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Hiiii
Sorry that my asmr channel is having issues right now :((( for now enjoy this clip
"Darling, come a little bit closer” – Astarion personal attention ASMR
➹pairing: Astarion x You , Astarion x Reader (fem implied)
➹summary: “May I assist you?”, this question from him, was incredibly dangerous. Another jolt to your heart. Astarion untied the lacing of your shirt at your back. Every move of his hands on your body while opening the strings - every time his head almost tickled your neck was a sentiency of whispering excitement. His lips so close to your throat and your ears. It felt like he breathed his undead life into you, into your heart, your soul and every fabric of your existence. Your hammering heart prevented you from turning around to catch a glimpse of Astarion once your clothes had completely fallen to the floor.
➹content/tags: romance, comfort, praise, personal attention, hair play, hair brushing, ASMR, spending time with Astarion ➹word count: 3,483 ➹ao3 ➹ for: @pinkberrytea Happy Birthday 💕🎁💌 ➹ a/n: I know a written form is the contrary of everything ASMR does, but me and pinkberry are huge fans of it, so I promised to write an asmr personal attention/role play inspired Astarion fic. Shout out to all my favourite asmr artists from YT, your content was the muse to this. Second VP by Agata.
“Ah, there you are, darling”, alone the sound of his voice sent a chill down your spine and made you almost shiver. You hoped your cheeks would not flush, to give you away.
All this only with a few words rolling over his lips. They were like silk, like a psalm that caressed your ear and gently stroked your cheek. Made every rough moment from today redundant and vanish like morning dew with the rising power of the sun.
“You had a hard day, didn't you?”
“How…how did you know?” The iconic giggle escaped Astarion’s throat and tingled your senses, tingled and chimed like bells of sarcastic irony.
“How I noticed, you ask? Oh, my sweet little darling, I do not need a tadpole, that tells me you are a bit worn down. I don’t mean it in a bad way of course. You look a little exhausted and I could give you some attention to help you to relax, if you want to. I promise, I am good at it.”
His sonorous voice roared like a symphony, while the red rubies of his eyes stared into yours always so eagerly.
“That’s why you came to me, didn’t you?”, the pale elf added and the glimmer of his vampiric look steered into your soul like a blood moon.
The way Astarion locked with your eyes made your heart already race faster in anticipation. A look and invitation no one could deny and ever resist.
It made you forget the whole world around you. Even if it would have ended, you would not notice it in the slightest, because now there was only you and Astarion. That was the way he made you feel when being the focus of his attention.
His hand reached out for yours, to guide you to his tent and making any kind of contradiction impossible. You felt how the skin in your palms touched, when your hand glided into his, offered gentle guidance and oh so more gentle touch. It was the feeling of touching silk, tracing sheer soft perfection with your humble fingers.
.
The already lit candles bathed Astarion's tent in a pleasantly warm light. Its dancing flames tickled your ears with their faint crackling, as did Astarion's shifting movements behind you. With a rustle, the tent's entrance tarp closed behind you, leaving the world outside — a world you had long since ceased to notice and both of you stopped to perceive.
The vampire’s tent, in the faint dance of the candles, had become an enclave of peace and warmth, while his chill body behind your back was a storm of electricity.
“Here, I have finished the dress that you asked me to mend for you.”
As Astarion presented your dress, the fine fabric made a soft susurrant noise. The subtle sound of the cloth's fabric under the delicate touch of his tender hands showed the care and diligence with which he had handled your garment. And yet, it conveyed so much more than that — how fond, caring, and affectionate his whole converse was.
“Try it on for me here, so I can see if everything fits,” these words rolled from his tongue and over his soft lips like velvet. Another chill down your spine.
“And when you’re all dolled up, you feel so much better, don’t you?”
.
With a little uncertainty - which was perhaps more excitement - you began to take off your boots and opened up the buckles of your clothes.
“May I assist you?” This suggestion, this question from him, was incredibly dangerous. Another jolt to your heart.
The sensation on your skin was thrilling, as the fine hairs on it stood slightly erect by his mere presence and almost electrically charged with the coldness of his vampiric liveliness.
Astarion untied the lacing of your shirt at your back. Every move of his hands on your body while opening the strings - every time his head almost tickled your neck was a sentiency of whispering excitement. His lips so close to your throat and your ears.
It felt like he breathed his undead life into you, into your heart, your soul and every fabric of your existence.
With a swishing sound, your clothes slid off your body. Slowly slipping from your skin to the floor. With every inch they fell - revealing you - the excitement surged through your veins, your ears, and your skin, becoming increasingly charged with anticipation.
There was a short sound of breath that escaped the vampire’s mouth at this very moment - at the sight of you uncovered body before him. A barely perceptible click of his tongue.
Your beating heart - hammering against your chest - prevented you from turning around to catch a glimpse of Astarion once your clothes had completely fallen to the floor. Had you done so, you would have seen his eyes sparkle even more. Dancing at least as much as the candle flames, wanting to envelop and caress you as they caress the wick. You would have seen his delighted expression:
Perhaps only a twitch of the corners of his mouth, a brief brush of his tongue against his lip, but only because he concealed any further expression with restraint.
Finally, the elf with pointed ears, a sharp tongue, and the evening stars in his eyes helped you to slip into the strapless dress.
The fine fabric crinkled over your skin, tickling your senses, but certainly not as much as the presence of the vampire who surrounded you.
“Let me take a look”, he walked around you, sharp eyes on your figure, “ah yes, perfect.” The dress or you?
You would never know, but the slight smile upon his lips promised everything. And maybe nothing at all at the same time…
Astarion made your head spin, made it impossible to think straight and rational. He was too close. You two, alone in his tent…candles and the endless night around you as well as ahead of you.
“Just a few adjustments to make it fit even better. If I may be so bold…”, Astarion stepped forward and began to tug the dress in the right places, “and then we can create a beautiful overall look for you.”
His trained eyes were focused on the seam of your dress at your chest, using delicate fingers to pull it into the exactly the right position.
The soft sound that his hands made upon the fabric of the dress tingled your ears, not to mention his fingers so close to your chest, your heart beating for him.
A living, beating heart, hammering for the undead vampire.
You heard the rustle that came from his white shirt, as he moved in inspection around you. His hands gliding over the material.
You inevitably had to take a slightly deeper breath.
Bergamot, rosemary and well aged brandy.
You inhaled the scent of Astarion.
Deep into your lungs, preserved it there for the eternity. Treasuring him for eternity inside of your heart.
He the endless, always being, always young, always beautiful child of the moon. Favourite of the stars. Lover of the morning star.
.
“It sits rather nicely and I really like how it shows off your shoulders and beautiful collarbone.”
You almost forgot what he said over the sudden touch of his hands on your bare skin, as they followed his own words in delicate caress. Astarion’s finger danced over your skin like the faint whisper, the slight breath of the wind. A whispered promise.
“I also really like the details of roses around the hips”, he shifted back in front of you and the fingers of the rogue stroke over the embroidered rose patterns, right under your bellybutton.
His eyes remained fixed on the fabric, as if it were only the dress he was touching and not you.
And you were glad that he didn't raise his gaze, didn't look at you with his penetrating crimson eyes, because it would have completely taken your breath away and clouded your senses.
“Do you like it too?” “Yes,” you managed to whisper with the greatest difficulty.
“Yes what?”, and there it was, the dreaded look of his red eyes, which he raised towards you from beneath his lashes.
Staring into you. Teasing.
A dangerous, wicked game.
“I like the roses on the fabric, as well,” you said, making every effort to keep your voice steady and not let him play with you too much.
Astarion knew what he was doing. He always did.
Or not? Or was he just like that? Did he just come across that way to you, without trying, without wanting to achieve anything, and it was just down to you that he made you feel that way?
“Shall we have a look at some jewelry that we can combine with the colour of the dress? I think we should have found some by now, that I kept in my box and was not traded at a merchant so far.”
A jewelry box appeared in front of you and Astarion carefully selected a few pieces.
He held a beautiful silver necklace set with glittering crystals that caught the faint light of the candles.
The elegant, silvery-white shimmer even glistened gorgeously at this night hour in his tent.
“Darling, come a little bit closer now,” Astarion said, so he could put the necklace on you. A normal request, a normal instruction.
But not with this voice, not with this eternal whispering and murmuring of endless promises and teasing.
Not with that gleam in his vampire eyes from full-bodied red wine. Intoxicating.
The clicking noise of the individual clanking chain links gave you a pleasant tingling as Astarion approached you.
Of course, he bent over your shoulders from the front to place the sparkling necklace made of silver and white crystals around your neck.
Why did he have to do that? Why did he have to do it like this?
Once more came the scent of bergamots, rosemary, and brandy so close. Threatening to cloud your senses and whole mind. You almost held your breath as Astarion's white curls and pointed ears brushed against your cheek, along your own ears, to catch the clasp of the chain at the nape of your neck under your hair.
You wanted to hold your breath, yet you wanted to inhale his perfume.Inhale him.
But you were filled with a fear that he could hear your racing heart, perceive your excited, trembling breath.
His attentive elf ears so close to you. His hair caressing yours.
.
“Looks nice, doesn’t it?” Astarion leaned back, but his hands remained on the piece of jewelry around your neck, perfectly positioning it over your collarbone.
It almost tingled - his fingertips upon the gemstones of the necklace, while his hands repeatedly brushed gently against your skin doing so.
“Here, and this for your beautiful wrist,” he graciously tucked up a bangle matching the necklace over your hand and slowly turned it back into position.
“It complements the colour of your dress”, Astarion said, while his fingers danced once again over the white gemstones on silver background. This dance from the rogue’s hand upon the glistening beads gave a soft clattering rhythm and the gentle sound waved over your whole body, down your spine. A matching rhythm to the electrifying chill you felt, when he touched you so carefully. Almost like a holy statue.
“You're not going to say anything like: a diamond for a diamond,” you taunted the elf with a playful smile, at least trying not to remain too impressed, too bonded by his presence. His proximity. At least you tried.
Astarion's expression lit up with a simultaneous sharp laugh from his throat. He sounded almost impressed and deliciously amused by your audacity: "HA! That would be too cheap even for me."
His lips curled in amusement as he fixed his gaze upon you.
“Cheeky little pup,” he glared at you with his red eyes, “I take such good care of you and you turn sassy? Very daring of you.”
“I just wanted to tease you.”
“I see,” the calm way Astarion responded and finished his little remark, as if he were leaving the rest open, leaving unsaid what he was thinking. But the sardonic blaze of rapture in the rogue’s eyes and that amused, unpredictable smile upon his lips spoke volumes.
.
With a short rustle of his shirt, Astarion bent to the side again and returned with a kabuki brush made of fine badger hair.
“However, I am a master of my art. And when I do something, I do it right,” your pale friend stepped behind you, and the moment he reached for your hair, let his hands slide over your shoulders, you almost felt like shivering under the touch of his soft hands.
Was this his revenge for your little bantering?
You felt Astarion setting your hair aside, so he had now a look on the warm skin of your back, that was displayed by the strapless dress.
“To let you shine, matching to the jewelry I would apply one or two tiny little drops of oil on your skin with this brush. It completes the final look.”
And there it was – the sensation of the heavenly smooth brush tiptoeing over the bare skin of your back, your shoulder blades, like the wingbeat of an owl. Silent in the night.
It felt so soothing, like a lullaby. Taking all the stress and tension away, making the thoughts of the rest of the day simply disappear. Fading into the night.
“See, it is very soft and so gentle…will you let me do this?”
Astarion scolded you for messing with him, though his voice in that very particular tone was pure tease. All of this to be precise - while he let the silky touch of the caressing bristles run over your spine.
“Like you said, you are the expert here. I trust you,” you heard yourself reply with a tender voice.
“I see”, he said once more in calm soft tone, with this could mean everything and nothing at all at the same time.
So, two drops of aloe oil landed on the brush and began to stroke oh so gently over your chest, your collarbone, over to your shoulders and down over your upper arms.
Like the touch over a lover, his gentle kisses upon your skin.
Without haste or hurry, Astarion let the smooth bristles distribute the hint of oil in circular movements over your body.
The brushing and stippling tone caressed your ear at least as much as the brush caressed your chest.
It felt incredibly calming, comforting, and soothing. An instant stress relief, what induced heavenly relaxation of your whole body. This attention and little treatment of Astarion made you feel cared for and peaceful. It pulled you into this present moment with him, his touches, his care and helped you get out of your head. Out of anything bad that happened before, what had made you tired. Now you only felt tender.
Thanks to Astarion’s solicitude he bestowed on you tonight so gently and generously.
After a while in silence, once he had perfected your style, the pale elf took another look at you. Luckily, it was night, and the dim light would hopefully conceal any flush of red on your cheeks as his gaze, appreciative and affectionate, wandered over your body. Again and again. Until it always lingered last on your eyes. Staring right into you.
“Your skin now shimmers so beautifully in the candlelight. The glow of the candles catches on your chest and reflects there,” Astarion gushed, sighing briefly, “this really makes me miss my reflection once more. But being able to see you and your body like that is a good compensation for it.”
His gaze lifted from beneath his long lashes, sparkling like a thousand diamonds. The stars in the night sky that Astarion bore in his name.
Not to blush was impossible.
You felt like avoiding his gaze, lowering your sight to the ground.
Astarion made you feel too many things all at once.
.
“Oh,” he sighed sadly and clicked his tongue, “all that changing of clothes and putting on the jewelry has now completely messed up your hair.”
His playful expression shifted with a hint of a smile on his lips - that bore the glance of anticipation - to your slightly nervous look.
“If you promise to stay still, I’ll take care of your hair.”
As if the answer would ever be no.
Your eyes followed Astarion, as he reached for a hair brush and guided you kindly to sit down with him on the cushions at his tent.
He was so close, so unbelievably close once more, as he stroked your hair with his attentive fingers ever so gently.
The pale elf parted the individual strands and shifted them to the side. Your eyelids fluttered slightly as Astarion's fingers ran through the hair at your temples. The brushing sound went right from your ear, over your spine, through your whole body, straight down to your toes.
His gentle touch was dreamy - felt truly magical for you at this peaceful moment. Soft fingers tracing your hairline and the playful twirling of strands of your hair was deeply relaxing and kept sending shivers down your back.
You began to close your eyes while he styled your hair and you enjoyed the brushing noises of the bristles, gliding through it.
The rustling of your hair under Astarion's touch and his thoughtful combing was always accompanied by a swishing sound of the rogue’s movements, his shirt slightly crunching or his brushing wrist.
His other hand running through your hair, or touching your shoulders at all times.
The vampire’s physical touch induced tingles, calm and created real pleasure inside of your body as well as the mind. You forgot everything that upset and wore you down today. There was only Astarion left to exist.
“You have such beautiful hair. You're almost giving me competition,” he spoke with a soft, lowered voice, accompanied by his typical touch of playful teasing. His fingers touched your sensitive temples. Every stroke through your hair a sensational tingle.
Steady, deliberate motions of brushing like a rhythm and his play with your hair created almost a meditative state for you.
You drifted into deep relaxation and the elf for real helped calming your nervous system, eased any tension from your rough day and anxiety feelings that bore in your chest and head. Just as he had promised.
In this very moment with Astarion, you felt safe. Even though his closeness was thrilling and felt exciting, it also tapped into a sense of being cared for and looked after. The oh so scandalous vampire provided comfort and grounding deep inside of you. As if you had known him for a very long time.
Maybe your heart did.
.
“Perfect”, Astarion put the brush down.
“Are you sure?” “Absolutely, my dear”, you almost could hear the smile with an undertone of pride in his voice.
As the pleasant tingling sensations from the soft strokes, this gentle rhythmic massage of your head and mind ended, you slowly opened your eyes again. Maybe a little involuntarily.
Like pure instinct, there was a grateful smile upon your soft lips as you looked at Astarion. The appreciation just as the relaxation clearly visible in your eyes.
“Thank you”, it drew from your lips like a faint kiss and you couldn’t stop looking at him with endearment. Pure fondness.
“It was, so to speak, a pleasure, my dear. After everything you did for me, all the burdens you took away, it was the least I could do for you”, this sounded surprisingly kind for the vampire, but he was sincere with every word. It was a moment only the night bore in the caring duality of the two of you.
“And for what occasion would I wear this eminent look?”, you thought out loud, taking a perusing, detailed look at your rig-out, “what do I do now? Now that you styled me so beautifully? Waste your work or show it around camp?”
The eyes of yours kept inspecting your own figure.
“Will you stay with me here tonight?”, his sonorous voice whispered softly without looking at you. A little prayer in the night.
“What did you say?”, you were unable to stop blinking. It was only a soft breath of air, but you heard him. Nevertheless, you wanted to be sure you hadn't misheard.
Astarion opened his eyes to you, and it was him who came closer now. So much closer.
“Darling”, his voice purred against your ear, but sincere and honest, while his lips of sheer silk and velvet tone, stroke against the skin of your lobe, “will you stay?”
Happy birthday @pinkberrytea 🌹💕🌹
a/n: You all, please let me know if this is a "must repeat" and you want more, maybe a sequel. And if you prefer the reader/you to talk or if the you should be completely silent and you only hear Astarion talk and your answers are only implied like in real asmr.
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…”
Imma project for a moment but Stan and Ford would both have Personal Attention kinks. The idea of someone spending undivided time on them for nonsexual or judgemental reasons, especially in the prospect of talking about them and their welfare would send them through the roof.
Imagine, Stanley gets this intimate time with a doctor where they continously use his full first name, where they listen and take genuine consideration for his habits and problems, and making him a top priority during their visit to help him. It would make him so jittery and on edge. The idea that someone is touching him, talking to him, paying him special attention, trusting him, would make him want them even more.
For Ford, it's a similar experience except he's focusing a lot on the fact that someone is caring about him, and not the other way around. And instead of it being like from a doctor, it could come from a self care professional like a massage therapist. The act of being cared for while still relaying a level of professionalism and knowledge would send him spiraling.
Now mix these two together. Ford performs a very professional check up on Stan while Stan works out the knocks in Ford's body. (I like to think that Stan remembered the lessons his boxing coach taught him about releasing muscle pain.)
I made a 2nd channel and tried a new thing 🌞🔉
Mechanical sounds, shuffling and petting, bells, marker on paper, soft tapping, quiet empty ambiance...
It's my first go and not the best, but hope y'all will have fun anyway! Er, as much fun as you can have with a clingy bot staining your face with permanent marker... I'll work on a Moondrop one after a while >:3c
ASMR Glow ❤️
ASMR Perfumer Reads Your Personality & Creates Your Signature Scent 💤🌸 Personal Attention
Une vidéo ASMR en français tous les mois 🇫🇷
View asmrglow’s Linktree to discover and stream music from top platforms like YouTube, Spotify here. Your next favorite track is just a clic
This script is inspired by @NoraASMR and @maisundergroundasmr3796 , two of my favorite ASMR artists!
Ever since Y/N started working in the intelligence sector, Keegan and Ghost have been vying for her attention. Although she doesn’t have to be on the front lines often, Ghost, her roommate, still worries about her safety. Consequently, he frequently takes her for training sessions. However, today, Keegan seems to have some opinions about the lieutenant’s behavior...
PS: English is not my mother tongue so please bear with my awkward accents :(
Tags: [Roleplay] [Game Character] [Call of Duty] [Ghost] [Keegan] [Friends to More] [Love Triangle] [Flirty] [Jealous] [Possessive] [Tsundere] [Personal Attention] [Fluff] [MM4F]
music: HOME - BrockHampton
Voice Training and Voice Acting: Me
Script: Myself
Editing: And I Sound Effects: JianyingPro ————————————
Where to find me:
AO3&Wattpad: @AUV666
小红书&BiliBili：@AUV这不是小白龙吗
