#oh good the hyperfixations are crossing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

monster-disaster · 4 months ago

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Hi darling, i see you have some somnophilia works.. May i sprinkle my current hyperfixation in? You have a stalker vampire who lives in your attic and feeds at night, either on you or goes out in the neighborhood. You start to have a sneaking suspicion you're being watched until you catch him. He can turn into a bat and creep through the attic door to get inside easily... He falls in love with you when you're up late singing, drawing, and cooking/showering. Um... And maybe he can see you in the shower through a vent in the ceiling 🫣 thank you i love your writing mwah

vampire!stalker x human!Reader Good to know: stalking

And you know what the funny thing is? You were the one who put him in your attic one morning when you were just about to get into your car and leave. By sheer luck, you happened to notice him curled up under your car, right behind one of the front wheels.

"Oh," you gasped at the sight. "You poor thing." Without thinking, you knelt beside the car, your heart softening as you took in the little creature’s vulnerable form. He looked so fragile, so out of place in the daylight. You extended a cautious hand, murmuring soothing words as you gently scooped him up. His small body was colder than you expected, but for a moment, he seemed to settle into your palm, as if relieved to be found. “You don’t have much survival skill, do you?” The thought of what might have happened if you hadn’t noticed him made you shudder. “You’re lucky I didn’t drive over you. But don’t worry, I know just the place where you’ll be safe.” Cradling him close, you turned back toward the house. You moved through the familiar hallway, your footsteps soft on the wooden floor as you made your way to the attic. The space was rarely used, cluttered with old memories and forgotten things, but it was quiet and safe, perfect for a little bat in need of shelter. “You’ll be safe here until it gets dark,” you murmured as you set him down in a cozy corner, carefully lining it with the soft fabric from an old box that had seen better days. You could feel the cool air of the attic as you moved, and after a moment’s hesitation, you left the window slightly open, just enough to give him a way out whenever he felt ready. You watched him for a few seconds longer, making sure he was comfortable, before closing the attic door with a quiet click. Two days passed before he crossed your mind again, but when you pushed open the attic door, the corner where you’d left him was empty.

You hoped the small animal was fine, but you had no idea that your story with him was far from over. At first, he genuinely wanted to stay away, but you lingered so vividly in his memory that he couldn't keep himself from returning. At first, he stayed only in your attic, listening to the sounds of your life around the house.

Your house was old, with creaking floorboards and doors that groaned on their hinges. The attic was dim and dusty, cobwebs stretching across the corners. The only light came through the window, filtering the moon’s glow into pale patches and deep shadows on the ground. He had spent countless nights here over the past few weeks, silently observing as the house lived and breathed around him, while he remained still and unseen in the darkness. Below, a door closed softly, followed by the gentle padding of footsteps across the floor. He tilted his head slightly, listening to you move through the house. You were humming a tune you'd recently heard on the radio. A soft, quiet sound that carried through the otherwise still air. He heard your steps as you climbed the stairs, and moments later, music began to drift upward through the floorboards. It was upbeat, with a woman’s voice accompanied by a guitar keeping the rhythm. The vampire shifted slightly, careful not to disturb the thick layer of dust on the floor. You had no idea he was there, and he preferred it that way. He took pleasure in your unawareness. Next, the steady sound of water pattering against tile reached his ears as you stepped into the shower, still humming and singing softly to yourself. For a long second, the dark wall in front of him disappeared as he imagined you in the bathroom with your head slightly tilted back as you washed down the shampoo. The white suds of the soap gently slipped down on your bare body, following the lines of your curves. He had to force himself to stay still. Soon, the water stopped, and after a few moments, he heard the soft slap of your bare feet on the bathroom tiles, and then on the hallway floor. He could smell the fresh, clean scent of your shampoo and lotions drifting into his sensitive nose. Quickly, you returned to your bedroom, the music still playing softly in the background. There was a pause as you opened your wardrobe and pulled out a drawer, followed by the rustling of fabric as you dressed in something comfortable and warm. Now, he could hear your breathing and the steady beat of your heart, which seemed to align with the music. Your room was just below the attic. So close. You sighed softly, and he imagined you sinking into the bed. The old springs of the mattress groaned under your weight. He stayed all night, hidden in the shadows. After all, he had all the time in the world.

Of course, his need to get closer to you, to see you, grew over time. After a few months, hiding in your attic wasn't enough anymore, and he became bolder. At first, he came out only after you had fallen asleep.

The night was still as the vampire silently came down from the attic, making his way straight to your room. The old house seemed to hold its breath as he moved, careful not to disturb the quiet of your home. The faint, lingering scent of your recent shower still hung in the air, mingling with the cool night breeze that slipped through the cracks. The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a faint, silvery glow over your sleeping form. Your breathing was slow and even. You were blissfully unaware of the danger that lurked so close. He could easily reach out and touch you if he wished, and the thought sent a thrill through him. He stood by your bedside for a long moment, his gaze tracing the soft lines of your face, the fluttering of your lashes as you dreamed, and the gentle rise and fall of your chest. His fingertips tingled with the urge to reach out, just for a second, just to feel the warmth of your skin beneath his touch. There was something calming about you, something that eased the centuries-old hunger that gnawed at him. The memory of you holding his bat form so carefully and softly was vivid in his memory. Your palms were warm around his small body as your chest vibrated with every word you said to keep him calm. Almost without thinking, his hand moved, brushing over the line of your jaw from your ear to your chin. His touch was feather-light, barely a whisper against your skin, but the sensation sent a shiver through him. You were so warm, so alive. You stirred slightly, your body shifting beneath the covers, but you did not wake. The vampire froze, his hand lingering for a moment longer, savoring the contact, before he slowly drew it back. His fingers curled into a tight fist as he kept himself from reaching out again. He remained there for a few minutes, motionless, watching as you settled back into your dreams, completely unaware of the dark figure standing guard over you. He wanted to stay, to linger by your side until the first light of dawn, but he knew he couldn’t risk it. Not yet. With a final, reluctant glance, he began to retreat, slipping back into the shadows where he belonged. But he would return. He was certain of that.

It didn't take long for him to crave more. Soon, seeing you asleep wasn't enough.

The door of your bathroom was ajar, just enough for him to peer inside without being noticed. Steam curled out from the small gap, warm and fragrant, carrying the scent of your soap and shampoo into the cool air. It filled his nostrils as he edged closer without a sound. You stood under the spray, your head tilted back, eyes closed as the water cascaded over your body. The droplets caught in your hair and ran down your skin, glistening like tiny diamonds in the dim light. He watched, transfixed, as you moved beneath the stream. Your hands glided through your hair and over your body. There was something almost hypnotic in the rhythm of your movements, in the way you seemed so completely at ease, so unaware of the eyes that lingered on you from the shadows. He knew he shouldn’t be here, knew this was a line he had never intended to cross. But the allure of your presence, the simple beauty of you, was too much to resist. He felt a strange mix of hunger and something softer, something like longing, as he watched the water trace the contours of your body. His fingertips tingled with the image of your warm skin underneath his touch. For a brief moment, your eyes flicked open, and he held his breath, though he knew you couldn’t see him. You looked toward the door, a vague sense of something stirring in your gaze, but then you blinked and turned back to the water, shaking off whatever fleeting thought had crossed your mind. The vampire exhaled silently with relief. The brief moment of contact, of almost being caught, sent a thrill through him. He took one last lingering look at you, committing every detail to memory; the curve of your neck, the straight line of your spine, and the softness of your thighs. And then, as quietly as he had come, he slipped back into the shadows. The image of you under the shower would stay with him, a vivid memory to savor during the long hours of daylight.

Soon, his visits began to feel like a dance. He moved in perfect sync with you through the house. When you entered a room, he slipped into the shadows, always just out of sight, careful to remain unseen. He knew the rhythm of your nights, the way you moved from room to room, the way you lingered by the window or paused to turn off a light. But as the nights went on, something stirred within you; a suspicion that someone was there, watching, staying just out of your way but never leaving.

The kitchen was warm, filled with the scent of onions sizzling in the pan. You moved methodically, chopping vegetables and stirring sauces, trying to focus on the simple task of making dinner. The rhythm of cooking usually soothed you, but tonight, something was off. The feeling had been creeping up on you all evening, a persistent, unsettling sense that you weren’t alone. It gnawed at the edge of your thoughts, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it. The house was quiet, too quiet, and every creak of the floorboards, every rustle of the wind outside, seemed loud in the stillness. You paused for a moment, the knife hovering above the cutting board, and glanced around the kitchen. The lights cast long shadows across the floor, stretching into the corners where the darkness lingered. You told yourself it was nothing, just your imagination running wild, but the hairs on the back of your neck refused to settle down. As you returned to your cooking, your movements became more hurried, more anxious. The feeling of being watched grew stronger. You tried to shake it off, focusing on the task at hand, but your mind kept drifting away from your dinner. Finally, you set the knife down with your heart beating faster than it should. You turned slowly, scanning the room, half-expecting to catch a glimpse of something, or someone, in the shadows, but there was nothing, just the empty kitchen and the low hum of the refrigerator. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the unease remained. The feeling of eyes on you, of someone lurking just out of sight, was too strong to ignore. Every movement you spent in the kitchen, or anywhere in the house was accompanied by the prickling sensation that you weren’t as alone as you thought.

As your suspicion grew and fear settled into your home, the vampire's feelings deepened. What had begun as a mere fascination had slowly morphed into something more serious, something he could no longer ignore.

The night was crisp and quiet, with only the distant hum of the city breaking the stillness. The vampire stood outside your window, hidden in the darkness. His eyes were fixed on the warm glow spilling from inside your home. The curtains were partially drawn, just enough to reveal you sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket and engrossed in the flickering screen of the TV. He had watched you countless times, seen you in every possible light and shadow, but tonight was different. The sight of you curled up in your cozy living room, lost in the world of your favorite show, stirred something within him that he hadn’t fully acknowledged until now. The way you snuggled into the blanket with a sigh that escaped your lips as you laughed at something on the screen moved something in him. It was all so intimate, so utterly human. His gaze softened, and he felt a pang of longing so intense it almost hurt. He watched the way your eyes danced with amusement, how your expressions changed with the flow of the story, and how you seemed to be completely at ease in your own world. It was in these small, everyday moments that turned his feelings into something more than fascination or obsession. He was in love with you. His heart, dead for a long time, ached with a longing he hadn’t known was possible. As he stood there, his thoughts raced. He had been drawn to you from the beginning, but now he realized it was more than mere curiosity or obsession. He had come to adore you even from afar. The way you lived your life, so genuine and unfiltered, made him yearn for things he had long forgotten. He imagined what it would be like to sit beside you, to be part of these simple moments that meant so much to him. The love he felt was both exhilarating and painful, a reminder of how far he was from the life he desired. The thought of revealing himself, of breaking through the barrier he had maintained for so long, seemed both a terrifying and exhilarating possibility, but he knew there was no way back. There was no way he could just walk away from you.

Watching you through the window, observing your life from the shadows only deepened his longing. He couldn’t go on like this. Being so close, yet so far wasn’t enough anymore.

You turned the corner with an eagerness in your chest to get inside your home and unwind after a long day at work. Your keys jingled in your hand as you approached your front door but before you could reach the stairs leading up onto your small porch, you noticed a figure standing in front of your neighbor's house. He was tall and impeccably dressed in a dark suit that seemed to absorb the lights of the streetlamps towering at the edge of the sidewalk. He was engrossed in a conversation with the elderly couple who lived next door. Their faces were lit with curiosity and welcome as they nodded at something the stranger said. As you drew closer, without your notice or permission, he turned to face you, and an unexpected chill rippled down your spine. His smile was disarmingly charming, but there was something about it that made you pause. In the dim glow of the street lights, you noticed the glint of his fangs, sharp and white. They caught the light in a way that made your heart skip a beat. “Good evening,” he said, his voice smooth and inviting. “I’ve just moved into the house next door.” You blinked, momentarily speechless. “Oh, hello,” you managed to say, trying to keep your voice steady. “I didn’t realize the house was sold.” His smile widened, and he took a step closer, extending a hand. “Yes, it’s quite recent. I’m delighted to meet you. I’m afraid I didn’t get a chance to properly introduce myself to the neighbors before now.” You hesitated for a moment before shaking his hand. His grip was firm but gentle, and his touch was unexpectedly cold. “I’m Y/N,” you said, trying to smile. Your throat felt dry and tight as you forced the words to roll off your tongue. “Welcome to the neighborhood.” “Thank you,” he said, his gaze lingering a moment longer than necessary. “I’ve heard good things about this area.” You glanced at the house he had just mentioned mostly so you had a reason to tear your gaze away from him. “Are you settled in?” “Almost,” The man replied. “Just a few more things to arrange. But I’m sure I’ll be very comfortable here.” The way he spoke, with an almost eerie calm and certainty, sent another shiver down your spine. “Well, if you need any help or information about the area, feel free to ask." You regretted your polite offer the moment it left your lips. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, his smile never wavering. “Thank you, Y/N. I’ll be sure to drop by soon. Have a lovely evening.” As you watched him turn back to the elderly couple, your heart was still racing. The encounter had left you with a sense of unease that you couldn’t quite shake but were too afraid to stay and look into it. You hurried inside, and after locking the door behind you, twice, you tried to push the strange meeting from your mind. It's fine, you thought. You just have a few difficult weeks behind you. But as you settled into your evening routine, the man's smile and those glistening fangs lingered in your thoughts, leaving you with a growing sense of curiosity and uncertainty about the new neighbor next door.

#monster romance #monster x human #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #sweet asks #vampire x reader #vampire x human #vampire boyfriend #monsterfucker

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aghostnamedcalamity · 1 month ago

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If this hasn't already been asked, what is Benjamin's favorite toy? If he plays pretend, what kind of stories does he gravitate towards?

His favorite toy is his stuffed bear named Mookie! Most of his play-pretends revolve around playing doctor, especially after Mordecai bought him a Little Family Doctor kit.

Here’s a little snippet of the fanfiction where Mordecai purchased Benji his stuffed bear! For context, Benji was just recovering from the flu and Mordecai visited an A&P store that were getting popular around this time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The black cat swiftly made his way through the vehicles passing by and came up to the large promotional signage decorating the store, gingerly pushing the doors open and entering.

As a first impression, he was unimpressed. It really wasn’t much different than the stores he was used to albeit a bit larger and whole lot whiter. He could only hope the hype was more in reference to the product available than anything else. It was, in fact, rather strange to see articles of clothing being promoted alongside dry food products.

Mordecai made his way to the counter as he continued to look about himself. The young attendee was a bright, yellow-haired girl wearing puffy sleeves and an apron with the company logo embroidered in the corner.

“Good morning, sir!” she greeted cheerfully with a large smile. “Welcome to A&P - the modern way to shop and the sure way to save! What can I get for you today?”

Mordecai stared dumbfounded at the girl, not quite sure whether he liked receiving a greeting as part of a promotional slogan or not.

“I’d like some tea,” he finally responded. “Earl Grey herbal. What brand do you carry?”

“What brands do you prefer?” the girl said. “We cater to your personal needs!”

“Twinings,” responded Mordecai, feeling himself becoming mildly agitated at the excessive joyfulness of the attendee.

“You’ve got it, sir! I’ll have it ready for you at the cash register,” the young lady said as she turned and weaved through the endless rows of shelves and boxes behind the counter.

Mordecai shook his head lightly as he watched with displeasure. As a second impression, he was still unimpressed. And, frankly, verging on developing outright dislike for the establishment.

As he waited with his arms crossed at the register, he let his eyes wander around the array of items displayed for customer viewing behind the counter and on the wall. At the window, a variety of toys sat and dangled, beckoning children to drag their unsuspecting parents into the store.

There was a stuffed bear with brass button eyes propped on a stand, staring out into the passing crowds on the street. He had brown fur and wore a bright yellow hat and raincoat with feet just a little too large for the rest of his body. Mordecai stared at the toy, pondering why a bear would need a hat and raincoat. And if he did need a hat and raincoat, why wouldn’t he need rain boots?

The black cat thought he recalled Benjamin going on about something regarding a bear that had a coat of some sort. He wasn’t entirely sure. Usually he’d just zone out when his son was being particularly talkative or passionate about some hyperfixation. But he did remember him ranting about someone wearing a coat and making funny voices on the radio.

“Do you like our new Mookie bear?”

He almost startled as the same attendee from before interrupted his focus. She had in her hand a tin of tea that she set in front of him on the counter.

“Mookie?” Mordecai questioned in confusion.

“Oh yes!” she continued and quickly grabbed the bear from where he was propped up. She brought it back to the counter and extended it out in front of Mordecai. “This is Mookie! He’s very popular right now. He’s got his own talk hour on the radio. The kids love him!”

Mordecai slowly reached up and grabbed the bear that was being offered to him. He held it in both hands as he stared at the layers of clothing it was wearing. Under the raincoat, the bear wore navy pin-stripped pants with a white collared shirt and bowtie. He was a very well-dressed bear, Mordecai noted.

“Toys are on sale today!” the young lady edged on in a sweet, encouraging voice.

“How much is it?” he asked.

“This little guy retails for $1.50 regularly, but today you can take him home for just $1.30!”

Mordecai grimaced. “That’s a bit steep for a stuffed bear, don’t you think?”

She shook her head in response. “Not for the most popular toy of the year. I’ll tell you what. If you decide to take him right now I’ll give you a discount from my manager! You can have him for $1.20.”

The black cat squinted at the bear as he pondered whether he really wanted the thing in his home. The bear looked nice enough, he supposed. The quality felt decent in his paws. He was also a quiet toy, which was something Mordecai continuously found himself on the search for. No shaking or rattling or whistling involved. Nothing to encourage his already-too-loud child to get over-excited with. He sighed dejectedly.

“Fine,” he said, handing the bear back to the attendee. “Just add it in with the tea.”

The girl quietly but excitedly clapped her paws together with a big smile before grabbing the bear.

“Wonderful!” she said, returning the bear to his place in the window. “I’ll be just one second, let me grab one from the back.”

Mordecai contemplated for a second and wondered whether he’d just been brainwashed or not. Would this constitute a brainwash? He shook his head in response to himself. He was fairly certain he was smart enough to avoid falling into up-charging schemes. The bear was nice enough, he justified himself. Benjamin would enjoy it.

He’d just grabbed the tin of tea that’d been sitting on the counter to inspect it when the young attendee popped back in holding an elaborately ribboned and wrapped gift box. She placed it on the counter in front of Mordecai where the tea had sat.

The dark furred feline stared at the present in confusion. He pointed at it and turned to look at the girl.

“What exactly is that?”

“It’s your Mookie bear!” the girl responded, beginning to add the costs onto the cash register.

“Yes, but why is it wrapped? I didn’t ask for it to be wrapped.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir!” the girl said. “I assumed it was for a child. Was it for you?”

Mordecai furrowed his eyebrows at the girl. “No, it’s not for me. I just don’t need it wrapped!”

“I see,” the young woman responded, placing one finger on her cheek. “Well, sir, I could always…unwrap it for you, I suppose. It’s standard company procedure to wrap toys and clothes I’m afraid. However, I should warn you that the cost of the wrapping is already included in the cost of the product and I unfortunately won’t be able to deduct that. Would you like me to unwrap it for you, anyways,?”

Mordecai sighed in despair, officially deciding he no longer cared for this store and would possibly never purchase anything here again.

“Just tell me what I owe,” he submitted, pulling out his wallet to try and get this transaction over with so he could leave already.

He felt ridiculous lugging the present around the rest of the walk home. It wasn’t a particularly large box, but it was so needlessly bright. Any chances of inconspicuousness vanished as it contrasted vividly against the darkness of the rest of himself. He grumbled in discontent as he made it home. It didn’t help that, thanks to the crowds of people alive and bustling at this hour, he felt the need to take an extra long detour to his home to ensure no one was watching him and this stupid clown box.

The black cat felt the exhaustion in every part of himself as he hung his house key on the hook by the door. He frowned at the box in his arm before tossing it on the couch dismissively and beginning the process of hanging his outwear

#thanks for the ask!#QnA #lackadaisy #lackadaisy oc #lackadaisy mordecai #I changed the design of the bear from the written description because I’m lazy to draw that every single time

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munsonsmixtapes · 3 months ago

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hurt/comfort with benedict maybe? maybe reader sees benedict dancing with another girl and notices how happy he looked (him of course just being polite) and she ends up walking away overthinking their entire courtship.

Absolutely! I'm currently reading Benedict's book in the Bridgerton series and am feeling my hyperfixation over him making a comeback lol

cw: hurt/comfort, jealousy

The Danbury household was filled with people who were dancing, laughing, and just generally having a good time. You found yourself with Benedict over by one of the windows and the two of you were giggling about something.

You had been courting since the beginning of the season and had been nothing but happy throughout it, your parents and Lady Bridgerton were thrilled when you made the announcement. In fact, both of your families had been elated when the news broke.

It wasn't surprising considering that the two of you had been inseparable since your meeting all those years ago and everyone had been waiting to see if you would actually get together.

You sipped on your lemonade and watched Benedict stare down at your with that grin that was reserved for you. With him, you felt like the luckiest woman since you had managed to snag the most sought after man in Mayfair and he was just as into you aas you were into you.

Your entire life, you had developed feelings for many boys, but they all seemed to pay you no mind. But the second you crossed paths with Benedict, you knew that it would be different. You were the one who fell first, but he definitely fell harder.

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours, hm?" He asked, resisting the urge to bring his hand up to your cheek. He didn't care if people saw but what he care about what them whispering about you. Rumors had spread about him, but he'd be damned if anyone said anything untrue about you. So he settled for linking his pinky with yours where no one could see.

"I'm just thinking about how lucky I am to have you," you told him with a smile.

"I'm the lucky one, darling, you know that," he smiled back.

"Why can't we both be lucky?" You asked and he nodded in agreement.

"I suppose you're right," he agreed, loving to see the bright smile on your face widen. He was so in love with you that he didn't know what to do with himself.

"I'm going to get some lemonade, would you like some?"

"I'd love some, but let me get it my love." That was the gentlemanly thing to do and he didn't want you to have to do it when he was perfectly capable.

"You always do it, let me this time." Before Benedict could protest, though, you were already heading towards the table. And he watched you, admiring how politely you spoke to the others that were standing around the table. You were so sweet and it always warmed his heart watching you interact with other people.

You spoke with Lady Danbury who was also by the table and she always seemed to have a lot to say and you didn't want to be rude so you just nodded and listened, only giving input when it was necessary. You wanted to get back to Benedict, not wanting to keep him waiting, but you simply couldn't just leave Lady Danbury in the middle of a conversation. That wasn't the kind of person you were.

"So how is it going with the Bridgerton boy?" She asked and that got your attention. You found any excuse to talk about him, just waiting for him to be brought up so you could gush about how lovely he was.

"He's good. We're happy." She couldn't help but notice the bright smile on your face, so happy that the two of you had finally gotten together.

"Oh, that is lovely to hear," her face lit up. "I have been waiting for this moment for a long time, but Ms. l/n, is that not Mr, Bridgerton dancing with Miss Ashbrook?"

You turned your head, and sure enough, Benedict was dancing with another woman. And she was beautiful and he was smiling. You couldn't watch for long because the whole thing made your stomach churn, a true stab to the back. Especially because they were engaging in your favorite dance.

"My, you are looking green," Lady Danbury pointed out. "Are you alright?"

You ignored her question and turned back to the dance floor, watching the man who you were courting dancing with another woman, twirling her around the room as if you had ceased to exist. You had to get out of there and fast.

"I'm fine, thank you, Lady Danbury," you curtsied before rushing towards the door, out into the garden.

Benedict continued to dance with Miss Ashbrook, completely unaware that you had fled at all. As far as he was concerned, you had still been talking to Lady Danbury. But when he turned in that direction, the woman had been alone. He frantically searched the entire room for you, not seeing your bright blue dress as all. Where could you have possibly gone?

"Tell me more about your lady," Miss Ashbrook spoke with a bright smile. "She sounds lovely."

The only reason why Benedict had been dancing with her was to be polite. And he had been gushing about you the whole time because he didn't want her to think that he was unattached. And she seemed to already know that, only asking him to dance because he was the closest and she didn't want a certain man to ask. It was just a favor and nothing else.

"My apologies, but I must go, Miss Ashbrook, but it was lovely to meet you and I'm sure that there's a suitor out there for you. Don't settle for less than what you deserve." He bowed as soon as the song was over and didn't even stay to hear her response because he was rushing over to Lady Danbury.

He slid across the floor, almost crashing into the refreshment table, but that was the least of his worries. He really needed to find you before you had gotten to far. He needed to know why you had left.

"Mr, Bridgerton, do be careful," Lady Danbury scolded and he was quick to bow before her, certainly not wanting to upset the host of the evening, especially not by breaking her table nor dishes.

"My apologies, Lady Danbury, but do you know where I could find Miss l/n?"

"She went to the garden," she responded then waved her hand, signaling that he should come closer so he bent down so that the two of them were eye level. "That is one of the most lovely women I have ever met and you should know better than anyone that she is beloved by everyone here so I suggest you not screw it up by dancing with women who you are not courting. Are we understood?"

"We are," Benedict nodded then raced towards the garden, searching every nook and cranny for you. His heart pounded in his chest as he realized that you were truly gone, that awful pit in his stomach forming.

But then he heard a loud scream that pit growing even larger as he hurried to where the sound had come from, another blood curdling scream tearing throughout the garden. Benedict ran as fast as he legs could carry him, feeling his chest tighten and his throat burn as his breathing picked up.

He got to where the noise had been coming from and felt a hoarse gasp leave his throat as he saw you on the grass, clutching your ankle with tears streaming down your cheeks. He rushed to you, crouching to sit on his knees in front of you, reaching for your hands, but you pulled them out of his grasp, looking at him as you hadn't wanted him to be there.

"What happened? Why did you leave?" There was hurt in his tone, but he was mostly just worried about you. And he hated seeing you in pain, both physically and emotionally.

"Oh, don't worry about me, Benedict," you snapped. "Perhaps you should just go back to Miss Ashbrook."

"Miss-darling, what on earth are you talk about?"

"I saw you dancing with her, Benedict. And you were smiling. It was almost like you forgot that were courting."

"Oh," he let out a chuckle that quickly turned into a fully belly laugh. How could you have possibly thought that he had been interested in anyone besides you? You had his whole entire heart and he wasn't going to give that to just anyone. It only beat for you so he supposed that you were the only one worthy of having it.

"I'm glad you think my pain is so funny," you reached up and swatted at his shoulder, but he was quick to grab your hand and press a kiss to your knuckles.

"My love, I was only dancing with her because she didn't want to dance with man who was going to ask her. And I was smiling because I was telling her about you." Your eyes widened and now you just felt like an idiot. Of course he would do something like that, because he was always trying his best to be polite. You couldn't believe you had let your insecurity get the best of you and almost ruined the best (only) romantic relationship you ever had.

"Benedict, I'm so sorry. I feel so stupid, I-"

"No," Benedict cut you off, his tone nothing but gentle as his hands cupped your cheeks, wiping your tears from your cheeks. "You're not stupid and have every right to be angry with me. I'm so sorry that I upset you and I hope you forgive me."

"Of course I do," you nodded, tears continuing to stream down your face that Benedict just wiped away.

"Good, because I have something for you." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring box, a gasp falling from your lips as he opened, a beautiful, glittering ring nestled inside. "Marry me?" He asked and you leapt into his arms, tackling him to the ground, your injured ankle completely forgotten.

Benedict was flat on the grass as you fell on top of him, your lips crashing to his, multiple yeses coming out of your both between each kiss. You pulled away long enough for him to put the ring on your finger and then you were back at it, lips slotted together as you both lied there in the garden, soaking up your alone time together before you went inside to make the announcement to everyone.

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton x fem!reader #bridgerton

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stvharrngton · 1 year ago

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kinktober: day twenty nine

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

kink: praise

warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, unprotected p in v, soft dom!steve

word count: 0.6k

taglist: @inkluvs @dukesmebby @sweetbabygirlsworld @kennedy-brooke @gvf23 @wheel-of-hyperfixation @mooonyweasley @steveshairspray @jjmaybankswifes-blog @steves-babysitter @vxoguesworld

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

“That’s it, baby. Oh, good girl.”

You let out a high pitched whine, blood rushing to your cheeks as Steve sank his cock into your wet pussy. You tried to hide how his words made you feel, how they had you instantly gushing around your boyfriend’s cock.

Try as you might, it didn’t work on Steve. You tried to cover your face, tried to hide your reddening cheeks or your wide, fuzzy eyes and he just couldn’t let you get away with it. He towered over you, his fingers curling around your hands and pulling them away from your face.

“Don’t be like that,” he hushed you, his lips pressing kisses to each of your hands, “wanna see my pretty girl.”

Steve took your hands in his, lacing your fingers together, pressing them into the pillow beside your head. He rocked his hips into you slowly at first, a deep, gentle rhythm as his cock stretched you out. He let the tip of his nose brush along the slope of your own, your eyes fluttering shut at the closeness of it all, at the pure adoration in Steve’s gestures.

“Much better,” he breathed, “there’s my beautiful girl.”

Your skin was on fire, everything red hot. Your mind foggy with Steve and nothing but Steve, the only thought in your head was doing everything you could to please him, to get him spilling those sweet nothings. And if that meant laying there, back pressed against the sheets as he fucked you nice and slow, taking every inch of his thick cock, then so be it.

“Please,” you whined out. Your back arched, pushing your tits into Steve’s chest, the coarse hair smattered across his chest scratching against your nipples. Squeezing his hands in yours, you wrapped your legs around Steve, your feet crossed at the small of his back.

“Oh, what’s the matter, baby, hm?” he asked, voice soft and sweet, his lips stealing kisses from you, swallowing your moans, “Does it feel good? You like when I fuck you like this?”

“Yes!” you cried, “Yes, God—,” you couldn’t finish your sentence, the sticky tone of Steve’s voice making you wetter, the soft touch of his lips meddling with your brain.

“Good girl,” he cooed, his forehead coming to rest against your own, Steve’s hips rolling against you, “such a good girl f’me. Taking my cock so well, sweet girl, doing so good.”

His words made your eyes roll to the back of your head, your jaw slack as you felt your pussy gush around his cock. Your slick coating Steve’s length, leaking down to your tight hole and onto the sheets. You felt lightheaded, like you were on cloud nine, Steve’s words spinning round and round in your head.

It didn’t take much more for you to be keening below Steve, mewling beneath him as his larger frame cages you in, the familiar beginnings of your orgasm creeping in. Steve let go of one of your hands, letting his own snake between your sweaty bodies, his fingers brushing lazily over your clit.

“Can you cum for me, honey? Wanna see you let it all go,” Steve whispered, “want you to cum all over my cock, show me what a good girl you are, yeah? Pussy feels so good, baby, fuck.”

The words were all it took to have you reeling, to have you creaming all over Steve’s cock, crying out his name in pleasure. He whispered over and over in your ear, how good you felt, how good you were doing, how pretty you were. It had your legs shaking and your pussy aching.

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #kinktober2023 #k.fic

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ch6sos · 8 months ago

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𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ teen!nanami headcanons

love my emo king so i decided to make headcanons for him because love himso sosooo MUCH <3 I am obsessed with nanami I am sorry guys for the amount of nanami but he is my beloved and my hyperfixation wooooooooooo

lmk if i should make an emo teen nanami as ur bf headcanon ill gladly do it sweetie pies

He is much quieter as a child and rarely speaks. I believe he will be more reserved as a teenager, not because he is shy, but because he dislikes talking to strangers. He is distant, but not unfriendly.

Haibara is the only person who is allowed in his room, and I do not make the rules.

Owned an iPod/iPod touch (even though Nanami is the Samsung king) and he would stream his little emo bands.

As a teenager, he appears to be more immature and irrational, displaying difficulty in controlling his emotions sometimes. Despite his calm exterior, he is still a teenage boy so he has regular outbursts here and there.

HATED IT when he tried one of Shoko’s cigarettes; he most likely took one puff and began to cough as though he was going to die.

Sassy king who rolls his eyes and emo hair flips at least 7 times per second, 24/7.

“Nanami, can you do that thing?”

"Do not bother me at this time, Gojo."

“OH MY GOD YOU DID IT.”

"What did I do."

"The hair flip thing... hahaha you need to cut your bangs."

"I prefer to keep it this way so I can focus on you with one eye and spare the other from seeing more of your face."

Haibara is an extrovert who encourages him to attend events and socialize with others.

His backpack is tidy. His books are neatly organized, and his papers are not crammed together.

He was forced to go to karaoke rooms with Shoko, Geto, Gojo, and Haibara, where he would sit and listen to them sing loudly.

"C'mon, Nanami... sing!"

"..."

“Please?"

"..."

It turns out he was singing all along, albeit softly and quietly, while they sang along loudly to the screen lyrics.

He spaces out a lot when people talk to him because he just wants to go home.

Haibara is subtly affectionate towards him, wrapping his arm around his shoulder like many guys do. He doesn't push him off, but the other guy freezes and maintains some distance.

He once woke up from a nap and found himself wearing eyeliner, black nail polish, and eyeshadow. He immediately ran out to scold Gojo (it wasn't just him) (but he secretly liked it).

"Gojo, what the fuck is this?"

"This is your culture!"

"Please refrain from touching me while I am sleeping."

“Hey! Who said it was only me?”

“Jesus Christ.”

Probably got a double helix piercing (that eventually healed when he became an adult) (sorry guys).

(Though he still has his earlobe piercings as an adult, he just never really wears earrings anymore. Though you can see the various holes.)

Geto accompanied him to get piercings, and despite feeling nervous at first, he ended up loving the experience and feeling badass.

"It feels good, right?"

"Oh, yeah, I suppose," he mumbled, trying to suppress a broad smile. As he arrived at his dorm, a dorky grin spread across his face. He stood in front of the mirror for several hours, hyping himself up.

Listens to My Chemical Romance, Nirvana, Van Halen, Metallica, Guns N' Roses, AC/DC, Linkin Park, Green Day, Foo Fighters, The Strokes, and Paramore. And more. :)

He would probably like gothic characters from cartoons or shows, like Raven from Teen Titans.

If you quietly make your way into his dorm room while he's listening to music, you'll catch him singing out the lyrics to his beloved emo songs. As the music moves him, he'll start air guitaring and air drumming with fervor. However, if he catches you witnessing his private performance, you'll see a flicker of embarrassment cross his face.

Gojo once tried to dye one of his hair strands purple or blue, but he failed. Instead of turning the strand the desired color, it only lightened his hair slightly, resulting in a lighter shade of blonde that looked like gray hair.

"Gojo, you made me look like a grandfather. I should've done it myself.”

"Looks great on you, Nanami! Fits you too since you kind of act like a grandpa.”

"Oh you, son of a—"

He secretly owns a Tamagotchi named Helena after remembering it is a My Chemical Romance song.

Wept when they split up.

Has secretly attended several concerts, raves, and gatherings, enjoying the kindness and energy of the events.

Has previously used an Ouija board with Gojo, Geto, and Haibara, and the "spirit" liked him.

He goes to the Japanese equivalent of a Hot Topic to get his clothes.

He smells earthy and musky because he is emo, and he probably has a cologne fragrance bottle shaped like a skull.

He rarely posted on MySpace, and when he did, it was only about his music and book reviews.

Likely wore a fake lip piercing, a silver skull necklace, and one of those spikey emo bracelets.

Read Scott Pilgrim comics for a while.

He was not too dry, so he used emoticons like "-_-" "-.-" "._. ".-." "^_^"

In his spare time, he enjoys reading books about horror and mystery.

Owned a black Nintendo DS and always handed it to Haibara so he could play with it. Was not upset when Haibara accidentally dropped it in the water, but was sad that he lost his Pokemon progress.

Never had a genuine crush on someone, though when he does he becomes shy and awkward around the person he has a crush on, often finding himself avoiding them like the plague. Whenever he catches sight of them, uncertainty clouds his mind, nerves all over the place.

Despite his efforts to suppress his feelings, they only seem to intensify. This is his first experience with a serious crush, and his initial reaction is to try to shake off the emotions, but he soon realizes that he can't - he's simply head over heels in love.

Whenever he sees them, he does a cute, dorky thing - he goes to his mirror, fixes his bangs, and hypes himself up. He sprayed more cologne than usual, coughed a little, and made sure his skull necklace, helix piercings, and slight eyeshadow looked good. He gives himself several minutes for a pep talk because he still gets so nervous.

He fidgets a lot, constantly finding ways to occupy his hands even when he appears outwardly calm. It's as if he can't help but engage in some form of repetitive movement, whether it's tapping his fingers, twirling a pen, or adjusting his sleeves.

He also stammers a bit sometimes especially when talking to someone he likes.

Talks to Haibara about how he feels most of the time. Out of everyone he trusts Haibara.

He draws on himself when he is bored. He intended to get a tattoo, so he drew on himself to see how it would look.

He has a journal, emphasizing that it's not a diary, where he writes down his emotions. He finds solace in jotting down his innermost feelings as he often struggles to express them verbally.

In his journal, not a diary, he vents a lot. He is frustrated with himself because he is so bad at expressing his emotions. When he wants to, he can't, and he just pushes people away, which he despises.

"Sometimes I wonder why. Why do I have to be like this? I do want to talk to people and express my emotions to them, but I could never. It genuinely scares me, and that is something I want to fix about myself."

Owns several band shirts and wears them to bed. When he is older, they're smaller on him. I wonder why.

When he's out with Haibara and the group, he always wears his headphones and drifts off while listening to music.

“NA-NA-MIIIII!”

*pretends not to hear gojo*

In the modern world, he would be the quiet student who consistently gets top grades, sits at the back of the class, and rarely participates.

When someone shares the same interests as him he tries not to look too excited but ultimately fails.

As a teenager, he adamantly refuses to pursue a romantic relationship but secretly desires one to fulfill his need for affection.

Thus, he spends his time reading romantic novels, gaining insights into how the male protagonists treat their significant others. This newfound knowledge inspires him to learn how to treat his future significant other.

Even though he is mature for his age, he sometimes wishes he had been raised differently. He genuinely feels like he is wasting his youth by not spending more time being a teenager.

Converse + Vans are his specialty and they’re all beat up.

He sees Geto as a fashion inspiration because he is another emo king.

When he's not in uniform, he enjoys wearing oversized, tucked-in T-shirts paired with sleek black pants and a studded belt. His fingers are adorned with multiple rings, and he complements this look with a sleek black watch.

He always spends an extra dollar to buy someone something from the vending machine. Need a soda? He gotcha.

He always seems to be munching on something, whether it's the crunch of Doritos or potato chips. However, he doesn't seem to have as much of a sweet tooth.

an emo king who deserves the world

a/n: i love my goat

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merrybloomwrites · 20 days ago

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Lil Forehead Kiss

Summary: You're known amongst your friends as the person who give out hugs, high fives, and platonic forehead smooches to everyone. Except your crush. What happens when you slip up? Will he reject you, or will it open a door to a new possibility?

WC: 1.6K

AN: Thank you @wtv-my-current-hyperfixation for requesting this story! This fluffy piece is based of this request and it was a joy to write!

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If there’s one thing you’re known for, it’s being a very affectionate person. You never shy away from showing casual affection to your friends. It’s second nature to you to lean in for a hug or reach for a high five each time you see someone.

You’re always cautious about not crossing boundaries with people, and you know who doesn’t like to be touched, and you make sure to respect that and give them their space.

Especially since it’s not always just hugs and high fives. You’ll hold hands, give little shoulder rubs, even press a friendly kiss to someone’s cheek or forehead. It’s no big deal to you, and you’ll give everyone who likes it this treatment, doesn’t matter if they’re a girl, a boy, nonbinary, makes no difference to you. Everyone deserves a little love!

But then there’s Damien. The one person you struggle to show this affection to. Not for a bad reason, but because, well, you have a crush. Have since the day you met him. Which was on your second day as an editor for Smosh Games. Probably not the best time to develop feelings for a coworker.

He’s just so funny, and sweet, and gentle, there’s no way not to love him. But he doesn’t need to know that. Honestly you’d probably die of embarrassment if someone found out, especially if Damien himself were to find out.

So you keep your distance from him. No hugs, no hand holding, no platonic smooches. Because with him, you’re not sure you could keep it platonic. Best to avoid the situation all together.

Damien has noticed that you’re less tactile worth him than others. He’s admittedly a little bummed about it, but he keeps that to himself. He knows that when he started at Smosh, he told people he wasn’t a huge fan of physical contact.

So really it seems that you’re just respecting him by giving him his space.

But he wishes you wouldn’t. Partially because it seems nice to get random affection throughout the day. But mostly because he may be secretly harboring a bit of a crush on you.

So he starts dropping hints that he’s not quite as anti touch as he made it seem. On an episode of Smosh Mouth he tells the story about the pranks that were common when he started at Smosh.

“You somehow seemed to avoid those pranks,” Shayne says.

“Because I told everyone I don’t like being touched,” Damien replies. “Which isn’t totally true but kept me from getting ice cream down my pants.”

They both laugh at this, remembering the ridiculous shenanigans of older era Smosh.

“I thought that was interesting,” Shayne says. “Because I remember back during the So Random days you never said anything about having a problem with like, hugs and things like that from friends.”

“Yea it was really just to protect myself from the craziness here. I’m good with hugs and high fives and stuff, especially from friends,” Damien explaineds.

“What about lil kisses?” Amanda asks with a smirk.

“Oh, big fan,” Damien says. “Gettin a lil kiss on the forehead? Sign me up!”

“Really?” Shayne says. “I did not know that.”

“Absolutely, can’t beat a forehead kiss.”

You’re glad that you’re listening to this episode while alone in your car, because your blush at this conversation would be very telling if anyone were to see.

Well damn. There goes your excuse to keep away from Damien. More than that, you now want to give him a kiss just to see how he’d react. Would he give you that big smile that you love? Would he grow pink and bashful? You need to know.

But you can’t. Because you don’t trust yourself to not give away your secret. You have to keep your distance and if anyone asks, you’ll just say it’s force of habit. Yea, that’s a good plan.

And the plan continues to work.

Until the day you slip up.

It’s a Games shoot, and Damien, Courtney, and Shayne are all squished on a couch to play some classic Mario. You smile watching Courtney and Shayne banter. It’s always fun to watch them, especially now that their secret is out and they feel more free to interact however they want to.

You find yourself daydreaming about how it would be if you told Damien about your crush and he reciprocated and the two of you fell in love and lived happily ever after.

The shoot starts and shakes you out of these thoughts. Time to focus on work. You’re there to help out with tech as needed, but also because you’re a pro at all things Mario. Since you’ve appeared in a few videos, you’ve gained a bit of a following. So the idea today is that you can make a cameo to help the three if they get stuck at any point.

It happens about half way through. After nearly a dozen attempts, they can’t get past a certain level. You’re called in, and you walk on the stage before leaning over the back of the couch. You’re between Damien and Courtney, and you try not to act like the schoolgirl with a crush that you are when his hands brush yours as he passes you the controller.

It takes you three attempts to pass, and you banter with the others while you play. Everyone cheers when you finally succeed, and Damien says, “And this is why Y/N is the queen of Mario here at Smosh.”

You laugh at that and turn to press a kiss to Damien’s head. Realizing what you’ve just done, you do your best to keep cool. You ruffle both his and Courtney’s hair as you pull away from the couch. The fans are aware of your tactile nature with your friends. Hopefully they’ll think this is just that, you being friendly.

When you make it off stage again you look back and catch Damien’s reaction. He’s definitely blushing, and when he catches your eyes he gives you a smile. It’s small, soft and shy. You smile in return but quickly look down before he can see how smitten you are.

For the remainder of the shoot you can’t help but sneak glances at Damien, surprised and flustered every time you see him looking right back at you. When they finish filming you see Damien walking over, and you quickly think of a question to ask Alex. Anything to avoid having what’s likely going to be a very awkward conversation.

Unfortunately, it’s the end of the day, and Damien doesn’t have anything else he needs to get to and therefore has plenty of time to wait for you to finish your conversation.

“Hey, you got a sec?” he asks as you turn to him.

“Yea, of course, what’s up?” you reply. Maybe this isn’t about the kiss. Maybe this isn’t about the looks you were giving him. Maybe you aren’t about to die from embarrassment.

“I was hoping we could talk for a moment. Just us?”

“Sure!” you reply as your heart rate increases. The two of you walk out of the room together but not before you see the cheeky and hopeful looks from Courntey and Shayne.

Damien leads you to a small meeting room that’s not in use, closing the door behind you to ensure privacy.

You brace yourself for a potential rejection, so you’re more than surprised when Damien blurts out, “I like you.”

When you don’t reply right away he continues, saying, “Sorry, I wasn’t planning on saying it like that. But I do. Like you. Have for a while. And I figured you probably saw the way that kiss earlier made me melt so I felt like I should come clean and tell you.”

There’s another silent moment before your brain finally catches up. Damien’s shy smile has started to fall when you say, “I like you too!”

The smile comes back, as does the flush on his cheeks and he says, “Really? I hoped, but never really thought you did because you always avoided me when you were so tactile with our friends-”

You cut him off to explain, “I avoided you because I liked you. I thought that if I was the same way with you I’d open up this whole can of worms about feelings and crushes and thought it was safer to just, you know, keep that all bottled in.”

“I guess that’s smart. Because the second you came near me I knew I was not keeping my secret anymore.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” you say, so happy this is finally happening, and it’s going better than you ever could have imagined.

“Do you wanna, uhm, maybe go get dinner?” he asks.

“I’d like that,” you reply.

“So it’s a date?”

“It’s a date,” you confirm.

The two of you leave work and meet up at a restaurant nearby. You have a wonderful time together, chatting about work and life and divulging how far back your crushes on eachother go.

When it’s time to say goodnight you lean in for a hug. He holds you tight for a moment, and this embrace feels different than the ones you share daily with your friends. There’s more feeling, more promise behind it. He’s leaning down just a bit, allowing you to press another kiss to his forehead as you pull away from the hug. He does the same for you, and the two of you stand there smiling, your insides warm and fluttery, full of hope for what’s to come.

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AN: Thank you for reading! I don't currently have any other Damien ideas in the works so feel free to send requests for stories with him!

#damien haas x reader

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lumiolivier · 3 days ago

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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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just-some-random-blogger · 2 years ago

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(Not At All) Secretly Into You

Pedro Pascal x Reader

Summary: Pedro thinks the best way to be slick about his crush on you is to be 100% unabashed about it. Ha ha! No one will expect that he has feelings for you if he's outright about it!

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: gender neutral reader, Actor/Actress!reader, the use of y/n T_T, dummy!pedro, fluff, crackfic, typos, etc.

A/N: i cant help myself. i just head empty only pedro look at this gif people. take a good long look at him. what is it about him that has us in such a chokehold? i think this is the tipping point of humanity. what is it about him that has us like this? 😩 HES SO STUPID AND DUMMY HELLO?! he needs to be stopped. he needs to be jailed. or better yet SOMEONE MARRY HIM SO THAT WE INHERETLY GO OH SHIT ITS OVER SOMEONE WON T_T thank you for reading my little rant Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @amis-love-bugs @top1bbgloak

Let me set the scene for you It's a cold, rainy day. There's a person all alone in their bedroom. They're bored AF. They look up, 'movies to watch 2023', and finds a film they're interested in. It's staring Pedro Pascal & [Y/N]. It's good. So good. Too good. It becomes their personality. They begin to hyperfixate. They look for other related content. Behind the scenes. Interviews. Interviews. They fall in love with the dynamic of the main characters IRL. They hyperfixate on them. They're not the only one in this boat. They search for other content. They stumble across a fan edits. Fan edits. Their mouth waters at it. They watch it.

Here's how one of them starts:

Hello.

After watching the movie of Pedro Pascal and [Y/N] and going absolutely feral (GO WATCH IT WIMPS) I have taken it upon myself to do a thorough investigation of their relationship (because I am CERTAIN they smashed and BY THE POWER OF ANIME I'm going to make it certain YOU think it's certainly so) so-

Without Further Ado, I present:

They Smashed, And Here's The Evidence.

You and Pedro are doing an interview answering questions while eating snacks from your respective hometowns. This is a snippet from that interview.

Cut scene, the question, which is read by a staff member off camera, is 'what is your favorite thing about the other?'

"You know, what my favorite thing about you is?" Pedro asks, albeit somehow rhetorically, as he chews on something. He was looking at you when he asked this. He watches with crossed arms as you struggle to open the snack packet.

His eyes dart to the small, plastic wrapped cookies as you sigh in defeat and hand it to him. He grins to himself, dramatically rolling his neck before he takes it from you and begins to open make his attempt to open it. Because of your lack of response, he asks as he rips at the package, "do you want to know what my favorite thing about you is?"

"Not really, no," you say, crossing your arms, knitting your brows, shaking your head.

Pedro makes a face looking out to no one in particular. He turns to you, just as he opens the wrapper, "meanie."

You beam, claiming the treat he hands it to you, "thank you."

He watches as you carefully get a cookie for yourself. Pedro looks at the camera, "as of this moment, I rescind any positive feelings I may have ever felt for-GRFF-"

You shove a cookie in his mouth as you excitedly moan and speak half-muffled with a full mouth, "it's still good!"

Pedro chews on the cookie.

"I used to love these when I was like," you raise your hands, "this big."

It takes a few moments for you to merit a response.

"You're literally still that big, what do you mean?" Pedro says.

You give him a second's glance as you clear your mouth, "talk to me like that after you retire your heels to join the 6 feet and above club."

Pedro shakes his head and rolls his eyes, "You're not even getting anywhere near the entr-"

You shove another cookie in his mouth, effectively cutting him off.

"My favorite thing about Pedro is when his mouth is shut."

Pedro's chews viscously, rolling his eyes all over again. He looks into the camera with a wholly exaggerated look. He then scoffs loudly, throwing his head back, crossing his arms all over again, mouth half-full, "you better pray you can keep your mouth shut later tonight."

Cut the cameras.

Did yall hear that?

WELL LET ME MAKE SURE YOU DID

"You better pray you can keep your mouth shut later tonight."

Later Tonight

Later Tonight.

WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING LATER TONIGHT AND CAN I PLEASE PARTICIPATE?

Now, ok, if you're some weird puritan that got mixed up in this mumbojumbo for lolz and you're thinking, 'oh maybe they're going to play Uno. Uno is pretty intense.'

you're wrong

get the fuck outta here /:

Now.

I raise you some out of context clips that give off domestic energy.

Clip #1: In the subway

Quite literally, it's a video post on your Instagram of you and Pedro riding a slightly packed metro in New York. You're holding your phone closely to you. It's showing both yours and Pedro's double chin. The only reason why you're recording is because he's singing a children's song from Barney, 'And The Green Grass Grows All Around' under his breath. You ardently hold back your laughter as he begins to do the gestures.

>>>COMMENT SCREENSHOT: @ pascalispunk : it's a bop, fam. 😔 why'd you have to play me like this @yn_000 replied: literally no one said it wasnt a bop my love @ pascalispunk replied: i love it when you call me your love 💗

IN FRONT OF MY FUCKING SALAD.

THE SHEER AUDACITY OF THESE LOVE-DOVEY SEWER RATS. I DEMAND SATISFACTION.

Clip #2: The Breakfast Person

"I'm not really a breakfast person," you casually admit, mid-interview.

Pedro audibly gasps, "you're not a br- Wait, no, suddenly that makes so much sense. You stuff your face so quickly during lunch."

You slap him on the chest, "hey!"

Pedro snorts, "it's okay, baby, I gotchu," he begins to cook on his imaginary pan, "bacon and eggs, pancakes, oatmeal, whatever, I gotchu."

"You make oatmeal in a pan?" you ask, furrowing your brows.

"Only for the people I love," he smiles and leans towards you. He begins to make a weird laughing noise that sounds part motorcycle, part massive idiot who's so damn annoying.

You take a seconds look at him before smacking him on the face.

Cinematic parallels.

Clip #3: Our Fridge

"There," Pedro holds up the portrait of you that he had been completing the entire interview.

You look up from your own paper and break into hysterics. You lean into your knees from where you sat, nearly toppling forward. Pedro chuckles as he reaches out to you to keep you from falling. You lean back in your seat and wheeze, "what IS that?"

"What do you mean," Pedro grins, "don't you recognize yourself?"

You make a face as you catch your breath. You point to the top area of his paper, "is that supposed to be an eye?"

Pedro looks at his creation, "no, that's... that's that-- but this is your eye."

"You mean to tell me you drew me one eye?"

"I took creative liberties."

You chuckle in disbelief, "this man just told me he thinks I look like Mike Wazowski."

"Mike Wazowski wishes he'd look half as good as you, mi amor."

You turn to the camera, "I don't know how I feel about that."

"Which part?"

"Every part!"

"Well," he rips the page off the sketchpad, "better put this on our fridge."

"We are not putting this on our fridge."

"Why not?" he whines.

"Well, besides the fact it's ugly-"

"WOW," he trails off loudly, "just because it doesn't meet twisted societal beauty standards doesn't mean it's ugly."

You simply shake your head, "that is not going anywhere near our fridge."

PEDRO SAID BOO YOUR PETTY SOCIETAL BEAUTY STANDARDS 😩😩😩

YOU TELL EM PEDRO.

Also, they really said

OUR FRIDGE

And I think that's beautiful.

And now quite possibly, the most damning evidence of all.

THIS.

You and Pedro are sat next to each other on a sofa across an interviewer during one of those fan meet interview sort of segments. It's a fan cam, and from the angle in which this particular audience member is sat, its very much visible that Pedro, with his arm slung on the top of the back rest, was drawing circles onto your back. You do not outwardly react to his touch at all. [THIS RAT SO USED TO IT FFS]

You turn to Pedro and ask on through your mic, "what do you think?"

He says 'huh' off mic, then straightens up and brings his mic to his lips, only to give you a confused look.

"What do you think of that scene?" you repeat, brushing his brows with your thumb in affectionate annoyance. [BOO 👎 PDA BOO TOMATO TOMATO TOMATO 🍅🍅🍅🍅]

"Oh," he says, "that scene," he nods his head and widens his eyes at you, hoping you'd help him out.

The crowd laughs. [SIMPS smh]

You only mimic his wide eyes and offer a raised brow.

Pedro and you stare for a moment. Ultimately, he sighs and rubs your nape with his fingers, "fine-" the person recording says 'WTF' "-I have no idea what you're talking about."

There is a chorus of laughs.

"I'm still on the part where you said I was hot when I was covered in blood."

The crowd screams. You roll your eyes. Pedro laughs as he literally grabs your neck and pulls you into him, crushing you against him.

The crowd goes wild. The person who is recording is cursing.

Deep breath. FIRST OF ALL-

The person recording's a real MVP for managing to keep (relatively) calm while witnessing the gall of those two to do that in front of EVERYONE'S SALAD.

Second of all, aint no way, aint NO WAY you let someone like tHIS-

-with his itty bitty tiny waist and manhandle you like THAT in, and I can't stress this enough, FRONT OF EVERYONE'S SALADS, and not do anything further. It's science.

You're honor, the ruling, please.

100% Guilty of ✨Smashing✨

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal crackfic #pedro pascal social media au #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal x actress!reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #help me im so tired #pedro pascal x you

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psiroller · 8 months ago

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in which chilchuck tries to get some but ends up a sucker to his caretaker instinct once again

i just wanted to write something where chilchuck unironically indulges laios' hyperfixation, lol. im folding this into something larger but it kind of stands on its own for now, so here.

“Hey,” Chilchuck slurred. An arm crawled around Laios’ shoulder, stirring him from his reading. “What are you doing up? It’s my shift.”

“Just research,” Laios replied cheerily. His eyes were drawn back to the book and away from Chilchuck, something that elicited a soft huff of irritation. “I’ll still be good to take over for you. I’m kind of wound up, you know? Couldn’t sleep.”

“Yeah,” Chilchuck snickered, his hand brushing across Laios’ chest with just a bit too much pressure to be purely friendly. “I’ve been wound up, too.”

Laios met Chilchuck’s lascivious gaze with concern. “Are you starving yourself again? You wouldn’t have such bad insomnia if you ate well.”

“I got wine, there’s nutrients in that,” Chilchuck giggled, giving Laios’ tit a fond pat. Laios smelled the drink on his breath and the hair on his neck stood on end.

“On an empty stomach? Chil…” “What you getting worked up for? I’m fine. I know what I’m doing.”

Laios’ brows furrowed. Chil stared up at him, waiting for him to back down, and the smug smirk only widened when he didn’t.

“You gonna force-feed me or something? I didn’t take you as into that kind of thing.” “Knowing how depraved you are, you’d enjoy it if I did.” Chilchuck scoffed. “Oh, yeah, you’re one to talk—”

Laios closed his book. “You’re being reckless,” he declared, in that know-it-all leader tone. Rarely used—Laios hated using it—but terse enough for Chilchuck to tilt his head and shut his mouth for a minute. Not long enough.

“Being a little tipsy doesn’t mean my eyes and ears don’t work,” Chilchuck groaned, pulling away and slumping onto the next step up from the one he was perched on. “It’s not my job to fight them anyway. All I gotta do is throw the bottle at your head and I’ve done my part.” “I’m not talking about the party, Chil.”

Chilchuck shrunk away from Laios and crossed his arms.

“When did you become such a nag?” Chilchuck groaned. “I’m older than you. I know my limits.”

Laios turned from his seat on the floor, rising on his knees, invading Chilchuck’s space. He braced his arms on either side of Chilchuck’s lap.

“Do I have to say why?” Laios rumbled. “If you don’t want me to care, stop making passes at me.”

Chilchuck clucked his tongue. “Didn’t have to hit on you to get you to take a few quills to the back for my bony ass.” “So much for never talking about that again.”

Chilchuck grinned. Laios’ eye twitched, knowing that Chil knew he’d taken the bait. Chilchuck reached up to cup Laios’ face; Laios let him, unfortunately.

“You can relax, big guy,” Chilchuck said, and the softness in his voice made Laios deflate all at once. “I got by just fine until you hired me. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I want to believe you,” Laios murmured. Chilchuck could feel the muscles of his jaw working as he spoke, the weight of his heavy tallman skull in his palms. “I do. But you don’t know—" “I’m fine,” Chilchuck asserted. “What’s got you so…?”

He stopped, bit his tongue. Laios looked up at him with those insufferable, upturned puppy dog eyes, deep amber in the low firelight, and he remembered. Chilchuck let out a long-suffering sigh, stroked up his cheek into Laios’ hair and scratched his scalp.

“We got this,” Chilchuck said. “It’ll be alright.” Laios slumped forward into Chilchuck’s lap, thick jaw slamming down onto his legs like a harpsichord lid, and Chilchuck squawked. Laios turned his face into the loose-fitting, threadbare slacks Chilchuck normally wore to bed, sucking in a long breath that made his back rise and then letting it all out through his nose. It reminded Chilchuck of Leed’s wargs after a good dinner, resting their big, wrinkly heads on any friendly knee and whining for attention.

Chilchuck scratched at his sideburns. He knew propositioning Laios would be risky in the dungeon, but this wasn’t the kind of disaster he’d envisioned if it went wrong. His hand came to rest on Laios’ back, and he rubbed it along the length of Laios’ spine. Laios’ broad body sunk that much further into his lap. Chilchuck’s calves were going numb, but he held deathly stll, as if he’d scare Laios off. As if he didn’t want to scare Laios off and get out of this mess.

“We’ll find Falin,” Chilchuck said. “We did it before, and we’ll do it again.” Neither of them believed it, really, but it was a nice thought. Maybe if they chanted it enough a spell would be cast. No mana sickness yet; they’d have to keep at it.

“I’m pretty confident about that,” said Laios, muffled in Chilchuck’s legs. His breath puffed warm on his thighs in short, controlled breaths. “But if we do and we don’t get her, if the Mad Mage takes care of us, then—it’s not just Falin, anymore.”

Chilchuck’s breath caught. His fingers curled in Laios’ shirt and tugged fitfully. Laios didn’t budge.

“She used to be all I had, you know.” Laios hugged Chilchuck’s pins-and-needles calves, which further trapped him but also returned some level of blood flow. Small blessings. Chilchuck wished he were dead. “That was fine. It was—better that way. Less to worry about. Then I found a nice girl, and I proposed—"

“Wait, what?”

“—she was so cute, so nice to me, but when my father said Falin would have to leave, I couldn’t just leave my little sister to rot somewhere, so—I broke it off. It didn’t matter, if I could earn enough money and Falin would be okay—”

Try faking a heart attack. You have the plausible deniability. “He… sent Falin away?” He was dimly aware of Marcille and Falin having met at magic school. “You were supporting her?”

“—but I didn’t even—need to. She was happy where she was. And I still—I still dragged her here, let her get eaten, let the Mad Mage take her. What kind of brother—”

Chilchuck gripped the back of Laios’ skull and pulled at his hair, not enough to move him, but enough to shut him up. He let go and ruffled it instead, soothing out the tension in his scalp. Laios melted, limbs melting to the stone tunnel floor.

“I see why you’ve been so wound up,” Chilchuck said. “You’ve just been sitting here and spiraling. Are you even reading that book?”

Laios squeezed Chilchuck’s legs to his chest. “Not really. I’m looking at the words but I’m not… retaining anything.”

That’s bad. “Let me see it.” Laios looked up at Chilchuck with confusion, then distrust. “Please?” That only confused Laios further, but he lifted the worn old tome from the floor for Chilchuck to take.

“Dragons of the Eastern Archipelago,” Chilchuck read out. “Another cookbook, eh?”

The jocular tone whiffed right past Laios’ ears. “It’s… not really research,” he admitted. Chilchuck thumbed through the pages—there were many detailed technical sketches of long-bodied, short-limbed dragons with horsehair and deer antlers, strange boggling eyes and stretched lips. More impressionistic doodles filled the margins, with scrawled-circle eyes and jagged teeth, little flared scratches of the broad side of a pencil representative of dragon fire. Their fat snake bodies had wobbly, uneven sides and sloppily looping scales—but some were a little more distinguishable as a dragon than others.

“Ah.” Chilchuck cleared his throat. “Nothing wrong with a little light reading, I guess.” He tried on a smile. “The, uh, pictures are nice.” “I kept telling Falin that long don’t breathe fire,” Laios said, voice tight, “but she kept saying it would be cooler if they did.” “That’s what they’re called? Longs? Seems kind of on-the-nose.”

That managed to get a laugh out of Laios, but it sounded more exasperated than anything. “It’s just one of the native words used for them, but it’s not Shuro’s language, apparently. The word he uses is ryu.”

“I haven’t seen anydragons other than red and green. Maybe it’s just the dungeons I’ve been to.” Chilchuck said. He winced, realizing he’d just stumbled over a lecture topic, but Laios stayed folded across his lap, seemingly having gotten comfortable there, and stayed quiet. The silence made Chilchuck’s hair bristle. Chilchuck nudged him, knuckles against Laios’ temple.

“C’mon, man, I set you up. Go on.” “Now you’re just making fun of me.” “Seriously, Laios. I really want to know this time, and you’re gonna sulk about it?”

Laios turned up from his lap to read Chilchuck’s face, though he never seemed to be able to get it right all the other times he’d attempted it. Chilchuck heaved a melodramatic sigh and patted Laios’ head, an action that lowered his hackles. It really shouldn’t have worked that easily, but Laios closed his eyes and hummed.

“There are… so many kinds,” Laios said dreamily. Dread began to creep in on Chilchuck’s charitable mood, but he’d talked himself into a corner. “They’re super adaptable. Pretty much anywhere you have a dungeon or an ecosystem robust enough to support one, you can find a dragon.”

“I’ve, uh, heard about white dragons. Furry ones, kind of like these guys, but with wings and the stocky body type. Never seen one, though, so it could have been bullshit.” “Oh, they’re real. Pretty common up north.” “Do they really breathe ice? How does that work?”

“Basically, yeah. It’s super-cooled air. They have huge lungs and a fuel organ like a red dragon, but instead of burning the waste matter inside, it liquefies it into a kind of slurry—” Chilchuck grimaced, but Laios was already talking with his hands and not measuring Chilchuck’s enthusiasm. “—that undergoes a rapid chemical reaction when exposed to the air the dragon exhales.”

“Huh.” Chilchuck absently stroked the back of Laios’ neck. Laios squirmed, but didn’t complain. He slipped out of his kneeling position to sit flatter against the wall, head still flopped over Chilchuck’s lap but looking outward toward the fire. The angle looked uncomfortable, so Chilchuck dropped a step lower, letting Laios slide over just a bit more, lay more solidly in Chilchuck’s lap. Laios’ ears had turned red. “Y’know, I always just figured magic did it. I never knew any of the biology until I met you.”

“You wouldn’t be wrong for thinking that way,” Laios half-shrugged. “They wouldn’t exist without some kind of mana source, so they’re still a product of magic. But to sustain the kind of huge, complex bodies dragons have on mana alone would starve the ecosystem, so they have to develop organs and bones to keep them upright and moving to serve their purpose.”

“To destroy whatever enters their lair?”

“To survive.”

“Same as the rest of us, then.”

Laios hummed. Chilchuck’s wrists had begun to hurt from holding the book, so he propped it up on the crown of Laios’ skull. He didn’t seem to mind.

“So what’s this big pearl they keep drawing the long dragon with?” Chilchuck asked, even though the answer was right beneath it, indicated helpfully in a list of figures.

“Oh, that’s an egg, believe it or not.”

“No kidding.”

“Dragon clutches start out pretty big, but because of how demanding the hatchlings are, most of them don’t survive to adulthood. Some species of dragon choose a ‘favorite’ out of their eggs to focus on and raise instead…”

Chilchuck smiled into the palm of his hand as Laios rambled, flipping through the book to keep his eyes open as Laios talked, listening as the spaces between words grew and his tangents unspooled, dissolving into dreamlike nonsense. The weight of Laios’ head got heavier in Chilchuck’s lap until the static crept back in, but Chilchuck had no intention of moving him anymore. It was well past the scheduled watch shift change by the time Laios began to softly snore, but Chilchuck didn’t rouse him.

#chilaios #dungeon meshi #ficroller #if you recognize the dragon egg factoid i know what you are

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