I keep thinking… what if I had been older? What if I could’ve stopped him?”

You exhale, leaning back against the wall. “Yeah. I get that.”

Spencer looks at you, eyes searching. “Do you?”

You nod. “I used to think I had to hold everything together, too. That if I tried hard enough, people wouldn’t leave.” You let out a slow breath. “But it doesn’t work like that, kid. You can’t carry that weight on your own.”

He swallows, and for a long moment, neither of you speak.

Then, finally, he nods.

You don’t say anything, just clap a hand on his shoulder and squeeze.

You stay like that for a while, both of you leaning against the wall, the quiet settling between you like an unspoken understanding. The air is crisp, cool against your skin, but Spencer doesn’t seem to notice. His hands are shoved deep into the pockets of his slacks, fingers still twitching, still caught in the endless loop of thoughts that won’t let him go.

“You know,” you say after a moment, shifting your weight, “there’s this thing my old man used to say. He was.. kind of an ass, honestly." You huff out, smirk and pain prevalent on your face. "But every once in a while, he had a point.”

Spencer glances at you, wary but listening.

You tilt your head back, looking up at the city lights.

“He used to say that some people are just made for carrying other people’s ghosts. That they don’t ask for it, don’t want it, but they can’t help it. They see the wreckage and think, 'Maybe if I pick up the pieces, no one else has to'.”

Spencer doesn’t say anything, but his hands still.

You glance at him. “You do that, you know. You carry people. Their pain, their losses. But what happens when it gets too heavy?”

His throat works around a swallow. “I don’t know.”

“Well, you better figure it out.” Your voice is softer than your words, but it makes him flinch anyway. You sigh, rubbing a hand over your face before continuing.

“Look, kid, I know how your brain works. I know you’re going to go home and replay this case in your head a thousand times, looking for a different outcome. But there isn’t one. You did your job. You caught the guy.”

Spencer exhales, a shaky thing that barely passes as a breath. “It’s not enough.”

“No,” you admit. “It never is.”

The words hang between you, thick with the weight of every case before this one, every crime you’ve been too late to stop. But eventually, the world keeps spinning, and you keep moving forward, because that’s all there is.

“You’re not alone in this, you know.” You give his shoulder another squeeze, grounding, steady. “We carry it together.”

Spencer doesn’t respond right away, but you don’t need him to. The way his shoulders drop just slightly, the way his hands go still, it’s enough.

After a moment, he huffs out something that’s almost a laugh. “I suppose that’s an empirical statement.”

You snort. “Jesus, Reid.”

A pause. Then-

“…Thanks.” It’s quiet, almost lost to the night, but you hear it.

You nod. “Anytime, kid.”

And somehow, even with the weight of the world pressing down on both of you, it feels just.. a little bit lighter.

(Extra :p)

“I am not that old!”

JJ stifles a laugh, and even Hotch looks amused as you scowl at the massive ‘OVER THE HILL’ birthday banner draped across your desk.

Spencer, ever the instigator, tilts his head with that all-too-innocent look he always gets right before he says something that will definitely annoy you. “Technically speaking, the term ‘middle-aged’ applies to individuals between the ages of—”

“Kid.” You point a finger at him, narrowing your eyes. “Choose your next words very carefully.”

He grins—an actual, genuine grin—and you can practically see the gears turning in his head. “I mean, statistically speaking, the average lifespan for someone in your… uh, demographic would put you—”

“Spencer, I swear to God, if you finish that sentence, I will put you in a chokehold before you can even say ‘ageism.’”

The grin only grows, and JJ has to cover her mouth to hide her laughter. Hotch just shakes his head, arms crossed as he watches the exchange like he’s fully aware that Spencer’s days of life-threatening innocence are numbered.

You start clearing away the ridiculous amount of decorations that have seemingly exploded across your desk—balloons, streamers, and a cake that could feed a small army. You throw a glance at the clock. “I swear to God, if one more person sings Happy Birthday to me today…”

Spencer pipes up, “You’re still getting older. It’s an unavoidable—”

“Kid!” you bark, and this time, he raises his hands in mock surrender.

“Fine, fine. I’m just saying, statistically speaking, your risk of developing certain age-related ailments increases—”

“STOP. PLEASE.” You cover your ears, stumbling backward as if the mere mention of your so-called “middle-aged” status is physically painful.

JJ can't hold it in anymore. She bursts into full-on laughter, barely able to breathe as she clutches her sides. “He’s just messing with you!”

“Yeah, yeah,” you mutter, swiping a streamer off your shoulder and tossing it in the trash. “But when he’s a hundred, I’m gonna have to start taking him to bingo nights.”

Hotch, now cracking a smile, finally speaks up, “It’s probably for the best. You’ll need someone to keep track of your forgetfulness when you start getting really old.”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny.” You flip Hotch off without even looking at him, shaking your head as you finish clearing the decorations. “I hate you all.”

Spencer, still gleaming with that infuriatingly innocent look, leans in, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “You do know that birthdays actually—”

“Do not say it,” you warn him, your tone sharp, but with a smile that betrays your amusement.

“—mark the passage of time, and—”

“I swear to God,” you threaten, pretending to lunge at him, but Spencer only laughs harder, his voice light and unrepentant.

As the rest of the team laughs along, you finally let yourself relax, taking in the absurdity of it all. You’ve spent your life dealing with killers, criminals, and chaos—and now, here you are, losing a battle to a bunch of stupid birthday decorations. You can’t help but shake your head, grinning despite yourself.

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #x male reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x male reader #spencer reid x reader #x gn reader #spencer reid x gn reader #x reader #platonic #found family #reader insert #criminal minds x male reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fics #criminal minds fic #Seventh Writes

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mcyt-gender-showdown · 2 months ago

Text

A SECOND, SMALLER PRINCEZAM AND HER DOG MAPICC HAVE BEEN CAST INTO THE FUCKING FLAMES FOR THEIR GENDER CRIMES

the poll is OVER you’ve all failed me far too many times. our beloved finalist(s) have been rocketed into a volcano cause foxtrot is over this damn poll and does not wish to post the finals we all know who would’ve won. see you next year here’s a comprehensive list of everything that happened to me that interfered with the running of this poll: (cw there’s some heavier stuff)

-found out we’re a system

-started college

-learned to drive

-got insane seasonal depression

-more college

-exams (college)

-got broken up with and ghosted

-brain split like 87 new guys to deal with the stress and seasonal depression

-january.

-got diagnosed with scoliosis

-getting checked out for a chronic pain condition

-people being weirdos in my notes

-cut my hand open the other day

-friend is currently on suicide watch

-another friend has been experiencing the Horrors and has been quiet (sad)

-got hyperfixated on like 8 different non-mcyt things and lost interest (my bad)

-had a medical issue and almost crashed my car

-probably some other stuff that i forgot.

#see you all next year i guess #mcyt gender showdown #not a poll #princezam #mapicc #tw fire

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in-halingstardust · 10 months ago

Note

Hiiii congrats on your milestone!!! Here's to more in the future!!! may I have a match up? Super spicy edition!!! I am afab pussy boobs and all (I use they/them but they're optional!!) with a preference to guys but girls are great too!! For Kinks I don't like my partner being mean to me (very sensitive person emotionally) but I don't want them being too gentle either!! I can handle rough treatment but they should still be mindful of my limits and stop if things have gone too far since I can't tell my limits either 😅 (which is a discussion I had multiple times with my partner) So basically a service Dom through and through. Im a bit of a tease but not a brat so my partner doesn't have to worry about that LMAO

A very important thing to note is that I also very much enjoy monster fucking JDJEJEJWJW okay that's all!!

I FORGOT TO QUE OMG SORRY ANON!

Also monster fucking is also one of my favorite pastimes *cough* hyperfixations *cOUgh* i mean- stories I enjoy reading hehe. I think I'm going to write a small drabble other than your request one day so be on the look out for that this is just a taste! ₊⊹♡

I'm going to pair you with Aventurine!

Aventurine has always been a high stakes gambler. The smaller the odds the higher the payout. A ride or die type of high that you could never get enough of.

Your relationship to the public dazzles like diamonds under spotlights. The way he buys you imitation flowers handcrafted from gems and blown glass, the way you’re always adorned in gold necklaces and earrings as he holds you close by the waist.

What are you thinking of, my lucky girl? He whispers, hand caressing your thigh underneath the betting table throwing a handful of chips in. He’s not even counting the value but the gasps coming across the table means it must be a hefty amount. You promised if he won big you let him do anything to you tonight.

Anything.

It’s a win, red 37, the number of credits keep going up and up. You’ve never seen that many zeros before in your life.

❥ You promised and now it’s time for fun~. Aventurine says behind closed doors, leaving bruised kisses from your jaw down to your collarbone. A sign of possession. He’s not gentle in the least, not that you mind. The way he opens you up with his fingers cooing at the sight of you struggling to take another one. He likes it when you're sucking on your mess after you cum.

❥ Overstimulated, broken a mess on the bed is the state you currently at when he truly starts to appropriately ‘fuck your brains out’.

↪You see the crackling of Preservation run through him through bleary eyes. The way his body grows and become more full, his voice having the tingle of mania behind it as he lines up to thrust fully into you.

↪It’s bigger than ever before, you're almost glad for the amount of times you came before as he stretches you out more than your body should take.

❥ Fucking you is a different story as he grips your wrists before slamming back into you. Your body is in rhythm with his the entire night.

#.inhalingthoughts #honkai star rail smut #hsr smut #hsr aventurine #aventurine smut #aventurine x reader #you will def see more aventurine fics from me #i actually got some in drafts

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russsiangirl · 11 months ago

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art donaldson x reader headcanons ( both young and dilf art.. ) both banners by me!

starting off strong with young art ( heheh )

i feel like y'all met for a goofy reason

either he asked you for a piece of gum in a class because he ran out

that boy NEEDS his gum he can't live without it ( oral fixation? idk )

OR he saw you on the tennis court when you were meeting up with a friend of yours

you had heard of him of course, he had won the one tournament with his friend

but,, he sadly had his eyes on tashi duncan, not that you could exactly blame him, you've seen her - all lean muscle and tan skin.

that is until tashi starts dating patrick

he's kinda like a kicked puppy , a very jealous one

he's desperate to get his mind off of them, so he finds you

you're perfect for him, you're sweet, pretty, kind. but you're also pliable.

art's seen the way you'd look at him with those pretty eyes when he asked you a question, the way you would slightly stumble over your words

he would wanna laugh sometimes, not in a mean way, more of a 'how cute..' kinda way, yk?

he's a mastermind,, maybe manipulative but that just makes it better

he taps your shoulder one day and is like "hey so would you like,, wanna go out sometime?"

now you thought that he was just gonna ask for help with the assignment, but this- this was unexpected, but good. really good.

you obviously say yes & it goes great! after a couple dates you two start something that resembles a relationship

art is a sweetheart, buying you gifts, treating you to dinner when he can, taking you to his games - model boyfriend!

he loves being romantic and spending quality time with you

also double dates with tashi & patrick ( tension )

you notice the way patrick looks at art and you suspect something. had something happened between them?

you had heard about how tightly-knit the two of them were and something just didn't seem right

so after the date and you two go back to the dorm or wherever y'all are staying you ask him what was up with him and patrick

art shuts down, not saying anything and goes completely silent.

he's not one to talk about things like these or his past

art likes to talk as much as he loves to listen

like if you found a new interest and/or hyperfixation he would listen to you and find so endearing

he loves the way you get so excited and you just beam at him whenever you do something that makes you happy, it makes him just as equally happy

art also loves when you wear his clothes, he finds it funny how they drape over you since he's like six foot.

art does like being praised ( take that as you will ) but when you're reassuring him, especially after his games or practice or anything he just wants to shower you with all the affection he can muster <3

this is my late fathers day present to y'all.. enjoy

ah yes, art as a father, my favorite

he's not married at this point ( sadly no tashi, they got divorced )

he's a lot more tired than he was back in college, obviously

y'all definitely met at some sort of event, you were a reporter for a sports magazine who had sent you to cover whatever it was that you were there for

you just didn't know it would involve art

when you first see him, you didn't really know what to expect - but not this

art with his short-cropped sandy hair and pretty blue eyes and blonde lashes, he looks ethereal, almost like he doesn't belong here

he was distracted most of the interview, too distracted by you with your sweet voice and nice hands and silly questions

so you two rescheduled, over dinner! win-win, you get to spend more time with him and you get your job done

the two of you connect really easily and you agree to do this again, without the interview part

there's something about the two of you thats so entrancing to each other

IMAGINE WITH AN AGE DIFFERENCE

like you're 21 - 22 and he's like 32.. it only makes him crave you more, he can show you things you've never seen

you might be a bit skeptical, but art is telling you that you can trust him, he won't push boundaries, none of that and you do trust him

he does let you meet lily eventually and when you do, you're enamored with her, she's so sweet and you could see art in her

you knew about his past relationship with tashi, but you didn't mind

but older!art is also romantic, sure the paparazzi is interested in the two of you - so most of the dates are at home. he likes it better that way

ough,, this was a LOT - late father's day present yk.. i love you guys - enjoy this! like and follow if you enjoyed these hehe

#challengers 2024 #challengers movie #art donaldson #writing #mike faist #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #stanford university #headcanons #art donaldson headcanons #akilina talks!#mike faist challengers #challengers

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the-kr8tor · 2 months ago

Note

Katy 👀 my birthday is coming up soon

May I request our baby Kitt being older and getting ready to address some politicians at a televised town meeting or rally and just inadvertently roasting the hell out of them with his questions 🤣 bonus points if Hobie and the twins are just cheering him on in the background

- 😅

@hyperfix-wip baby Kitt!! I hope you like it! And belated happy birthday to you, twin! ❤️❤️❤️ Ps. I don't know anything about uk politics so don't quote me on some of the details 🤣

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 4.2k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, parent AU, mum! Reader, dad! Hobie, twin AU, Billie and Ramona, Kitt, CW food mentions, fluff!

Navigation

It's election year once again, and the senators are on their campaign trail. The city hosts the debate event to entice the whole city to vote, and watch the younger generation grill the politicians. And it's a chance for the politicians to prove themselves against a bunch of children and maybe sway the votes their way. It's Kitt's debate team who are chosen this year, granted it's not exactly the academy awards, but people go out of their way to come and support the kids. Usually it's an uneventful debate, but sometimes, on rare occasions, it turns into something you'd see in a presidential debate where the kids don't back down from whichever politician they're beating up with words.

“Got the camera, dad?” Ramona asks as she hops off the car and out into the town hall meeting. “We need to record the exact moment the sweat starts beading down his ugly face.”

“Mona, we don't call people ugly.” You tell your fourteen year old while Hobie helps you unbuckle your seatbelt. You've told him a thousand times that you can do it yourself, but he has developed a habit of it ever since you two started dating. It's a habit that he refuses to shake off.

“Sorry, mum.”

“Yeah, because he can't help it.” Hobie murmurs as he clicks the seatbelt off while he's still reaching over the console and giving your shoulder a chaste kiss.

“Hobie.” You chastise him but you can't help the smile appearing on your lips.

“What? Politicians are an exception, love.” Chuckling, knowing that he has won, he leaves the car and quickly makes his way to your side to open your door. All without missing a beat and before you could even pull the handle yourself. He's still smooth years later. Holding out a hand to you, he helps you get out of the family car. “Got the camera?”

“I thought you got it?” Your face falls, and Hobie grins, patting his back pocket. “Is this revenge for eating your yogurt?” You roll your eyes, smacking his bicep playfully. Still lean and full of muscle just like ten years ago.

“No, I don't hold grudges.”

“Says the man who always reminds me to always lock the back door with that same smug look.” You poke his cheek while your three children groan right behind him. Wincing, you give them an apologetic look as you hop down from the well loved van.

You notice that Kitt looks clammy in his suit you perfectly tailored just for him. Maybe he's still irked by how you almost made him late by taking numerous pictures of him, and with the family. He looks adorable in the dark three piece outfit, even though he specifically asked you to make him as menacing as possible for the debate. You can't help but pat his cheek and coo at him, making the youngest Brown swat your hand away.

“There was a bloody deer, love. It almost ate Billie's hair.”

“That's true. And she has a name y’know.” Billie says seriously, if you didn't know your daughter you'd think she was actually serious about it.

“Oh yeah, what's her name?” Mona loops her arm around Billie's as they walk towards the city hall. She gives you a look, signalling you that they're gonna go ahead and find a seat for everyone. You're so attuned to your girls that the three of you can have a wordless conversation.

“Uh, Darlene the deer? Duh!”

“Very convincing, Bee.” Their playful chatters wavers off as they go ahead inside the venue.

You don't worry too much as their figures shrink away into the crowd, knowing that they can handle themselves and they have the place memorized because they've been in the same place as their little brother in the debate club a few years ago. They've got the medals to prove it.

Hobie, always the charmer, holds your hand, and pats Kitt's head with the other, very careful not to ruin the hair they both painstakingly did for two hours this morning. Despite the comforting touches from you and Hobie, he still looks like he's about to faint in the parking lot. Add the fact that your chatterbox of a son is now quiet as a mouse, it's cause for concern.

Hobie gives you a look, brows pinched together and lips clamped shut. “You alright, little spider?” He leaves your side and crouches down to his height. Kitt is smaller compared to other kids his age, maybe his growth spurt courtesy of Hobie's genes; isn't coming in just yet. He is still only nine years old, or what he always says ‘nine and a half.’ Hobie's back is all scrunched up, boots folding but he doesn't seem to care while his attention is fully on his son.

“Dad.” He whines, lips frowning and pursed together. His expression reminds you of Hobie when he saw you eating his yogurt. “I told you I don't like gettin' called little spider anymore.”

“Alright then, Kitty.”

Kitt sighs and stomps his foot at the childhood nickname that his sisters gave him when he was barely a day old. “I don't like that either.” His frustration rolls off of him, making your instincts go off.

Hobie glances at you, now fully worried. “Sorry, what's botherin’ you, hm?” He gently rubs his son's arm, voice gentle and soft, one he reserves only for his family.

“I—” Kitt frowns deeper, your own eyes staring at you with tears building up in his lashes. “I don't know, dad.”

You crouch down next to Hobie, and Kitt immediately goes to your side and half hugs you. He hides himself or tries to as he forgoes getting embarrassed in front of so many people to hug his mum.

“Are you scared?” You ask softly as you rub his back. “It's okay to be scared, you know.” Eyes flicking towards Hobie, you can feel his heart cracking at the sight of his little boy looking so small and terrified in your arms. It reminds him of his own childhood.

“I know,” Kitt sniffs but hides his tears with a calculated wipe with his sleeve. “It's not like the same scared when dad was teachin’ me how to swim.”

“Where do you feel it, Kitt?” Hobie asks, one hand holding onto the small of your back and the other on Kitt's shoulder. “In your stomach?”

Your son nods, cupping his belly as you feel a tear slide down your shoulder.

“You're anxious, and that's normal.” Hobie winces when his youngest climbs onto your lap and you're forced to sit on the pavement. Good thing you're not wearing white or a skirt. “Kitt, it's alright, yeah? We know you prepared for this, you're ready.”

“What if I stutter? Just like durin’ nationals.” Kitt lifts his head up from your neck, cheeks wet and eyes shining under the sun. “Or what if I say something and he gets mad?”

“If you do stutter, you'll catch your words again, I know you will.” You accompany Hobie's words with a squeeze around Kitt's middle. His hands are sweaty on your shoulders, and his tear stained cheeks almost makes you want to carry him home. Almost. “And if he gets mad at you, he won't do anythin’, he's all bark and no bite, remember? Just like we practiced and researched.” He ducks to meet with his son's downturned eyes. “Just take a deep breath, inhale and exhale.”

“You'll do great, baby.” You reassure as you press a sweet kiss on Kitt's temple. “We'll be right there in the audience and if you feel stage fright just imagine that it's just us watching you.” Giving him another squeeze, you and Hobie can practically see his head churning.

“‘m just—” Kitt frowns deeply again, emotions swirling around him. “What if he does somethin’? He's so powerful, just like what we read.”

“Oh, sweetheart, is that what you were worried about?” Embracing Kitt, you cup the side of his head as if you're protecting him from unseen dangers.

Hobie smiles softly, a calloused thumb wiping away the tears. “Osborn was too, and dad stopped him didn't I?” Eyes shining, Hobie wraps an arm around him. “He won't do anythin' to us,” Hobie nudges Kitt, voice low and gentle. “If he does, he won't get close.”

Kitt's eyes widen, looking up at Hobie for comfort while you continue to hold him. “You'll go all Spider-Man on him?” He whispers.

“For him? I'll go Prowler.” You know that Hobie's completely serious. He's ready to don the other suit if it gets to that point. And this time, instead of protesting the appearance of the other vigilante from bygone days, you nod.

A smile slowly spreads across Kitt's face, expression brighter as he laughs. “No, you won't, dad.”

You play along, wiggling Kitt and laughing with him. Hobie smiles, but his previous comment lingers above you and him. “It's silly, right?”

“Very silly.” Kitt inhales deeply and untangles himself around you to hop off your lap. “Thank you, mum.” Giving you one last squeeze as he hugs you, you look over his shoulder to beam at Hobie while giving a thumbs up.

“No thanks to your old man?” Hobie opens his arms and Kitt chuckles as he goes over to his dad. He immediately embraces Kitt, shaking him in place until his boyish laughter echoes around the parking lot.

“Thanks, dad.” Kitt says in between giggles as Hobie lifts him up and carries him like he's still a two year old who was begging to be carried.

Hobie gives you a helping hand up while he balances Kitt on one arm, all the while his son tries to escape his grasp. You take his open palm with a smile. He then lifts you up on your feet and as you spring up, you quickly put your arms around them and press a kiss on Kitt's cheek.

He remembers to be embarrassed now as he makes a face and manages to escape from his dad's hold. “C’mon, Bee and Mon are waitin' for us.” He walks ahead of you and Hobie, making sure he looks both ways before crossing.

“Don't go too far, Kitt!” You exclaim and you see him walk slower for you to catch up but when he sees a teammate, he's running away towards them. “Great,” you sigh as Hobie wraps an arm around your waist, guiding you inside the venue. “Did we do good, Hobs?” Your shoulders sag as you lean on him.

“He's smilin’ now, lovie, ‘m sure we did.” Pressing a chaste kiss right on your temple, he resists the urge to kiss you again. “He'll do great.” As if reading your mind, he tugs you closer and squeezes your hip lovingly.

“Were you really serious about bringing *him out again if that happens?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper as you two follow behind Kitt who was greeting every teammate, teachers, and parents he knows.

“Yes.”

You don't know why but the single word has the butterflies in your stomach fluttering around.

He leans towards the shell of your ear, whispering as his voice gets lower. A tone he only reserves just for you. “The Prowler can still come out even without a threat, y’know.”

Glancing at him, you smile, eyes conveying something the two of you only know. “I heard that his stuff is in the attic right next to the boxes of VHS tapes.”

Hobie's lips curl into a playful smile, mind taking note of the information.

—

It didn't take long for you and Hobie to find the twins in the venue. After dropping off Kitt backstage with another comforting hug and encouraging words, you almost immediately found your girls sitting right in the middle of the theatre with their bags on each seat they reserved just for you and Hobie. It's impossible to miss them with Billie's sparkling eyelids and Mona's frantic waving at the both of you.

Hobie's hand stays on your back while the two of you wiggle your way into your seats. The girls remove their bags off the chairs and scooch over to sit next to each other so you and Hobie could make kissy faces at each other without bothering them. Their words, not yours. They're not entirely wrong as Hobie's chin is perched on your shoulder while his hand idly draws shapes on your palm.

“There aren't any snacks in here?” Billie cranes her neck around to look for a vendor walking around.

“Bee, this isn't a football game.” Mona says, hand placed on her sister's shoulder to make her sit back down.

“They should have popcorn at least, with the beatdown that's about to happen.”

“I have cookies and tootsie rolls with me.” You say as you rummage through your purse that Hobie calls a black hole because he can never find what you asked him to get inside.

“Mum to the rescue.” Billie sighs dramatically as she reaches over Mona to grab the packet of cookies. “Thanks, mum.” Mona swats her away from her lap, making Billie giggle.

“How about you, mon-mon? Tootsie rolls?”

“Yes please, I'll share with dad.” She hands Hobie a piece, but he's too focused on the stage right where Kitt appears from backstage and into the debate team table. “Dad? You want some?”

You rub the back of his neck, smiling at him when he turns to you. “Mona's asking if you want some candy.”

“Sure, cheese.” Hobie smiles at Mona, who places a piece on Hobie's palm. He returns his attention back towards the stage, eyes honing in on Kitt who roames his eyes around the crowd as he tries to find the familiar faces.

“You want some too, mum?”

“No, thanks, baby, I'm good.” You take the candy from him and unwrap it. “He’ll be okay, Hobs.”

Hobie exhales, and opens his mouth for you to pop the candy in. With a chuckle, you toss it inside. “I know, I just hope he's not scared anymore.”

“He probably is, but he'll push through.” Cupping his cheek, Hobie gives your palm a kiss while your voice turns a softer tone. “Just like his dad, hm?”

“And his mum.”

Your heart swells as he stares at you softly. Just as you're about to get lost in his eyes, you see Kitt waving at you from your peripheral. Nudging Hobie, the two of you wave back. Mona does the same, giving him a double thumbs up.

“Let's go, Kitt!” Billie exclaims and Mona had to slink down on her seat from second hand embarrassment. You and Hobie chuckle as you look at your daughter with pride. “What? ‘m encouragin’ him.”

“Oh, you are, sweetheart.” Holding your hand out to her, she once again reaches over Mona to give you a squeeze while Hobie takes the opportunity to grab a cookie from her packet.

Kitt's grin from the stage shines brightly, seeing him looking better than he did back in the parking lot has you grinning back. “Let's go, Kitt!” Cupping your hands over your mouth, you cheer him on.

Hobie laughs and joins along while Billie laughs in her seat. “Knock ‘em dead!”

Mona looks like she wants the old theatre seats to swallow her whole. You place an arm around her, and she immediately hides her face on your side.

“I should've stayed at home.”

—

It's been thirty minutes since the event was supposed to start, and the politician is still nowhere to be seen on stage. They even played the national anthem without him. And yet the camera crew stays behind to film the whole thing, together with a known local journalist who will be the event's announcer. You could only hope that Kitt isn't too camera shy.

“Where's that wanker?” Hobie hisses in place.

“I already finished my cookies.” Billie sighs and pockets the trash. “At least Kitt looks calm.”

“He's in the zone.” Mona says, “he's going to destroy the guy when gets in.”

“When he gets in. He probably cancelled at the last minute.” Just as Billie says it, the blue suited man comes walking from the side of the stage to scattered applause. His security detail watch on from the sides and guards the doors.

“Thank you!” The blonde man takes the podium a few ways away from Kitt's table, waving to the crowd. The spotlights shine on him while the screens in the background show off the flag. It all makes Hobie's eyes roll. “Sorry I'm late, traffic.” He gives the crowd a smile that he always wears during the campaign, one that clearly isn't sincere from how his eyes are still and blank.

“That's it? That's his excuse?” Billie says and Mona shushes her sister. Billie flicks the shell of her ear in retaliation.

You can feel Hobie seething in his seat. The pleasantries start as the announcer welcomes everyone and presents the people on stage.

“Senator Robinson, welcome.” The mc greets him with a polite smile. “And of course our very own debate team from west London!” She says their school's name enthusiastically. “To start off, can you introduce yourself, senator?”

The suited man drawls his name on his tongue, eyes sharp as he greets the debate team who look at him with polite and curt nods. They'll dismantle him later, for now it's only pleasantries.

You inhale deeply, hands wringing together. Hobie cups both of your hands in his own, warmth seeping through you from his touch. He gives you a reassuring smile, leaning briefly to give you a chaste kiss to your temple. You hum thankfully as you squeeze his hand.

“It's my pleasure to be here. I always love helping out the children with their studies, just like in my platform where I'm planning to reform the after school programs.” The spotlights shine on him as he waits for applause, a few scattered claps reverberate in the near silent room. “Well, it's an honour to debate with you kids, how are you all doing? I hope you won't pull your punches!” He jokes, and a few chuckles can be heard. Kitt looks like he isn't having any of it.

“It's good to be here, senator.” A teammate of Kitt smiles tightly, her eyes shining under the harsh lighting. As the leader, she introduces herself and her fellow teammates and their team's achievements. Her serious demeanor is a far cry from how you last saw her at Kitt's birthday party where she ate a whole muffin in one go.

A hearty applause echoes around the venue. Billie even makes her claps louder and Mona makes sure that her sister doesn't scream out Kitt's name by glaring at her as a warning.

The announcer gestures towards the home team to start off the debate without any further delay. The leader glances at Kitt wordlessly, and you're on the edge of your seat.

The spotlights shine in his eyes, narrowed briefly as silence floats inside the place. Kitt glances at where his family is sitting, you and Hobie give him a comforting nod whilst his sisters beam at him. He inhales and stares directly at the senator, practically glaring at him. His expression reminds you of Hobie back when he was still the prowler. Hobie seems to share the same thought as he purses his lips and squeezes your hands.

“Senator.” The man smiles at Kitt briefly. “You said you're in for education and the children—”

“That's true.”

“Then why did you vote to cut the education budget durin’ your last term?” A collective gasp reverberates around the amphitheatre. You can feel Hobie trying to stifle a laugh right next to you. “Because of your vote, we didn't get a field trip to the museum like always, our after school programs are barely existent. Not to mention that because of you, our teachers still struggle to make ends meet.”

“Is that our son?” You mumble, blinking as you see the same kid you used to chase around the house to get a lizard from his hands. “Holy shit.”

“That's our son, love.” Hobie whispers to you, absolutely proud of his son as he watches Kitt speak like he owns the place.

“Is that bein’ for education, senator?” He finishes off. If only he had a mic to drop without damaging public property.

He catches the politician off guard. “W–Well, that's a very good thing to point out. You really don't hold your punches, huh?” He chuckles nervously and without humour. “And there was a very good reason for it, I had to vote yes on the budget cut so we could build a dam that saved a dozen rural areas during the last drought.” Chuckling, he once again waits for applause. “You lose some, you win some.” Eyes flicking at Kitt, you can see his jaw tightening.

“But this time, I'm going to make sure that we will win everything.” He continues, palm slapping at the podium for emphasis. Kitt's team are whispering amongst themselves. “I'm going to do everything I've planned, make it so every single one of my platforms get done for everyone's benefit. Not just in this city but for the whole country.” A lot more applause sounds out as the man smiles at the cameras.

The debate team reconvenes in their seats, and the leader nods at Kitt with fire in her eyes.

“Debate team, what say you?” The announcer asks.

Kitt clears his throat, and you unconsciously swallow down your nerves. Mona holds your bicep while Billie does the same to her sister. Hobie releases an anxious exhale, everyone's eyes are on your son.

Kitt straightens his back, palms splayed over his lap. “You had almost the same platforms and promises durin’ your last term, correct?”

“Well that's true—”

“Then why didn't you do all of those plans durin’ it then? You had the time, and the resources, but you decided not to. And now you're usin’ the same plans for your third run for senate.” The venue erupts in a collective applause, agreeing to his comment as the politician tries to speak above the noise and loosens his tie.

“Oh Kitt just fuckin’ killed him in broad daylight.” Mona chuckles out.

“Language, Mon.” You mumble as you stare wide eyed and proud at your youngest.

You and Hobie share a look, grinning from ear to ear as the whole debate continues further and the senator digs his own grave deeper.

—

Hobie crouches down as Kitt meets up with everyone backstage. The youngest Brown collides with the oldest, hugging his dad as they laugh.

“You were bloody brilliant, Kitt!” He holds him at arm's length, still carrying him as his legs dangle while you look over Hobie's shoulder with your chin perched atop it. Grinning at him and laughing along.

“Thanks, dad, but can you please put me down?” He seems embarrassed from the baby-like carry, so with a chuckle, Hobie puts him down.

“We're so proud of you, sweetheart!” You exclaim, opening your arms to hug him. You expect him to refuse but to your surprise, he bounds over to you and embraces you fully with his face nuzzling against you.

“Thanks, mum.” Kitt says softly while his sisters laugh and poke at him. Making him unlatch himself from you to swat at their teasing.

Hobie closes the small distance towards you, watching as his little family play fights in the middle of the hallway.

“He got that from me.” He whispers right on the shell of your ear.

“His genius or the questioning authority bit?”

Hobie shrugs, reaching for your cheek to cup it and tug you closer to him for a quick kiss. “Both.”

“I agonized for nine months only to birth your clone.” He laughs at your joke, and you shake your head with a smile while Kitt tries to escape from his sisters to no avail.

“He got your kindness though,” you gaze at Hobie with fond eyes. “Your laugh, and how good he bloody looks with a suit on. Seriously, you two should match next time.”

You slap his chest, laughing with him. “You ruined it. And that was one time, Hobie!” Kitt's high pitched yells have you turning your attention back to your children.

“The guy almost pissed himself!” Billie guffaws, taking her little brother and placing him on her shoulder while Kitt yells. “Good on you, kitty!”

“I think it's safe to say that he's not gettin' any votes from ‘ere.” Mona giggles as Kitt kicks at Billie, prompting her to let go of him.

“This is velvet!” Billie gasps, offended at the shoe mark left on her jacket.

Kitt hides behind your legs as he sticks his tongue out at his sister. Hobie pats his head, shaking it in his grasp.

“Right, genius, ice cream for dinner, just like we talked ‘bout?”

“Can we really?!” He asks, wide eyed and grinning.

“What—?” You knit your brows at Hobie.

“Run!” With a grin, Hobie quickly grabs Kitt and fireman carries him while the girls follow suit, giggling as they sprint away from you.

“I want ice cream for dinner too!” You bolt after them, smiling as you playfully chase your family.

67 notes · View notes

lumiolivier · 4 months ago

Text

Cordially Invited

Series: One Piece

Chapter: One Shot

Word Count: 9796

Rating: T

Pairing(s): Cross Guild x Reader (YN)

a/n: This is it. My last post for the year. Thanks for sticking around with me while I ride the high of my One Piece hyperfixation. Especially with the Cross Guild. Here. I've been working hard on this for a while now. And uh...You know...For science...If someone were to draw Crocodile from this chapter, I'd be forever grateful...Happy Good Riddance to 2024 day. <3

You knew that your boys were not ones to shy away from a good party. Given that Buggy was a natural entertainer, Mihawk was a slut for attention, and Crocodile practically lived in a casino in Alabasta, you knew there was no way you were getting out of a party. Granted, you had your own plans. You wanted a night of peace and quiet. You wanted a night of some time alone with Buggy, Mihawk, and Crocodile. And possibly Perona if she was feeling up to it, but for the most part, you wanted your boys.

However, you were not going to get that luxury. Because Mihawk wanted to play. Mihawk needed that attention whore itch scratched. And as much as he loved you, he needed something more. That also meant you going into hiding. Mihawk’s castle was full of secret passageways. Some of them, he didn’t even know about. Even though he had Perona who had a working map of the place in her head. And given her pension for making things messy, it made you need an exceptional place to hide.

You didn’t want to party. You didn’t want to deal with people. You didn’t want a bunch of strangers in your home. You wanted your boys. And no one could blame you. You were their greedy baby and they loved you for it. But from the time you knew Mihawk would wake up in the morning, you needed to be up at least ten minutes beforehand in order to find somewhere safe. Where there was a party at Mihawk’s castle, there was going to be three gentlemen who wanted to spend their time making sure their crown jewel, their special treasure, shine as bright as possible.

Whether that treasure liked it or not.

Which brings us to why you’re hiding in a cozy corner of the castle. Why you’re currently living like the rats in the wall. Why you’re hoping like crazy that no one finds you. You could hear footsteps outside your hiding place. The worst game of hide and seek ever, you thought to yourself. And you weren’t wrong. You just wanted a day to yourself. You didn’t want to deal with a party. You didn’t want to deal with a full house. You wanted your boys. And your boys alone. But oh, no. Mihawk’s too big of an attention whore to realize his own attention whore right in front of him.

Tap…Tap…

“Found you,” Mihawk spoke outside the wall. Your hands immediately went over your mouth as your breaths grew shallower. They had to. Mihawk could hear a pin drop on the other side of the castle. You breathing in the walls would be nothing. Still, you managed. As far as you were concerned, he had no idea. You were still safe.

“Did you find her yet?” Ordinarily, you’d love nothing more than to hear Crocodile’s voice. However, this wasn’t the context.

“I did,” Mihawk confirmed, sending your heart rate through the ceiling, “I think she’s hiding in the servant passages. And if I hear correctly…”

Tap…Tap…Tap.

“There?” Crocodile assumed.

“There,” Mihawk confirmed, “YN…You need to come out now, darling. We don’t have time for this.”

You stayed right where you were. Although, you knew you weren’t going to stay there forever. You wouldn’t be able to. You needed to run, but they’d definitely hear you running. And Mihawk and Crocodile were never ones to shy away from the chase. They liked the hunt. Especially when you were their prey. It brought out something incredibly primal in them. And competitive. Because they both knew whoever got to you first was the winner. And yet, you never won in that scenario. At least not like this.

“And it looks like she’s not coming out,” Crocodile noticed, “Would you like me to get her?”

“If it’s not too much to ask for.”

“She seems to think she can run…” A sudden rush of sand came through the crack in the wall. And Crocodile apparated on the other end, “But she cannot hide. Hello, Princess.”

“Hello…” You knew you were screwed. You knew you were so screwed. You weren’t sure if it was the smirk on Crocodile’s face or the smug sense of satisfaction you could feel radiating from Mihawk.

“Oh, YN,” Crocodile pulled you against his chest, “You know I love you dearly. You know I want only the best for you. But it’s not nice to not come when we call for you. Especially on nights like tonight.”

“Oh, fuck,” you fell in Crocodile’s arms. Because he wasn’t going to give you another option, “Fine…”

“You’re going to go play with Mihawk for a while,” Crocodile picked your chin up, forcing eye contact with you, “And you’re going to be his good little girl for a while. Do you understand? You’re not going to give him any attitude. You’re not going to be a brat. You’re going to do exactly what he says and you will do it whenever he says to. Aren’t you, YN?”

“Yes, sir…” Because any other answer would’ve resulted in Crocodile taking you over his knee. And he was in a mood already. Any other time, you going over Crocodile’s knee wouldn’t exactly be a bad thing. Today was not the day.

And so, Crocodile held your hand while he marched you back down the hall and out the servants’ door. Was it a death march? No. Did it feel like one? Kind of. Would you live through it? Yes. Absolutely. That didn’t mean you wanted to, though. Once you popped out of the servants’ door, Mihawk waited for you, leaned against the wall. He wasn’t overly thrilled about your sudden game of hide and seek, but the chase wasn’t the worst.

“Next time, darling,” Mihawk took you off Crocodile’s hands, “Make it a little more of a challenge. The servant passages seem a little…I don’t know. Cliché. You’re much cleverer than that. You can do better.”

“I probably could’ve found a better beach to wash up on, too,” you sassed him under your breath.

“And I seem to remember someone waking up in a nice, warm bed,” Mihawk thought back, “with dry clothes on her body and the moment she woke up, she had warm food in her stomach after not eating anything in days. And then, she ended up with a roof over her head and three men who fell hopelessly in love with her. You live such a difficult life, don’t you, YN?”

“I’m going with you, aren’t I?” You really didn’t anticipate Mihawk hearing you, but you really should’ve known better. Mihawk’s hearing was sharp as a tack.

“The way I see it,” Mihawk bargained, “This can go one of two ways. Either you fully cooperate with me and this is a pleasant experience for you or you don’t cooperate and I make this experience a living hell. Either way, it’s getting done.”

You may have not been overly thrilled, but it wasn’t going to be the end of the world. So, you forced a smile on your face, “I guess I cooperate.”

“Good choice, darling,” Mihawk stole a quick kiss from you, “Now, you know where to go.”

“I know, I know…”

When you first ended up on the shore just outside the castle, you were hardly alive. You were shipwrecked and barely floated to the beach on a piece of driftwood. But you were tired. Your will to live slowly slipped away. Any hope of finding help was lost. Until you nearly blacked out on that little strip of beach. You didn’t know how long you were on that beach, but it wasn’t that you were worried about. It was you waking up in what would eventually be considered your bedroom that had you concerned. You saw the wanted posters. You knew who stood around you. You knew who the Cross Guild was. It wasn’t every day you ran into warlords. And you also knew they were the most beautiful bunch of pirates to sail the seas. But you knew they were dangerous. You knew you needed to be careful. In those days, though, you didn’t have the energy to fight back. And you didn’t regret it for a single second.

Until Mihawk brought you to his room where a seamstress was already waiting for you. And because you made Mihawk a promise, you had to suck it up. Through the invasive measuring, you gritted your teeth and let her do what she needed to. And once she was done, you immediately went straight into Mihawk’s bed. It’s all you wanted. Just comfort. And maybe the sweet smell you two leave behind in those soft, silk sheets.

“Oh, darling,” Mihawk crawled in next to you, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Catching a brief nap until I’m needed again,” you told him, your eyes closed and your head on the pillow.

“No,” Mihawk gave you a nudge, “You’re going to have to go through a few fittings and make some fabric choices before you can take any naps.”

“Perona!” you called out into the ether, hoping she heard you somehow somewhere.

“You bellow for me, YN?” Perona apparated in the middle of Mihawk’s room.

“Can you do me a favor?”

“No,” Mihawk already shot that down, “You’re not letting Perona be your stand-in. Not happening. Although, while I have you here, Perona, perhaps you could help me with something.”

“Sure, Mihawk,” Perona floated above him, “What can I do for you, oh great master?”

“Perona…”

“I know, I know,” Perona brushed him off, “What’s on your mind?”

“I may need a second opinion,” Mihawk explained, “And I trust your judgments.”

“Aww, Mihawk,” Perona melted inside, “That’s so sweet of you. I’d be happy to be your second opinion. What’s it for?”

“We’re putting a dress together for YN for tonight,” Mihawk explained, “And I’m a little torn on fabrics.”

“I can do that,” Perona leaned over his shoulder, “What did you have in mind?”

“I’m thinking jewel tones,” Mihawk suggested, “YN always looks drop dead stunning in jewel tones. Then again, she also looks her best in absolutely nothing at all, so you understand my dilemma.”

“Mihawk,” Perona squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to suppress what just came out of his mouth, “Come on. What you and YN do behind closed doors is your business. I hear enough of it through the walls.”

“Sorry,” Mihawk looked over at you. Beautiful, wonderful you, comfortably laying on your belly, “But I’m not wrong. YN in jewel tones is the ideal.”

“Big surprise,” Perona floated on her back, “Mihawk wants YN in jewel tones. Probably the darker jewel tones, too, right?”

“Naturally.”

“Again,” Perona reiterated, “Big surprise. Come on, Mihawk. Do you not want YN to branch out? Or hey! Better yet, shouldn’t we let her have an opinion?”

“When she doesn’t hide in the walls every time we throw a party,” Mihawk shot you a glare that ran through your body in the best way, “That’s when she gets an opinion.”

“Fair,” Perona let it go.

“Fair?” you whined, “Perona! I thought you’d be on my side. What happened to you being a girl’s girl?”

“I still am,” Perona assured you, “But Mihawk’s got a point. If you were acting up, who am I to stop him from punishing his little brat?”

“Perona!”

“Thank you, Perona,” Mihawk pulled a few fabric swatches and handed them off to her, “Go on. Pick your favorite.”

“Will do,” Perona thumbed through her options.

“Traitor…” you growled at her.

“I wouldn’t say traitor,” Perona held up a deep red silk to your face before grimacing a bit, “No. Not that one.”

“Really?” Mihawk wondered, “Why not? Honestly, that was my first choice.”

“Surprise, surprise,” Perona brushed him off, continuing through her choices, “Don’t get me wrong. I do love a good dark red, but not for tonight.”

“Understandable,” Mihawk backed off.

“Hmm…” Perona held up another swatch to your cheek. A deep green that she was seriously considering, “Mihawk? What are we thinking?”

“Too subtle,” Mihawk shot her down, “YN is definitely stunning in green, but it’s not doing anything for me.”

“Alright, alright,” Perona kept going, this time, pulling a deep navy that nearly bordered on black, “What about this one? How are we feeling?”

“You know,” Mihawk thought it over, “It’s not bad. That one?”

“You don’t think it’s too subtle?” Perona wondered.

“Don’t you think YN should get a say in this?” you chimed in.

“Not now, darling,” Mihawk hushed you, “Perona and I are in deep collaboration.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” you groaned, falling back onto the bed.

“No, no, no,” Mihawk smirked, “I like that. As much as I love the thought of making YN stick out like a sore thumb, she’s still my sore thumb. And everyone in the room needs to understand that. No one needs to be making cheap passes at her. And she certainly doesn’t need to stray.”

“She has no intention of it,” you nestled your face in Mihawk’s thigh, making yourself comfortable…and hopefully in his good graces.

“I know,” Mihawk ran his fingers through your hair, “I know. Because cheating on me would mean cheating on Crocodile and Buggy, too. And we all know that wouldn’t end pretty.”

“I’m not going to cheat on any of you,” you promised, “Mihawk, I love you. And I love Buggy and Crocodile, too. I’m not straying. No matter how much this party is going to make me want to leave all three of you.”

“What did we do?” Mihawk wondered, “What did we possibly do to make you want to leave us?”

“You and Crocodile ganged up on me this morning,” you reminded him, shoving your finger in his chest, “Buggy was complicit.”

“Buggy’s been holed up in his room for the last hour,” Mihawk rolled his eyes, “You think I’m dramatic for things like this. Clearly, you’ve never dealt with the clown when there’s promise of an audience.”

“He is kind of an attention whore,” Perona agreed, “But I hate to break it to you, Mihawk. You’re just as bad.”

“Bullshit.”

“Really?” Perona floated on her belly, “Are we really going to go down this route?”

“YN,” Mihawk gave you a little nudge, “Stay in the castle. Perona and I need to have some words.”

“Oh, boy!” Perona giggled, “My favorite.”

A sudden groan from down the hall caught your attention. You figured that would be somewhere better than Mihawk’s room. A room you didn’t expect to go into. Crocodile grumbled curses to himself while the sound of falling objects clattered on the floor. When Crocodile got into a mood, you knew to tread lightly, but something about this one felt different. You’ve seen him in moods before. You’ve never heard him in a mood coming out of his bathroom.

“Crocodile…?” you spoke softly, kindly, “Is everything ok?”

“Not now, YN,” Crocodile shooed you away, “It’s not the time. I don’t want to deal with you when I’m pissed off.”

“What happened?” you tiptoed into the bathroom where Crocodile sat on a stool in nothing but a towel. You’d be lying if you didn’t appreciate the sight. Under any better circumstances, you would’ve been into it. But seeing Crocodile with his face in his hands killed the moment.

“Don’t worry about it, YN,” Crocodile’s irritation only grew, “Go. Aren’t you supposed to be with Mihawk right now?”

“He’s tearing Perona a new ass,” you filled him in, “He told me I could walk around the castle all I wanted. I’m sure he’ll yell for me when he needs me again.”

“Then, shouldn’t you just stay with him?” Crocodile scoffed.

“Why would I do that,” you draped your arms over his bare, solid, and still slightly wet from his shower shoulders, “when you need me more than he does?”

As infuriated as Crocodile was, he couldn’t help but hold your hands against his chest, “Thank you, Princess. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“So,” you hoped you had him calmed down enough to get him to talk. Just a little, “What seems to be the problem?”

“It’s something incredibly stupid to get this pissed about,” Crocodile sighed out, “But I’m out of gel and it’s kind of getting to me. I don’t look right without it.”

“That’s what this little tantrum was all about?” you stared blankly into the mirror, “That’s what’s got you so bitchy?”

“I told you it was stupid,” Crocodile got defensive again.

“Stupid, no,” you laid your head in his neck, “Nonsensical, yes. So, you ran out of gel. Find something else. Or improvise.”

“There isn’t anything else around the castle,” Crocodile pouted, “There aren’t any supply ships running for another couple days. Everything for this party came this morning and I didn’t realize how empty my jar was.”

But that’s when you had an idea. You knew exactly how to fix everything, “Do you trust me?”

“Of course, I do,” Crocodile pulled you into his lap, “Why?”

“Because,” you kissed his cheek, “I have a plan. Stay here. I need to go steal some things from Buggy real quick.”

“What would you need to go steal from the clown?” Crocodile started to sweat a bit, “Unless he’s got a spare jar of the goods, I don’t see you needing to see Buggy, too.”

“Just trust me,” you left Crocodile alone in the bathroom and bolted down the hall, nearly tripping over your own two feet. You had a plan. And a good one at that. But before you could enact your plan, you had to go and grovel at Buggy’s feet. But considering he had a very soft spot in his heart for his special little doll, that wasn’t going to be much groveling.

When you poked your head into Buggy’s room, he, too, was in the middle of preparing for the evening’s festivities with outfit options on the bed. You didn’t even have to knock. Buggy was always more than happy to have you in his room, “Hey there, doll. What brings you center stage?”

“I need a little something, something from my favorite ringmaster,” you draped your arms around Buggy’s shoulders, stealing a quick kiss on his cheek.

“My, my, YN…” Buggy clutched his chest, “You realize if we’re not downstairs by the time this party starts, Mihawk’s going to have our asses mounted over his fireplace, right? And I’ll admit it. If we’re only here for a quickie, anything under five minutes would just be an unnecessary blow to my ego.”

“I’m not here for sex, baby,” you assured him, “I need about a dozen clear elastics. You wouldn’t happen to have any, would you?”

“In the bathroom,” Buggy directed you, “Top drawer on the far right in the back. Those don’t get used often. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with you having a little color. What would you want the clear ones for?”

“They’re not for me,” you went digging around in Buggy’s bathroom drawers for your elastics, “Crocodile’s having a mini tantrum and I’m about to make it all better.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Buggy followed you into his bathroom, “You didn’t say anything about this being for Crocodile.”

“Oops,” you grabbed a fistful of elastics and started heading out. Only for Buggy to grab you by the shoulder, “Come on, Buggy. Even though I want to go to this party as much as I want to go to a slumber party at the Marine base, I want to have a good time. And I can’t go have a good time if all my boys aren’t at their best. Besides, you have a thousand of these things. A few of them going down the hall isn’t going to kill you.”

“Let me rephrase this, sweetheart,” Buggy cradled your cheek in the palm of his hand, “Crocodile’s mean to me and I don’t want him to have any of my things.”

“He doesn’t have them,” you clarified, “Right now, I do. You can live with that, can’t you? I’m not mean to you.”

“I don’t know, doll,” Buggy thought back, “I seem to remember someone dropkicking my already severed head down the hall once.”

“That was one time,” you rolled your eyes. But you pulled yourself together and snuck in one last kiss, “Thank you, Buggy. I’ll be sure to repay this favor later.”

“Well…” Buggy smiled a bit, “If it’s getting repaid, I suppose I can let you go off with them. Besides, it’s just the clear ones.”

“Thank you.” And with your little success putting a pep in your step, you headed back down the hall.

“YN!” And there went your mission busted. Mihawk’s voice echoed through the castle. And you knew you needed to go back to his room. However, you had more pressing matters to attend to. You stopped off back in Crocodile’s bedroom. And you wanted nothing more than to crawl back into Crocodile’s bed and take a little nap before the evening’s festivities.

“YN?” Crocodile poked his head out of the bathroom, “I could’ve sworn Mihawk was yelling for you.”

“He was,” you nodded, “But right now, Mihawk is the least of my worries. Right now, I’m more concerned with you.”

“Uh-huh…” Crocodile saw through you like a sheet of glass, “You just don’t want to go deal with whatever bullshit Mihawk has for you, do you?”

“No, sir,” you shook your head, “I would much rather be here.”

“Go, YN,” Crocodile insisted, “I’m sure it won’t be long. And I’ll still be waiting for you.”

“Fine,” you begrudgingly made your way back into Mihawk’s room. Mostly to avoid any sort of punishment he may have had ready for you, “You call for me, Mihawk?”

“I did,” Mihawk nodded, a needle between his teeth, “Come here. I need to see if this fits you.”

“I’m sure it does,” you saw a big, beautifully made hoopskirt in that deep, navy blue that Mihawk and Perona had picked out while you were still in their clutches, “I mean, you do have my measurements, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Mihawk nodded, watching you wiggling into the skirt, “But that doesn’t mean I can’t occasionally make mistakes. Or perhaps your body changed a bit here and there since the last time I took your measurements.”

“Are you telling me I’m fat?!” you squeaked.

“No, darling,” Mihawk settled you, “I’m not saying anything of the sort. I’m merely thinking about inevitabilities. Your body is going to change. That’s just an unfortunate fact of life. Kind of like when it’s toward the end of the month and some of your bustiers fit a bit more snug than they usually do.”

“That’s not my fault,” you grumbled.

“And if somehow, we’re blessed with a baby,” Mihawk added, pulling away some of the fabric, “It’s going to change again. That’s not something to be ashamed or offended by. It’s merely part of you.”

“And that,” you stole one last kiss out of Mihawk, “is why I keep you.”

“Because it’s not you being on this island with us and having no other options?”

“That’s just a bonus,” you smiled, warming Mihawk to his core. But you were there for a reason, “Well? How are we feeling about the skirt?”

“It suits you,” Mihawk approved, “Do you have somewhere else to be?”

“I do,” you stepped out of the skirt, “I don’t know how to break this to you, Mihawk, but…There’s another man.”

“You have two other men than me,” Mihawk rolled his eyes, “Which one is trying to get their hands on you?”

“Crocodile,” you started walking out, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a big baby to take care of.”

“Baby?” Perona perked up, “What’s got Croccy all pissy?”

“He’s out of product and needs me to save the day,” you pushed Mihawk’s door open, “Yell if you need me!”

And so, you walked back down the hall to Crocodile’s room armed with a fistful of clear elastics and a dream. Sure enough, Crocodile hadn’t moved. Not for a change of scenery. Not to get dressed. He stayed in the bathroom right where you left him. You left the elastics on the counter and draped yourself around his shoulders yet again, “Something still bothering you, pookie?”

“Just one thing,” Crocodile admitted, looking at you strangely in the mirror, “I just recently found out you call me pookie and I’m not totally sure how to feel about it.”

“Just accept it,” you insisted, “It’s not hurting anything. I could be calling you worse.”

“Like what?” Crocodile wondered, “What could be worse than you calling me pookie?”

“I could’ve come in here,” you looked around the vanity for a brush for the sake of getting started, “And said, shut the fuck up, slut. We got work to do. But I didn’t. Instead, I called you pookie. Does that not sound a little better?”

“I guess,” Crocodile caved, a hint of a smile on his face while you raked your nails over his scalp, “So, what did you say you were doing?”

“I didn’t say anything,” you started separating your sections out, quietly grateful that Crocodile’s hair was still damp. Just for the sake of making things easier, “But lucky for you, your girlfriend…That’s me, by the way. Hello. Your girlfriend’s braiding skills are top notch. And I can make you still look like you, just in a different way.”

“I don’t remember asking for braids,” Crocodile thought back. However, he wasn’t going to fight you. At this point, he was desperate. And look at that face. Crocodile couldn’t say no to that cute little face.

“Put it this way,” you already started one just above his ear, getting it as tight as you could, “I’ve done this for Buggy a million times.”

“Oh, great,” Crocodile grumbled to himself, “So now, I’m on the same level as the fucking clown.”

“No, no, no,” you knew he was going to take that derogatorily. Fortunately, you knew how to dig yourself back out of the hole. By using the stairs, “Crocodile, you can’t do that to me. Do you know how big of a prissy bitch Buggy is when it comes to his looks?”

“No. And quite frankly, I don’t give a fuck.”

“You should in this instance,” you kept going, regardless of what Crocodile said, “Because even though it doesn’t seem like it, Buggy is the prissiest bitch when it comes to his looks. He’s worse than Mihawk and that is a hill I will die on. If he’s going to perform, he will trust me to do his hair and makeup for the night. That right there should tell you all my credentials I’ll ever need. Because he wouldn’t go on if he wasn’t into the look. I’ve seen it happen.”

“Why don’t I remember this?” Crocodile wondered, finally succumbing to your love and affection.

“You weren’t here,” you explained, “Mihawk either. Mihawk wanted a drink, so he had gone to the Baratie for the night…And a couple days after. And you wanted to check up on the rogue Baroque Works agents that still blindly and loyally follow you. So, it was just Buggy and me home. And much like teenage children who are left alone while Mom and Dad are gone, Buggy decided to throw a party. Or, in this case, Buggy decided to put on a show. His makeup wasn’t setting right. His hair was a disaster. And he got super bitchy and I had to be the one to deal with that.”

“Oh…” Crocodile’s face fell, “I’m sorry, Princess. I didn’t know you had to handle Buggy. I thought that was the other way around.”

“That’s what he says,” you clarified, tying your first braid off, “But no. I don’t get that lucky. I had to deal with his Primadonna ass while he threw a tantrum. But while he was busy pouting, I was busy fixing. And by the time he was done with that tantrum, he looked fantastic. Better than he planned. And I was the one responsible. And now, every time something isn’t working right…”

“YN!” Almost as if it were on cue, you heard Buggy’s voice down the hall.

And you let out a heavy sigh of sheer exasperation, “I get to be the one to fix it. I’ll be right back.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Crocodile leaned back in his chair, feeling around the counter for his lighter. Because nothing would’ve made him feel better quite like a bathroom filled with steam and cigar smoke.

“Thank you,” you snuck a little kiss on his cheek and headed down the hall. Because the day couldn’t have been more hectic. And you knew that once Mihawk entered the mix, it was only going to get worse. And yet, when you walked into Buggy’s room, he was still staring down wardrobe options on the bed, “You call for me, sweetie?”

“I’m torn,” Buggy sighed, “I got nothing.”

“Yes, you do,” you assured him, “You just need to find a way to combine in that makes your sad little brain happy again.”

“You’re not wrong,” Buggy agreed, “But where is that winning combination?”

“It’s somewhere in this pile,” you promised, already halfway out the door, “Love you!”

“Wait a second, YN!” Buggy stopped you, “I called you in here for help. How am I supposed to do this all by myself?”

“Well,” you suggested, “You pick up one piece of clothing. Find another one that could go with it. And hope that sparks some kind of flood of serotonin in you, sad clown. Ok, love you, bye!”

“But wait!” Buggy took your hand, “What if I need your opinion?”

“Look, Buggy,” you held your face in your hands, “I’m not going to be the one to beat some sense of self-esteem into you. You don’t need my approval. You don’t need anyone’s approval but your own. If you’re into it, then fuck what anyone else has to say. Has that not been your entire business model since the day I met you? I’m pretty sure it is. Now, put on whatever the fuck makes you feel good and call it a day. Ok? We got it? Good. Wonderful. Now, again. Love you, bye!”

“Hold on, doll,” Buggy wrapped his arms around your waist, “I appreciate it. Thank you. But you’re still going to give me a pass or fail on it, right?”

“If it gets me out of here quicker,” you nodded, “Yes. I will. Just not right now. I’m in the middle of something.”

“Fine,” Buggy let you go. But not without a little kiss first, “Love you. Go on. Go show someone else all of your attention.”

“Don’t you try and pull that bullshit with me,” you rolled your eyes, “My attention is split three ways and you know it.”

“Ahem…”

“Four…ways…” you growled. But then, a lightbulb flickered on in your head, “Hey! Wait a minute, Buggy! Since Perona’s not helping Mihawk anymore, she can help you!”

“Wait, what?” Perona made herself known a little better.

“Huh?” Buggy was just as lost.

“Hold on, YN,” Perona tried to backpedal, “I didn’t say I was done with-”

“Yeah!” you sang, nudging her forward, “Perona can help you, Buggy. And she’d be happy to. Isn’t that right, Perona?”

“No,” Perona scoffed, “No, it’s not. It’s not right at all.”

“Great,” you praised, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to work. Love you both! Bye!”

And before anyone else could stop you or think about protesting, you left Buggy and Perona alone in Buggy’s room to sort out any outfit dilemma he may have had. In all honesty, you were grateful Perona’s ego decided to make an appearance. She gave you an out without even realizing it. And that meant you getting back to Crocodile a little faster. It felt like you hardly got to spend any time with him anymore. Sure, you had your Crocodile weeks, but even those didn’t feel like enough anymore. And for something so intimate like this where you’re making him feel all better? You ate this up like it was your bread and butter.

“YN, dear…” But as you told Buggy, your attention was split three (possibly four, but only Perona was counting) ways. And lucky for you, it was Mihawk’s turn.

“Yes, Mihawk,” you poked your head into his bedroom, “What can I do for you?”

“It’s not necessarily what you can do for me,” Mihawk clarified, a fistful of fabric in his hand, “But what I can do for you.”

“That’s great, sweetheart,” you put a hand to his cheek, “But I’m kind of in the middle of something.”

“What?” Mihawk looked at you strangely, “What could you possibly be doing?”

“You’re not the only one in this castle,” you pointed out, “Buggy’s having a wardrobe situation. Crocodile ran out of gel. And then, there’s you.”

“The only one not asking something of you,” Mihawk wrapped his arms around you, “The preparations for this party were supposed to be a way to help you relax. And it’s been nothing but chaos for you. I’m so sorry, darling. You deserve better.”

“What I deserve and what I have right now are two different things,” you argued, “But that’s just life. We don’t always get what we deserve. And right now, I’m in the middle of fixing that situation for two of the men in my life that I love most. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

“YN, wait,” Mihawk took your hand, “You’re spending all this energy, all this effort in taking care of them. What about someone who just wants to take care of you?”

Mihawk’s words hit you like a cannonball. Because you knew how much you did around the castle. For Crocodile, for Buggy, even for Perona. And occasionally for Mihawk, too. Sure, you wanted to sit down for a while and get off your feet, but unfortunately, that wasn’t the direction life decided to take you. Instead, you nestled yourself into Mihawk’s chest, “I know you want to help me, Hawky. And I love you for it. But I just have one thing I need to finish first. Then, you can have me all you want. As long as you promise me one thing.”

“Of course, my love,” Mihawk brought your hand up to his lips, “What is it?”

“That you don’t go overboard,” you shoved a finger in his chest, “I know how you can be. It seems innocent enough, sure. YN, let me help you get dressed. YN, let me do your hair today. YN, it’s my week. Let’s go take a bath together. And then, all of a sudden, I look like I’m ready to femme fatale for the Cross Guild.”

“Be honest, though,” Mihawk smirked a bit, “You do make an excellent femme fatale for the Cross Guild.”

“I do,” you agreed, “But that’s when I’m actually doing femme fatale work. Not when we’re just spending the day with some downtime in the castle.”

“Alright, alright,” Mihawk backed off, “I understand. I have a bad habit of going overboard.”

“Thank you,” you got one more kiss from Mihawk, “But I need to go back to Crocodile. Ok? Is that something we can both agree on?”

“I suppose so,” Mihawk let you go, “But if he was so pressed for product, he could’ve asked me. I have a small stockpile that he’s more than welcome to.”

“Probably because he knows you’d go overboard, too,” you giggled to yourself.

“Am I really that bad?” Mihawk scoffed, “Surely not.”

“Just out of curiosity,” you wondered, “This party…You wouldn’t have happened to invite the Strawhats this way, would you?”

“Only one of them. Why?”

“Ask him,” you smiled a bit, “Ask him when he gets here if you go overboard. And very carefully, study his expression. That will tell you all you need to know.”

“Don’t you have another boyfriend to go contend with?” Mihawk knew you were right. That didn’t mean he wanted to be called out on it.

“Yes, I do,” you stole a quick little kiss and headed back into Crocodile’s room. For some reason, you had that feeling that this was the end. That once you were done with Crocodile, you’d finally be able to relax the way Mihawk intended. You followed the cloud of smoke back to the bathroom.

“Where the hell have you been?” Crocodile asked, much calmer than the last time you saw him. For a brief moment, you almost wondered if it was more than just a cigar he was smoking. But you knew better. Weed was more of a Buggy thing. Not Crocodile.

“It feels like I’ve been everywhere,” you admitted, twisting your fingers back up in his hair, “Buggy needed me. Then, Mihawk needed me. And now, I’m back to where I’m needed most.”

“You are a life saver, YN,” Crocodile cracked a little smile, “Thank you.”

You debated for a moment or two whether or not to tell Crocodile what Mihawk told you. Did he know Mihawk was well stocked? Or was this just an excuse for you two to spend a little extra time together? You may never know. But you kept Mihawk’s offer to yourself. Mostly because you had already started. And you were three braids on the left in already. You went up another three on the left and then, another six on the right, leaving some of his hair alone on the top. And once you were done, you knew giving Crocodile some Viking braids was most certainly the move.

“Well?” you asked, leaning over Crocodile’s shoulders, “I told you.”

“In all honesty,” Crocodile admitted, “I wasn’t expecting to like it. But I suppose it’ll do. For tonight, anyway.”

“Bullshit,” you draped your arms around him, getting a little kiss out of him, “You love them and you know it.”

“I love you,” Crocodile took your hands and held them against his chest, “I know that’s for sure.”

“I love you, too.”

“YN!” And yet again, you were summoned.

“Go,” Crocodile insisted, “I know you said Buggy was the bitchy Primadonna, but I don’t want you to have to deal with bitchy Primadonna Mihawk.”

“I’ve dealt with worse,” you started heading out and ran down the hall where Mihawk stood in front of a dressmaker’s mannequin, beyond proud of himself with the navy and gold ballgown he put together himself. Because…Well, it was you. There was nothing Mihawk wouldn’t do for you. And the man could put a ballgown together in his sleep, “Mihawk, this is incredible…”

“Thank you, darling,” Mihawk took your hand, “I want you to try it on. Just to see if there are any adjustments I need to make.”

“Ok.” Very carefully, you slipped the dress on. Despite that corset making it a bit more difficult to breathe, you weren’t mad about it. You checked yourself over in the mirror, loving what it was doing for your body, “Mihawk, this…I can’t even begin…”

“Nor can I,” Mihawk gave you a little spin, “Damn, I’m good.”

“Yes, you are,” you gently sat at the edge of his bed.

“It’s such a shame…” he let out a heavy sigh, “I put in all this work and all this effort. And tonight, you have to go to the fucking clown.”

“Sorry, baby,” you giggled a bit, “Don’t worry. It’s just a week.”

“Maybe you could sneak across the hall,” Mihawk insisted, “I wouldn’t tell you no. Who could turn away a pretty face like that?”

“Mihawk,” you put a hand up to his cheek, “You know you have to wait your turn. It’s Buggy’s week. Then, it’s yours. Got it?”

“Very well then,” Mihawk took your hand and brought you back onto your feet, “You really are truly a vision, YN. You quietly wanted it to be Mihawk’s week already. However, you also knew that after your bout of being sick, Buggy had a little something special for you. And you couldn’t wait to see what he had in store for you. But first, you had to get through this party.

And before you knew it, the party was in full swing. The music was perfect. The food was perfect. Everything was perfect. Because Mihawk would never allow such a thing. You had watched as he meticulously planned this party for the last week. The late nights he spent micromanaging the decoration of the ballroom. Everything was just the way he wanted. However, that didn’t mean he could have his perfect night.

“Heyyyyyy!” a familiar, overexcitable voice broke through the string quartet. Not only did it put a vein in Mihawk’s forehead, but you watched as it became the thorn in Buggy’s side and pain in Crocodile’s ass, “You threw a party and only invited one of us? Come on, Hawk guy! You could’ve invited all of us!”

It had been a while since you saw Mihawk’s protégé. And you weren’t too terribly upset by the rest of the crew coming along. You never had any problems with them. Your boyfriends, on the other hand…That was a different story. Mihawk wanted nothing more than a nice, classy evening. And yet, who shows up on his front door but the one and only future king of the pirates himself?

“Monkey D. Luffy,” Mihawk grumbled. Although, you knew the truth. Mihawk may not have been able to stand being in the same room as him for long, but that didn’t mean he didn’t keep his ear out for any little scraps of gossip on him, “What the hell do you think you’re doing in my house?”

“This is your house?” Luffy gasped, getting a good look around, “This is a whole castle! This is so cool!”

“What the hell is he doing here?” Buggy stepped in, “Mihawk, you didn’t do something stupid like-?”

“Of course, I didn’t invite him, you fucking moron,” Mihawk snapped at him.

“What are you doing here?” Crocodile joined them, just as ready to tear into Luffy as the others.

“Hey!” Luffy’s grin was unwavering, “Binky! Croccy!”

“It’s fucking Buggy, you little shit!” Buggy growled.

“Buggy,” you had to step in before things got ugly, “Play nice.”

“Sorry, Mihawk,” Zoro came in, “I made the mistake of leaving the invitation on the table. And asking Nami for a ride.”

“You brought this plague upon my home,” Mihawk shot Zoro a glare.

“Hi, YN!” Luffy waved to you.

“Hi, Luffy!” you waved back, pulling on Buggy’s arm, “Excuse us…Crocodile? Do I need to pull you away, too?”

“I need a snail,” Crocodile walked away on his own accord. Which, in all honesty, you were impressed with his restraint.

“Who you calling, Croccy?” Luffy wondered.

“A certain revolutionary,” Crocodile stormed off, his heart a little heavy. You made a mental note to go check on him later.

“Now, you…” You dragged Buggy to the bar and poured both of you a drink, “Here, sweetheart. For what ails you.”

Without hesitation, Buggy threw back whatever it was you made for him and pulled himself together again, “Thanks, doll. I needed that.”

“I figured,” you gave him a little kiss right on the end of his nose, “You’ll be fine. It’s just for tonight. By the end of the night, I’m sure he’ll go back to his ship.”

“I wasn’t expecting a night with the fucking Strawhats, though,” Buggy pouted, taking your drink from you.

“What the hell?” you took your empty glass back, “I don’t remember where I said you could have my drink. I made that one for me.”

“And now, it’s for me,” Buggy sat down and rested his head in your shoulder, “You know, YN, you and I should find a way to sneak out of this party early.”

“Well,” you started racking your brain for ideas, “I could always say I got my period a week early.”

“So, I’d have to let you be in your room for my week?” Buggy scoffed, “Try again.”

“Dammit,” you went back to the drawing board. Only for the true bolt of lightning to strike your thoughts, “Hold on. Why would we have to sneak upstairs?”

“You think Mihawk’s going to just let us waltz upstairs?” Buggy pointed out, “No way. We need to be down here and sociable apparently. I’m not thrilled about it either.”

“Well,” you sat in Buggy’s lap, “We could always just say we’re tired.”

“Oh, YN…” Buggy awed, “My dear, sweet, little doll that you are…I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, Buggy,” you melted in his embrace, “Where did that come from?”

“We couldn’t say it’s because we’re tired,” Buggy kissed the back of your neck, “It’s your first night with me again. You really think we’re going to sleep? Especially with that new little toy I got just for you? Oh, no, no, no, baby. That’s not how that’s going to work. It’s going to be a beautiful disaster to see you come fucking unglued. It’s going to be a spectacle for an audience of one. How lucky am I to have the front row seat to that?”

“The luckiest,” you couldn’t keep a smile off your face if you wanted to. You had a feeling something special was going to go down tonight. You just didn’t anticipate it being Buggy. Not that you were complaining in the least bit. You knew what waited for you. Somewhat, “You better be a gentleman about it, clown.”

“When you say gentleman,” Buggy moved in a little closer. Sure, he could be an absolute mess more often than not, but you had to admit…He could flirt like no one else, “You want me carry you over the threshold? Cuddle you after?”

“I mean, if you come first,” you threatened, “We’re going to have a problem.”

“Ooh,” Buggy clutched his chest, “You know I love when you talk dirty, doll. What were you thinking? Torture? Maiming? Cutting me up?”

“You are a sick bitch,” you giggled, “Did you know that?”

“What can I say?” Buggy shrugged, “I’m into some things. Sue me. But please don’t. Most of my money ends up going to Croco-douche, so…”

“Hey…” You knew your boys were no strangers to their petty squabbling. But you weren’t overly fond of them dragging you into it. Whatever they did amongst themselves was their own business.

“Sorry, YN,” Buggy immediately bit his tongue, “I guess that means I’ve been a naughty boy…”

“Mmhm,” you nodded, “The naughtiest. And you know what that means?”

“Naughty boys get punished?” you could see Buggy crossing his fingers with anticipation. That was yours. That was your clown. That you agreed to let into your life. Somewhat. But that was all yours.

“Naughty boys should get punished,” you left a little kiss on his cheek and started walking out to the dance floor. Because what better way to punish your naughty boys (who ALL have been naughty in one way, shape, or form this evening) than to cross enemy lines? And with you spending as much time as you did with Buggy, you were getting a taste for putting on a show. And you had your eyes on that kid in the straw hat, “Hey, Luffy?”

“Hi, YN!” Luffy perked up, his cheeks almost stuffed to capacity. But you knew those cheeks could stretch a little more. He swallowed hard, “How’ve you been?”

“Come with me,” you took his hand and led him to the middle of the floor.

“Ok,” Luffy was a touch confused, but bless his heart, he had the spirit, “What are we doing?”

“You’re helping me enact a little vengeance plan.” The two of you started moving together while a soft, romantic concerto played through the room. And you could feel it. Both Buggy and Mihawk were watching intently. All while Luffy was blissfully ignorant.

“What kind of vengeance plan?” Luffy wondered.

“Well,” you explained. Because you weren’t totally going to keep Luffy in the dark, “Buggy’s being kind of an ass. Mihawk’s being kind of an ass. I’m sure Crocodile’s done something to be kind of an ass. And if I had to find someone in this room who is public enemy number one to all three of them, who do you think that would be?”

“Probably me,” he assumed. That’s when all the tumblers fell into place, “Ohhhh. So, you’re dancing with me to get back at them?”

“Mmhm,” you nodded, “Is it a dick move? Yeah, but it teaches them.”

“Well,” Luffy decided, giving you a little spin, “If you wanted someone who’s a better dancer than me, I could point you in the direction of someone else.”

“You’re doing just fine,” you assured him, getting a quick look at Mihawk and Buggy. Mihawk and Buggy exchanged glances with Buggy giving Mihawk a little nod. With a dramatic flourish (because you’d expect nothing less), Mihawk went off to, no doubt, find Crocodile. You knew better, though. It was Luffy. Luffy wasn’t going to do anything stupid. Nor were you. At this point, you were merely dancing with a friend. If they couldn’t accept that, that was on them.

“I’m serious, YN,” Luffy insisted, “If you really want them nervous, he’d be much better than me.”

“I don’t think I could,” you backed off, “Zoro might be pushing it.”

“Who said anything about Zoro?” Luffy scoffed, taking a quick look around the room before his eyes falling on his target, “Hey, Sanji! There’s a lady that wants to dance with you!”

“Why, hello there, YN,” Sanji apparated in front of you with a rose in hand seemingly out of nowhere. It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate Luffy coming in clutch for you, but you knew how Sanji could be. Sure, he wasn’t hard to look at, but he wasn’t your type. At least not when you had the likes of Mihawk, Buggy, and Crocodile at your disposal. They ruined you.

“Hello, Sanji,” you took his hand anyway. You knew this was playing with fire, but you were looking to stoke some flames. And if all else failed and your boys didn’t want to get their hands dirty (but since it’d be for you, of course, they would in a heartbeat, but in a hypothetical scenario where you weren’t within their eyesight), you knew Zoro would step up for you. Maybe not necessarily for you, but you two never had a problem with each other. And Zoro knew Mihawk would see him hung in the courtyard of the castle if he didn’t defend you with his dying breath, “Care to give a girl a dance?”

“It’d be my honor,” Sanji clutched his chest, carefully spinning you around the floor. And you could see it all over Buggy’s face. Both he and Mihawk were ready to burn the world down around you. Not even hesitating to watch Sanji be engulfed in those flames. But they also weren’t going to cause a scene. If Mihawk didn’t have Buggy on a metaphorical backpack leash, he would one hundred percent have killed Sanji with no remorse. With every step, every turn, every spin, you weren’t expecting to enjoy yourself so much. And with Sanji, of all people.

“Thank you,” you gave him a little curtsey and started walking off. You needed somewhere quiet for a while. Just to recharge. And the study sounded like a good idea.

“YN,” Mihawk stopped you before you could find your solace, “Are you alright, darling?”

“I’m fine,” you assured him, gently shaking him off, “But I’ll be right back.”

“Ok,” he let you go.

You wanted some peace and quiet. And in all honesty, you were hoping Buggy caught the little glance you gave him over your shoulder. You made your own out. And as long as Buggy played along, you two would get what you both wanted from the beginning. Still, you made your way through the castle and into the study. Although, you weren’t expecting to hear a voice still dripping with bitterness. Then again, you knew where the nearest communicator snail was.

“No. When he’s being a pain in my ass, he’s your son…I don’t care if you’re staging a coup in the North Blue. Get your ass here and pick up your son! Oh, look at that! Father of the year doesn’t want to come back with the milk! Who would’ve thought…? Oh, really? That’s how you’re going to be? Uh-huh. See if I ever do that little tongue thing you like ever again…Now, I’m the one playing dirty? You’re damn right, I am! And I have every right to! I had no idea he was going to show up here tonight! Mihawk’s pissed. The clown is pissed…And I’ll admit. Any other time, it’s amusing as hell. Tonight? Not one of those times! Now, like I said before. Get. Your revolutionary ass. To Mihawk’s. And pick. Up. Your. Son…! Well, he sure as hell isn’t crashing here!”

“Crocodile…?” you spoke softly, just so you wouldn’t startle him. And you knew he was riled up enough.

“Shut the fuck up for a second!” Crocodile put the receiver down and tended to you, “Hi, sweetheart. What are you doing in here? The party’s downstairs.”

“I’m hot and needed somewhere to recoup,” you told him, “I’ll be ok.”

“YN…” Buggy poked his head in the door, “Sorry. I couldn’t help but hear the bitching from the hall.”

“Buggy,” you stepped between them before Crocodile could choke him out.

“Alright, alright,” Buggy stopped before things could escalate, “Come on, YN. I know it’s my week, but I think it’s time I get you to bed, too.”

“But there’s still a whole party downstairs,” you protested. But in all seriousness, you didn’t want to go back downstairs.

“No,” Buggy scooped you up and threw you over his shoulder, “You’re coming with me, young lady.”

“Buggy, put me down!” you started your tantrum, “Put me down! Put me down!”

“See what I mean?” Buggy turned his attention to Crocodile, “She’s clearly got the tired crankies and needs to go to bed.”

Crocodile picked your chin up and stole a little kiss from you, “I hate to admit it, Princess, but the damn clown is right. You should go to bed.”

“I’m not tired!” you whined, “I’m fine!”

“YN…” Crocodile lightly scolded you, “Time for bed.”

“What’s going on in here?” Mihawk joined in, catching an eyeful of what you had up your skirt, “Mmm…You look lovely in black lace, YN.”

“Fuck off!” you snapped.

“Now, that wasn’t nice,” Mihawk took your face between his hands, “Say you’re sorry, darling…”

“You were just looking up my dress!” you argued.

“Don’t take it personally, Hawky,” Buggy brushed him off, “She’s tired and needs to go to bed.”

“Very well,” Mihawk allowed, “Crocodile, you need to-”

“I’m already on a call,” Crocodile nodded toward the also tired communicator snail, “And I’m sure he’s GETTING AN EARFUL!”

You could’ve sworn you heard laughter on the other end of Crocodile’s call. But you weren’t going to think too much about it. Still, you felt Buggy’s hand on your backside. Not that you were really complaining, but you also weren’t expecting it, “Well, I should probably be getting the little one to bed. Good night, gentlemen.”

“Good night, Buggy,” Mihawk let him go. But not without one last kiss from his favorite, “Good night, YN. Sleep well, darling.”

“I’m not tired, Buggy!” you continued to flail. And at that rate, you’d be exhausted by the time you got to Buggy’s room. You squealed and squeaked all the way down the hall. You weren’t tired! You didn’t want to go to bed! You caused such a scene, but you didn’t care. You knew that if the baby threw enough of a fit, Buggy would do what any decent parent would do. He’d get you out of the situation. It wasn’t necessarily the party you wanted to get away from, but the anticipation of starting Buggy’s week was killing you, “I told you to put me down, you son of a-!”

“The door’s shut, doll,” Buggy pointed out as he threw you down onto his bed, “We’re in the clear.”

“Ok,” you let your body go limp, quietly celebrating your success, “So, we did it?”

“We did it, baby girl,” Buggy flopped down next to you, “We did it.”

“Thank God,” you sighed out, immediately kicking your heels off, “My feet were killing me. Don’t get me wrong, it was nice dancing with Sanji. And believe it or not, Luffy, too. But goddamn…Mihawk needs to learn to not put me in heels that high. I was lucky I could walk, let alone dance.”

“About that,” Buggy pulled you into his chest, “What the fuck was that all about?”

“Mihawk told me he wanted me to have a good time tonight,” you explained, “And in order to do that, I needed my boys to have a good time, too. And I need you not to be so bitchy, but at the same time, I needed you to unclench. Especially when the Strawhats show up.”

“By the way,” Buggy cut you off, “You may need to take stock of any knickknacks you love and hold dear. The girl with the tattoo on her shoulder has sticky fingers.”

“Noted.” But you knew Nami wasn’t going to steal from you, “Sanji wasn’t my idea, though. That was all Luffy’s idea. But I don’t think he fully understood the ramifications of that.”

“More importantly,” Buggy asked, a little smile on his face, “Would you like to see what I have for you?”

“I’d love to see what you have for me,” you cuddled into him, “What’s my present?”

Buggy turned on one of his spotlights, showing a long spool of ribbon hanging from the ceiling, “That.”

“You got me silks?” you got up from Buggy’s bed and went to go see it for yourself.

“That’s part of it,” Buggy nodded, already running his fingers down the buttons of your dress without even getting up from the bed, “I hope you’re not afraid of heights, YN. Because I was thinking we give suspension a try. How are we feeling about that?”

“Hold on,” you thought it over for a moment or two, “Are you saying…Did you get us a sex swing?”

“I might have,” Buggy got up and wiggled your dress down to your ankles. And he loved what he saw, “Damn, Mihawk was right. You do look phenomenal in black lace.”

“Not you, too,” you blushed a bit.

“Get in the ribbons, doll,” Buggy ordered, running his finger down your chest and just over your nipples, “Because I’m about to make you put on one hell of a show…”

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