#she can be naive and a bit too trusting? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

glossdebut · 2 months ago

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PRICE OF FAME | MYG ★ 01

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SERIES SUMMARY: You were about ready to give up, your career nowhere near what you dreamed it’d be when you started at eighteen, bright-eyed and naive. Reality for you these past few years has consisted of pouting at a camera, ignoring whispers of your name at company events, and ensuring that the stupid, tiny designer purses they keep forcing on you can at least carry a flask. But now, you’re helping a friend in need. For the first time in a long time, it feels like you’re doing something worthwhile with your life. Too bad Min Yoongi, the newest thorn in your side, seems insistent on stopping you.

✧ SERIES TAGS: enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, smut, fake/pretend relationship (not main couple), rockstar!yoongi, model!reader, guitarist yoongi, singer jungkook, bassist taehyung, drummer jimin, manager namjoon, yoongi & maknae line are in a rock band, reader & seokjin are best friends, yoongi & hoseok are best friends (sope duo ftw), yoongi has a tongue piercing, reader is a brat

✧ CHAPTER WARNINGS: recreational drinking, yoongi is an asshole (see series masterlist for series warnings)

✧ CHAPTER WORDCOUNT: 6.1k words

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: NEW ERA NEW ERA NEW ERA! whew!!! i’m excited for this one! this is going to be a loooong ride, so buckle up and enjoy! please note the slow burn tag on this one, because i’m not joking around with it. trust me, it’s going to hurt me just as much as it hurts you.

a HUGE thank you to tanni @yooniivrse for continuing to beta read for me <3 your commentary never fails to make me laugh and your edits save my life.

P.S. everything i know about the korean music industry is informed by my years as a kpop fan. i don’t know much about the rock scene there, so expect inaccuracies galore going forward. i do my due diligence where i can, but that can only help so much.

CH. 01: ALL YOU PEOPLE ARE VAMPIRES!

You aren’t entirely sure when you stopped feeling at home in places like this. There has to be some kind of defining event, some kind of indicator of The Before and The After, but every time you try and figure it out you come up short.

In The Before, not all that long ago, you would be scrounging for the bus fare rattling around in your pockets to get to a place like this as soon as you punched out from your shift at the Speedy Mart.

During your short stint in college, your friends didn’t understand your obsession. Music venues, to them, were fun for a weekend’s night out. The thrill of flashing a fake ID, of flirting with the musicians after their set, of getting said musicians to buy them drinks—it was a satisfying rebellion, a fun story to tell people at school and hide from their parents.

But you were there every day, even after classes and graveyard shifts under fluorescent lights, always racing to the nearest show without even changing out of your polo. It was never a rebellion to you. The lights, the thumping bass, the secondhand smoke—it made every nerve ending in your body light up.

You were born in this smoke, as far as you’re concerned.

Maybe it’s different now because it’s work to be here. But what isn’t work, these days? Your life is micromanaged down to the minutiae—the meals you eat, the products you use in your hair, your goddamn piss breaks. There’s no clocking out for you, no gasp of relief that comes after. Such is life for one of Seoul’s many playthings.

Even in the dead of winter, your stylist, Hyerin, has you in a dress that begs to be pulled down every five minutes like clockwork.

You learned a long time ago to bite your tongue on matters like this. The brands you work for pay you for the exposure you give them, after all. The chill that settles in your bones from the ten steps you take from your paid car to the venue door will be well worth it next time you count the zeroes in your bank account. At least, that’s what Hyerin told you as she pushed you out of the car and into the cold.

Wasteland looks the same as it did the very first night you ever stepped foot inside. Same red, glowing guitar sign above the entrance. Same shitty overpriced drinks. Same sticky floors. It’s nice that some things never change even when you do.

You’ve never been on the balcony, though. You’ve gotta hand it to Jeongguk—he’s really pulling out all the stops. To your knowledge, the balcony is normally reserved for VIPs. Close friends and family of the band, other celebrities, lucky and well-connected fans. Significant others. You suppose you fall under more than one of those categories now.

The crowd gathered on this side of the stage buzzes incessantly around you, waiting for the set to start. The excitement is palpable, and you understand why. It’s the very last show of Burn The Stage’s very first world tour following the release of their third studio album, and they’re ending it here: in Seoul. At Wasteland no less, the venue that housed the show that got them signed in the first place. Of course people are excited.

If you were the same person you were in The Before, you would be, too.

Instead, as the stage lights go down and the crowd roars around you, you down the rest of your drink and pray it’ll do its job and calm your fidgeting. For a split second, the thought that maybe you shouldn’t be drunk tonight passes through your brain, but it disappears as quickly as it comes. Your hopes of making a good first impression were squandered as soon as Hyerin zipped up your dress.

Besides, it’s not as if Jeongguk picked you for your shining reputation. More like the opposite.

With a flash of lights and a cacophony of sound, Burn The Stage launches into their first song on the setlist. The crowd roars around you, but you’re not here as a fan, so you try to remember everything Jeongguk taught you in preparation for tonight.

If you weren’t already close, most everything there is to learn about Jeon Jeongguk himself could easily be found with a simple Naver search.

Not only is Jeongguk the lead vocalist and rhythm guitarist of Burn The Stage, but he’s also the de facto face of the band, and he couldn’t be better suited for the job. He’s beautiful. Like, seriously beautiful. Well-built and knows it, sings songs about love and sex and anger with the sweetest voice known to man, covered in tattoos and piercings that eommas everywhere pretend to disapprove of when they’re actually ogling just as much as their daughters. He’s a teenage girl’s wet dream, and with that comes hordes of them using the deductive skills of the NIS to figure out the last time he took a shit. Very little in his life is a secret, whether he likes it or not.

The rest of the band, in turn, gets the luxury of a little bit of mystery.

Park Jimin, the drummer, and Kim Taehyung, the bassist. Jeongguk’s best friends in the world. You’ve met them both in passing before, at industry events here and there, and they both seemed nice enough.

Jimin has a bit of a reputation for being temperamental, angry, but the way Jeongguk describes him paints him as something gentle. Childhood friends who’ve known each other since scraped knees and runny noses.

It’s public knowledge that Jimin wanted to be a dancer, before this—that when he was in college, he suffered an injury that ended his dancing career before it even started. One moment he was one of the most promising ballet students in Seoul, and the next he was retired at nineteen. He doesn’t like to talk about it, but every time the band is interviewed the question is inevitably asked. Do you have any regrets? You’ve watched the videos, seen the way he shakes with anger even as he answers with a saccharine smile. You have a feeling getting along with Jimin won’t pose any challenges for you. You know a thing or two about regrets.

Taehyung is a bit harder to figure out, but not in any way that sparks concern. He’s just an interesting guy that way.

He was the last to join the band, the first to answer a ‘BASS PLAYER NEEDED’ ad posted around the city. Apparently, he was so good that they didn’t feel the need to call anyone else.

He lives in his own world, does his own thing. Posts very artistic photo dumps on his Instagram with concerningly cryptic captions. He’s quiet when he’s around people he doesn’t know, but when he’s put in a room with Jimin and Jeongguk he becomes the loudest person there. He’s kind, caring, always seems to know the right thing to say even if it’s delivered in the strangest manner possible.

Jimin and Taehyung won’t cause any problems for you. Jeongguk assured you that they’d be easy to win over, that as long as Jeongguk likes you, you’re in with them.

The real wild card is the guitarist. Min Yoongi.

According to Jeongguk, Burn The Stage wouldn’t even exist if it weren’t for Yoongi. When the band formed, they were just dumb kids with a shared dream, but Yoongi was the one to set it all in motion.

When they didn’t have anywhere to practice, Yoongi convinced the ajumma he worked for to let him cram as much equipment as he could fit into a tiny noraebang room. When venues wouldn’t book them without the guarantee that they would draw a crowd, Yoongi burned hundreds of CDs and stood on the streets of Hongdae begging people to listen. When shady entertainment companies started offering them laughable contracts, Yoongi found Namjoon and somehow convinced him to manage them for dirt cheap. When they finally got an offer worth taking, Yoongi made them mull it over for as long as they possibly could. Weigh the pros and cons and decide if it was what they really wanted.

If Jeongguk is the face of the band, Yoongi is the heart. Unfortunately for you, this particular heart is very well-guarded.

Yoongi takes his privacy seriously. He refuses to answer interview questions he deems too personal, he doesn’t use social media. When asked why, his answer is always that he wants the music to speak for him.

Because that’s another thing: every single song that Burn The Stage has ever released has been penned by Yoongi. To his credit, it’s kind of what they’re known for. His lyrics have a raw honesty to them that’s gotten the band into trouble more than once.

You finally tune into the show that’s unfolded below you, the words spilling from Jeongguk’s lips loud and clear in your ears now that you’re paying attention.

Well, I ain't got no dollar signs in my eyes That might be a surprise but it's true Said, "I'm not like you and I don't want your advice Or your praise or to move in the ways you do and I never will" 'Cause all you people are vampires And all your stories are stale And though you pretend to stand by us I know you're certain we'll fail

It’s rock music. It’s polarizing, controversial, edgy. Biting the hand that feeds them—especially in the eyes of the executives lining the band’s pockets, you’re sure. And yet everyone eats it up.

Still, Yoongi wouldn’t get away with half of it if he wasn’t attractive, you’re sure of it.

Because he is. Attractive. They all are, and he’s no exception. He checks all of the boxes annoyingly well. The long hair, the signature smirk, the little silver barbell on a tongue that he seems all too happy to flash at a moment’s notice. Too bad he seems like one of those pretentious, tortured artist types that take themselves way too seriously. That’s never done it for you.

Jeongguk is the one singing Yoongi’s words, and he might as well be Korea’s sweetheart—if it weren’t for all the tattoos. He conveys the message of Yoongi’s songs exactly as intended, but he doesn’t have to act like an egotistical gatekeeper to do it.

Maybe it’s a preference on your part. You’ve always had a thing for sweetness.

★ ★ ★

After the concert, you’re ushered off of the balcony by one of the band’s security guards. It’s the same guy who escorted you up when you arrived, and you note to yourself that he’s very polite. Eunwoo, according to his nametag.

It tracks, given Burn The Stage’s reputation for making sure the women at their concerts feel comfortable in the crowd. You’ve heard stories about them stopping mid-song to have handsy men kicked out, and it’s nice to know their commitment extends to the people they employ for themselves.

Eunwoo offers you his hand palm-up as you descend down the balcony stairs, and you take it with a grateful smile. You’re feeling wobbly in these shoes, and the drinks you’ve downed since your arrival aren’t helping matters. Even with the assistance, you still feel like a baby giraffe as you step down, but thanks to Eunwoo, you don’t eat shit.

Eunwoo dutifully guides you backstage, to a grimy, graffitied hallway housing the dressing rooms for Wasteland’s talent of the night. Jeongguk waits outside of one of them, guzzling down a bottle of water as a female staff member dabs sweat off of his forehead with a pristine white towel. She’s only there for a moment before slipping back through the dressing room door. Finally noticing your approach, Jeongguk turns his head and grins at you, and you feel your nerves ebb away instantly. He’s good at that.

As you get closer to Jeongguk, you turn to smile and nod at Eunwoo in thanks. He smiles back politely, wordlessly falling back to give you some privacy.

“Daaaamn, YN-ah,” Jeongguk says, whistling lowly as you reach him. “You’re going to cause a bloodbath in there.” He nods his head towards the dressing room door, and you roll your eyes despite the heat building in your cheeks.

“I know, I know,” you say, smoothing your hands over your dress. “It’s not exactly a meet-the-family outfit, but I didn’t have a choice.”

“Nah, it’s cool. You look hot,” he says, grabbing your hand and making you do a spin, forcing a surprised laugh out of you as you try not to trip over yourself. Jeongguk keeps you steady, though, with a hand on your shoulder. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you say, although you’re sure your face gives away how terrified you are of what awaits you on the other side of the door. “Maybe you should’ve picked an actress for this, though.”

“I trust you,” he says softly, squeezing your shoulder. “It’s not too late to back out, though. I’ll understand…”

You believe him, of course. Those doe eyes don’t lie, and even so, he’s already told you over and over how bad he feels for asking this of you. But you don’t want to back out. Jeongguk has given you so much since you’ve met—it’s only right to try and repay him for it.

“I want to do this,” you assure him, reaching up to squeeze his hand on your shoulder. “I’m just worried I won’t be able to pull it off.”

“You will,” Jeongguk says, smiling down at you warmly. “Don’t sweat it too much, okay? We’ve got this. It’s not like I have to pretend to like you.”

Right. You wish Jeongguk’s words did what they were meant to and instilled some kind of confidence in you, but what they actually do is make your chest ache uncomfortably. Pull yourself together, you think. Now’s not the time.

You smile good-naturedly, hoping Jeongguk doesn’t notice the way it doesn’t quite meet your eyes. “Let’s get this over with,” you mumble.

“That’s the spirit!” he laughs, sliding the hand on your shoulder around to the other one so his arm is slung around you. You hate the way your heart flutters, despite the fact that you’d prepared for this. Dumb bitch.

Jeongguk cracks the dressing room door open just enough to ensure that all of the men inside are decent, and then he’s guiding you inside, your hands flying down to smooth your dress over again, just in case.

The dressing room is bustling with more people than you expected, people you recognize from the balcony and staff alike. There’s a fast-paced rock song playing over a bluetooth speaker, almost loud enough to drown out the chatter.

Everyone seems to be in celebration mode after the last show of the tour. There’s a large sheet cake on a cart in the middle of the room emblazoned with the band members’ faces in frosting, plastic champagne flutes littered around the room in varying states of fullness. Judging by the bottle in his hand and the way staff members wipe at his face fussily, it seems like Taehyung took the liberty of pouring champagne over his head to cool off.

You’re used to having lots of eyes on you—it comes with the job—but something about the way Jeongguk’s bandmates immediately stop what they’re doing and take notice of your presence startles you, puts you on edge.

“Jeonggukie! You missed the cake,” Jimin calls, standing up from where he sat on the couch. He holds out a slice of the sheet cake to Jeongguk, tilting his head at you as he approaches. “Where do I know you from?”

Jeongguk removes his arm from your shoulders to take the plate, snorting at the image of his decapitated cake-head staring up at him. “Hyungs,” he says, grabbing a plastic fork and digging into the slice. “This is YLN YN.”

“Oh, we’ve met before! The model, right?” Taehyung pipes up from where he’s still being wiped down, and you nod politely. “I saw your Innisfree campaign last month. I couldn’t remember whether your skin was really that nice in person.”

You watch as he extricates himself from the staff, ignoring their protests as he walks away from them.

Taehyung gets close to you, close enough to inspect your pores like he clearly intends to, and you fight the urge to instantly recoil. Jeongguk seems too busy stuffing his face with cake to interfere, and you want to make a good first impression. So much for your personal bubble.

“It is,” he says, nodding sagely to himself.

“Th-thank you?” you stammer. Beside you, Jeongguk finally tunes back in.

“Jeez, hyung,” he says around a mouthful of cake. He chews for a moment, swallowing thickly before continuing. “Let her breathe.”

“Sorry,” Taehyung says sheepishly, backing out of your personal space, and you let go of a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, shaking your head.

“It’s fine,” you say, mustering a polite smile.

You note that despite his initial (albeit subtle) acknowledgement of your existence when you walked in the door, Yoongi now seems entirely disinterested in interacting with you. He hasn’t moved from where he’s planted on the couch, focused intently on strumming his guitar. How he can even hear what he’s playing over the noise is beyond you. It’s not even plugged into an amp.

You’d be a little annoyed that he hasn’t even bothered to greet you, but you reason that he must be pretty worn out from all of the fanfare surrounding the show tonight. Introvert recognizes introvert. You try not to take it personally.

“Do you know Jeongguk-ah well?” Jimin asks, drawing your attention back to him. His eyes bounce between you and his bandmate. He seems to be putting the pieces together, so you glance at Jeongguk, wordlessly passing the question his way.

Thankfully, Jeongguk seems to get the hint. He tosses his plate in the nearest trash can before sliding over to you again, his arm slipping around your waist easily, betraying nothing.

“Hyungs,” he starts, glancing at you and nodding once. Let the show begin. “YN-ah is actually, um… my girlfriend.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Yoongi sit up. That got his attention, it seems.

A hush falls over the room, even the eyes of the staff members within earshot widening in response to Jeongguk’s announcement. Oh shit, you think. Please let this go well.

“Since when?” Taehyung asks, curiosity piqued. Thankfully, though, he doesn’t seem upset by the new information. At least, not as far as you can tell.

“Well, um,” Jeongguk starts, tonguing nervously at his lip ring. He pulls you closer so you’re practically curled against his chest now, and you silently pray that the way you’re looking at him reads as sweet and not like you’re about to jump out of your skin. “It’s actually been a few months now… Since right before the tour, actually.”

“Right before the tour?” Jimin asks, his brow furrowing in obvious confusion. “So you’ve been doing long distance?”

Jeongguk glances at you, a soft smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, it was bad timing on my part,” he says, his eyes fixed on yours. Damn. If he didn’t have such great pipes, you’d say he should’ve gone into acting. He’s male lead material. “I just couldn’t leave without telling her how I felt.”

You wish that you could do or say literally anything useful instead of just clinging to Jeongguk’s side like a barnacle. This is supposed to be a joint effort, but you feel frozen in place, unable to find your voice. It’s a good thing Jeongguk seems to be pulling it off all on his own.

“So cute,” Taehyung coos, bumping his shoulder against Jimin’s conspiratorially. “Our Jeonggukie’s all grown up and in love.”

“He’s always been a romantic,” Jimin joins in, miming at wiping fake tears as if he’s a proud parent. He reaches out and grabs your hands, startling you. “Please take care of him.”

“Hyuuuungs,” Jeongguk whines, tearing his arm away from you to whack Jimin and Taehyung on their heads simultaneously. “You’re going to scare her away!”

“Doubtful,” Yoongi says from where he’s still seated on the couch. Oh, so he does speak. It’s the first time you’ve heard his voice all night. It’s low, raspier in person than in the videos you’ve seen online. His words are directed at Jeongguk, but when you turn your head to look at him you find that his gaze is fixed on you. Your pulse spikes at the discovery. “I don’t think anything could scare her away from you, Guk-ah.”

The words themselves are innocuous, even supportive, but something about the way he says them makes your gut twist. Nobody else seems put off by it, but you can tell something’s not right. You have to say something, to open your mouth and speak. You have to pull this off, for Jeongguk.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say, forcing a smile. You manage to tear your gaze away from Yoongi, looking back at Jeongguk. He’s grinning down at you, and it’s real, even if the pretense of it isn’t. Your smile becomes a little less forced in return.

★ ★ ★

Jimin and Taehyung are insistent that you stick around and celebrate for a while, so you do. You end up enjoying yourself, despite the weird moment with Yoongi.

Jimin and Taehyung are fun to be around, just like Jeongguk said they would be, although conversation between the three of them becomes a little hard for you to follow sometimes. They just talk so fast.

They ask you questions about your job, your friends, your family. They also tease Jeongguk relentlessly in front of you and seem all too thrilled to find out that you’re their noona. You find it surprising how easily you open up to them, but it just… happens. Just like it did with Jeongguk when you first met.

You relax enough to convince yourself that your perceived pointed nature of Yoongi’s words earlier was all in your head. Surely, he couldn’t have a problem with you when he doesn’t even know you. Jeongguk told you himself that Yoongi’s a quiet guy. Maybe that was his own way of telling you he approves of you. He hasn’t said or done anything since to make you think otherwise. Granted, he hasn’t said or done anything, period.

Once he arrives, you meet Namjoon, Burn The Stage’s manager. Jeongguk told you a little bit about him, but it was mostly just thinly-veiled thirsting. Now you see why.

He clarifies right off the bat that he already knows who you are, which saves you the anxiety of having to go through the whole routine again, and then he apologizes for being late.

“I was talking to reporters. I wanted the guys to be able to celebrate without having to do any interviews,” he explains as he shakes your hand with a dimpled smile. Damn. Yeah, you don’t blame Jeongguk one bit.

After a while, the champagne catches up with you and you have to excuse yourself to the bathroom.

The staff member that was dabbing Jeongguk’s sweat earlier—Minji, you learn—directs you out of the dressing room and to the nearest women’s bathroom further down the hallway.

You try to make it as quick as possible, much tipsier than you thought and all the more unstable in these shoes because of it. After one last check of your hair and makeup in the mirror, you make your exit, focusing down at your feet as you go.

Unfortunately, you run headfirst into someone’s chest in the process. Hands come up to grab your elbows, steadying you before you fall flat on your face. For a second, you think maybe Minji had been waiting to escort you back to the dressing room, but these are not a woman’s hands holding you up. Wait a second, you think. You definitely saw these ring-clad fingers displayed on a huge screen earlier. Strumming at a guitar, perhaps?

In a moment of amazing mental clarity on your part considering the state you’re in, you realize that these are Min Yoongi’s hands, and your head snaps up to look up at him.

“Yoongi-ssi! I’m so sorry!” You quickly right yourself to the best of your ability, pressing your hand to the wall next to you for support.

Once he’s sure you can hold yourself up without his help, Yoongi instantly retracts his hands, crossing his arms over his chest. “I should’ve been looking where I was going,” you add, doing your best to bow in apology without losing your balance again.

Yoongi tilts his head at you as if he’s assessing you, his gaze inscrutable. Man, for a lyricist this guy isn’t big on words. You’re just about to politely say goodbye and head back to the dressing room when he finally speaks.

“I’ve spent the past hour trying to figure out what your angle could possibly be, but I’m coming up short.”

Um. What?

“Huh?” you manage, blinking at Yoongi like he’s suddenly grown a second head.

“It’s not like your career’s in any trouble. Nobody thinks you're Korea’s angel or anything, but your shit reputation hasn’t stopped you from getting brand deals,” Yoongi continues, scoffing to himself. “Are you just bored? Is this what you do to amuse yourself?”

Uh oh. He knows. He knows for sure, and even worse, he thinks that you’re the mastermind.

“I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say, forcing your voice to remain level. You don’t even try to defend your reputation. It’s not like he’s wrong.

“Right,” Yoongi says, leaning in a little closer, like he’s about to tell you a secret. “Well, a word of advice. If you want people to buy that you’re really in love with Jeongguk, you could try to look less like you’re going to throw up when he touches you.”

FUCK. You thought you pulled it off. You thought you pulled it off, and now here’s Jeongguk’s goddamn hero telling you point-blank that you didn’t. You wrack your brain trying to think of anything you could possibly say to defend yourself, to get this guy off your ass, because this cannot be your fault. You’d never forgive yourself.

“I—”

“Or,” Yoongi starts, cutting you off. “You could just cut the bullshit and leave Jeongguk alone.” He pauses, rubbing his chin as if he’s pretending to think about it and then nodding once. “Yeah, let’s go with that one.”

Jesus Christ he’s a piece of work. You feel your fists clench at your sides, your nails digging painfully into your palms. You just got your nails done, and there’s a strong possibility you’ll draw blood, but it’s all you can do not to strangle this asshole right here and leave Burn The Stage without a guitarist.

“Yoongi-ssi,” you say, your words dripping with fake politeness. Fuck this guy, actually. “I don’t know what I’ve done to give you such a bad impression of me, but I assure you that Jeongguk and I are very much in love.”

“How many times do I have to tell you I don’t buy it?” Yoongi asks, voice tinged with impatience. “You may have everyone else in that room fooled, but not me, and if you hurt Jeongguk I can guarantee it won’t end well for you.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” you snap. “Again, I don’t know what the fuck I’ve done to make you think so poorly of me, but I meant what I said in there. I’m not going anywhere.”

You need to remove yourself from this interaction right now before you do something stupid like burst into tears. You take the opportunity to push past Yoongi before he gets a chance to say anything else, making sure to essentially shoulder check him in the process because again, fuck this guy.

You stalk down the hallway, feeling much more sober now. It’s as if all of the alcohol got forcibly drained from your system in the face of total fucking disaster, and you’re honestly thankful for it, because the last thing you need is this asshole seeing you actually fall.

For a moment, you’re fooled into thinking you’d successfully ended the conversation, but of course he needs the last word.

“I know more about you than you think, dollface.”

Dollface? The fuck?

You chance a glance behind you and you immediately regret it. Yoongi leans against the wall where you left him, an amused smirk spread over his face, and the sight immediately fills you with dread, a type of primal panic you haven’t felt in four years flooding your senses.

He doesn’t… He couldn’t know about that. There’s no possible way. Jeongguk doesn’t even know about that. Nobody does, because you’ve done everything in your meager power to keep it that way.

You whip your head back around to face front, your heels clacking on the crusty linoleum beneath them as you continue down the hallway. Don’t look back, you think. He doesn’t know.

You’re thankful that you brought your bag with you to the bathroom, because you’re very much not in the mood for a party now. Once you’re safely outside, you call your car and send a text to Jeongguk explaining your sudden escape. You felt sick, you tell him.

It’s not like it’s a lie.

Yoongi loves being on stage.

Over the past few years, there’s been a noticeable change in his demeanor. He’s become passive, apathetic to the normal day-to-day that comes with being a celebrity. Nothing really wows him anymore.

He remembers the way he reacted to the accommodations the band received when they first got signed. He was way too scared to ask for things at first, but the label gave it all to him anyway.

For instance, Yoongi’s always been particular about his stationery. The first time he filled a notebook after getting signed, he didn’t even think to consider it a company expense. Why would he? He was fully capable of buying his own shit, even if he had to save up for it. Sure, every time he had to write a lyric down on the back of a receipt his eye would twitch, but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t done before.

But the label guys noticed. Before he even had a chance to buy his next batch of notebooks and pens, he was sat down in a spacious meeting room and asked point-blank what he needed. When Yoongi gave them specifics—Leuchtturm 1917 unlined hardcover pocket journals and a fuckton of Uni-Ball Jetstream Premier pens—they didn’t even bat an eye. When he—rightfully—warned them that he might strangle someone if he’s handed a gel pen instead of a ballpoint, they just assured him that wouldn’t happen.

Ever since then, there’s been an endless supply of exactly what he needs, always within reach. He’s still grateful for that, of course, because he goes through those fuckers fast. But it’s just a fact of his life now. It’s not special to get his fucking Leuchtturms anymore, not when he could douse his entire supply with gasoline and burn it on a whim and still have a fresh one in his hand within mere minutes.

And it’s not just journals and pens.

Namjoon is the band’s representative. Yoongi picked him personally long before there was any contract, or even hope for one, and if everything were to go to shit tomorrow, Namjoon would still be there. But after the single from their second album charted on the Billboard Hot 100, a label-equivalent to Namjoon was hired, as if anybody could ever be equivalent to Namjoon. Park Hyunseok. Park Hyunseok, whose sole duty is to buzz around Yoongi and his bandmates like a pesky fly and “make sure they’re happy.” They quite literally want for nothing.

Yoongi remembers when his skin used to buzz with the emotions simmering just under the surface. He was fiery in his youth, pissed off and ready to prove a point. He felt everything strongly, fully.

Not so much these days. Anger is only marketable for so long, or so he’s been told.

For the past year, Yoongi’s felt numb to the world. And he’s dealt with it, of course. That’s what he does. The album did great, the tour sold out, the boys are happy. That’s really all that matters. He just doesn’t know how he’s going to write another fucking album if he’s got nothing to write about anymore.

Still, he loves being on stage. There’s nothing like it. It never gets old, never gets boring. He still hasn’t gotten used to the feeling of stepping onstage and feeling a crowd scream his name, scream his lyrics right back at him. Lyrics to songs that he wrote in his shoebox apartment when he was eighteen and it felt like nobody gave a fuck about him. Funny how things change.

Nobody can take that feeling away from him, even if they’ve taken all the other ones.

It’s been a good night. It feels good to be back in Seoul after being away for months, feels even better to be on this particular stage again. Yoongi always feels keyed up after a good show, itching to do something with all of the energy thrumming through his body, and tonight is no different. He’s almost giddy with the opportunity to celebrate this tour with his bandmates and Namjoon and then go home and crash. Home. Fuck, it’s a good night. He has a hot date with his king size bed.

But then you.

It’s been years since you’ve even been a thought in Yoongi’s brain, and he liked it that way. Unfortunately, it’s apparently true what they say: all good things must come to an end.

Yoongi sees right through you. He's met so many of your type in his life that even if he hadn’t met you before he would’ve been able to sniff you out the second you walked backstage. Users. Social climbers. The bored and braindead looking for their next toy. The exact kind of person he’s been trying to protect Jeongguk from this whole time, and now you’re on his arm.

And whatever, a hookup is one thing. Yoongi frankly doesn’t give a fuck where Jeongguk decides to stick his dick. The less he knows the better on that front. But a relationship? No, it isn’t real. Yoongi knows that much. Maybe it is for Jeongguk, but not for you. He's never even heard Jeongguk, hopeless romantic extraordinaire, talk about you.

Jeongguk introduces you as his girlfriend, and suddenly it’s like Yoongi’s watching a car crash in slow motion. He prays that he’s not alone, that Jimin and Taehyung have caught on to your piss-poor acting skills—seriously, you look like you’re about to pass out—but it looks like Yoongi’s entirely alone on this one. You have them wrapped around your little finger with minimal effort. He has a feeling that comes as naturally to you as breathing.

Of course, Yoongi has the added displeasure of having met you before, way back when. When you had the chance to be somebody, before you pissed it away, to what? To pout in front of a camera for a living? He thought he’d run out of ways to be wrong about you four years ago, but clearly you just can’t help yourself.

And of course you don’t remember him. Why would you?

Yoongi knows Jeongguk better than anybody. He also knows that thing people say about teenagers is true. If you tell them not to do something, they’ll only want to do it more. Jeongguk may be a grown man now, but he’s stubborn as fuck, and he never grew out of that. If he goes to Jeongguk and flat-out tells him that his girlfriend is a piece of human garbage, Jeongguk will only date her harder.

He tries to control the infection at the source by confronting you directly, but it’s clear the fire that he thought you lacked is, in fact, there, if only to piss Yoongi off.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say.

Okay.

If that’s how you want to play, Yoongi can fucking play. He’s going to make you wish you’d left Jeongguk alone when he gave you the chance.

✧ shoot me a reply or an ask if you enjoyed this chapter! feedback is always appreciated <3 join my taglist if you want to be tagged in future fics!

✧ TAGLIST: @jajabro @pitchblack0309 @sugar-snap @ot72025 @ktownshizzle

@futuristicenemychaos @tea4sykes @sugainmybowl @namjoonsbuspass @wobblewobble822

PREVIOUS CHAPTER ✧ MASTERLIST ✧ NEXT CHAPTER

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cherrynflowergarden · 1 month ago

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જ⁀➴ bitter truths|| dealer!matt x doll!reader

sturniolo masterlist add yourself to the taglist

she was laughing, leaning against her desk as she chatted with noah, a guy from her college. her eyes sparkled as she giggled at something he said, her entire posture relaxed and comfortable in his presence. but matt, standing by the door, could feel something dark twisting in his chest as he watched them. he didn’t get jealous—but he’d seen noah around. he knew the guy. he wasn’t some harmless friend and he surely didn’t have the best intentions. and watching her so openly enjoying his company made matt’s jaw clench.

he cleared his throat loudly, catching her attention. she glanced over, her big smile faltering as she noticed the coldness in his eyes.

“oh! matt,” she said, pulling herself away from noah. “this is noah, from my psych class. he’s been helping me with some notes.”

noah nodded politely, but matt didn’t return the gesture, his arms crossed tightly, eyes narrowing. “right. helping,” he repeated, voice dripping with sarcasm. her expression softened, her brow creasing slightly as she sensed his tension.

“can we talk?” he said, his tone stiff. “alone.” he added, bitterly eyeing noah.

she looked at noah apologetically. she barely had a chance to say goodbye before matt grabbed her by the arm and pulled her out of the room. she could feel the anger radiating off him, heavy, simmering, the kind that made her stomach twist.

she shifted under his gaze, trying to hold her ground, but his intensity made her stomach twist.

“what the hell are you doing, doll?” his voice was cold, almost a snarl. “hanging around with a guy like him?”

she frowned, taken aback by his tone. “he’s just a friend, matt. he’s helping me with some notes—”

“a friend? you don’t get it, do you?” his voice was mocking, filled with a bitterness she hadn’t heard from him before. “people like him don’t want to be friends with someone like you. you’re just easy prey.”

her eyes widened, a hurt expression flashing across her face. “matt, why are you being so—”

“realistic?” he interrupted, eyes narrowing. “because someone has to be. you think everyone’s got some good in them, that everyone’s gonna treat you the way you treat them. but that’s not how the world works, doll. you’re too blind to see it.”

her lip trembled, but she took a shaky breath, trying to stay calm. “you’re wrong, matt. i know what he’s like with me. just because he doesn’t fit into your world doesn’t mean—”

“oh, please,” he cut in, rolling his eyes. “you really think you know what you’re doing? you don’t have a clue. you’re just letting him string you along because he’s nice to you. that’s all it takes, isn’t it?” his words were sharp, condescending. “anyone gives you a bit of attention, and you’re ready to trust them with anything.”

her face flushed, her chest tightening at his words. “i thought… i thought you trusted me, matt. trusted that i could figure things out.”

“trusted you?” he scoffed, shaking his head in frustration. “y/n, i’m just trying to keep you from getting hurt. but you’re too stubborn, too naive to see that half these people only see you as an easy target.”

the word naive cut through her like a knife, each syllable laced with disdain. “so that’s what you think of me?” her voice was barely above a whisper. “some… some helpless girl who can’t take care of herself?”

“isn’t that exactly what you’re proving right now?” he snapped, his patience finally snapping with it. “you’re so desperate for everyone to like you, so willing to see the good in people, that you don’t even realize they’re laughing behind your back. they see you as this silly soft girl they can use and toss aside.” his voice was harsh, each word landing like a blow.

tears pricked at her eyes, but she held them back, swallowing hard. “i… i thought you saw me differently.”

he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “doll, you’re… you’re sweet, alright? you’re too sweet for your own good. ‘t’s gonna ruin you if you don’t learn to see through people like him. and right now, you’re just proving me right. you’re proving you don’t get how people are.”

she flinched, his words making her chest ache. “maybe… maybe i don’t want to see people the way you do, matt. maybe i want to believe in people. i thought you’d get that.”

“get that?” he scoffed, crossing his arms. “’m done trying to understand why you’re so determined to get hurt. you don’t get it, do you? you’re weak and you refuse to see it. you refuse to admit that you need someone to watch out for you.”

the words echoed in her mind, his voice searing into her heart. weak. naive. silly. and what hurt her the most was how he addressed her by her name and not as doll. she felt a tear slip down her cheek and quickly wiped it away, but matt didn’t soften, didn’t reach out to her.

for a moment, she couldn’t even speak, her throat tight with unshed tears. “if that’s really how you see me, then… maybe you don’t know me at all.” her voice was shaky, laced with hurt she couldn’t hide.

he watched her, his expression unreadable, but he didn’t move. he didn’t apologize or reach out to stop her as she turned and walked away, each step heavier than the last. she kept her gaze down, trying to block out his words, but they echoed in her mind, relentless.

days passed. she avoided his texts, his calls, even ignored the harsh banging on her door and every attempt he made to reach her. every time she saw his name flash on her phone, her chest tightened and the hurt bubbled up again. she knew matt was protective, that he cared, but his words had felt like a betrayal, like he didn’t trust her to know what was best for herself.

an; angst bc i'm sad(⁠｡⁠•��⁠︿⁠•̀⁠｡⁠) also tell me do we like this small title font more or the quote font one?

taglist; @mattsdolll @izzylovesmatt

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bluejutdae · 9 months ago

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• best friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Minho x you

Chan, Changbin, Hyunjin, Jisung, Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin

genre: friends to lovers

warnings: asshole date, nothing happens but reader thinks her date might follow her home

This night has been terrible so far. Your friend convinced you to go out with one of her colleagues to get over your crush for Minho, and you knew it was pointless, but she insisted so much you have lost the will to fight. So you wore a nice dress and a minute before you left the apartment, the guy texted you saying there was a change of plans and to meet two hours later and at a different location. Is the dating scene like this for everybody? You haven’t dated anyone for a long time, a bit because of how things ended with your last boyfriend but mostly because of the raging (unreciprocated) crush for Minho.

Minho’s now one of your closest friends, but you never actually gave up on your feelings for him. It’s almost comfortable, safe in a way, to love someone knowing things won’t change but won’t end either.

But for the sake of shutting up your friend, you are now in a very shitty situation. The guy is pretty, you’re mature enough to admit that, but he’s a major asshole. Even ignoring the last minute change of plans, the fact that he arrived 25 minutes later and apparently the new location is a nightclub. His hands have been on you the moment he introduced himself and the more you try to put some distance between you two, the more he’s all over you. You could just leave, that’s true. It’s also true that this guy is very set on never leaving your side and he’s so pushy you’re certain he wouldn’t hesitate to follow you home.

You wonder when Minho is going to be here so you can at least leave the club and have him keep you company, when you feel a hand grabbing your wrist. You turn to find the hand holding you belongs to Minho himself and he’s looking at you with a surly expression, teeth clenched and a frown between his eyebrows. “We’re going home.”

His voice is cold and firm, you’ve never heard him speak to you like that. Your date notices the scene and turns to Minho. “Woah dude, she’s mine tonight.”

Minho’s cold stare rests on the guy and at the same time your friend makes a step to place himself between you and your date. “She’ll never be yours, not tonight, not never. She belongs to me. Dude.” The last word was spat through Minho’s teeth, mocking and a bit cruel.

Words die on the guy’s tongue when Minho gets into his face and says something too quiet for you to hear.

A moment later he’s gently pushing you away and through the crowd, towards the exit.

“Well, that was intense,” you joke when you’re safe on the sidewalk.

“Don’t you ever put yourself into a situation like this. Ever again.” He’s on your face, almost screaming the words at you, anger contorting his face.

You can understand he was worried, but you don’t like the way he’s talking to you.

“Ya, Minho! Do you think I wanted that?” You raise your eyebrows. “I didn’t call you so you could scold me! I called you because I trusted you to help me, I know I was in a shitty situation!”

“And yet you still got into this situation!” He rebuts, and in this moment you hate him a little.

Why is he judging you like this? Why is he blaming you? Sure, you were a bit too naive but it’s not like you consciously decided to put yourself in a potentially dangerous situation.

“This clearly wasn’t what I expected.”

“No? You’re the one who decided to go to a club with a man you didn’t know. And you came alone! Was bringing a friend too easy?”

“Fuck you, Minho!”

You stalk away, towards the direction of the bus stop. Why is he mad at you now? He’s never been mean or cruel to you, despite what lots of people say about him, he’s a caring friend.

You can hear his footsteps getting close and you almost laugh at the thought that comes to your mind: you are always so focused on him, you can now recognize his footsteps.

“I parked in the other direction.”

“Then go the other direction. I don’t need you here. Sorry I bothered you. I won’t be your problem anymore.”

“You are my problem.”

“Oh, so I really am a problem to you.” You can believe him. All this because he had to come get you? You didn’t think it’d be such a hassle.

“Yes. You’ve been my problem since I met you.”

“You’re being so fucking cruel tonight, Minho.”

“I am not- can you stop walking?” He asks, sounding exasperated. You stop and face him, one hand on your hip and your lips pursed in disapproval. “So you can tell me more about how I’m a problem?”

“I didn’t say a problem.”

“You said exac-“

“I said MY problem! Emphasis on my. Because you’re not other people’s problem. And I don’t want you to belong to other guys, don’t want them to call you theirs! I want you to be mine.”

You stare at him for half a minute, silent and still. Putting aside the fact that he’s repeating the fact that you’re a problem, you try to read between the lines.

“Is this a fucked up way to tell me you have feeling for me?”

“Yes.”

This is ridiculous. Really ridiculous. Your crush has feelings for you. And the most backwards way of confessing. Well, considering he is Minho, it’s pretty in character for him. Still ridiculous, though.

“I didn’t know you decided to go on dates.” He says it like a second thought.

“I didn’t.”

“You were on a date.”

“Doesn’t mean I decided to go on dates.”

“Means exactly that.”

“Jesus, Minho. Can you ever drop something?”

“Not when it’s about you.”

This asshole. How can you find his otherwise annoying answers amusing?

“My friend insisted so much that she wore me down, so I accepted this date with her colleague. So, as I said, I haven’t decided to go on dates.”

“Good.”

“You can never be normal, uh? Always with a weird answer.”

“You like weird.”

“I do.”

“You’re normal. I like normal.”

He likes normal, and he likes you. And he tells you so in a Minho way at least another ten times in the following minutes, during your way home.

You say goodbye and you’re about to get out of the car, when he puts his hand on your arm, an hesitant expression on his face. “No more other guys, right?”

You smile softly at him. “No more other guys. There hasn’t really been another guy since I met you.”

His smile is all you need.

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #bluejutdae #skz #minho smau #minho imagines #minho fanfic #minho scenarios #Thiana writes Minho

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urfavlarry · 9 months ago

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Can I request a Tyler ( or Aiden but please Tyler) x reader fic? Reader has lived in the phantom realm for almost her entire life and because of that she is always sleepy and hungry since she doesn't get transported back like the others. But she is a great fighter. Fem or gn reader please and could you please write a scenario too? Thanks you and a you can ignore this if you like ❤

warnings: bad grammar, swearing, mentions of reader not eating, reader has some form of insomnia(??) gender neutral reader

A/N: I tried to make sure that this is gender neutral but if I made any mistakes then please correct me! Also I’m new to the fandom so if I got anything incorrect then again, don’t be afraid to correct me.

I hope I wrote everything the way you wanted and that you will request again some time<3

Tyler & Aiden (seperate) x gn!reader

——————————————

You’ve been stuck in this place for a while, ever since you were about 13. One day you were playing outisde in the yard, when you saw this strange creature. You being a naive child went towards it and tried talking to it. You weren’t really the type of child to be scared of everything and you thought it was just your imagination. When you when to confront it, you collapsed. After that you woke up in this strange place, an exact copy of the real world yet the sky was red and strange creatures started to appear everywhere. Your big brother would get into fights often, so he taught you some self defense so you managed to survive, quickly seeking shelter. At your age many kids would panic and probably wouldn’t survive, but you pulled through. Ever since then you kinda were afraid to sleep, scared that the creatures would somehow manage to get to you and hurt you. Same with food, you rarely went out to get food, only living off what people left in their houses, well at least the houses that weren’t infested with phantoms.

You and your parents would go out into the wilderness often, so you had necessary survival skills and had enough supplies for the first few weeks of being there. You learned to survive the phantom attacks and you have a pretty well built shelter. In the present time you met a group of people your age. You almost collapsed from how happy you were to finally have human interaction after so many dreadful years of being in this horrific place. They accepted you into the group, some being a bit skeptical at first but changed their mind once you told them your story.

You were a more skilled person in the group, taking the role as leader with a girl named Ashlyn. You moved your things from your shelter that wasn’t that far from the “graveyard” as they liked to call it. After a few hours you were done taking your things there and saw they weren’t there anymore. Your eyes widen and you start to panic; “Did they leave me?” “Was I just imagining it?” “Did they get hurt by the phantoms?” You run into one of the buses and see a note on one of the seats. It explained that they have a different experience in this realm. They go to this realm at midnight for 7 hours, then wake up in the human realm. You couldn’t help but envy them but you were glad nothing happened to them and that you weren’t imagining it.

——————————————

Tyler Hernández

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

To say that Tyler would literally turn into your second mother that would be an understatement.

He would constantly bring you food when he could and when he was in the living world he would make you some food before he went to school so you don’t starve while they are away. (things that are moved to a certian place in the living world appear in the “phantom realm”

You two would definitely start dating after some time but you would be the one making the first move lol

He would have some trust issues but once he warms up to you he’s cool

Taylor would definitely be happy that her twin brother is finally happy with someone (even if he can’t see them whenever he wants)

He would cuddle you in the bus and protect you with his life fr

He would be super caring and would scold you if you wouldn’t eat for a long period of time, the same with sleeping.

When you eat and get a normal amount of sleep you have a LOT of energy. Like it’s as if you drank 10 cups of coffee in on go!

definitely praises you!!

He would be jealous if you taught anyone other than him so give him some love right after!!

Admires you for sure like he’s looking at you with heart eyes and is the most love sick guy you will ever meet lmao even if he doesn’t look like it

Overall I believe he isn’t the MOST caring in the group but definitely one of the most caring :3

Everyone quickly started noticing your sluggish movements and the constant rumbling of your stomach. You always had dark eye bags under your eyes and you were exhausted all of the time. Tyler was the first one to notice and comment on it. You tried saying you were fine but he just didn’t buy it. “Come on I can tell you’re exhausted and clearly hungry, come we should have at least an apple for you to eat.” He says and drags you to the bus where they would keep these types of necessities. He mumbled some swears you couldn’t quite understand since it was in Spanish. He handed you the apple and rolled his eyes, acting like he doesn’t care. “After you eat that go and rest, I don’t want you to collapse tomorrow..” He says, looking away from you and sits down on one of the seats in the bus.

You nod and raise a brow at his strange behavior. He never really acted kind or caring towards anyone except his sister, but you didn’t mind the special treatment. You lay down on the seat, curling into a ball and close your eyes, falling asleep in almost an instant. It was a while since you’ve slept for a healthy amount of time. You usually wouldn’t sleep or only had a few minutes of sleep since the phantom noises kept you awake constantly.

You slept for quite a long time, even past the time the group would appear and wake up in the real world. The moment it hit midnight Tyler quickly checked up on you, hoping you wouldn’t be mad that he wasn’t there when you woke up, but when he went to look towards the seat you slept on you were still there, asleep. He was taken aback by this since you slept for literally the whole day! He shook you awake, wanting to make sure you didn’t die or something in your sleep. You woke up, grumbling as you glared at the person who woke you only to see Tyler with a concerned expression. “What?” “What do you mean what!? You slept for like 30 hours!” He says and looks at you as if you were some kind of psycho. “Oh I did?” You ask, stretching your aching body and sit up. “Jeez Y/N when was the last time you’ve slept? And I mean properly.” You chuckle at his reaction and explain how you’ve had trouble sleeping, since you heard the phantoms like Ashlyn, just not so intensely. You explain your situation a bit more to him, not wanting to just leave him without an explanation on why you were the way you were.

You explain and Tyler looks at you with a sympathetic but quickly rolls his eyes and flicks your forehead; “Whatever nerd, come it’s time for you to teach us fighting or whatever..” He rolls his eyes and exits the bus. You usually teach the group how to fight when they can’t practice with Ashlyns parents since.. her parents can’t go into the realm with them. Tyler was sitting on the side while you were teaching Aiden and he yelled “Yea babe beat his ass!” He whistles and claps, having a proud look on his face. He definitely admires your skill but is like “pfft of course she’s strong she’s MY girlfriend” but in private he praises the living hell put of you. He grabs you by the hand and pulls you away from the group who is now resting and catching their breath. He pulls you closer to him and cups your cheek; “You did great princesa I’m so proud of you.” He says and kisses you on the forehead. “Oh well what kind of teacher would I be if I wasn’t any good?” You tease and wrap your arms around his neck. “Stop flirting I can hear you both!” Ashly yells and you both pull away quickly and look at each other, bursting into fits of laughter.

Aiden Clark

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

He is a TEASE but like tbh he oblivious asf like bro doesn’t even notice for a good few months even after you start dating

He is really concerned once he finds out tho but still he doesn’t take it THAT seriously but still cares!!

He fr is terrified of you when you have energy tho cuz likeee your really strong

Aiden had seen you fr collapse somewhere from exhaustion and get back up like a few seconds later, beating the phantoms like it was nothing

He is super sad that he can’t see you in the normal world and tries to spend as much time with you as possible

Teases you if your stomach grumbles lmfao he finds that shit hilarious (runs away 2 seconds after he teases you)

Definitely brings you food, even if it’s not the most healthy but if you have a particular food you like expect to get it like at least twice a week

Overall is pretty chill but still caring<3

Aiden didn’t really notice at first, his mind wandering else where like usual or would tease and flirt with you. He only started noticing when you started dozing off in the most inconvenient places like when you were on a mission with the group and they just found you collapsed on the floor, only waking when you heard a phantom and kicked its ass! He was amazed but a little bit concerned but didn’t really show it, teasing you without an end. Once you got back to the graveyard he pulled you away from the rest of the group, finding Ashlyns rambling anout the next plan boring. He leads you to one of the buses and sits down, his back against the window and lays you down on top of him, your head resting on his chest. “What are you—” He silences you with a quick kiss on the lips and smiles, his usual manic like smile no where to be seen, only a genuine soft smile. “Rest, you need it. I can’t promise I will be here when you wake up but just rest, ‘kay? You’re safe.” He hugs you closer and your heart skips a beat. You smile and make yourself comfortable, falling asleep in the blink of an eye.

Aiden layed there with you, rubbing your back and playing with your hair. He grew bored after a while, typical Aiden but he let his mind wander, keeping himself occupied by thinking of random things and unconsciously braiding pieces of your hair. He only snapped out of it when he heard a quite loud rumbling. He lifted his arms off you and looked down at you with wide eyes, his manic like smile reappearing. He chuckled, he would definitely tease you about that later.

After a while he awoke in the real world, he texted the rest of the group in the group chat and smiled mischievously. Once midnight hit, you were awoken by noises coming from outside the bus. You quickly sat up, but calm down once you see a smiling Aiden looking down at you. You sigh, relieved it wasn’t phantoms when the door to the bus suddenly opened. You stood up and saw the group holding different kids of food you haven’t eaten in years! You look at the food like a kid seeing a toy they want and look at Aiden who smiled at you. “Surprise.” He says and the rest of the group places the food down on the floor, everyone sitting down and dig in. You sit down and eat a good amount of food yourself, eating to your hearts content. Everyone watches in awe at how much you ate but they were happy, especially Aiden that they could do this for you.

After everyone finished eating you helped cleaning up, Aiden approaching you and hugging you from behind; “Enjoyed the food, love?” He says and kisses your jaw, then cheek. “Yeah, a lot. How did you come up with this?” He smirks and rests his chin on your shouler; “Oh, I heard a little noise~” He puts one arm on your stomach and chuckles; “And I thought you would be thrilled with this surprise!” Your face turns red and you turn around and smack his head, grumbling and storming away.

#aiden sbg x reader #tyler sbg x reader #aiden sbg #tyler sbg #tyler hernandez #aiden clark #aiden clark x reader #tyler hernandez x reader #sbg x reader #school bus graveyard x reader #school bus graveyard #sbg webtoon #sbg (webtoon)#sbg #sbg tyler

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ybklix · 4 months ago

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you can be the boss

★ pairing: softdom!chrisbang x inexperiencedfem!reader part one / PART TWO

☆summary: The hot summer continues with more lies and uncontrollable experiences that you never know exactly how they will end.

✧ genre - warnings: MDNI 18+, smut, daddy kink, spanking, clitplay, fingering, cunnilingus, piv, pet names, multiple orgasms, tiny bit angst

word count: 8k

masterlist - taglist ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹

It was either going to be a very long and beautiful summer or a fateful and hopeless one.

After that night your body was sore, it was only soft and sweet when you asked but upon asking him to do it fast there was no turning back. It was late at night and you both had to go back to your rooms as someone was waiting for you there when you woke up. Chris hugged and kissed you sweetly stroking your hair for a while until you could control yourself from something that seemed uncontrollable, your body destroyed but absolutely filled in pleasure and satisfaction, it had only happened once that you wanted to become addicted, his strong arms on your naked body made you think you always belonged there. Tormented you wondered why you had to meet him like this and not do it on your own, without him being involved in a compromising situation.

Chris looked at you fondly, all of you were struggling to recover and gently told you that you could discuss everything in the afternoon in his office, where most of the time Ruby won’t interrupt or bother him… and him mentioning her and you hearing her name, you almost came back to all your senses, wanting to tell and reproach yourself what you had done, what were you thinking having sex with your aunt’s boyfriend but… once again, being wrapped in his arms those questions and blames were meaningless, you liked Chris and he was treating you very well, you didn’t understand what was wrong with that.

And then, something that excited you slightly again but you hid it in a soft smile, Chris whispering sweetly to you:

“I want to try so many things with you. I’ll make you feel so good.”

You weren’t that naive, but when it came to Chris you suddenly became just that. You were so excited about all the things he could do to you and everything you could do with him -and his big cock-, you never thought you’d find yourself in a situation where you were actually incredibly horny. However you were also a little disappointed that your horniness won you over completely, enough to cheat like that on a woman who has been nothing but nice to you since she met you and opened you up to her family, as much as to trust you and show you her new boyfriend which this time she was hopeful and excited about, and to have unprotected sex with him. You wanted to self-manipulate, convincing yourself that the pill would work its magic and you would be more aware next time, not to stop fucking Chris, just doing it with protection next time, you just couldn’t stop now you had him.

The next morning you avoided everyone’s gaze, you felt too dirty and embarrassed to even look at Liv, for as much as she said she would love to fuck Chris, she would never do it and it was just a little joke, instead you, took the little jokes to another level, he had a girlfriend and was someone you knew very closely.

Still there was a force that drew you to him, and there you were, going to his office in a very strategic and hidden room in his house at the end of that hallway. Ruby started a pilates class and Minho was going to distract Liv, the details of which Chris wanted to avoid in knowing how he would do it. Chris confessed to him a little ashamed of what had happened and of the words that suddenly came out of his mouth that night, he might have been a little drunk but he remembered every detail of what had happened a few hours ago, which he was grateful for, he had never felt like that before. Minho encouraged him a little, telling him that if it was you who he really wanted, that breakups exist for a reason with no problem, that Ruby was his girlfriend of just months and they didn’t in itself have a wedding plan, at least not for Chris, while he also told him that he felt slightly guilty, he always had different sexual partners at the same time, but when he was in a relationship it was common sense that he was devoted to that person, but now, it just seemed to change.

Now he was in his office, sitting on the couch, with his ankle on his thigh, one hand on his mouth and one on his thigh, waiting for you, in a pensive mode. His mind was spinning, thinking what would be the ideal thing to do, he was immensely fond of Ruby, but all he could think of was the also immense desire he had to meet you, something about you appealed to him so much, he wanted you for himself.

His mind didn’t seem to be quiet until you appeared there, standing in front of his door, locking the door so as not to be interrupted. You smiled at him and he returned the gesture immediately; you watched him, he looked incredibly dominant in that position, with his index and middle finger wagging in indication for you to approach him, in contrast to his soft, sweet expression, with his eyes sparkling at the sight of you dressed comfortably in a white ruffled skirt and a thin strappy blouse of the same color with a cute little cherries print detail on it.

Chris lowered his leg and looked at you with fascination as you stood nearby, raising his eyes.

“Hey,” you greeted shyly with a smile, about to not do such a shy act.

You leaned on his shoulders and settled on top of him, facing each other. Chris smiled and quickly grabbed you by the waist. He took a closer look at you, you were wearing a thin silver necklace, earrings and no bra, Chris could see how slightly your soft nipples were marked on the fabric of your blouse and his mind quickly thought that you were most likely just wearing your panties under your skirt, turning him on in seconds, but before touching you, he wanted to talk a little serious.

“Hey my babygirl” he returned your greeting, to which you softly bit your lip as you finally heard his voice.

The image of him and your weak body being taken and fucked lived in your mind forever, exciting every inch of you, you wanted to do it every time and this time you didn’t want to have to share it with another woman.

Chris sighed a little frustrated, confusing you a little.

“What’s wrong, Chris?” you asked him genuinely concerned.

The answer was obvious, you were on his lap, at his disposal and more than agreeable to him taking you and doing with you whatever he wanted, but you were a guest in his house, and niece of his girlfriend; about to fuck behind her back while the poor woman wasn’t home. Chris tightened his grip on your waist and began to caress your thighs, thinking it wasn’t fair, to anyone, but you had absolutely not a drop of blood in your young body that tied you to Ruby and god, Chris could see how different the two of you were. You has this power over him, there was something about you that drove him crazy in seconds and yesterday he only discovered a part of it, but he was still trying to figure it out because… how he confessed he liked you just days after meeting you and normally it wasn’t something he would do, he was a righteous guy who knew himself very well, he knew he would never go for women that young and he had never cheated in his relationships, but there you were, looking at him so sweetly that you made him melt with your delicate body on his.

But looking directly into his eyes changes everything about him, you make him go from one emotion to another in seconds and he loves that. Your look so mischievous yet innocent, he wanted to destroy every part of your body and then hold you tightly until he felt every beat of your heart close to him. He wanted that little part of you to never end, it was enough with the slightest thing to fall before you, Chris just needed a sign, and you gave it to him so divinely.

“Y/n” he spoke seriously, capturing your attention completely, “I meant what I said last night, I can still remember everything” you looked at him confused and then your cheeks started to heat up, as you immediately thought about the little sentence he suddenly blurted out and you didn't want to make a big deal out of it, because deep down you could believe that it was just about sex and a part of you was fine with that, as much as you wanted everything with Chris, “…I do like you and I’d like to get to know you better” he finished sweetly.

You couldn’t help but smile broadly with satisfaction and shifted slightly more on his lap like a happy little girl getting good news. His caresses became more consistent Chris loved touching every part of you and he smiled back at you, watching you tenderly.

You watched him, every part of him was a dream, you liked him too from the first moment you saw him, you never thought it would all be so fast and end up consuming you viciously.

“I like you too” you replied, but a silence that was short seconds but somehow seemed longer came over you, “… but, what shall we do now?” your question was so genuine and came out naturally, almost making you look innocent.

“Don’t worry” he whispered softly as he saw your slight frown and your lips in a soft pout, Chris wanted to kiss them and the fact that he could now do it whenever he wanted to, but unfortunately only on the sly, made his insides burn, “We just met at a weird time in our lives. I’ll wait these next few weeks for when your family-, her family leaves and I’ll break up with her.”

Chris said it so matter-of-factly that you were shocked by the fact that he was going to leave her but a part of you was so glad that… he was going to leave her for you. Still, after so many fantasies that finally came true the slight guilt came to you, Chris noticed, you were with your own war of emotions, whether to feel happy, guilty, confused; you over thought the fact that if he was unfaithful to Ruby and if he starts dating you, maybe he could do the same, you didn’t know what to feel, but Chris only returned to hold you tighter, you looked so cute thinking, to him.

“It’ll be all right, really. We’ll get to know each other more and I’ll be here for you” he commented, smiling as his hands traveled dangerously to massage your ass.

You decided to shove the thoughts away and focused on him, as you nodded softly, sticking your body more towards him unconsciously, ready to be kissed, but Chris came closer to your ear, with his body full of arousal and with a husky voice he whispered, following his hot game that put you in such a uniquely horny mode:

“Daddy’s here for you, baby doll. I’ll make you happy, my pretty baby. I’ve got everything under control, so don’t worry. Do you trust me?”

You stood still, listening intently to every word that came out of his attractive mouth with his also attractive voice and shuddered in seconds, making your poor inexperienced pussy and emotions throb to the surface. Chris slowly pulled away from you with a cocky grin and raising his eyebrows waiting for a response from you, licking his lips as he watched you wanting to hide your excited expression and feeling your body giving in to him and his caresses, you were already slightly trembling and he was barely squishing your ass with his big hands.

“Yes daddy” you tried to speak normally as you were dying to kiss him.

Chris nodded softly, losing himself with his hands on your body, caressing everything and making his arousal rise, stiffening his cock at the thought of having you again, with the taste in his mouth that every encounter with you would be better than the last. It would surpass every expectation in him.

He squeezed your ass again, his hands traveling from your thighs to under your skirt, pulling your body into him and squeezing hard making you sigh in surprise.

“You’re a naughty little doll, why are you only wearing panties under your skirt, huh? Is it for daddy or do you go around teasing daddy’s friend too?” Chris spoke again seductively teasing you, raising his eyes and chin to look at you since you were slightly taller being on his lap.

You blinked in confusion, understanding that he meant Minho, to which you quickly denied.

“No daddy, just for you.”

Chris smiled again, licking his lips and biting his lower lip, his large hands took your buttocks almost in their entirety and played with your skin, massaging and spreading them apart, pushing the fabric of your panties further between your folds and making you bite your lip to keep from letting out a moan.

“Is my baby all excited to have her daddy, isn’t she?” he spoke amused, playing with his tongue on the inside of his mouth and you nodded somewhat exasperated.

You were slowly losing patience, your heart was pounding and your pussy was so wet and slippery from your constant lubrication, you needed him again so badly and him talking slightly dirty referring to him as daddy only helped in making you more restless, fantasizing about being more than filled again with his massive cock.

“Stand up a little… like this, on your knees, good girl” he ordered taking you by the waist so that you lifted your body still over him.

Chris quickly pulled down your panties leaving them halfway down your thighs and making you gasp, he boldly eyed your body and lifted your skirt a moment to lose his sight on your open pussy, with your knees on either side of his thighs, biting his lip at the sight of your mons venus and your slightly visible labia. Chris’s cock throbbed trapped in his pants and he grunted subtly. You watched him, with your hands on his shoulders and looking down at him from above, weak and quivering full of sexual energy ready to be slowly released by your new lover.

He brought his fingertips to your pussy, gently brushing your length, shuddering every inch of your body and contracting your body, Chris found himself absorbed in the sight of your pussy, but as he felt your body spasming over his, he quickly raised his gaze to your face. And he left your pussy, wet and exposed to direct his hands to your torso, stroking it up and down until he slowly pulled up your blouse and you let him remove it, tossing it carefree to the side.

The whole process was so hot and slow, your body couldn’t contain it, you were going to explode with excitement if that was even possible, you felt incredibly impatient but at the same time you were enjoying every little moment and new sensation in you.

Chris’ face was almost level with your bare breasts which he watched with fascination but didn’t touch, making your nipples hard at everything you were waiting for, waiting to be touched by him on every part of you.

“Babygirl, take off your skirt for me, come on, let me touch you better” he commented, staring into your eyes.

You sighed and stood up, standing in front of him, about to slide your skirt off until he interrupted again.

“Do it slow, show me everything that is mine that I can’t wait to have…”

His voice ignited everything about you and you did your best to obey him, swaying your hips seductively as you slid off your skirt until you let it fall to the floor; you noticed how Chris indicated for you to come closer and you did, he by himself slid your panties completely off, finally leaving you naked.

“Fuck” he whispered with a noticeable pain in his cock at not being released and attended on, “Come here again, princess, just as you were.”

You smiled happily, once you were naked there was no turning back, you knew he could do with you whatever he wanted and pleased. You positioned yourself again and the first thing he says to you, sweetly is:

“Kiss me now, baby doll.”

You didn’t know why you felt particularly nervous about that request when you were already naked on top of him with his hands on your waist. You again held him tightly by his shoulders and leaned into him, closing your eyes and in search of an act as intimate and necessary for both of you as kissing was. You intertwined your lips making the act so slow and fiery, hearing in the silence of the room your heavy breaths and your mouths colliding, you gently moved your body with excitement as you enjoyed Chris’ hands on you, from your thighs to moving up your waist and massage your breasts, today you were being touched with attention and care without taking a second off him, tasting his tongue and lips while you gently tilted your head to adapt to his delightful pace.

Your body was losing strength and you wrapped your arms around his neck, stroking his hair, giving in to the most sensual make out session that made your skin tingle, but you regained all your energy when you felt his right hand caress your pussy wrapping around your ass. You parted and Chris saw you with a smile as your face was starting to be a mess, flushed, with your lips swollen and trying not to be so obvious that you were loving the feel of his fingers touching your cunt.

Chris with his long fingers found your sensitive spot, taking it with his middle and index finger while his thumb played with your labia and kept teasing your entrance. You shuddered again, sighing softly as he enjoyed teasing you. Chris panted, his erection again was bothering him as it was so tight in his pants, but he didn’t want to move until he was making you enjoy yourself fully, playing with your clit and teasing your entrance with his thumb, inserting it shallowly and moistening it to move it to your sensitive, throbbing labia. You were enjoying them more and more, relaxing your body and letting yourself be pleasured by him, Chris bit his lip and continued to work on your pussy slowly, in a wonderful rhythm that made all your hairs stand on end, he was doing it so well, but he was so incredibly aroused that in slightly awkward movements he returned to kissing your skin, trapping your breast in his mouth, enjoying the sensation of having his mouth busy and his fingers making you feel good, almost you trembling before him.

He gently sucked on your nipple causing you to shiver, you were being a mess of excitement just now as his lips continued to stick to your skin, leaving little marks to finally raise his gaze again and watch you struggle to stay calm, but you couldn’t. Chris drew a big smile on his face again, he caressed your naked torso with his free hand before suddenly starting to spank you and squeezing your buttock, stimulating you further.

You moaned from the impact of his hand with your ass, his smacks were more pleasurable than painful and left your skin tinged red so you groaned in surprise every time you received them; Chris was starting to change the pace and get a little wilder with his movements on your pussy which was bringing you closer to your orgasm, making you restless and pushing you to your limit. He just watched your panting body with amusement, his hand kept slapping your ass and squeezing the injured area, flinching each time, he finally stopped spanking you, to bring the fingers of that hand to your entrance, he raised his eyebrows, almost warning you that he was about to insert them into you, making you gasp loudly, even his fingers were filling you so perfectly. Chris pushed his fingers into your tight entrance, biting his lip as he explored your insides causing his cock to throb with more intensity, so close to his climax in his pants.

His hand kept attending to your sensitive clit at the same time the other was frantically acting on your core bringing your climax closer. You whimpered softly at being touched so strategically, weakening you, straining your muscles so close to your culmination.

“Oh c’mon, are you gonna cum?” his voice thickened and seemed more demanding than a question.

You nodded with difficulty, your body was filling with an incredible knot that you had never felt so intensely before Chris and that only he was capable of achieving in you. He moved his fingers in you harder, reaching to a sweet spot in your inside making you unable to hold back anymore and you released in an orgasm, cumming out into his hand; you had no idea how he accomplished it but your body reacted that way, embarrassing you a little as you faded into the incredible sensation of your climax.

“Oh, sweetie, you made a mess” he said again, looking at you with pity and tenderness.

You didn’t think you were capable of doing something like that so your cheeks grew warm.

“I’m sorry” you suddenly got shy, after being the one to first seek him out in the first place, sneaking up to where he was and proposing something indecent to him, just a few hours ago in the late hours of the night.

Chris let out a chuckle, licking his lips as he pulled his fingers out of you.

“It’s okay. Good girl” he said contentedly elongating his words, “Now sit down and let daddy clean up the mess you left, my pretty baby.”

You looked up at him with tired eyes and felt his hands on your waist and his body move; Chris left you sitting on the couch as he got on his knees in front of you, spreading your legs apart with his hands and you were extremely sure of what he was going to do. His mouth moved to your pussy, pulling your body towards him to better settle in, you sighed, once again excited at what awaited you as with him it was a continuous series of thrills and new experiences that you never wanted to end.

He stared into your eyes as his mouth and tongue caught your clit, you bit your lip to keep from bursting out a little squeal, you were so excited but at the same time you were thinking about more people around his house. Chris sucked on your clit and did it harder intentionally as he felt his aching cock spurting out his cum, indicating that he had reached his first climax just by touching you and tasting a little bit of you. Chris loved touching you in spots that stimulated you enough to shudder, he could play with you all day long. You gasped at your clit being foreplayed sizzlingly and Chris continued with his face shoved in your pussy, licking the entire length of your labia and stimulating you to perfection until he made you arch your back, once again you both found yourselves incredibly horny, you were so wet, enjoying every second until he spoke again:

“I want you to ride my cock, princess, I think your pretty pussy is ready, hmm” he suddenly warned, pulling away from you and leaving you exasperated, he had just left you very lubricated and aroused.

Chris stood up, still well erect despite having cum, he wasn’t going to be satisfied until he used your pussy, putting his big bulge in his crotch on sight for your sore eyes, you looked at him eagerly and your mouth salivated as he did the so dirty hot act with his big veiny hands, which you lost your sight in them, unable to believe they were those attractive big hands touching you; Chris unbuttoned his pants and took them off along with his underwear to reveal his incredible cock already covered in his own cum and wiggling as if it was such a natural thing for him, and he fell back on the couch, sighing tiredly, but more than alive, ready for you to take him with effort.

You sighed half-heartedly and nervously that it would be your first time riding a cock and all you could think was that you wanted to make it the best for Chris and that he wouldn’t regret being the one you chose.

“Mmm… Daddy do you have a condom?”

He smiled at you, “Smart baby. They’re in the second drawer of my desk.”

You were so nervous, the condom was almost an excuse to generate time. Chris watched you tenderly as you reached for the condom and shyly walked a few steps naked into his office. Finally you returned to position yourself on his lap, he looked so relaxed and dominant with his stiff erect cock, watching in detail and tenderness every action you made as Chris had a dirty fantasy of destroying your pussy and the innocence you suddenly radiated.

“Mmm, fuck baby, wrap it on me now, please” he gasped slightly desperate.

You on the other hand wanted to keep acting as natural as possible without him being able to tell you had never done it before. Still, Chris could read you so easily and watched as you opened the wrapper with uncertainty. He licked his lips, gently biting his tongue as he was being attacked for controlling his urges, his urge to take you desperately and fuck you. Chris sucked air between his teeth and tilted his head, giving you his patience as he watched in detail what you were doing, to finally you place it so nicely, unwrapping it down his length and making him sigh which got your attention and you looked into his eyes, almost expecting to be approved but he saw your hands on his cock and then stared at you.

Chris almost in a reflex placed his hand on your cheek, holding you gently and looking at you tenderly, his eyes dark with desire but bright with the incredible feeling you made him sense, he involved feelings and there was nothing he could do, his heart was pounding in his chest and all he could think about was you.

“Alright, babygirl, take me” he sighed aroused and genuinely excited to have you close to him and for you to finally work on his cock.

You sketched a smile, sexual excitement took over your body and your pussy reacted by throbbing every muscle in it, almost screaming to be filled by him.

You took his hard penis almost halfway down his length, wrapped in the thin latex, and lifted your body, lining up your entrance at his tip and letting your body fall, you both made your respective sounds on the spot, you whimpered holding back, trying to adjust to his size stretching every part of you, and Chris for his part grunted again in relief, sucking air between his teeth, so pleased to feel his cock shoved into your soft, wet core, so deep and squeezing his member, almost smothering it in an infuriatingly pleasurable sensation.

“Ahh ah, you’re so big, daddy, fuck” you babbled in pain, dropping your body lower and lower until you caught his cock completely and enveloped it all over your newly used and pleasured —and slightly shattered— tight conduct, just for him.

Chris hummed in satisfaction and you stood still for a second, catching your breath, getting used to the new sensation of his big cock inside you, and watched him, he looked so fucking handsome, waiting with a sweet but penetrating look for you to move on your own in him; you inspected him and became more aroused at the thought of seeing him naked too as he had a dream body, to which you almost in a whisper asked him:

“Daddy, take it off too” you said, tugging at his shirt.

Chris giggled, “Whatever my baby asks, who wants to see her daddy all to herself.”

You subtly bit your lip and watched as carefully that he didn’t bump into you, Chris raised his strong arms, pulled off his shirt, and tossed it carelessly to the side. You saw his body brazenly, his prominent and marked pecs and abdomen, he was all a dream your sex throbbed again already with his cock inside. Chris smiled small and shyly, as he watched your delicate hands pass in comparison to his upper limbs, caressing with fascination his biceps area where on his slightly pale skin his veins were visible and bulging, you squeezed them a little and, in a gasp you pressed his chest to yours, wrapping your arm around the back of his neck, joining your ear to his cheek while with your other hand, you rested on one of his pecs, with some struggling but incredibly full of pleasure and inner fire, you began to move on his cock, causing both of you to moan.

Chris quickly wrapped his forearm around your ass, leaving his hand on your hip. The other one hugged you from your back, pulling you closer to his body, crushing your breasts into his chest and intensifying each deep thrust you had as he lifted your body and ass, sliding his great length in and some of it out until he found a rhythm between some pain, struggles, and ragged breaths. Your insides were squeezing his cock like they had never been before and Chris kept fantasizing about the fact that maybe the concept of innocence he had of you exceeded his expectations. Chirs was being fucking sweetly tortured, he was panting, seeing stars, lost with his chin on your shoulder inhaling your scent, and listening to every sweet moan of your adored body, he was being pleasured and stimulated to the limit.

“Ahh fuck, my babygirl, you feel sso fucking good, I fucking adore your tight pussy, ooh-my—, you’re doing great."

You were a mess, moaning in his ear as your frail body was being supported by Chris’ strength, moving your body up and down, in motions rubbing your whole pussy inside his cock and almost splitting you in two at the intense new sensation. You loved his moans close to your ear and the notorious pumping veins of his sex throbbing inside you. Chris slowly released you from his strong grips that left marks on your skin from the pressure delivered and massaged your ass and then placed his hands on your hips, he now being the one to enjoy his private show of you bouncing on his cock. You understood his action and intention instantly, so using all your strength and common senses, you began to move on him, with frantic and imperfectly persistent movements, you slid his length into your walls leaving you sweetly sore but after a while your poor pussy adapted to perfection, hearing your skins bump as you reached deep from time to time with his latex covered glans tickling your cervix, along with awkward and tender sporadic kisses. After minutes of whimpering, you were so close to your orgasm as well as he was, whose cock had been pumped and foreplayed just enough, Chris was about to explode in his second orgasm also filling the whole damn condom, but he noticed you stopped a moment, tired, when he wouldn’t even let you recover for a second, just like last night; Chris was always going to make sure to make you cum, beg and rejoice in pleasure, of that you could be sure.

“Aw, is my pretty baby tired? Let daddy take care of you, I’ll make you cum.”

His words rocked you, he spoke to you in exactly the same tone of voice as last night, whispering to you that he still wasn’t done with you after your body was exhausted and he continued to unload his energy into you, using you for pleasure, filling you with it too in the process.

Chris braced himself, his strong right arm went back around your back and his left hand held your buttock, you stayed still, he held you still, waiting for his next move and pulling your body off a little to see his concentrated face and then he began to lift his hips, collapsing his pelvis intensely and rapidly into your skin, making the act so hectic, desperate and sonorous. Chris gasped in pleasure, filling his body with his near orgasm and your breathless whimpers each time he rammed hard and deep into your pussy leaving you shocked, his thrusts were desperate but coordinated in a pace that weakened you and left you out of breath. His big length was sliding inside you without mercy, he had an exquisite control of his body and was strong enough to hold you while he kept penetrating you, moving your insides, pushing your cervix more and more, you felt your guts being brutally moved and that made you incredibly horny somehow.

You whimpered louder as you felt yourself being brutally pounded, filling the room with a bestial and erotic scene, your weak body surrendered to him, begging for the pleasure that suddenly filled every inch, with your moans, his babbling and your skins collapsing in the background. If anyone came near Chris’ office door they could be an audible witness to the grotesque sounds of the two of you.

“Shh shh, babygirl, keep a little quiet, okay? Just today baby, remember we’re not alone” Chris mumbled panting, turning you on more at the thought of fucking him secretly.

You bit your lip hard, almost making it bleed, your face and hair were a mess as was the rest of your satisfied and aching body. Your exposed breasts rubbed against his pecs hardening your nipples as your body moved intensely. Chris licked his lips, running the tip of tongue naughtily across his upper lip savoring your sweet orgasm as he felt your walls squeeze him hard, you endured quite a few hard thrusts from Chris, sweetly destroying your pussy, you endured enough to collapse into him, hugging him tightly and clenching his torso with your bent thighs and falling into an intense climax.

Chris smiled satisfied and proud and rammed your tired body a couple more times until he made himself cum inside you, this time in the condom.

You were both shaken and tired, without the slightest hint of guilt in your system, only lust and desire for each other, sharing ragged breaths, with your exhausted body on top of him, and your face resting on his muscular shoulder.

Chris stroked your back again, moving up to caress your hair, feeling your breath on his chest.

After a few moments he dared to speak:

“I’m sorry we have to do it here, you really deserve the best, babygirl.”

His words touched your heart and you played with his slightly curly hair at the back of his neck. Just thinking about him.

[…]

The rest of your weeks were just as hot as the exasperating weather. And you both came up with a plan, where you convinced your dad to leave Chris’ house a few weeks early, with the excuse that you had been selected for a few courses before the new semester started and you had to have accessibility to your university as soon as possible, to which your dad and Dahlia agreed to leave instantly without hesitation, arguing that your education was of the utmost importance, plus the only reason they were there was because you were having fun with Liv, once you left, Liv would soon ask her mother to leave too, since it would be pointless to stay there without you, besides Minho, but it was going to look too obvious that she wanted to stay. Then Minho would leave without a problem. You guys leaving would left Chris and Ruby alone, in an environment where Chris could finally break up with her.

And so they did, it was a very big break up for Ruby, but you didn’t want to know the details so you didn’t comment on it, let alone didn’t want to hear it from Chris, yet you heard it in the foreground from Liv, texting you and saying a bit apologetically: I really feel bad for her, she looked a bit delusional. Ruby was devastated, wondering if she had done something wrong or if suddenly inviting her family had been too soon and if it secretly irritated him, she really didn’t want to leave Chris, but she had noticed him distant at his house for a while now and always brought up as an excuse that he didn’t feel private enough to fuck her when previously he could do it with her so rashly wherever, they used to be so hot and close and a few days into spending the summer at his house everything about him suddenly changed.

You felt bad but you forgot about it once your dad bought the story of going back to college and, while they thought you were studying those weeks before your real semester started, you spent all your time with Chris going on all kinds of dates and exploring each other’s bodies, discovering more and more new and exciting positions and emotions you never thought you’d be able to experience this soon.

Things were going pretty well, he treated you like a princess, he showered you with gifts and each time he took you to different places to end the day in a fiery and exquisite sex, to start it the same way when you went to stay at his apartment, where it was your new meeting place as you felt that his summer home after all was… even though it was alone, you felt that there were ghosts, some better than others, of you and Chris having fun around his house sneaking around every corner you saw alone, but that there was also present a painful breakup along with the broken heart of a woman who should not have ended up like this. There were nights when, after culminating in an intense orgasm, you tried to recover in Chris’ arms, with your face on his chest feeling his heavy breathing and you could only think and think… that maybe the one who should be there was not you, but if you were not with Chris what sense would your life have, since he gave it a new meaning.

But it all got a little complicated when you were quietly shopping with Chris as he swore he was going to cook for you something delicious. You never thought he was that much of a homely guy, but he was, he was sweeter and softer than you thought and he had a soft spot for you, everything you said he would deliver, so you wanted to stop going to restaurants for a moment and enjoy his company in a sweet and silly moment together cooking. Plus you had gone back to college and the first week of classes was already getting on your nerves, but your very kind man who knows exactly what to do with you was going to take that weight and stress off your shoulders by having a nice time and then letting the situation take care of itself.

Grocery shopping was not much in fitting with Chris' image, however he, sweetly leaned over to put his chin on your shoulder, watching you debate over which can to take, to which he pointed to the one you were holding in your left hand, causing you so much tenderness at his closeness and smell, however you were heavily interrupted as you heard such a familiar voice that he instantly recognized.

“Chris?” she spoke.

He cursed internally and had no choice but to face her, turning around and finding his ex-girlfriend. Ruby took a confused look at your silhouette with your back turned, you looked so familiar to her but she wasn’t thinking straight as she realized Chris was already with someone else.

“Hey, Ruby. What are you doing here?” he greeted, falsely happy with a smile, more uncomfortable about the situation.

You were curious as soon as his name was called, but you remembered something else from shopping that you stood there, returning the can you held in your right hand and putting the other one in the shopping cart. But hearing Chris say her name you almost broke out in a cold sweat… you guessed the moment would come but you didn't imagine it would be so fast, you sighed thinking about how you had to face it and the world would move on just the same after your meeting and she finds out you're with Chris, move on so unimportantly it would just be an awkward afternoon and you'll still be with Chris afterwards.

“I like coming here since you recommended it to me. I see you're already in company” she said again, in a fake animated tone.

Ruby noticed him nervous, not knowing how to evade the situation, feeling bad that maybe he didn't even want to see her. But it was true, it was Chris' favorite place to buy his groceries and he had shown it to his ex-girlfriend too because it was so commonplace to him. Big mistake for her, although deep down she hoped that one day she could meet Chris alone and from there keep talking, but in her imagination there was a scenario where he was by himself.

Ruby was dying of curiosity to know who the girl was that Chris was so smitten with with his body attached to hers from behind. It all happened in quick seconds even though it seemed like tormenting hours of suspense. She never thought he would break up with her because there was someone else, it had barely been weeks and he seemed to be over her already.

“Yeah, well…” commented Chris.

You acted fast, turning around with grace that even made you look attractive and revealing your face, she got the immense and indescribable surprise that it was you. Her blood pressure dropped from her body, of all people she never expected to see you.

“Ah, hi Ruby, I ran into Chris too” you said trying to sound so natural, sketching a smile.

Ruby's world stopped for a second and you didn't have to be stupid enough to believe the obvious lie, you were together, there was no doubt about it. She had just watched as Chris positioned himself behind your body confidently, his hand gently on your waist and hunching down to let his chin rest on your shoulder.

She blinked in puzzlement, formulating all sorts of thoughts and ideas in seconds that made her uneasy, how was it that something suddenly came up between you, if you met when she introduced you, or so she wanted to believe, she thought about the possibility that you had met before, and the possibility of infidelity, but Ruby wanted to believe you, thinking that maybe you started right after their separation, it still seemed foolishly ridiculous and so soon.

“Why would you come here? The university is all the way across the city and you don't live nearby” was all she could say.

She read both of your expressions, tense and not knowing what to do.

“It's a trendy place…” you replied, to which Chris sighed.

“Are you two together? Since when?” she spoke a little beaten, anger filling her body.

Now she was judging you with her eyes, she was no longer a sad, blank stare, she wanted to kill you both.

“It was after we broke up” Chris answered him.

Your heart stopped for a moment as you finally heard his confession. You weren't exactly together, but you were exclusive to each other and did all sorts of activities.

Ruby smiled incredulously and unwilling to listen, she said:

“Sure, the thirty-something guy changes the woman close to his age for someone younger. Good luck with that.”

She walked away, glaring at you, she was unwilling to hear more about an affair with a college girl that seemed ridiculous to her, she thought you wouldn't last and that Chris was just using you to satisfy himself sexually and rejoice in your youth and slight innocence. She even felt bad for you, she was still devastated.

At first it was that for Chris but he was genuinely interested in you, putting aside everything that was once he established for himself: do not date young women because they were still immature and naive, including some who still relied heavily on their parents, which he was fine with, but moderately so.

You felt bad and judged, it was obvious that Chris was older and more mature than you, but he understood you so well, he treated you and made you feel good, besides people after thirty were not an retired old man, why judge you that way.

Chris didn't mind Ruby at all and turned to see you, noticing your crestfallen expression, he knew that by publicly walking around together at some point in your lives someone was going to notice.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” he whispered to you.

To which you nodded and evaded him by excusing yourself with finishing grocery shopping. On the way there he saw you just as pensive; Chris decided to talk gently to you, but he didn't know what your reaction would be so he didn't want to do it in the car in case the conversation escalated and could turn into your first argument. He wanted his attention completely on you and driving would affect that.

You helped him bring down the groceries once you got to his apartment and on the way in the elevator you sighed. You never cared what others might say but today in particular it affected you a little, enough that you didn't speak to Chris the whole time.

You left the groceries on the marble countertop and picked up your cell phone wanting to distract yourself a little. Chris sighed, walked over to you putting his hands on your waist and made you look at him with a:

“Hey, look at me” your eyes met his, everything about him was your weakness, suddenly you were shaking, “We both knew this was going to happen, we just didn't know when and it was going to be unexpected. Don't care what people think, I'm here with you… do you want to stay here with me?”

You looked him in the eye the whole time. You literally didn't care the first time you had sex with him, you were a virgin and he had a girlfriend… you didn't know why hardly the guilt was falling on you as he was finally single and only for you. It all made sense when you felt him close to you.

“Yes, I'm with you” you replied, “I'm sorry.”

Chris smiled sideways, “You don't have to apologize.”

You were slightly overwhelmed between the fact that someone like Chris was taking you seriously, you really thought at first that with him it would be purely sexual, but he knew how to balance it so well, he would say the right words to you and then make you feel so fucking good, always in command of the situation.

You noticed him getting close to your face and received his kiss, just when you needed it so badly to be able to calm down a little, you really went back to your state of mind where you didn't care what they said, he was for you and you wanted him and he made you feel like it was reciprocated. He was the best. You left your cell phone on the counter and kept kissing him.

You thought for short seconds that it was going to be a fleeting kiss but he intensified it, bringing his body more closely to yours and kissing you more carefully and passionately. As he slowly pulled away from you, he licked his lips, he watched you with desire and bright eyes appreciating every part of your face now more animated and enlightened, compared to a few moments when you were slightly sad. He was more than happy to make you feel good and that you were still the same sweet woman that caught his attention a few weeks ago at his summer house, so willing to him and with clear thoughts of being able to have him.

“They don't know how fucking good you make me feel” he blurted out suddenly in a tone you know so well.

Chris was excited, thinking he would remove every negative feeling from your adoring body with his discharge of sexual energy he had for you. And he knew you were going to love every part of the process as you always end up doing, so he was quick to slide his hands under your blouse and kiss your neck, you wanted to tell him so many things, you wanted to whisper to him how much you liked what he was doing but you were engrossed in the new sensations.

Your heart pounded, you saw his slightly mischievous smile before his kisses traveled down your neck, warming your body and driving you crazy at the feel of his lips and nose on your skin, any slightest thing from Chris turned you on in seconds it was breathtaking. You closed your eyes enjoying yourself as his hands squeezed your body, thinking he was starting something you both know very well and you were excited to find out what Chris' next command to you would be. However, just as your docile bodies warmed up, a call to you distracted you, your cell phone was ringing and ringing at the kitchen island, you whispered to Chris to ignore it and continue with his lips on you but the call didn't seem to go away and was persistent, so Chris somewhat annoyed and disappointed persuaded you to pick up, followed by a sigh and removing his hands from your skin. You also sighed in annoyance and tried to sound calm when you were in an incredibly horny mood.

Chris rested his hand on the edge of the counter, waiting for you to finish your call but your expression upset him a little; it was your mother who was asking you where you were and that she didn't understand why your father was hysterical, mentioning a man named Chris, you rolled your eyes, the last thing you wanted was for a scene to form, but it was inevitable. After the call with your mother, you received countless messages from Liv that you were afraid to even look at, messages from your father prohibiting you from seeing Chris, it was a lot to process, so he let out a soft, concerned:

“Is everything okay? Is something wrong?”

You had fallen silent, staring raptly at your cell phone. You sighed as you listened to Chris and put your cell phone on silent mode, completely ignoring the big problem that was forming and that you believed with your being that they would soon get over it, since there was nothing wrong, you saw nothing wrong, you loved him and he loved you and you planned to stay like that for a while, enjoying and learning every single thing with him.

You shook your head, smiling and taking a few steps so you could hug him and wrap your arms around his neck. Chris could sense something was wrong but feeling your closeness instantly calmed him down, just as he had that effect on you and was the reason you sought to hug him.

“Everything is fine” you replied calmly, your body close to his.

“I think I can already figure out what kind of call it was…”

You laughed softly not wanting Chris to feel guilty; you both knew that at some point this day would come as your encounters progressed and you found yourselves fascinated by each other, you really didn't expect your close people to accept overnight so simply some sort of relationship with an older man you met being someone else's partner, but… it happened.

“It's okay, and here with you” you repeated to him what he had told you a few moments ago, making him smile.

----------------------------

𐙚TAGLIST: @rylea08 @hann1bee @iovecb97 @armystay89 @bubblebisk @lolareadsimagines @jisunglyricist

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asumi2020202 · 6 months ago

Text

Everything has a Price to Pay

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader

Summary: Daemon's hired men, whilst trying to slay Aemond in his bed, accidentally harmed his wife and his son and Aemond blames his wife for it.

A/n: The 2nd episode of s2 broke my heart. The way Helaena clung to her son's blanket. But anyways, this is something which is somewhat based on the storyline of ep 1 and 2 of s2 but unlike the directors taking out Alys Rivers from the show, I'm including her. Thank you for reading!

______ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ___________________________

All throughout the kingdom, you were known to be the gentlest of souls much like your sister. Though she was naive and all too forgiving, you were a bit unlike her. You preferred knowledge but both of you were kind.

Your marriage to Aemond was exactly like Aegon and Helaena's. To keep the bloodline pure. Except the only difference was that both of you loved each other and that he was not like Aegon.

You always stayed with either your sister or your husband ever since a child. Or sometimes you would accompany your eldest brother, he only had you who understood him.

Unlike his brother and nephews, you didn't tease and harrass Aemond, for you too knew what it felt like to not be heard. He felt as if he could only seek comfort in you and his mother as a child and even now.

When he had claimed Vhagar, he had to pay the cost with his eye.

He realised he loved you when the maester and maids tried to usher you away saying the stitching and mending to his face would too horrific to see for your gentle soul yet you stood your ground and held his hand while your mother pleaded for justice.

You felt hate for your father. For he blindly trusted his daughter, disregard anyone else. If someone even asks him your name he probably would not be able to say.

After that incident in the Red Keep, your half-sister's family fled to Dragonstone.

_________________________________________

War had started. Your mother along with your grandsire, successfully installed Aegon on the throne. Your husband Aemond had took the life of your nephew.

You knew that the House of the Dragon would tear each other apart. With no literal escape.

It was only some days before your child would be born. Having your first child with your husband. The only happiness in this devastating time.

Your happiness has crashed down when you got a raven. Your husband was laying with some bastard whore in Harrehal. The only thoughts you would get were

Did he not love me? He always swore that he would never leave me and stay by my side, that he will be different than our father.

He looked happy when he got to know of our child yet he is laying with another woman.

What did I do wrong?

Why did he lie?

He left you right when the war had been declared and he finalized it by killing your nephew.

Your mother tried to help you. Completely disappointed in her son. She raised him better yet he still did this. Harming her daughter, hurting her emotions and dishonouring her.

You stayed with Helaena until the pressure of it all became too much to bear and ultimately pushing you towards your labor.

_________________________________________

You laid in your bed crying, sweating and panting, while your husband was who knows where.

You held tight onto your mother's hand as Helaena quietly said "A price must be paid for all that is done."

Soon enough your child was born. It was a son. Your little Aenor.

Moonfyre's roar were heard. She could sense a new presence. One familiar to her bonded sister.

You cried as you took your son in your arms, your mother kissing your head as your sister gently rubbed your arms.

_________________________________________

Moonfyre had laid her eggs 3 weeks before your son's birth.

It had been a week since you had Aenor. Since your husband, if you can even call him that now, had not returned. You took it upon yourself to get him his own dragon egg.

As you walked through the dragon pit, you saw some dragon keepers scared.

"Moonfyre iksos daor īlva jikagon va zyhōn. Nyke suggest ziry would sagon wise naejot daor jikagon va zyhōn nykeā zyhōn drōma sir." Said a dragon keeper.

Moonfyre is not letting us go near her. I suggest it would be wise to not go near her or eggs now.

"Dīnagon aside. Nyke shall ūndegon skoros nyke kostagon gaomagon." Came your reply.

Move aside. I shall see what I can do.

As you walked further in, you saw you dragon, guarding her precious eggs.

You walked towards her. She's let's out a small noise upon recognising you. You gently placed your hand on her snout and then your forehead. With her wings she gently pushed you towards her eggs, guarding you.

You chose an egg for your son. Before leaving, you patted her snout and scratched it a bit, giving her some comfort.

_________________________________________

Night had already fallen over kings landing. You were with your son in your shared chambers. He had fallen asleep to your gentle humming.

As you were cradling your son to your chest, you heard the door being opened. You thought it was perhaps a maid but as you turned around you saw the rat catcher that comes everyday.

He was smirking and held a knife. Soon after him, entered a muscular man who had a knife as well.

"A son .. for a son he said." Said the muscular man. "Oh but look there, thats his son." Replied the rat catcher to the other man.

As the other one looked at you, you felt dangered.

"I.. have a necklace. It.. is of great value.." you cradled your son closer to your chest with one arm while with the other hand you tried to open the necklace.

The muscular man simply tore it away from your neck. Fear was evident in your eyes. You took a step back as the rat catcher said

"Hand him over and you'll live. We only need him."

As he approached you, you placed your right hand over your right thigh where your own dagger was kept.

The rat catcher tried to forcefully take your son but before he could do so, you kicked him in his crotch. While writhing in pain, he slashed your arm. The other one was coming towards your son, but as he tried to slash him in your arms you turned around.

His blade dug through your back. Muscles getting slashed. Extreme pain courses through you. Yet you didn't give up. U took out your dagger and slashed his cheek and stabbed his chest. As he flinched away, you took your chance and ran out the room, you nightgown red with your blood.

You didn't know where to go. Time was limited. You could hear faint moaning noises. Cradling your son closer to your chest, with your jaw on his head, you followed the noise.

You came infront of your mother's chambers and entered without a second thought. You saw her with Ser Cole but you didn't care about that. Your energy was running out. A lot of blood was lost. You didn't even know if you would survive.

With your remaining strength you said "Mother". You shakily walked to her and somehow gave her your son as you collapsed beside her bed.

Alicent's scream could be heard from everywhere. She couldn't believe her eye. Her little sweet y/n was bleeding out in front of her. She put Aenor on her bed as he wailed out loudly.

Alicent kneeled before her daughter and hugged her to her chest. Her blanket and body getting bloodied. She cried and cried.

Aegon and Helaena had appeared as well. Helaena couldn't watch, tears flowing from her eyes. She took Aenor as a maid escorted them away to her room.

Aegon rushed beside his mother and sister. Gently taking her in his arms as maester Orwyle came through hurriedly, asking Aegon to put you on the bed.

Aegon very carefully laid you on your stomach on the bed. While maester Orwyle asked them to leave the room, both your brother and mother did not stop crying.

_________________________________________

Aemond had landed on the Red Keep. Getting off of Vhagar, he walked inside the castle. As he entered, he could see a man being dragged to the dungeon. Blood everywhere. Maids rushing around.

He saw his brother. But he wasn't as he usually was. He knew after becoming the king, Aegon had changed, but now he looked completely different.

His hair not brushed. Eyes red and tired. Blood. He was covered in blood.

As Aemond walked towards him, he heard Aegon say to a guard "kill every rat catcher you can find. Spare none."

Aegon looked away from the guard and saw Aemond. His eyes filled with fury. He marched towards him and grabbed his collar.

"Finally came back huh brother? It could've been avoided with you here yet you chose your whore over everything else." Aegon said, trying to keep his calm which is very unlikely of him.

Aemond felt ashamed and confused. Ashamed for being disloyal to you and dishonouring the family and confused thinking about what Aegon was saying.

"Look I'm sorry brother, that was a mistake. But do explain what you mean by it could've been avoided. What has happened?"

"Our sister had given birth to your son a week ago. And today she-" Aegon stopped. His tears flowing uncontrollably. "T-today she and my nephew were attacked. She is badly wounded. Maester Orwyle is with her but he said that she lost a lot of blood. That she was already weak from the birth and now this." With this Aegon completely broke down.

Aemond's breathing stopped. He chose his whore over you. The one who always stood up for him. He felt ashamed. So ashamed that he might sink and drown.

He ran towards his mother's room after Aegon told him where you were while he went down the dungeons to deal with the man who dare hurt you.

As Aemond reached, he saw his mother. Scared and fearful. He knew he fucked up bad. As she noticed him, she walked up towards him, looked him in the eyes and slapped him. He deserved it.

_________________________________________

You slowly opened your eyes, trying to take in your surroundings. You saw your husband pacing around the room.

He noticed that you were awake and spoke. "You're awake" you remained silent as you recalled the events of last night.

"Aenor.... My son.. my son Aenor! Is he okay?! Did he get hurt?!" Your enquired as you suddenly sat up, ignoring the pain in your body. Worried for your son.

"He only had a small cut on his feet. Nothing else. He is okay." Aemond replied helping you back down. You felt relieved and finally acknowledged your pain and groaned.

He didn't knew what came over him in an instance. He felt anger towards the ones who hurt you and his son. He was angry with himself but instead it got directed at you.

"If only you had taken better care of the security, none of this would've happened.." he muttered.

"What?" You sat up again, not believing your ears.

"If only you knew how to fight, this would've never happened! You can't fight, can't run, you can't even protect our child like a mother should!! You should have called more guards!!" He shouted while pointing his finger at you.

You got up from your mother's bed and stood as you held onto the bed.

"It is my fault now?! Huh?! You're the one who's irresponsible. You left me!! You left me and my child to fend for ourselves!! You left us for your whore whom you sought comfort in instead of your wife!! Where were you when we were attacked huh?! Were you fucking your whore?! Were you creating your bastards?!

You promised me that you were different. That you would treat me with respect unlike other husbands with their wives. You said you were different but...... You're just more of the same.." your voice raised and came down as tears flowed rapidly. Your would reopened because of how tensed your body was. Your nightgown was starting to get bloodied again.

Aemond was shocked. He yelled at his precious wife. His gentle lady wife. And she who never raised her voice no matter how angry or raged up she may be, shouted at him.

He fucked up greatly.

You winced as you fell to the ground. Blood getting everywhere as Aemond rushed to your side and gently tried to pick you up but you refused.

"Don't. Do not touch me with the hands that you used to hold her. I may be a woman. I may be the most vulnerable, but I have an honor. Neither my son nor do I need you. I will ask Aegon to annul our marriage. After that you may return to your whore and I will raise my son alone." You said, wincing as pain shot through you body.

Your lady in waiting came in and got you up on the bed and called maester Orwyle.

As Aemond got up from the floor, he was speechless. He never knew one mistake would cost him his everything. The words you spoke hurt more than when he lost his eye.

The entire day those words circled his thoughts.

_________________________________________

It had been a week since the last time Aemond met you. He had went to Harrehal and returned. Aemond walked inside your shared chambers after he got to know that you shifted back there. Aegon provided two guards infront of your door.

He watched as you cradle your son to your chest with your left hand which was fine and hummed a valyrian song to him.

You stopped as you as noticed him. You gently put Aenor in his crib and straightened your back.

"I'm sorry" he started.

"You sorry means nothing to me. You say your sorry now but next chance you get you'll run back in her arms." You spoke, gazing out the window.

"There will be no next time. I got rid of everything that would come in between us." He replied as your body stilled after hearing his words.

"Whatever do you mean?" You asked, turning back to face him.

"I got rid of her. All i now need is your forgiveness. For you to accept me again. To trust me again. Please avy jorrāelan. Forgive me this once." He begged as he got down on his knees and held your hand.

You were shocked. He killed her. He killed her without a second thought. You wanted to loathe him but deep down you loved him.

"I don't know..... I don't know anymore. I want to trust you Aemond. But I can't. I can't trust you. You've hurt me far too much.

It'll take a while to heal the scar you inflicted upon me but I will try. I will try to forgive you." You replied shakily.

He got up and hugged you lightly not to press on your wounds.

"Thank you my love. Thank you" he spoke as he kissed your head.

You gave in to his warm embrace. War has started. But right now you just want to be held.

You would think later of how to punish those who dare harm your family.

Those who hurt your son will pay. They will pay with their life. And you will see to it that they burn in flames. You will make sure that they rot in hell even if you too would have to.

After all nothing is for free....

Everything has a Price to Pay.......

-Lillian

#game of thrones #got #hotd #house of the dragon #fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #prince aemond #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x female reader #Aemond Targaryen x yn #aemond the kinslayer #x reader #x yn #ewan mitchell #hbo max

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misstycloud · 5 months ago

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Ok so we know how the Cowboy yan reacts to an indifferent city girl reader…BUT…

How’d he react and handle a reader who’s a bit of a ditzy bimbo in the best way possible? (Think of Marilyn Monroe’s character from, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, if you’ve ever seen the movie. I really recommend it!)

Yandere cowboy x bimbo. reader

If reader was the stereotypical dumb, pretty girl, the cowboy would find it very endearing. He’s not the smartest one of the bunch himself, so he’d think it’s cute. If it was the other way around and reader being insanely intelligent, he’d still love them and tell her how sexy he finds it. However, he probably wouldn’t be able to help feeling unworthy since he’s more brawn than brain.

The cowboy would make it his responsibility to protect reader(he would no matter what but especially in this case). She’s too careless: trusting anyone who throws her a smile! It’s not safe. Reader is pretty too, so there’s a big chance some creep will become obsessed with her and stalk her. The cowboy doesn’t trust her to notice someone hiding in the bushes on her way home, following her every step. Of course he had to make sure she’s safe by walking at a safe distance behind her whenever she went home alone. Only so she’ safe, though. Not so he can drag his gaze over her form and imagine sinful fantasies involving both of them. And especially not so he can linger outside the bedroom window until the sun starts to rise.

It wouldn’t take long for him to start manipulating his darling. Every day there would be speeches on how only he truly cares for her, how everyone else tries to take advantage of her, of how she needs him.

If bimbo reader told the cowboy she had to leave the village and go back to the city, he would immediately convince her it’s not a good idea. From all the previous conversations, he has picked up enough information about her friends to come up with unlikely scenarios. He’ll say that they’re not her friends and that they’re obviously just pretending. From her stories about them, it’s clear that they treat her awfully. Why would she go back?

If that doesn’t work, the cowboy will activate the water work.

The poor, kindhearted bimbo reader can’t abandon someone so pitiful. The way he sobs and begs her to stay is seriously tugging on her heart strings.

In all, he wouldn’t treat her so differently compared to indifferent reader, except that he’s a bit more protective and thinks she’s naive and therefore need him. I mean, he’d think she needs him not matter what but this is in a more practical way. The cowboy would do everything for bimbo reader. Need some water? He’s getting a glass from the cupboard right now. Need to change the lightbulb? He’s the best at changing lightbulbs! You want some flowers in your garden? He’s out in the field plucking wild flowers and will even replant them for you.

With (for example) the indifferent reader, he would recognise that she wants to do things on her own and let her.

Not with bimbo reader though. She is too sweet, she might accidentally hurt herself.

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aryxchse · 10 months ago

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percy doesn't know.

— leo valdez x daughter of poseidon! reader.

inspired from the song ;; scotty doesn't know by lustra

summary ;; percy is oblivious about leo fucking his sister at every chance he gets.

warnings ;; nsfw stuff i guess, no full smut though. percy is being oblivious as hell, reader is sneaky and leo's a little bastard <3

a / n ;; wish my english was good enough to actually write some good smut, but please don't kill me because i just implied it 👐🏻 OH and they're aged up, obvi.

Percy doesn't know that y/n and me

Do it in my cabin every Sunday

She tells him she's in lake but she doesn't go

Still she's on her knees and Percy doesn't know

y/n l/n, percy jackson's precious little sister. she was only a year younger than him, but he still acted like she was a baby. he tried to protect her at all costs and sweared that he would kill anyone who looked at her wrong.

and when she told him that she was dating with leo, he couldn't help but get even more protective. but he did not have the right to say something, because he was happily in love with annabeth. and y/n just wanted to live that kind of love too, she deserved it.

so when she told him she was going to lake, to swim and meditate a little, he believed her. she was too soft and naive to do something secretly behind him anyways. at least, that's what percy told to himself.

little did he didn't know was that y/n, was going to bunker 9.

"finally," leo breathed out when he saw his perfect girlfriend y/n. "thought percy didn't let you be alone."

y/n smiled mischiefly as she approached to him, already seeing him hard. it looked like it hurt, and she would do anything to make her sweet boyfriend satisfied. "doesn't matter, i'm here right? let me help you with that." she said, pointing his arousal.

leo only smirked when she got down to her knees.

I can't believe he's so trusting

While I'm right behind you thrusting

y/n's got him on the phone

And she's trying not to moan

"h-hi, perce. what's up?" she said, trying to hold her voice stable.

she wasn't going to open the phone, really. but leo, being a little shit he is, insisted. appearently he wanted to see how much his girlfriend was capable of holding herself.

besides, leo was too heated at the moment that he didn't even cared when percy called. she was close, he was close, they were so close to having the feeling of paradise. percy would enter the room and leo would still keep pounding into her, that's how hot he was. he couldn't stop.

leo bited back a laugh, thrusting into her more. he bended her over at his working table, the metal stuff throwed on the ground long ago. she tried to scratch the table but of course, failed.

"no, thank you i don't want anything." she said, arching her back more as leo kept his speed. she was so close to exploding that she was afraid she wouldn't be able to muffle her moans like she did now.

percy was on a date with annabeth at the amusement park and he was catching some plushies now. and he knew how his sister loved plushies, especially sea creature themed ones. "well, m-maybe you can get the shark one, thanks perce." she said, tears rolling down as her voice shaked a bit.

"okay, love you too. kiss annabeth for me." she said before hanging up, and releasing herself with a loud cry. she screamed all of the voices she kept inside while she hit her orgasm, panting on leo's desk. it didn't take much longer for leo to cum after her, a breathless chuckle leaving his lips.

"you did so well, princesa." he panted, kissing her back.

I did her on his birthday

percy doesn't know

it was august 18th, percy's birthday. everyone of their friends were invited, so it was normal for leo being there too.

the house was full of people, that percy couldn't even look or talk with his sister more than two minutes. everyone congratulated him on his new age and how handsome he turned out. bla, bla, bla.

y/n wore a white skirt with a blue crop top that leo got her at her birthday. he didn't said anything while he handed it to her, but the low neckline was making her boobs look gorgeous. and he don't even mention of how hot that top looked with that skirt.

leo held her hand as he whispered in her ear. "i need you, right now." he whispered in a desperate tone, a tone she couldn't say no to.

"leo we can't— the house is too crowded and-" leo kissed her neck secretly, only making her squirm under his touch. "that's why no one would notice." he whispered in her ear.

percy was talking with annabeth when he saw y/n taking leo's hand and dragging him to somewhere. "y/n!" he called, making the couple turn around.

"w-what's up?" she asked, trying to sound not too panicked. percy didn't noticed, thanks to gods. "where are you two going?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. which annabeth was going to be mad at him for it later.

"i gotta pee man, and she's leading me to the bathroom." leo explained, hiding behind her so that percy won't see his boner. percy was going to say something, but was intrupted by annabeth.

"okay then, we wouldn't want leo to pee in his pants on your birthday, right babe?" annabeth asked, not caring if percy was going to answer or not. and not waiting for it either. "but-" percy tried to say.

"great! be quick though, we're about to give him his presents." annabeth said like she knew, she winked to the couple. y/n gave her a warm smile, in a way only she could understand what she meant behind it. thank you, you're the best!

annabeth dragged percy to the kitchen while the couple got upstairs, making out the moment they entered the bathroom.

a / n ;; thanks for reading, you really survived to here fr 🫶🏻

#annabeth the cupid she is #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the heroes of olympus #percy jackson series #pjo hoo toa #pjo show #pjo tv show #leo valdez headcanons #leo valdez imagines #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x y/n #leo valdez x you

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annievrse · 4 days ago

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How'd You Turn It Right Around? / Act IV

Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader Summary: When your captain, Luffy, tells you to run from Bartholomew Kuma on the Sabaody Archipelago instead of fighting, you end up on a submarine. Takes place post-time skip. W/C: 20.3k C/W: Fic structure: Sabaody Archipelago → Zou spoilers, canon timeline but majority canon-divergent events, she/her pronouns, no use of y/n. Content: Mentions of torture and violence, Doflamingo (& his past), anxiety, descriptions of injuries, blood, and more violence. A/N: Welcome to the final instalment of Labyrinth! I'm so beyond excited to share this with you, and I hope you find it a fitting ending for a story I've poured so much of myself into. This chapter is more reader-focused, but Law isn't far away! Enjoy!!

Labyrinth Series Masterlist

— Scene 1 —

Much to your chagrin, the Palace is nothing short of elegant—it disgusts you. You sit on the highest level, gazing over a country ruled by a sadistic, arrogant psychopath, and wonder how you ended up here. You could have fought him back on Green Bit, but with Law so close and Doflamingo so ruthless, you took the first out offered to you. Law isn’t weak, you know this, but with his motive so personal, he would act irrationally and maybe get himself killed in the process. So, you took it upon yourself to save him, which cuts him deeply. You know you shouldn’t be putting him through this, but it’s his life or yours. And he deserves to live.

There’s shuffling behind you, Doflamingo’s executives preparing the chamber for something. They give you wary looks, some laced with terror and some with curiosity, and you wonder what he told them.

“Dreamweaver.”

You scowl at the name and turn. “Don’t call me that.”

Doflamingo leans against the massive throne that faces the window, his looming figure ominous. You stumble backwards, the backs of your thighs hitting the other throne behind you. There are specks of blood splattered on his pink, feathered coat, but you don’t linger on them for too long, scared of what your mind will conclude.

“Touchy,” He mutters, sucking his teeth. “Your dear Law will be here soon.”

Your eyes narrow. “What?”

A grim smile paints his lips. “I captured him, you know, so that I can kill him… if he isn’t already dead.”

You squint at him, the urge to ask what he means by that on the tip of your tongue. The awkward air between you is palpable, but you don’t turn your back to him. “You said—”

“Did I?” Doflamingo interrupts, and then you close your eyes and scold yourself for being so naive, so trusting. He lied about resigning from the Warlords, even got the newspaper to cover it, yet you believed he’d stay away from Law in exchange for your cooperation. How foolish.

“He fought so valiantly for you,” He continues, pouting. “Too bad it wasn’t enough. He’s just as weak as he was as a child.”

Vexation churns in your stomach, and you regard him with such revulsion that Doflamingo cackles. Angry tears burn your eyes as you clench your jaw.

“Who knew the brat could have someone like you caring for him? Someone with an ability so beyond the realm of human comprehension—”

“Young master,” A man says from the doorway, effectively cutting Doflamingo off. “There are some issues on the lower levels.”

He scowls, his fingers jagged. It’s too late before you fathom what’s happening. The man falls to the floor, his body writhing. His cries are broken, and you watch in horror as the man’s limbs twist and snap grotesquely. You blanch at the sight of his mangled body, his bones turning to ash under his skin.

Doflamingo's malice is unlike anything you've ever witnessed, his wicked grin stretching wider with each passing moment. He chuckles darkly, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure as he looks down at the man, who lies unconscious from the torment.

“They never learn, do they?”

You don’t breathe. The man’s body dangles like a marionette, invisible strings controlling his limbs.

“Stop,” You whisper. The sound is almost muted, but a strangled cry escapes your throat when the corners of the man’s mouth rise into a sick, unnatural grin. “Stop!”

Doflamingo looks over his shoulder, his arm raised as he plays with the man like a toy. “Make me.”

If you were thinking clearly, you'd realise this was a test—a twisted way for Doflamingo to gauge the limits of your power. But at this moment, all you can focus on is the overwhelming urge to wrap your hands around his throat and squeeze—for Law, for this man, for everyone who’s suffered at Doflamingo’s hands. You can hardly believe you fell for his manipulative words.

Then Law’s face flashes in your mind, and you feel the tension in your fist ease. You have to stick this out. You can’t let your emotions take over—not with Doflamingo. You can’t let yourself die before seeing Law finally exact the revenge he’s carried since childhood. You cling to the loathing and raw fury that fuels you, and a smile twists your lips.

“I’m not playing games.”

The King of Dressrosa pauses his assault and drops the man to the floor, his body tumbling like slime. “I’m glad. Neither am I.”

He faces you, sunglasses reflecting the sun shining through the windows. Behind him, the man’s soul exits his body and enters Seam. You hope he has a nice time there.

A crash echoes from below, muffled by the palace's many levels, but neither of you moves. You lock eyes with him, and the way he runs his tongue over his teeth tells you everything—you’re confident no one has dared meet his gaze like this in a long time.

“Wanna tell me why you kidnapped me in the first place?”

“Fiesty.” He was having fun. Nobody has spoken to him like this before and gotten away with it.

You cock your head.

“Not one for jokes, then,” Doflamingo sighs with a hint of humour. “You possess the Sew-Sew Fruit, correct?”

Nodding warily, you watch as he gestures with his hand.

“There’s your answer.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Doflamingo pauses, almost dumbstruck. “You really don’t know what you are?”

“Clearly not.”

“Calm it with the fire, sweetheart.”

You feel your body go numb, and suddenly, you feel like you’re floating outside of yourself. “Don’t call me that.”

Doflamingo smirks. “What? Sound familiar?”

“Fuck you.”

“Don’t think Law would like that very much. Though, I’ve never cared what that brat likes.”

You take a step back, gaze sweeping his body with disgust. “Are you done?”

“Who do you think is in control here, dollface? Because it sure as hell isn’t you.”

“I’m not fighting you.”

“Smart.”

A knock on the wide-open door draws you from your staring contest, and you swallow thickly.

“Yes?”

“Young master, we’re here to deliver your package.”

The thought of Law being treated like nothing more than a package ignites a searing rage inside you. Your lover sways unsteadily on his feet, clearly unconscious, as massive men drag him through the door. Sea-prism stone cuffs bite into his wrists so tightly that blood drips from his fingertips.

They throw him onto the throne, their hands moving swiftly to attach chains to his cuffs on either side of the chair. His head hangs limply, his body a dead weight. The sight twists something dark and cold in your gut.

“Pity. He’s not dead.”

You’re too immersed in a state of shock to react to Doflamingo’s comment. What happened after Green Bit that could’ve led to this?

He greets the newcomers with a casual nod—Baby 5 and Buffalo, both familiar from Punk Hazard. Doflamingo lets out a long sigh as he moves toward the chair opposite Law, stretching his arms high above his head before settling into the seat. You watch, tense, as he relaxes into the position: one leg crossed over the other, arms folded, head tilted in a way that suggests he’s ready for an interrogation—or at least, that's how it seems to you.

Doflamingo uses his strings to reel you in, his grip on you almost suffocating in possessiveness. You bite your lip, fighting back the surge of nausea. How dare he.

Law sits slumped, his hat missing and his clothes in tatters. Upon closer inspection, you see the skin of his stomach streaked with dried blood.

“Nice of you to join us, Law.”

Your eyes snap to his face, and your breath catches when his weary gaze locks with yours. It takes him a moment to register it’s you, and then he’s struggling against his restraints. You force yourself to bite your tongue, stopping yourself from doing something reckless.

“Let her go! This is between you and me!”

Doflamingo blinks, a slow, mocking grin stretching across his face. “Oh, I didn’t take her unwillingly. There were... conditions. I made that clear in front of the Colosseum.”

Law’s usually indifferent, half-lidded gaze is now sharp and wild as he scans your body. You seem unhurt, standing there unrestrained, but Law knows you too well. He knows exactly what Doflamingo must have said to make you comply, and he realises that tearing out his own heart without his power would hurt less than seeing you like this.

“Well, your conditions don’t mean anything, do they? I’m still here.”

You lunge forward, anger burning in your chest, hands poised to strike at Doflamingo. But before you can move, you stagger back, the strength of invisible strings pulling you against the wall. Law grunts, realising you are physically being controlled by Doflamingo.

With a low snarl, you glare at Doflamingo, focusing on the minuscule needles aimed at his eyes. He senses the danger, and with a flick of his index finger, he effortlessly swats the nearly invisible metal rods away from his face.

“Try that again, and Law dies. Got it?”

Your lover looks up at you through his lashes, the blaze in his irises sparking brighter. “Don’t touch her.”

Doflamingo smirks, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “Pathetic. You’ve become a fool, Law.”

His breaths are ragged as he squirms in the chains. Law is losing his composure. “I will fucking kill you!”

Doflamingo lets out a low chuckle beside you, and Law shoots him a venomous glare.

"Don’t even look at her."

A whimper escapes you as the restraints tighten, and Doflamingo pulls you roughly in front of him. His eyes slide over your body, making you shiver with disgust.

“What are you gonna do if I do? Huh? Keep throwing empty threats at me?” He spins you around so you’re body is facing Law, and he drags a finger along your throat.

Law huffs through his nose, his muscles straining as he tries to wrench the cuffs off his wrists. He grunts with pain, but the blood dripping from his skin doesn’t stop him from trying again. You focus on him, silently willing him to meet your gaze, to understand the message in your eyes—that everything will be okay.

When he finally looks at you, you inhale sharply, furrowing your brow in a silent promise: no matter what happens, you’ll both make it out of here alive. The unspoken exchange lingers between you briefly before Doflamingo clears his throat, breaking the tension.

“Enough.” The expression on Doflamingo's face indicates his disturbed attitude towards the connection between you and Law, and he stands.

“Something wrong, Young Master?” Buffalo asks, oblivious to whatever understanding his master has of his two hostages. “Did you hear something?”

Doflamingo ignores him and approaches Law, his hands in his pockets. “You’ve caused me a lot of trouble, brat. I’m not about to let you mess this one up too.”

Law scowls up at him, his lip curling. “You can’t control me anymore.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” The King laughs, his hand jerking quickly to draw you toward him. You stumble but catch yourself before you fall. “As long as I have her, you’re nothing but a slave.”

Suddenly, a giant boulder comes out of nowhere, crashing from the left side of the room with a slick zing of a sword to lob off Doflamingo’s head. You stand there in awe and bewilderment as you see the blonde head tumble to the floor and bounce away. The scene before you is grisly and horrifying, but where you expect blood, there’s nothing. You blink in horror at the lack thereof, and your brain struggles to catch up to the present.

There are screaming and guttural cries around you, but you stare at the stump where Doflamingo’s neck is—how is he still standing?

Everything makes sense: how he flies, controls a body like a puppet, and can stand without a head… it all stems from the strings. The same strings that control the country’s citizens, the ones that held Law against the tree on Green Bit, and the ones that wrap around your waist to keep you compliant are controlled by Doflamingo.

You gasp and turn, spotting a man battling Baby 5 and Buffalo. It wasn't a boulder after all, but a gladiator-clad figure who had just sliced Doflamingo’s head clean off his body—or, his fake body. Thinking fast, you conjure a needle and swiftly sever the strings binding you. A wave of relief washes over you as they drop to the floor.

Law watches you, his expression calm, though he knows exactly what you're planning. You rush toward him but halt abruptly, the sea prism cuffs sending a jolt of dread through you. "Shit."

"There’s no time," Law snaps, his voice laced with urgency, making the anxiety in your stomach spike. "Go while you still can."

“Like hell.”

“Traffy!”

You let out a scoffing laugh, recognising that voice all too well. Luffy calls your name moments later, his smile stretching wider. His timing is, as always, perfect.

“You’re okay!”

“I am,” You reply, exhaling with relief. Your heart clenches at the sight of him, and for a brief moment, all you can wish for is that Luffy would scoop you and Law up and whisk you both away to some peaceful, far-off island.

A woman runs alongside Luffy, a key in her hand. Luffy grabs it from her and nearly tackles you in his rush. With Doflamingo’s headless body, his executives battling a gladiator, and you finally free from his grasp, Law sits frozen, overwhelmed by the commotion around him.

“How’re you here, Straw Hat?”

The key is shoved into your hands, Luffy shaking with anticipation. “Do it.”

“Me?” You blink. “I can’t touch sea-prism stone either.”

“Did you destroy the factory?” Law side-eyes Luffy.

“Why’s it always business with you?” Luffy asks, pouting. “What if I just wanted to save you guys?”

Your hands tremble as you aim the key at the cuff's keyhole. Without touching them, you can’t unlock the cuffs properly. “I can’t do it.”

“What if we—”

A chill spreads through your body like a bucket of ice water has been dumped directly over your head. A sinister laugh echoes through the room, and when your eyes lock with Law's, fear and alarm are evident in his gaze. You were right—it’s all connected to the strings.

The entire chamber goes deadly still, and then, instantly, you’re lifted into the air. Your legs flail, searching for something to land on. You hit the ground with a slide, landing on your feet, followed by Luffy and the woman. Law remains seated on the throne, which comes to a halt a few feet away, tossing him sideways onto the ground.

A stone pillar juts up from the floor, but before you can process where it came from, Doflamingo’s voice cuts through your thoughts.

“That was a surprise.”

Luffy gasps before you do, but you’re too stunned to move.

“The whole country’s in chaos now that the toys are free.”

Toys? The word sends a jolt through you, and memories of the clown from when you were shopping for disguises flicker in your mind. You gape in shock as the realisation hits—it was a toy, not just a figment of your imagination.

“Tragic, really. I was having fun.”

You squint at Doflamingo’s body, the tendrils of string emerging from the base of his neck.

Doflamingo’s head lets out a heavy sigh, a look of mock contemplation crossing his face.

“Looks like I’ll have to use the Birdcage to get this under control.” His voice is smooth, almost casual.

Across the room, you hear a chair scrape against the floor, followed by the frantic sound of chains rattling. Law’s body thrashes against the restraints holding him in place. His eyes are wide with panic, his breath coming in short, keen gasps.

“No! You can’t!” His voice cracks, raw and desperate.

Doflamingo’s eyes flick over to him, his expression unreadable as he raises a brow. "Oh? You seem concerned, Law. You remember, don't you?"

Law’s chest heaves as he glares at the man before him, his usually composed demeanour wholly shattered.

"You would subject innocents to this?" His voice is filled with disgust, and his tone’s an apparent tremor—a mix of dread and revulsion.

Doflamingo’s lips curl into a cruel smile.

“Nobody is truly innocent.” His tone is flat, devoid of empathy, as if he'd long abandoned any notion of moral boundaries. The words hang in the air, chilling in their certainty.

Law's face contorts with frustration. “You’re wrong,” He spits, the words thick with disdain. "Innocence isn't something you can just take from people, Doflamingo."

Before Doflamingo can respond, a figure steps forward from the shadows—the imposing gladiator, his muscles rippling beneath his armour. The man draws his sword fluidly, the blade gleaming in the sunlight. His face is set in a grim, determined expression.

“Enough!” the gladiator bellows, his voice booming with authority. Without hesitation, he leaps from his position, sword raised high as if preparing to charge. The tension in the air is thick enough to cut with a knife, the room brimming with the sense that everything is about to escalate into an uproar.

You watch the scene unfold, heart pounding, as Doflamingo’s smirk deepens into something more sinister. Law’s struggle intensifies, his body twisting and writhing in his chair.

The tension is unbearable, the calm before the storm.

Doflamingo materialises behind the gladiator, fully intact—no longer the headless phantom he once was. You blink, heart racing, a wave of horror washing over you. The sheer force of his power is palpable, and for a moment, you wonder if you could pull off the same technique. The thought lingers, both terrifying and fascinating.

A low, menacing growl rumbles from Doflamingo’s throat as he steps forward, his leg swinging from the right with a devastating force.

“I’ll show you how to behead a man properly...” His words drip with malice, and before anyone can react, the room erupts into screams of terror. But just as Doflamingo’s leg is about to make contact, Luffy shoves the gladiator out of the way, sending him sprawling to the floor, and plants himself between you and Doflamingo. The world feels like it shifts around you. Sunlight bursts through the cracks in the building, dancing on your skin, and when you glance up, the sky seems impossibly vast, stretching above you.

Your mind struggles to process what just happened. There’s no way a single kick could have taken the roof off a building.

You push the thought aside, focusing instead on the fight before you. Amid the rubble and mayhem, you sprint toward Law.

"It's no use," Law says, his voice strained, his eyes filled with frustration and helplessness. "You can't touch it..." His words are heavy, laced with a deep sense of defeat, and there's a desperate plea behind them. "Please, just leave."

Your breath catches in your throat. His face, normally composed, is filled with an urgency you can’t ignore. But there’s no time for hesitation.

"Where's your katana?" You ask quickly.

Law shifts uncomfortably in his chair, his teeth gritting in pain. "Don’t know—please, just leave."

You ignore his pleas, your focus honing in on getting him free. You search desperately around the space, looking for anything to help cut through the chains. But before you can find anything, a scream cuts through the air, a distinct cry of panic that stops you dead in your tracks.

Instinctively, you turn, your gaze snapping to the scene unfolding before you. Your voice catches, but it escapes, barely pushing through the rawness of your throat.

"Luffy! There’s two!"

He looks up just in time to see two figures of Doflamingo descend upon him, one headless and the other fully intact. The sight is enough to make your blood run cold, but Luffy doesn't flinch. With a burst of speed, he rolls out of the way, narrowly avoiding the attack.

Seizing the brief moment of distraction, you face Law again, checking his condition. Your breath catches as your eyes fall on his abdomen.

“He shot you,” You gasp, your fingers trembling as they hover over the dried blood and bulletholes that mar his skin.

Law’s lips curl into a pained but rueful smile. “Three times.”

A billowing rage floods your chest, and your hands begin to shake, your anger threatening to overtake your thoughts. You clench your fists at your sides, barely holding back the venom in your voice.

“I’m gonna kill him,” You mutter, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.

Law’s gaze narrows, his voice low and calm but with a hard edge. “I will, for taking you away.”

You shake your head in disbelief, the intensity of the situation rendering an argument pointless. But before you can respond, an explosion of rock to your right makes you stumble, and you instinctively reach out for something to steady yourself.

A jagged spike from the shattered floor shoots upward, embedding itself into your calf. You cry out, the intense pain momentarily blinding you. It’s small, nothing you can’t handle—but just as you compose yourself, the ground beneath you shifts.

Once solid beneath your feet, the tiled floor begins to ripple, moving like water, sending waves of disorienting motion through the room. The world tilts as the ground you stand on seems alive, pulsating with someone’s power.

Your heart pounds. This is bad. Too bad. And it’s only going to get worse.

“I need to get you out of this,” You grit out, your jaw tight as you reach for Law’s forearm. The chair gives way beneath you, and apprehension sweeps through you. In one swift motion, you extend your hand, desperate to free him from the chains that bind him to the throne.

Threads of power shoot forward, wrapping tightly around the chains, constricting them. The tension in the air is suffocating, but your focus is razor-sharp as you glance toward Luffy and Doflamingo. They’re locked in combat, the two moving like a whirlwind of destruction, a brutal dance of fists and fury. You clench your hands, and the sound of metal ringing through the chaos is like a jolt to your senses.

With a sudden, determined jerk, Law breaks free, his body lurching forward despite the weakening effects of the sea prism stone. He stumbles against you, and you wrap your arms around him, supporting him the best you can. But the ground beneath your feet begins to shift again, the floor undulating like the surface of water, and you brace yourself as the room shakes violently.

Before you can fully react, the palace tilts. Gravity pulls at you both, and with a sickening lurch, you tumble, dragged by the chaotic motion. The wind slashes at your face like knives, the world a blur of spinning rock and dust.

You grip Law tighter, but his weight is too much. He’s slipping. You can feel it—his body going limp in your arms, the lack of strength in his limbs a grim reminder of the toll the sea prism stone has taken on him.

I can't carry him, you think, not like this, not without help.

Desperation surges through you as you fight against the pull of the mountain, your hands shaking as you try to keep him upright.

Luffy yells above you, his body flying toward you. The gladiator’s sword flashes as he falls past you, and the realisation hits immediately. The tiles beneath you give way, and you scream as you drop toward the ground. Law yells something, but his words are drowned out by the rush of wind in your ears before he slips. You watch with horror as Law plummets ahead of you, a strangled cry leaving your throat.

Just as you’re about to crash into the solid ground, Luffy expands, and you land with a jolt on his stomach. It happens so quickly that you can barely process it, but you're grateful for the soft landing. You groan as you sit up, tears streaking down your cheeks and adrenaline blurring your vision. No one speaks—no mention of Luffy’s ability or that you all nearly fell to your death. Instead, everyone’s gaze is fixed upward, staring at the sky in stunned silence.

You don't care what Doflamingo is doing now. All that matters is getting to Law. You crawl over to him, and his eyes flick over you with a curt intensity, his gaze locking on the gash in your leg—a deep, jagged cut from the pointed rock that had impaled your calf.

“I can stitch it up,” You murmur, your hands trembling slightly as you cup his face. It’s not the most reassuring of statements, but it's the best you can offer now.

His frown deepens, his brows furrowing in that way you know all too well. The silver of his eyes flickers with concern, even as his tone remains steady, though laced with frustration. “It’ll get infected if you don’t clean it out first—”

“Law,” You cut him off, your laugh breathy and strained. You don’t have the energy for an entire conversation right now.

Luffy groans beneath you, his body deflating like a balloon, and you roll off him, helping Law to his feet with a quick but careful movement.

Law blinks at you, his breath catching as he stands on shaky legs. “It’s starting.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, and you follow his gaze, dread pooling in your stomach.

Above you, the sky begins to twist.

Strings.

Hundreds of them, thin as silk, fan out in every direction, their glowing ends weaving together at a central point directly overhead. The air grows thick and heavy with the impending doom, and the calm summer day is suddenly replaced by a storm cloud gathering ominously above you. It’s as if the Gods themselves are bracing for what’s coming.

That’s the Birdcage.

“Traffy!” Luffy yells suddenly, his voice full of urgency and confusion as he runs toward you, his eyes wild. “What’s the Birdcage? What does it mean?”

Law’s eyes widen with something you’ve only seen a handful of times in the two years you’ve been with him. The last time was when you were shot on Hachinosu when poison coursed through your veins and left you unconscious for eight days. He displays such uncharacteristic, raw emotion that your heart skips a beat, suddenly gripped by the weight of what it could mean.

“It means he’s going to kill everyone in Dressrosa.”

You swallow hard, words failing you for a moment. The Birdcage isn’t just a cage; it’s a trap.

The group gasps, the woman whimpering as she looks at the gladiator. They exchange a quiet, wordless conversation, and you avert your gaze, giving them space. Luffy, however, locks his eyes on Law, his lip curling in frustration.

He opens his mouth to speak, but you suddenly feel a tug along your spine. It’s subtle like someone gently testing the tension.

Law immediately senses your discomfort. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s still got me,” You whisper, and from the way Law’s jaw tightens, he understands precisely what you mean. “Luffy, where’s that key?”

“Uh…” Luffy pats his clothes, scanning the ground. “I gave it to you.”

You freeze, trepidation rising in your throat. “Shit, I must’ve dropped it.”

Law curses under his breath, pulling at his restraints in vain. It’s no use.

Suddenly, your body jerks and you instinctively reach behind you to grab the string. Your name rings out from the mountain, Doflamingo’s voice echoing like a twisted melody. He sings it, dripping with cruel, sadistic pleasure.

Your feet leave the ground, but you fight against the pull, driving a needle into the earth to anchor yourself. Law’s gaze is wild, his eyes locked on Doflamingo as he toys with you.

“We have to go!” The woman yells, nearly tripping as she starts to run. The deafening crack of stone makes you flinch, and a massive shadow looms overhead, casting its dark presence over you and the country below.

“I’m not leaving,” Law growls, his voice steady with resolve. “You guys go ahead.”

You watch as the gladiator and Luffy hesitate, their eyes wide, bulging with shock at the sight above you.

Law gives you a stern look, but you urgently shake your head. "Law, go."

"Like hell."

He throws your words back at you, and you clench your jaw in frustration. "Law—"

Doflamingo roars again; his voice laced with a deadly promise. The venom and wrath in his tone send a chill down your spine as he urges you to stop resisting the pull of the string. You’re yanked forward, a puppet under his command, but you manage to attach a thread to the ground, pulling yourself back toward Law.

“Trafalgar, go.”

He ignores your command, his voice laced with defiance. "No."

You yelp as it feels like your spine is being torn from your body. Doflamingo’s rage pulses down the string, and you shove Law away, desperate to protect him.

"Go!" You plead, your voice shaky, almost desperate. "Go with them, please!"

Law’s brow furrows, confusion and concern flickering across his face as he meets your frantic gaze. "No! I’m not leaving you here!"

You grab hold of the fabric of his coat, your hands shaking, fingers digging into the material as if you could hold onto him forever.

"You have to!" Your voice cracks with the effort it takes for you to say it. "If Doflamingo gets to you again, if he kills you—if I lose you, I—" The words catch in your throat.

Law's eyes soften for a split second, but then his voice comes out strained, raw, like he's trying to hold it together, too.

"No... No way in hell I'm leaving you," His gaze shifts away, and when it comes back to you, there's a flicker of something deeper in his eyes—determination laced with acceptance. He knows you can handle yourself. You hadn’t been training with him for two years for nothing.

"You better not fucking die," He spits out, his voice thick with emotion. "You have to come back to me. You hear me?"

Your heart twists painfully, and you pull him closer, your forehead pressing against his. The warmth of his skin against yours is the only thing that feels real right now.

"I’ll never not come back to you," You whisper fiercely, your words a vow, a promise etched into every fibre of your being. "You have my word."

For a moment, neither of you speak. The chaos around you fades into the background as you hold each other, the storm raging inside your chest more painful than anything the outside world could throw at you.

“Hurry up!” the gladiator yells, his voice pulling you away from Law, snapping you back to the destruction around you.

Luffy takes a step forward but freezes when your eyes meet. His eyes are full of concern, something you rarely see in the gaze of someone so carefree. You offer him a smile, though it's shaky.

"I’ll be fine, Luffy," You reassure him, the words slipping out with more confidence than you feel.

"But we just got you back!" Luffy protests, his voice tight with panic. "I’m not letting him lay another finger on you!"

You swallow hard, fighting to keep your tears in check. "I’ll be okay. I’ll see you soon, alright?"

Luffy’s eyes narrow, his face a mask of determination, but you can see the storm brewing underneath. He doesn’t want to let go.

You meet his gaze, steadying your breath. "Please, Luffy. We can’t fight him right now."

Luffy huffs, frustration flickering across his face, but after a long beat, he nods once, his jaw set. "See you soon."

You turn back to Law, your heart heavy. A lump forms in your throat, and you blink rapidly, trying to clear the tears threatening to spill.

"I’ll see you soon, too, okay?" You whisper, but it’s barely audible.

"I love you," Law mutters, his voice hoarse, his chest rising and falling as he breathes raggedly. The words are heavy like he’s trying to say everything at once, and it hits you harder than expected. You push him gently toward Luffy, your hands trembling.

"I love you," You repeat, your voice breaking. "Now, go!"

Luffy catches him quickly, his strong arms wrapping around Law’s body like a vice. With one last glance at you, Luffy carries him away, moving swiftly, but you’re left standing there, your heart in your throat.

The tears you’ve held back finally break free, but you can’t look away. You won’t look away.

Your body is yanked upward when you release the thread, your limbs hanging limply as you cry. You watch Luffy run off with Law, wishing you were anywhere but here—somewhere safe, warm, surrounded by everyone you love. The desire for peace, for something ordinary, washes over you. But you were born to be a pirate, and your cries cease.

You stay with Doflamingo, not because you want to, but because he seems to know more about you than you do yourself—and that’s something you can’t allow.

— Scene 2 —

You’re sick with trepidation. Night has fallen, and the strings of Doflamingo’s Birdcage glitter under the full moon. He sits across from you, stabbing his fork into the medium-rare steak on the plate before him. You decided to forego dinner, feeling far too queasy to stomach anything.

“When’d you eat the Sew-Sew Fruit?”

You control your breathing, calming yourself from both anger and fear. “When I was seven.”

Doflamingo’s eyebrow arches, and he bites the steak off his fork, the metal scraping his teeth. “And you still haven’t awakened your true power?”

Curiosity outweighs caution. “No.”

He hums. “Would you like me to teach you?”

Your muscles tense under your skin, and your heart rate increases so rapidly that you can hear the roar of your blood in your ears.

“Our abilities are intertwined, you see,” Doflamingo says when you take too long to answer. “But your power is unlike anything on this planet. Have you heard of the legends they call Dreamweavers?”

Your head shake is slight, and he takes it as a sign to continue. The clink of his metal fork on the ceramic plate jolts you from your thoughts, and you breathe deeply as he prepares his speech.

“Devil Fruits embody humanity’s evolutionary potential, with each power representing a distinct path for the future. Born from humanity's collective hope and ambition, they are a tangible manifestation of what we could become.”

You recall hearing this story in your grandfather’s library as a child, though you’d long forgotten it since his death. Devil Fruits had been one of his greatest passions, something he obsessed over. When he finally acquired one, he gave it to you, his most prized possession. It had been his life's single greatest achievement, and he entrusted it to you, asking you to eat and wield it. You smile softly at the memory.

“There were three original rulers at the dawn of time: The Dreamer, The Monarch, and The Reaper. One to blend dreams with reality, one to rule over the seas, and one to govern life and death. That’s how they lived. That’s how they thrived.”

It strikes you as strange that Doflamingo speaks so openly, with no venom or mockery. You don’t know much about his past, but somehow, you get the sense that if he’d been raised in an environment devoid of cruelty and ambition, he might’ve been a very different person—a far more pleasant one.

“Following?” He asks, his dinner now forgotten on his plate. The sight of untouched food causes a flare of irritation in your stomach. Sanji would have a fit if he saw this.

You nod, rolling your shoulders and propping your chin in your palm, trying to seem casual about his strange demeanour.

“Nobody knows what happened during the Void Century, but it’s been theorised that a revolt, now known as the Celestial Dragons or the World Nobles, overthrew the Big Three, rendering the world a hopeless, war-torn hell hole.”

The upset and surprise are evident on your face, but Doflamingo pays no mind—you know he revels in the misfortune of others. There’s a nagging piece of information about the World Nobles that Law told you about Doflamingo that you struggle to remember.

“The Dreamers were beheaded, their ideals and prophecies branded as blasphemy and forbidden. The Monarchs were slaughtered, their weapons far less advanced than the Celestial Dragons. The Reapers were sentenced to eternity underground, where even the brightest light couldn’t penetrate. It was a fate worse than death.

“From their deaths, the Devil Fruits were born. The people of the four seas, lost and enslaved, clung to the ideals they inherited—the ones foretold by The Dreamers. The hatred for the World Nobles and the hope that their reign would one day end fueled the creation of the Fruits. This very defiance gave them life, allowing humanity to fight back.”

“What’s this got to do with me?” You ask, your throat dry.

Doflamingo smirks and lifts his head from where it leans on his palm. “You’re a Dreamer.”

You scoff, pushing yourself halfway out of the chair. “You’re delusional. You just said they all died out.”

Before you can fully rise, strings shoot out from his fingers, wrapping around your wrists like chains. They yank you back into the seat with an unyielding force, pinning you to the chair.

“You don’t get it,” Doflamingo says, his voice low and cold, as if explaining something obvious. “Your Devil Fruit is the direct descendant of a Dreamer. The Sew-Sew Fruit was created as a way to continue the practice of weaving reality with fantasy or dreams. You defy the Celestial Dragons every second you’re alive.”

Then it hits you what Law said about the World Nobles: how the Donquixote family were considered Celestial Dragons, and then they lost their privileges when Doflamingo’s father wished for a normal life… Your lip curls, the bitterness rising like acid in your throat.

“And you want to use me for what? Some kind of revenge plot?”

Doflamingo’s smirk shifts, dark satisfaction shining in his eyes as if amused by your defiance. “You’re a smart one. Law doesn’t deserve someone like you—someone so far beyond his reach.”

The words hit you harder than you’d like to admit. You swallow thickly, your heart heavy in your chest. "When you said I could be a god..."

The thought lingers between you, and you can see the twisted mirth in Doflamingo's eyes like he's savouring the moment. “You could be more than a god. You could reshape the world, bend it to your will.”

A chill runs down your spine.

“You can control the minds and thoughts of everyone across the four seas,” Doflamingo continues, his voice dripping with malice. “You can create entire false realities that people will live in as though they’re true. Weaving dreams into the fabric of reality—it's what your Devil Fruit was made for. You’re the last of the Dreamers.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, but you take a moment to steady yourself. Who’s to say whether or not he’s telling the truth? Doflamingo is a master manipulator, a liar who thrives on controlling others. This could easily be another of his twisted games—getting you to unlock your power only so he can use it for his own ends.

But then, Law’s face flashes in your mind. The way he spoke on Punk Hazard, his words were heavy with something you didn’t fully understand then. “I’ve heard of legends with the same name.”

That strange surge of power stirs inside you again, stronger now, urging you to act. You yank your wrists free from the chair, the strings Doflamingo had bound you with snapping quickly under the force of your will. His smirk deepens, watching you with a mixture of pleasure and dark anticipation.

As you stand, the chair screeches against the tiles, its sound jarring in the room's silence.

“Leaving so soon?” Doflamingo taunts, leaning back with a lazy air like he’s entirely in control. “You’re going to take all that juicy information I gave you and not even thank me?” He lets his tongue flick out, brushing the gap in his grin, his amusement evident.

You tense, your hands curling into fists, and despite the disorganisation of your thoughts, something inside you cements. He’s not going to win this.

“I’m not killing Celestial Dragons for you. I won’t let you hone me into your personal weapon just because you told me some fairytale.”

Doflamingo tilts his head, his grin morphing into something far more sinister. The veins in his forehead pulse, a telltale sign of his growing frustration.

"Why would I go through all this trouble to bring you here and then lie to you?" He sneers, his voice low and chilling. "You're special. I'm trying to help you."

You narrow your eyes, unfazed by his theatrics.

"And what about your power?" You retort. "You use strings to control others."

"That's where we're different," He says, a hint of satisfaction in his voice at your question. "I control people with my strings, but your power creates entire mindscapes, places where people live—spanning across the four seas. Your ability doesn’t drain you; mine does. You were made to weave dreams into reality, to rule the world. You're more powerful than you realise, and even I don’t fully understand the extent of it. The Dreamers kept much of their knowledge hidden."

"I don’t want to rule the world," You say firmly.

"Yet," Doflamingo mutters, his voice dripping with condescension.

You shake your head, unwavering. "I don’t."

His expression darkens. "You're selfish. Ungrateful. Do you know how many lives you could save with your power?"

"Save?" You let out a sharp, humourless laugh. "You don’t want to save anyone. You only dream of a world where you hold all the strings, where death and destruction are the price for your sick version of control."

His face hardens momentarily, but without missing a beat, his scowl fades into a twisted grin. "Yeah, you're right."

You crash into the wall, the impact force stealing the breath from your lungs. Doflamingo approaches, his fingers curling and weaving in the air with a sinister grace. Your mind struggles to process what's happening, still disoriented from the surprise of his power coiling around you and pulling you backward.

“If you’re not going to cooperate, I’ll have to force you. Do you want that?”

You grit your teeth, and your jaw hurts with how hard you tense. “Fuck you.”

“That’s all you seem to say to me,” He chuckles darkly, leaning his face close to yours. Doflamingo is so close you can see the strings moving under his pores. “But I need you to work with me here. I need to destroy the Celestial Dragons.”

“Not gonna happen,” You spit before stabbing him between the shoulder blades with a needle. Doflamingo keels over, and you take the opportunity to get away from the wall. Blood swells from the puncture and drips down the feathers of his pink coat.

"Bitch," He mutters under his breath. You gasp for air, sprinting toward the door, but the wood splinters into chunks before you can reach it. Skidding to a halt, you whip around, only to find Doflamingo’s clawed hand pointed directly at you. “Strings.”

Turning your focus inward, you activate your Observation Haki. Time seems to stretch as five metallic strings streak toward your torso. You pivot to the left, narrowly avoiding the attack. Each time you dodge, another string is sent flying in your direction. You can’t waste energy fighting him head-on—not when you know you’ll lose.

“Fight back,” Doflamingo growls, his frustration growing with every evasive move you make. He closes the distance between you, his attacks becoming more rapid and precise. You wince as a string slices across your shoulder, but you force yourself to keep moving.

The palace begins to shake. At first, you don’t understand why, but then it becomes clear—Doflamingo is the cause. He bares his teeth at you, pausing his assault for a moment, and that’s when you feel it—tendrils of string weaving into your mind. Without hesitation, you rip them out with Seam Ripper, a technique you mastered a year ago when a pirate with the Persuasion-Persuasion Fruit attacked the Polar Tang.

“Fight me!”

You glare at him, your hands clenched at your sides. "Why? So you can taste my power and figure out how to control me?"

He shrugs nonchalantly, the movement stiff thanks to the needle lodged in his back.

You pause, taking a breath, considering your next move. A manic smirk slowly pulls at the corners of your lips. “What do you say, Doflamingo? Ready to have some fun?”

He chuckles lowly, his twisted grin mirroring yours. “Finally, a worthy opponent.”

Your eyebrow arches, and you fling your arm out. Threads, woven into a tight rope, whip out to sweep Doflamingo off his feet, but just as quickly, his own ropes send you flying to the side.

You sniffle, a thought flashing through your mind—maybe your abilities are more intertwined than you realise.

“Bullet String.”

The pellets ricochet off the needle you wield like a sword. Your movements are fluid and precise—if someone from the outside were watching, they’d mistake you for a swordswoman. You silently thank Zoro for drilling the motions into you over the years.

You press forward, matching his attack with your own. “Darts.”

The battle rages on, both of you exchanging strikes, dodging, weaving, and countering with perfect synchronicity. It's a standoff—an even match.

You gulp down a breath, your lungs burning as you round a corner of the palace, the fight spilling out of the chamber when Doflamingo reveals his Excess String Whip.

Your head hurts with the stamina you’ve used, and you feel the effects of not using Seam in your hands. With a definitive, fragmented sigh and a burning urgency to end this and get back to Law, you position yourself in the hallway, waiting for Doflamingo to close the distance. Blood slides down the side of your face, and you wipe it away with your shoulder, smearing it along your skin.

“You can’t hide,” A sing-song, ragged voice taunts. “I will defeat you, Dreamweaver.”

You bite your lip, his words only spurring you on. “We’ll see about that.”

Without waiting to face him, you summon Seam.

Your body aches when he enters, his pure, unadulterated power already clawing at the walls of your mindscape. You scream as you collapse to the floor, your hands squeezing the sides of your head.

There’s a faraway crash, but you ignore it to concentrate on keeping Doflamingo’s soul inside you.

Your name cuts through the foggy pain reverberating in your skull. You strain your eyes, trying to bring the figures in front of you into focus, but they remain distorted, shadows dancing just out of reach. You think you're screaming—an agonising, blood-curdling scream that forces the two figures back, hands clutching their ears in desperation. Tears pour from your closed eyes, and blood streams from your ears; the white-hot power of the man’s soul inside you wreaks havoc.

A touch comes, someone trying to lift you from the floor, but they recoil instantly, your skin burning too hot to bear.

Your throat is raw, searing with every breath, but you know it’s time. And with a final, desperate breath, you enter Seam.

— Scene 3 —

It’s eerily quiet when you appear, the world around you a vast stillness, interrupted only by the crash of distant waves. The air is thick with salt, stinging your nose, but you push it aside. Doflamingo sits some distance away, his fingers threading through the blades of grass, lost in his thoughts.

You don’t move to attack him, instead standing behind him, watching. The chirp of birds passes overhead, their flight a gentle reminder of something once familiar, something that hurts to remember.

“Is this your mindscape?” He asks, his voice slicing through the silence.

“Yes,” You respond, your tone cool.

The feeling here differs from the usual pull of Seam, but you can't tell if it's unsettling or calming. Seeing Doflamingo, a monster who now taints your thoughts and memories, sitting so casually in your mind makes your stomach churn. The images of what he’s done to Law, Dressrosa, and the other nameless people who now live in his shadow burn you with disgust.

Law’s words echo in your mind but do nothing to quell the hate rising within you. The emotions collide—hate, revulsion, and a quiet, simmering fury. The mix churns beneath your skin as you study the man before you, wondering how much further you'll have to go to make him pay.

In the end, you’re seething, each breath coming faster and harder. “You deserve everything that’s coming for you.”

Doflamingo doesn’t even bother to turn around, but you can hear the smirk in his voice. “So you can see the future?”

You step forward, the words barbed. “No, not the future. Just what I’m going to do to you.”

Before Doflamingo can move, you focus on the back of his head, your mind swirling with something ancient and unwelcome. The words slip from your lips like an instinct, more felt than thought, the word slipping free before you can stop it.

"Eyelet."

You’ve never ventured into someone else’s mind before—not like this. You’ve only ever existed within Seam, a realm born of your own memories. But this—this is different. Doflamingo’s consciousness feels like a cold, jagged thing, cruel and suffocating, and the skin on your body prickles under its intensity.

Your senses flare as you absorb the full force of what you’ve unleashed. This power is vast, far darker than anything you’ve touched before. It feels like a shadow of something you’ve long forgotten, something that the voices once whispered to you about, teaching you to wield it with cautious reverence. But now? It feels like part of you—a second skin that fits in ways you hadn’t imagined until now.

Indifferent, you remain still, allowing the new, raw power to wash over you.

“She’s awakened.”

“The Dreamweaver has returned.”

“Welcome, young one. We’ve been expecting you.”

Feminine voices surround you, their whispers caressing you like a soft breeze, warm and gentle. A smile tugs at your lips as you feel their presence, and slowly, you open your eyes.

You find yourself standing in the ruins of a house, its decay a reflection of the destruction within. The bed is a mess, drenched in unspeakable filth, and the air is thick with the stench of rot and hopelessness. Every instinct screams at you to flee, but fear paralyses you, making it impossible to breathe freely.

In the corner, a small boy curls up, his face buried in his knees as he sobs in agony. Though his features are familiar, resembling Doflamingo in a way that twists your stomach, you know, deep in your bones, that this is not him. There is something pure about how he cries—innocent in a way Doflamingo never was.

Without warning, the door crashes open, and another figure enters. This one, unmistakably Doflamingo, strides into the room with the same arrogance you’ve come to associate with him, even at his current age. His glasses gleam in the dim light, and his presence fills the room with a suffocating sense of authority.

“Get up!” He commands, his voice harsh, the words dripping with disdain as they land on the boy. Your heart clenches when you realise that the child on the floor is none other than Corazon, his face streaked with tears and his hair matted to his forehead. The contrast between the two is striking, and the moment's violence weighs heavily on you.

Doflamingo’s following words are chilling. “Stop crying, he deserved it.” His voice cracks like the snap of a whip, and the cruelty in it hangs in the air.

Still shaken, Corazon lifts his head, his face red from emotion and pain. His voice is quiet but full of desperation. “But why?”

The eldest Donquixote child scoffs, stomping towards him with the same disdain he carries now, a gun dangling carelessly in his small, trembling hands.

The scene before you fades, its bitter hatred dissolving into the ether. This isn't the memory you need.

Another materialises in its place—a young child wearing the same patterned hat Law always wears. He looks up at Doflamingo, and your breath catches in your throat. You can’t bear to watch this.

Just a boy, Trafalgar Law stands there with a fierce scowl, hurling his small body against the towering man’s legs. Around his waist are dozens of grenades, each one wrapped in a dull khaki green. "Let me in!"

Doflamingo scoffs, his gangly form looming over the child. "Not a chance, brat. Get lost."

Law’s face morphs into something unreadable, and before you can process it, the door slams in his face. He stands frozen, staring at the wooden panel, his heart sinking at the stark reality—he’s unwanted, unwelcome. Alone.

He stumbles away, fighting back the tears, as he trudges down the grimy stairwell into the waste processing plant, swallowed by despair.

At that moment, the hatred you feel for Doflamingo crystallises into something darker and more dangerous. You lift your arm, your movement fluid, and a new memory plays before you. A cruel satisfaction fills you as you make your choice, knowing this is the memory that will hurt Doflamingo more deeply than any before it.

His soul thrashes violently within the confines of Seam, shaking the very core of your being. Doflamingo’s Haki-infused strings press against your mind, sharp as daggers, their relentless pressure threatening to tear through the walls of your consciousness.

The same voices you heard earlier whisper to you again, guiding you with soft, melodic tones, their words like a balm to the chaos swirling within you. They gently walk you through extracting the memory from Doflamingo’s mind, showing you how to pull it into reality.

“Who are you?” You ask, your voice tight with anxiety and your stomach churning with unease. You hesitate, your hands shaking as you halt the process, the air heavy with the question.

“We are the Dreamers of time past. You are our descendant, chosen to consume the Sew-Sew Fruit and restore balance alongside The Monarchs and The Reapers. You are the saviour of this world.”

Your throat tightens as you struggle to swallow the lump forming there. “But I don’t want to rule.”

“There is no need to wish for power,” they reply, their voices soft and understanding. “You are one of us—someone who hopes for the best for others and desires nothing for herself. We bear no ill will toward you for not seeking dominion. But time is of the essence. You must hurry the extraction; the man you harbour within you is far too dangerous.”

A screeching, hollow sound echoes in your mind when they depart, but you ignore it, focusing on your task. With a swift motion, you pull yourself free from his mind. As you return to Seam, Doflamingo’s pale face stares back at you, his eyes wide and full of disbelief.

“What did you just do?” His voice is laced with fear and fury, but it doesn’t rattle you like it once would have. Beneath his arrogant mask, you see him for what he really is—a boy given too much power too soon, thrust into a world that demanded cruelty over compassion.

You don’t pity him. But you do feel a deep, sorrowful sadness. When you look into Doflamingo’s eyes, hidden behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses, you don’t see a man but a child—one who was placed on a pedestal and taught to wield power for destruction, surrounded by people who saw weakness as something to be stamped out, never nurtured. He’s a product of a broken system, raised to carry on the twisted legacy of the Celestial Dragons. Whether it’s tragic that he failed is irrelevant—you’re not here to play Gods.

With a deep sigh, you leave Seam, taking his soul with you.

Doflamingo’s body jerks as he’s violently pulled back into himself. He gasps, his anger flaring as he shoots you a venomous glare. “You little—”

Before he can finish, the words slip from your mouth without thinking. You don’t know where they came from nor what they fully mean, but they feel natural. They feel right.

“Binding and Stitch.”

Your mindscape bleeds into the material world, the scene seamlessly overlapping with the palace hallway. Doflamingo blinks, his confusion turning to dawning realisation as he senses the shift behind him.

His mouth opens and closes as his eyes fall on the fire, the brick wall, the deep crimson stains of blood, and the iron shackles—memories he tried so hard to bury. “No…”

Doflamingo’s voice falters as the raw, jagged edge of the memory snaps shut, locking it into the space around him. The scene solidifies. It’s a frighteningly beautiful thing, and the power thrumming through you makes your skin hum with exhilaration. There’s a gnawing hunger for more.

“Pin.”

With a keen snap, Doflamingo vanishes from the ground and reappears, pinned high against the wall. His curses echo in the air, his iron shackles rattling, but you don’t flinch.

The voices of the women in your ears sing praises, urging you to unleash more, to continue the assault. But you remain unmoved, standing still as Doflamingo’s defiance and rage bounce harmlessly off your calm, unyielding focus.

As expected, the shackles shatter almost immediately, and Doflamingo’s hand shoots out in a blur of savagery.

“How dare you?” He spits, his voice seething with venom. Razor-sharp strings whistle through the air, their edges a hair’s breadth from your neck. The memory replays in the room, the screams of children flooding your senses, and dizziness pulls you into its dance. Blood pricks your skin like ice, and you shut your eyes tight, trying to block it out. “You think this is funny, huh?”

“Binding and Stitch,” You murmur, the words laced with raw power. White-hot energy lashes out, searing the skin of your neck as the cords of Doflamingo’s strings tighten.

The world tilts, and your vision blurs as a fierce white flash erupts behind your eyes. Another memory erupts, pulling you deeper into its grip. The room is heavy with dread and bitter resentment, the fading embers of an inflated superiority complex thickening the air with suffocating smoke. The ground beneath you trembles, the polished tiles warping into grimy cobblestones, shifting with the tremors of a long-forgotten trauma.

“Father! What are they doing?”

Doflamingo freezes, his face draining of colour. His lips press into a thin, tense line as his gaze shifts quickly to the right.

“Stay calm,” Donquixote Homing orders, his voice laced with apprehension. “Take Rosinante and lock yourselves in the house. Quickly.”

“But, Father—”

“World Noble scum!”

A rock, the size of a man’s fist, hurtles through the air, striking the child and sending him sprawling to the ground. Donquixote Doflamingo pushes himself up on his elbows, a steady stream of bright red blood spilling from his temple. Another stone slams into the cobblestones beside him, followed by another. Then, a shower of pebbles and larger rocks pelt a father and his son, rendering their pride irreparable.

“You deserve to die!”

“I heard they live on top of the hill! Burn it!”

Flames lick the palace's ceiling, and Doflamingo’s grip around your neck loosens.

“They’re burning down the mansion!”

“I hope they’re still inside!”

The Donquixote family stumbles down the steps of their burning house, the wood cracking and metal warping as the flames consume everything behind them. A woman with an intricate braid, the strands of her hair barely holding together, presses a small boy tightly to her chest. Donquixote Rosinante clings to his mother’s shirt with desperate strength, as if his very survival depends on it—and perhaps it does. His eyes are swollen and red, his face streaked with the remnants of tears and sheer terror. The eldest Donquixote son hides his emotions beneath a mask of silence, his heart stewing with profound and unsettling darkness, honing it into a weapon he will eventually unleash on the world. His young mind processes the entropy around him in ways no child should.

“Stop…”

"Interfacing." You move like a shadow, spinning a labyrinth of thread. The sheets you create stretch as tall as the ceiling, as wide as the walls, as strong as the thickest metal in all four seas—an inescapable barrier.

You sprint down the hallway, heart pounding. You only have a little time. Doflamingo won’t stay contained for long. Soon, he’ll be hunting you again, relentlessly.

A door slams open ahead, and you duck to the side just as figures rush from the stairwell, pausing for a split second before giving chase. You push yourself harder, dodging and weaving through the narrow corridors. Every corner blurs into the next, every hallway the same, and the sound of footsteps pounding behind you grows louder closer. You throw attacks desperately to slow them down—prompt, precise strikes, but there’s no time to stay and fight.

Hey! Stop!”

You flinch as a bullet zips past your ear, its shrill whistle still ringing in your head. Instinctively, you activate your Observation Haki to anticipate the next shot.

But you’re interrupted when you sense a Devil Fruit user nearby, their presence suffocating.

The overwhelming force of their power presses in on you like you’re being crushed under an invisible hand. You strain to pinpoint their location, but they’re everywhere. In the walls. The floor. The very air around you.

“Pica.”

Though the name rings a bell, it's faint, barely a whisper in the back of your mind. The face of the person who said it is a blur, but you recall a massive, terrifying figure breaking through the ground in the chamber where Doflamingo held Law captive.

You piece it together—like your own, it’s a Paramecia-type Devil Fruit. You sift through your knowledge of Devil Fruits and their weaknesses. The two years with Law were spent training and learning about the many different fruits, some useful and some deadly. The knowledge is proving more valuable than ever.

Suddenly, the cobblestones beneath you begin to crack and give way. Before you can react, the ground collapses beneath your feet, and you’re falling, only barely managing to catch yourself on the level below.

You scan the area, relieved to see the people following you remain unaffected by the Devil Fruit user’s power; it gives you the edge you need to make your escape.

Ahead, double doors swing open to reveal a balcony. You push through them, skidding to a halt, when you catch sight of the drop. The wind howls in your face, stinging your skin as you squint to get a better look. Below, the city sprawls far beneath you. The palace perches precariously on a jagged rock, its foundations slanted at an unnatural angle as if defying gravity itself.

Your heart drops when you spot the Birdcage. Its metallic threads are shrinking like a noose around the island. You watch in horror as buildings are sliced to pieces, their shattered remains falling to the streets below. Citizens scream in fright, some crushed, others mutilated by the unrelenting power. The carnage is just beginning—only the outermost areas are being affected for now.

Doflamingo must have finally escaped the maze of threads. And now, the island is in turmoil.

With little hesitation, fueled by a surge of courage, you wrap a thread around your waist, leaving just enough slack for a rope to slip through. Your eyes dart nervously down the hallway, ensuring no one is watching as you toss another strand over the edge, letting it drop as far as it will go. Carefully, you thread the end of the long strand through the web of threads at your waist, securing it to a needle.

Climbing over the railing with shaky hands, you crouch down and stab the floor with the needle, imbuing all the Armament Haki you can into it to keep it stable. The stone cracks with the force, and when you wiggle it, it stays in place.

You don’t dare look back at the sheer drop behind you, the nerves tightening your chest, making it hard to focus. But the thought of Doflamingo catching you in such a vulnerable position is enough to propel you forward. Without hesitation, you push off the edge of the balcony.

Coating your hands with Haki, the purple sheen shimmering under the full moon’s light, you descend the long thread. The wind dies down, and you’re left with only the sound of your breath and the city below. With each slow movement, the pain of distant screams grows louder and harsher, as though the suffering in the streets is chasing you down.

The palace groans, a deep rumble vibrating through the thread. Your grip tightens, but the adrenaline dulls the anxiety that would usually freeze you in place. The sounds of shouts and breaking glass rise from the palace as it starts to collapse. You focus on the thread beneath your feet, inching closer to the ground, and when your feet finally hit the street, a violent tremor shakes the rock beneath you.

You pull away from the thread and sever it from your waist. You need to find someone who can help you. You need to see Luffy and Law.

— Scene 4 —

Civilians scatter around you, frantic cries and desperate prayers filling the air. You don’t know how long you’ve been running, each step a blur. The only thought consuming you is the desperate need to find Law and Luffy.

But you’re distracted; the screams around you only focus on a colossal man destroying the city. You finally choose to look, and when you do, your heart skips a beat when you see the figure clearly—a massive stone giant attacking the skies as if trying to catch something—or someone. Squinting, you spot the figure attacking back— a swordsman, three blades flashing in the moonlight as he cleaves the stone into chunks.

A gasp escapes your lips, and you sprint toward the battle, cutting through the sea of panicked people gathering in the centre of the Birdcage. Some try to push you back, telling you you're going the wrong way, but you shove them off without breaking stride.

Zoro moves with the precision and power of a force of nature, his every motion fluid and controlled. His black blades slice through the stone like paper, each strike sending debris flying. There’s no hesitation, no wasted effort—just raw, unrelenting precision. With every swing, the ground trembles, and the air ripples from the force of his speed. The once-solid stone crumbles beneath him, a testament to his honed skill and dedication.

You watch in awe, a swell of pride rising in your chest. This is the result of two years of gruelling training. Zoro’s mastery is on full display, and you can’t help but feel emotional when you see how far he’s come.

"Zoro!" You shout, your voice cutting through the turmoil. A lump forms in your throat, but you push it down, your heart swelling with pride. Your friend has grown beyond what you thought possible, and it fills you with both awe and a tinge of nostalgia.

As you push through the crowd, the chaos seems to slow, but Zoro remains focused, every movement an extension of his purpose. Despite the destruction around him, you catch a slight smirk tugging at his lips, a flicker of mirth in his eyes as they meet yours.

“I’ll be a sec, just have to drop this guy,”

The words catch you off guard momentarily, and a tiny laugh bubbles in your throat despite the dread. Only Zoro could be fighting a stone giant and still manage to make time for a cocky joke.

But there’s no time to lose. Luffy and Law need you.

And, as if he’s read your mind, a piercing scream echoes through the night, abruptly cut off. Zoro lands atop the rubble, sheathing his swords with a fluid motion before he makes his way down to you. You can tell by how he walks, his smirk practically a permanent fixture, that he’s pleased with himself.

“Did you see that?”

You raise an eyebrow, clearly amused by his cockiness. “I did. Enjoy yourself?”

Zoro chuckles, shrugging with a grin. “Psh, of course I did. You know me.”

You roll your eyes, the smile fading as you nudge him to walk with you. "Have you seen Luffy?"

"Yeah, he's at the palace on the hill. With Law."

You halt in your tracks. “They are?”

Zoro nods, scratching the side of his head. “They should be.”

You glance at the crumbling lookout beside you, the rocks threatening to give way at any moment. It looks like the perfect vantage point.

"Get me up there."

Zoro raises an eyebrow, his expression doubtful as he follows your gaze. "Right now?"

"Yes, now!" You snap, urgency thick in your voice.

“Damn, okay.”

Zoro crouches and wraps his arm around your legs, effortlessly hoisting you over his shoulder.

"Zoro!"

"This is faster, alright? Relax, I won’t drop you. I swear you guys have no faith in me."

You grip the back of his suit jacket, feeling the fabric wrinkle under your fingers as he springs back onto the stone man’s remains. He then nimbly leaps to the jagged rocks of the lookout. As he climbs, your mind drifts back to the events at the palace.

There had been two people when you sent Doflamingo into Seam, but then they were gone. The hands on you had felt familiar, comforting even—but then they disappeared, and that was the last thing you remember before infiltrating Doflamingo’s mind.

“Quit thinking so hard; you’re giving me a headache.”

“Sorry,” You mumble, lifting your head to study the palace in the distance. If Luffy and Law were there when you trapped Doflamingo in Interfacing, how furious would he be to find them roaming his castle without care?

“I need to get back to the palace.”

Zoro pulls himself over the lookout's edge, gently setting you down on the grass.

“You’re not making any sense,” Zoro sighs, his brow furrowing. “You just escaped. Why the hell would you wanna go back?”

“If Luffy and Law are in trouble, I—”

Your name echoes through the air, and you turn to see Usopp standing there, sweating, with his oversized slingshot gripped tightly in his hands. “What are you doing here? Violet said you were fighting Doflamingo.”

Usopp glances back toward the woman you saw earlier, the one you left behind when you parted ways with Law. She’s standing still, her eyes wide and filled with fear as they lock onto you.

“Usopp,” You gasp, your breath coming out in shaky bursts. “What are you doing up here?”

Violet’s voice breaks in before Usopp can answer, her tone tinged with desperation. “Luffy and Law are in danger. Sugar’s closing in on them.”

“Sugar?” You ask, confusion mixing with the rising alarm.

Usopp nods. “She looks like a little girl, but she’s not. She’s actually—”

“How are they in danger?” You cut him off, your heart pounding in your throat.

“Sugar is the one who turns people into toys,” Violet explains quickly, her words like cold water splashing over you.

The gravity of her words hit you, and everything seems to freeze for a moment. A wave of panic floods through your veins, and your heart races uncontrollably.

“If she turns you into a toy,” Usopp adds quietly, his voice heavy with dread. “Everyone you know forgets you—until she’s taken out.”

The realisation slams into you, and you can barely catch your breath. “I have to get over there.”

You’re not about to be launched by Usopp’s slingshot, but you can’t waste any more time.

“Just get the guy to throw you there,” Zoro mutters, sounding like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “That’s how he got me onto that rock guy.”

Usopp gives him a flat look, clearly unimpressed. “We’re not launching her through the sky, Zoro.”

You hesitate momentarily, and the idea starts to take shape in your mind.

"That doesn't sound half bad," You say, already weighing the possibility. "Where is he?"

Usopp blinks at you, his face frozen in disbelief. "You two are out of your minds."

Zoro grins, leaning over the edge of the lookout, scanning the area like it’s a casual day out. “He should be around here somewhere...”

"God Usopp!" A civilian's voice suddenly shouts, causing you to jump. You turn, startled, and see a crowd of people behind you. "Come with us, and we'll make it as painless as possible!"

"Why are they so angry?" You ask, brows furrowed.

"Did you hear the bounties?" Zoro mutters with a hint of amusement in his voice.

You shake your head, confused. "What bounties?"

Usopp whimpers next to you, eager to avoid further conversation about it.

Violet gasps before Zoro can explain, her voice trembling with fear as she recounts what she witnessed. You can’t help but be impressed by her ability, and Usopp fills in the gaps, telling you that she has clairvoyant powers.

“She’s getting closer! Usopp, get ready to fire!”

Usopp fumbles with his slingshot, his hands unsteady as he slides the bottom of the handle under his foot. He pulls the elastic back as far as it will go, then carefully loads a large ball, nearly the size of his head, into the leather pouch.

Zoro perches on the ledge as he searches for the man, his feet swinging dangerously close to the drop below. You swallow thickly, your throat tightening as the reality of the situation sinks in. Usopp's shot has to be perfect—if he’s even a millimetre off, Luffy and Law will vanish from everyone’s memory, lost to the curse of forgetting.

Usopp trembles, his body shuddering with the weight of the pressure. The steady drip of sweat mingles with the rapid beat of his heart; each drop is a reminder of just how high the stakes are. His breath comes in shallow gasps, and he wipes his forehead only for more to replenish it, the tension building with every passing second. Every movement feels too loud, too heavy as if the world itself is holding its breath, waiting for him to make the shot.

You hold your breath, the tension thick in the air, your pulse drumming in your ears as you wait for the moment to unfold. But time seems to stretch, and the climax never comes.

“Usopp,” You whisper, your voice soft but firm enough to cut through the silence and bring his attention back to the task. “Slow your mind. I can hear your thoughts from over here.”

He doesn’t respond verbally but nods, his fingers loosening slightly on the slingshot as he adjusts his stance.

“Hurry!” Violet squeals, her voice high with anxiety as she covers her eyes with one hand, unwilling to watch what could be the final moment of reckoning. “I can’t watch!”

Usopp, however, remains focused. His expression hardens, and the resolve in his eyes returns with full force. He takes a deep, steadying breath and, with a swift motion, lines up the slingshot again. His gaze sharpens as he aligns it perfectly, focusing on the left-bottom pane of a window in the distant palace. The world around him blurs as he enters the zone—calm, centred, and ready to make the shot that could change everything.

And then, everything seems to slow.

Usopp pulls the rubber band back just a fraction further, his eyes never leaving the target. He takes one final, steady breath before releasing it. The slingshot snaps, sending the plant ball flying through the air, cutting through the silence of the lookout.

Everyone watches, holding their breath as the ball hurtles toward the window. It’s too far to see exactly where it lands, but the tension in the air is palpable.

And then, a loud cry breaks the stillness.

“I-It hit! It actually hit!” Violet screams, her voice trembling with joy, her hands shooting up to her face in disbelief. Tears stream down her cheeks as she laughs, overwhelmed with emotion. “It worked! Oh my God, it worked! Sugar is down!”

Her voice rings across the lookout, and you can't help but smile at her relief and joy. The tightness in your chest lessens just a little as the reality of Usopp’s success sinks in.

But even amid relief, trepidation clings to you like a leech. The looming dread always shadows the joy of victory. If one of Doflamingo’s executives is down, he’ll be livid—and the consequences of that rage could be catastrophic.

"Zoro, where's this guy?" You ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

Zoro’s eyes scan the area, his gaze flicking over the crowd.

"There!" He points, his finger stabbing through the air. "That guy, the one with the weird hair and the huge jacket."

You follow his gaze, narrowing your eyes to spot the figure amongst the crowds of people. It’s like a countdown now—every second matters. “Thank you.”

Usopp’s voice calls out behind you, laced with concern, but you don’t slow down. The wind catches the edges of your thread as you descend the cliff, the rush of air filling your ears. With a thud, your feet hit the rocky ground, and you’re off, heart pounding as you dart towards the man. His massive frame cuts through the crowd like a towering figure, and you catch up to him in no time.

"Hey!" You call out, skipping the pleasantries. "You're the one who tossed the green-haired guy onto that rock, right?"

The man turns, his expression shifting to irritation. “Yeah? What’s it to you?”

You don’t waste time. “Think you could throw me toward the palace?”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly not expecting the request. For a moment, there’s a flicker of disbelief in his eyes as he assesses you—your determination and the desperation leaking through your tone. The air feels thick with tension. He looks you up and down as if trying to gauge whether you're out of your mind or if there's something more to it.

“You want me to throw you?” His voice holds a mocking edge, but something is calculating in how he studies you. “Like I did that green-haired guy?”

You step closer, adrenaline pumping through your veins. You can almost feel the pulse of time slipping away. “Yes.”

His gaze flicks to the horizon, then back at you, a reluctant sigh escaping him. “Fine. You better make it count.”

He steps forward, closing the distance, and you can see the glint of something fierce in his eyes. “You get one shot at this. If you fall short... well, that’s on you. Don’t come crying to me.”

You nod; relief is evident on your face. With a grunt, he positions himself, his muscles tensing. His hands find their place around your waist, and you barely have time to brace yourself before—

With a swift motion, he launches you into the air, and for a fleeting moment, you feel weightless.

The wind rushes past you as the world blurs below. You barely have time to process it all when the palace looms ahead, much closer than anticipated. And as you hurtle toward it, all you can think about is how you’ll kill Doflamingo.

The palace looms closer, towering above the landscape like a jagged mountain of stone and marble. You can see the windows gleaming like cold eyes, watching you as you fly toward them. The sounds of the battle reach your ears: distant shouts, the crackle of energy, the rumble of disarray.

The ground rushes up too quickly, and dread claws at your chest. You adjust your body midair, instinctively tucking your knees beneath you to brace for the impact. There’s no time to think about using threads to break your fall—you’re a Straw Hat, after all… logic is only a sometimes thing.

Without thinking, your body hardens with Armament Haki, and you hit the ground with a sickening thud that shakes your bones and rattles your teeth. The shock of the landing sends a burst of pain through your legs, but it’s nothing you can’t push through. Your body rebounds from the impact, rolling quickly to absorb the force. Your Haki melts away, leaving you with the aftershock of landing.

Your palms scrape against the stone, ripping the skin of your palms as you scramble to your feet. You wince at the ache in your legs, but there's no time to slow down. Your vision clears, and you stand just a few meters from the entrance. You glance around quickly, assessing your surroundings. The area is eerily quiet, save for the distant sounds of battle. A deep rumble shakes the ground beneath you as something significant crashes far off in the distance—probably another of Doflamingo’s executives wreaking havoc.

You step forward, your feet steady despite the pain, and then another. You’re sure adrenaline plays a significant part in how you feel, and Law will no doubt scold you for your recklessness afterwards.

You spot a group of soldiers moving toward you from the side, weapons raised, and you instinctively draw in a breath, ready to spring into action.

But before you can move, a shadow falls across the courtyard, and you freeze.

It’s a figure—a familiar one—with a signature straw hat perched atop his head.

“Luffy!” You shout, relief flooding through you, but there’s no time to waste on catching your breath. You point toward the palace entrance, urgency creeping into your voice. “We gotta go.”

“You made it!” He exclaims, a grin spreading across his face. “Thought you’d never catch up!” He pulls you into a quick, tight hug.

“I’m fine,” You say, shoving him off with a smirk. “We don’t have time for this. Where’s Law?”

Luffy doesn’t hesitate, pointing toward the palace doors. “He’s inside. He’s been holding his own, but things are getting worse. Doflamingo’s up to something big.”

You nod, heart pounding. You don’t need to be told twice. The air inside feels heavy with the tension of a thousand possible outcomes, and you know that every moment you spend out here only increases the risk. But there’s no turning back now, not that you want to.

A voice calls from the darkness of the palace halls. “Over here!”

It’s Law, unmistakable even through the strain in his tone. His voice cuts through the madness like a beacon, and in that moment, you have a one-track mind. The weight of everything that’s happened—the battles, the separation, the endless dangers—melts away. You dart toward the sound, your heart hammering, emotion clogging your throat.

As you round the corner, you spot him. Law is standing there, leaning against the wall, bloodied but alive, his breathing shallow, and his expression pained but focused. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, everything else fades. There’s no madness. No fight. Just him and that familiar, steady look in his eyes that you’d thought you might never see again.

You can’t stop the rush of relief that powers through you. Without thinking, you sprint toward him, your feet pounding against the cold stone floor. When you’re close enough, you throw your arms around him in a fierce hug, the rush of love almost knocking the air out of both of you.

“Law…” You whisper, your voice hoarse. He's warm against you, his pulse beating steadily beneath your hands. Law hesitates briefly, surprised by the intensity of your hug, then wraps one arm around you, pulling you in just as tightly. His voice, rough but filled with that familiar edge, cracks the fragile silence.

“Took you long enough,” He mutters, though you can hear the relief in his voice despite the sarcasm.

You pull back slightly, looking up at him, breathless and with a shaky laugh.

“I had to get back here somehow,” Your fingers graze the cuts on his cheek, and you can see the faintest flicker of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

He gives you a keen, tired look, but there’s something almost tender in how he searches your face.

“You’re insane,” He says, his voice low but softening. “You shouldn’t have come back. You were free.”

“And leave you here alone? Never.” You can feel the heat of the battle around you, the urgency creeping back into your veins, but it doesn’t matter. Everything feels right for these moments with him in your arms.

“I gotta go,” Luffy interrupts. “Doflamingo is on a rampage.”

You furrow your eyebrows and open your mouth to ask him where he’s going when he runs out of the palace.

“We need to get to a rooftop near the middle of the Birdcage. Luffy and I have a plan.”

You nod and go to grab his hand when you freeze, your hand hovering in midair. The absence of his touch—of the weight of his hand—sends a shock through you, an emptiness settling in your chest. No, your mind screams as if in denial. This can’t be happening.

His left arm, the one you were trying to reach for, is gone. Still fresh and raw, the stump of it stares back at you. Your breath catches, and for a moment, you can’t do anything but stare at the empty space where his arm should be.

“...What?” He asks, his voice rough.

The space where his hand should be feels like a chasm. Your fingers brush against the blood-soaked fabric of his sleeve, but the emptiness where his hand would’ve been is a painful reminder of what’s been taken from him.

“I’m fine,” Law whispers, realising what you’re staring at. “I can fix it. We just need to get to a rooftop, and I’ll do it there.”

“Fine,” You sigh, knowing he’d brush it off. “Let’s go.”

— Scene 5 —

The battle rages below you, Luffy’s roar of fury echoing in the distance as he clashes with Doflamingo. The sky above the palace is alive with the storm of their fight, but there’s no time to linger. The tension within you tightens with each passing second. You know what’s at stake.

With your hand braced against his back, you lead Law toward the nearest edge of a building. The sounds of Luffy’s fight grow louder—the sickening crack of bone against flesh, the ferocious sound of rubber meeting the wind—but you can’t think about that now.

You survey the drop. Small ledges, scattered stones, and an open rooftop with a short drop—just enough for a quick jump. Law’s eyes narrow as he watches you study the distance. His breath quickens as he shifts his weight slightly, clearly reluctant but understanding.

"Don't—" He starts, but you’ve already decided.

When you inch closer to the ledge, Law grumbles something under his breath, a curse or two. The wind howls as you push off from the edge, feeling the weight of Law in your arms. Everything is suspended in time for a moment—the world beneath you shrinking and the rooftop ahead growing closer.

You land with a jarring thud, your legs reverberating with the second landing of the night. The rooftop is elevated, and you have a clear view of Luffy in the sky, his body larger than you’ve seen—a new technique?

As you carefully lower Law onto the cool stone, the wind whips around you, your hands trembling as you check him over. Your muscles ache, but you’re glad the journey to get here wasn’t that hard.

You’re both hidden from Doflamingo’s view, the sounds of Luffy’s battle clearer than before, but for a brief moment, it’s just you and Law—quiet and away from the mayhem of Dressrosa.

"Good?" You ask, looking at him with concern.

Law glances at you briefly, his silver eyes stark with focus, before looking back at the chaotic battle between Luffy and Doflamingo. He tugs his hat from his head, his hair sticking in all directions. You watch Luffy in his Gear Fourth form, his strikes thunderous, and wonder when he discovered that. A flicker of something crosses Law’s face — a mix of frustration and the ghost of a smirk.

“This should be fine.” His face remains impassive, but there’s a tightness in his jaw, a subtle flinch when he moves.

You watch as he expands Room, using Shambles to summon his arm. It’s odd to see Law handle his own limb like this.

You raise an eyebrow, giving him a sideways glance. “Do you want to reattach your arm? Or do you want me to?”

Your words hang in the air, though you can hear the slight edge of amusement laced within them. The situation, grim as it is, feels strangely familiar — him, injured and stubborn, not wanting to ask for help.

He pauses briefly, eyeing you with a hint of that usual deflection. "You’re not going to let me do it myself, are you?"

You smirk, inching closer to him. “I could let you try, but you might get your stitches tangled.”

Law snorts, a small, pained laugh escaping him despite himself. “My stitches are perfect.”

“Tell that to my torso,” You quip, remembering how often your stitches ripped when you first met him.

“That was your fault,” He rolls his eyes. “You don’t know how to sit still.”

“And you do?” You meet his eyes, an unspoken understanding between you. The situation is dire, and Law needs to use his power soon, so without hesitation, you summon Sew.

“Don’t move.”

Law doesn’t respond—but his half-smile, which barely tugs at his lips, is enough to settle your heart.

As you begin working, Law remains surprisingly quiet. The battle rages above; Luffy’s shouts and Doflamingo’s curses punctuate the tension. But for now, in this small moment amidst the chaos, the two of you sit in a rare silence, the past few days of turmoil and bloodshed settling into something almost calm.

You make quick work of the sutures, conjuring a gauze from Sew when they are finished.

“Done,” You say, your voice a little breathless, as if sewing him together has taken more out of you than you care to admit. You secure the end of the gauze before leaning down and pressing your lips to his shoulder.

Law flexes his fingers, testing the strength of the arm. His usual mask of cool indifference slips just a little, and, just for you, a smile plays at his lips.

“You sure you’re not going to be a little more gentle next time?” He teases, his voice still raspy from the strain of the fight earlier.

You laugh, though it’s a little breathless. “Maybe I’ll take it easy next time,” You say, lightly brushing over his arm's now-healed skin, lingering there for a moment longer than necessary.

Law speaks again, voice softer than before. “I never thought I’d be in a situation where I’d allow someone to put me back together again.”

You glance up, locking eyes with him.

“You don’t need to do everything alone, you know.” You whisper. “That’s why I went with you to Punk Hazard despite your relentless arguing.”

“I didn’t want you to be in danger. I can’t handle it.”

His gaze shifts away for a moment as if the vulnerability of his words unsettles him. The admission catches you off guard. But then, that’s always been his way—never one to show weakness, yet here he is, allowing himself a glimpse of it. The vulnerability behind the facade is just for you.

You close the distance between you instantly, your hands reaching his chest.

“I know,” You say softly, your heart swelling at the raw honesty in his eyes. “But I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

His hands find your waist, pulling you close. His fingers tighten ever so slightly as if ensuring himself that you’re here.

“You better not,” He mutters, his voice thick with emotion.

“I’m not leaving you,” You say, your voice firm. It’s in moments like this, when everything else goes silent, that you know for certain: no matter what happens or the dangers that await, you’re not letting him go.

His forehead rests against yours, and you close your eyes, the weight of his breath mingling with yours. The world outside could burn, and you'd still feel this—this unshakable connection between you two.

“You know,” Law says, his voice low, but there's a playful edge. “I don’t need you to save me.”

You let out a breathless laugh, the sound a little too close to a sigh of relief.

“I’m not saving you. I’m just making sure you don’t bleed out on me,” You tease, but there’s no mistaking the tenderness behind the words.

“I could’ve done it myself,” He mutters, brushing his lips against your forehead before pulling back slightly, his gaze darkening as he meets your eyes.

You raise an eyebrow, aware of the subtle change in his tone.

“What, now you're going to fight me about how much I love you?” You laugh, though you know the real fight is just starting. This brief moment of peace is fleeting.

“Always,” Law replies, and you don’t need him to say more. His actions have always spoken louder than words ever could. “Because I love you more, sweetheart.”

And just as you roll your eyes and go to answer, there’s a voice.

“Law?”

Violet and a pink-haired girl emerge from the darkness, their expressions tainted with fear.

“Here,” He mumbles. “Is Luffy almost done?”

“We’ve got two minutes.”

But now, Luffy’s struggling—his body pushed beyond its limits, his Fourth Gear faltering. He won’t last much longer.

And then, as if on cue, he collapses. The look in his eyes as he stumbles back, bloodied and exhausted, makes something snap inside you. The night rages on, the Birdcage encapsulating only a mere kilometre of Dressrosa.

"No..." You mutter under your breath. You’ve seen Luffy take hits before, but this time, it’s different. The familiar power he had just moments ago is slipping away, and Doflamingo is already closing in, that smug grin plastered across his face.

Your eyes narrow as you look up at the sky, your gaze zeroing in on his body.

Law tugs you into him, his breathing rapid and his voice low. “You have to kill him.”

You blink, your eyes wide. “What?”

“Luffy’s down; he’ll be out for ten minutes. We don't have that much time.”

“But you—”

“I can’t. My stamina’s run out, my power’s useless,” Law says quickly. “It has to be you.”

“Law…”

“Please,” He begs. “For me, for Cora.”

You frown, tears welling as you nod. “Okay.”

Rising on shaky legs, you take a deep breath.

“Doflamingo!” You shout, your voice slicing through the air. He turns toward you slowly, amusement curling his lips.

“Oh? And what do you think you can do, Dreamweaver?” His voice is condescending as if he already knows the answer. “You can’t possibly think you’re going to stop me. You’re weak!”

His strings whip through the air, targeting you, aiming to pierce, constrict, and control. But this time, you don’t dodge; you don’t need to. The power inside you surges, something ancient and primal awakened by the desperation coursing through your veins.

Your hands snap to life, fingers moving with purpose as you channel your power.

The strings Doflamingo sends toward you come in slow motion as your mind takes over. You flick your wrist, and the threads appear mid-air, their shimmering lines of power intertwining with the strings Doflamingo controls. Your threads, woven from sheer will, latch onto his, effortlessly pulling them apart.

“What the—?!” Doflamingo snarls as his strings begin to unravel, sliced through by your own, snapping under the force of your mastery. Once awakened, it feels like there’s no limit to your power.

Law, Violet, and the girl you’ve come to know as Rebecca gasp, their surprise a welcome sound.

The battlefield quiets momentarily as Doflamingo is forced to retreat, confusion flickering in his eyes. You can feel his shock; he wasn’t expecting you to be able to manipulate his strings. You’re not just fighting him now; you’re bending the very laws that govern his power—just like he said you could, but you don’t think he thought it possible.

You’re done letting him control innocent people and drink their grief as he pleases. This isn’t about survival anymore—it’s about protecting your crew, your friends, your family. With one last look at Law, you nod.

The pressure of the moment weighs heavily on your shoulders, the culmination of years of pain, battles fought, and lives lost. His life, in particular, comes into sharp focus—Corazon.

You never met him, only catching fleeting glimpses of his face through Doflamingo’s twisted memories, but his legacy reverberates in every part of Law’s soul. The boy who had once been a scared, isolated orphan, consumed by the need for vengeance, has grown into one of the most extraordinary men you’ve ever known.

You think back to that first meeting. The awkwardness and confusion. Law had been so guarded, so closed off. He didn’t trust you. You weren’t sure why you felt compelled to help him at that time—perhaps because you saw something in him that was so familiar: a pain that mirrored your own—a loneliness. You were away from the Straw Hats, unaware they were alive, and felt utterly useless.

Now, standing in the eye of the storm, with Doflamingo finally glaring down at you with a scathing hatred, you understand the truth. Corazon had never wanted anything for himself. The way he saved Law from Doflamingo’s cruelty, even when his own life hung in the balance… It was a gift that could never be repaid.

And now you were going to avenge him.

Law’s Adam’s apple bobs, and he nods once back, recognising the fire in your eyes. The moment is fleeting, and you step onto the rooftop's ledge.

“Go get Luffy,” You say, Violet and Rebecca hurrying off the roof to retrieve your captain. You roll your head, cracking your neck as you breathe out.

You pull the threads together with a single, fluid movement, weaving them into a perfect net of power. It’s not just about cutting or controlling anymore; you can reshape and rebuild. And you can feel Doflamingo’s control over Dressrosa slipping with each string severed.

"You’re brave," He laughs. "I’ll have fun with you.”

You don't answer. You don't need to. With a single thought, you twist his strings, feeling the connections snap and pop under your command. His stance falters, just for a moment, but it's enough. You seize the opportunity, sending your threads into his body, sinking deep into his flesh, pulling him toward you with an almost sickening precision. His body jerks as he tries to resist, but the more he struggles, the more your threads tighten around him, squeezing, constricting, making him fight against his own body.

The Sew-Sew Fruit isn't just about control; it's about creation. And you're about to reshape the battlefield itself.

With a brutal yank, you rip the strings of his power from his body, using them against him. The tension in the air becomes palpable as Doflamingo's strength turns on him, his movements jerking in unnatural directions. He roars in anger, but you're not listening anymore. You're focused, the world shrinking to the space between you and him, where you will make the final strike.

A flurry of movement, a desperate swing of his hand, and you dodge just in time, the strings grazing past your cheek. You respond with a sharp movement of your own—your hands flashing through the air as you manipulate the threads around him, tying his limbs together, pulling his body into an intricate web that he can't escape. His attempts to break free are fruitless; your threads are everywhere now, pulling and twisting him into submission.

"Stop!" Doflamingo howls, his voice strained and desperate. But the sound of his frustration only spurs you on.

“You think you’re the only one who can control strings?” You sneer, your hand outstretched as you weave more threads into the air. They dance in the sky, intricate braids of thread coming together to sing a song of destruction.

Doflamingo’s face twists in anger, but his eyes show an undeniable hint of fear. This is not the kind of power he expected from you. His usual smugness falters, replaced by a growing sense of unease.

“I’m the one who made you like this!” He spits, trying once more to tap into his power. “If I didn’t tell you the truth of your power, you’d be dead!”

You pull tighter, weaving the threads through his joints, making him bend to your will, contorting him into painful positions. His skin tears where your threads dig in, the blood staining the light pink of his coat. But you're relentless. The control you have over his body now is unadulterated. The ground beneath you vibrates, a low hum running through your body as you extend your reach.

His eyes flash with panic as he realises he is now a marionette, and you're the one pulling the strings.

Needles fly toward him, overlapping and creating a network. Doflamingo is surrounded by a metal cage, the gaps closing with every second that passes. He gasps for breath, but it’s futile. The reality you’ve woven around him is his prison, and now he can only watch as his defeat unfolds.

You don't give him the satisfaction of a response. Instead, you gather every ounce of energy left in you, and with a final, swift motion, you break the threads. The sickening sound of his body, his soul, being torn apart echoes in your ears as your power rips through him, pulling his strings free from his body like a shattered puppet.

Needles clatter to the street below, and his soul screams before tapering off with a whimper.

“You’re done,” You whisper with finality and a deep sense of resolve.

And Doflamingo’s body falls to the earth, defeated.

— Scene 6 —

The first light of dawn creeps over the horizon, painting the sky with soft hues of pink and gold. It’s a slow, gentle rise—like the world waking up after a long, restless night. The ruins of Dressrosa, still scarred by the battle, bathe in the early light, casting long shadows that slowly fade into the warmth of the sun’s touch.

The oppressive weight of victory slowly begins to lift from your chest, replaced by a quiet reverence. The Birdcage retracts, the strings pulling up from the ground and disappearing when they meet in the middle of the sky. As the dust settles, the tension in the air gives way to something deeper, something far more personal.

“Luffy,” You gasp, turning around and making a beeline for his exhausted body. His face is smeared with dirt, his body bruised, but that light in his eyes, the unshakable spark of life—that hasn’t changed.

His grin spreads even wider as if seeing you standing there, alive, is the greatest victory of all. But when he sees the look on your face—something softer, something raw—his expression falters just a little. His voice, always full of energy, carries that familiar comfort.

"You alright? I knew you'd pull through. You’re tougher than you look!"

You walk toward him, your chest tight, your throat thick with emotion. You open your mouth to speak, but no words come at first. How do you convey the years of struggle, the battles fought together, the times when it felt like everything was falling apart, and yet you never gave up because he was there, always believing in you, in all of you?

Luffy doesn’t push you to speak. He just watches with that patient, understanding look in his eyes. He knows you’ve been through something heavy. He knows the weight of a captain’s responsibility, the loss of friends, and the pain of living a life filled with blood and betrayal.

You kneel before him. His wide eyes blink in surprise, the usual bravado of his face softening. The words are stuck, but then, something inside you breaks. You feel it—the flood of gratitude, of relief, of everything he’s done for you, for all of you. The way he’s always believed in you, even when you couldn’t believe in yourself. The way his stupid, unwavering faith pulled you back from the edge time and time again.

"I don’t know how to say it,” You say, smiling through tears. “I can’t… But thank you. For everything."

Luffy’s expression softens, a rare vulnerability creeping into his eyes. The words might be simple, but they carry significance. You can see it in how his shoulders relax, and his chest rises with a deep breath. He opens his mouth, but instead of some teasing remark, it’s something much quieter, much more real.

"Don’t say that. You don’t need to thank me. It’s just... it's what I do. You’re my friend.”

You feel something swell in your chest, a quiet release, like all the tension you’d carried for so long, just melts away in those words. The bond between a captain and their crew is unshakable.

“You did most of the work,” You laugh, moving the hair from his face. “I just finished him off.”

Luffy’s laugh bursts from him, loud and unrestrained, as if he’s just heard the funniest thing in the world. The same carefree, reckless sound has always been a beacon of hope and unshakable confidence, even in the darkest times. He throws his head back, his arms flailing in the air as his laugh echoes across the ruins of Dressrosa.

“You’re really something, you know that?" He grins. The weight of reality doesn’t seem to reach him, not when he’s laughing like this.

You shrug helplessly, a laugh leaving your lips. Luffy’s laugh—it’s infectious. It makes the whole world feel just a little bit lighter. And in this moment, despite the scars and bruises, bloodshed and loss, it’s as if his laughter proves that everything you’ve been through was worth it.

“Are you okay?” You ask, noticing the exhaustion painting his demeanour. He nods, but then his eyes roll to the back of his head, and snores erupt from the deepest parts of his chest.

You stand, your gaze meeting Violet and Rebecca, and you thank them for caring for your captain.

Law’s eyes lock with yours across the rooftop, and it’s as if time slows—the world around you blurs into nothingness, and in that single, suspended moment, all the pain, the loss, the suffering fades into the background. Only the two of you exist in this space, your hearts racing to meet one another.

He doesn’t say anything at first. He doesn’t need to. The relief is in how his shoulders ease, the faintest flicker of emotion crossing his usually stoic face.

"...You did it."

His voice is quiet, but there's weight in the words—more than just acknowledgment, it’s gratitude, it's understanding. It's the recognition of everything he’s sacrificed, everything you've fought for. He steps forward; the movement is almost tentative, unsure whether to close the distance or give you space. His gaze never leaves you like he’s making sure you're there, standing after all the carnage.

Law is in shock at the extent of your power, but he holds off on asking about it when you take a step toward him and then another. Before you know it, you’re close enough to feel the heat of his body, to breathe in the scent of him—the faint trace of salt from the sea, the worn material of his coat, the familiar scent that’s somehow always anchored you. Without a word, your hands find him, and it feels like a release.

You reach out and wrap your arms around him. His body tenses for just a heartbeat, and his arms encircle you in return. It’s not a gentle embrace; it's raw, urgent like a drowning man grabbing hold of something solid. His fingers press into your back as if to remind himself that you’re real, that you’ve made it through this hell.

"I never realised how... far you could take your power,” Law muses. “You awakened, didn’t you?”

You watch him momentarily, letting his words settle, and nod. Law isn’t the type to be easily impressed. He’s been surrounded by people with powerful abilities his whole life, seen every form of strength and technique. And yet, here he is—staring at you like you’re something new, something beyond even his experience.

You glance down at the threads suspended in the air between you, your hands still tingling with the power you’ve just unleashed. For a second, you wonder if he’s afraid of it, the sheer weight of what you can do, and the responsibility that comes with it. After all, not everyone can control such power without losing themselves.

"No. Not a curse,” He shakes his head, his lips pursed. “I’m... I’m just trying to wrap my head around it. This is bigger than I thought. But I trust you. I always have."

His words don’t surprise you. Law has been your biggest supporter for two years; always one to improve your techniques rather than shy away from them. But the way he says it—quietly but with complete certainty—it’s like he’s acknowledging the full depth of you, not just the person you were, but the person you are now—the strength you’ve built and the raw power underneath your skin.

“We make a good team," You smile, tucking stray hairs behind his ears.

Law licks his lips, his eyes piercing in the dawn sun when he leans in. He captures you in a searing, dizzying kiss that sends you reeling. He pours everything he can into it, using his injured arm to draw you closer. Law doesn’t care that Luffy’s there or that Violet and Rebecca giggle behind you; all that matters is you.

“Hey! Guys!”

You pull away from the kiss, the taste of Law still lingering on your lips as you catch your breath, your heart racing from both the intensity of the moment and the joy that surged through you just a moment ago. His hand still lingers in the space between you, but you break free, playful mischief dancing in your eyes.

Law’s gaze flickers with something between amusement and frustration, his fingers still reaching for you as you step back a few paces, a grin tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“Hey, don't just run off like that."

You laugh, a teasing sound that makes his brows tug together, his lips curving downward in that way he gets when he’s trying to act annoyed, but the small tilt of his head and the gleam in his eyes betray him. He doesn’t mind the chase, especially not when it ends with you.

You glance over at the street below, where half of the crew is waving up at you, their bodies worn and tired from the night's battles. They’re standing in a disorganised, ragged line, but each wears that unmistakable, heartwarming smile despite their exhaustion. Zoro, ever the stoic, looks a bit more dishevelled than usual, but there's a flicker of something in his eyes—relief, pride, maybe even a hint of amusement as he watches you.

“Are you all okay?" Your voice calls down to them, and they all respond with bored yeses, like they’ve been waiting for you to acknowledge them, to pull you out of the moment with Law.

Zoro doesn’t answer, but you can tell he’s fine by the way his sword is casually slung over his shoulder, his stance relaxed despite the weariness in his eyes. A faint smile on his lips is too small to be noticed at first, but it’s there.

You take a deep breath, feeling a mix of relief and concern. The battle was brutal, and seeing your friends here, battered but smiling, brings warmth to your chest. You step closer to the rooftop's edge, gripping the stone and leaning out just enough to be closer to them.

“Are you sure? You all look like you’ve been through hell."

Franky throws both hands in the air, his signature mechanical arm extending dramatically. His grin is as wild as ever. "Franky’s super! I’m built to last, baby!"

He strikes a ridiculous pose, flexing his robotic muscles, and you can’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm, even after everything. His body’s covered in scratches and scuff marks, and there's a noticeable dent in his arm, but the energy radiating off him makes him seem fine.

Robin’s laughter rings out next, soft and knowing. She stands a bit behind the group, her eyes glinting with something more than just the weariness of battle. Her power unfurls from your shoulder to gently pat your hair, a comforting touch that feels almost like a reassurance. You lean into it instinctively, feeling the faint flutter of her tendrils against your scalp.

"We’re all alive, at least,” She says; her smile is quiet, but her voice has a deep sincerity.

"All thanks to captain Usopp!!" Usopp’s voice rings out from behind the others. He waves from where he’s leaning against a nearby building, a blinding smile on his face. He flexes his bicep, much like Franky, and laughs. Exhaustion is evident on his face, but there’s that ever-present glint of optimism in his eyes.

"Zoro?" Your voice rings through the silence.

His eyes flicker toward you for just a second before he smirks, that familiar, infuriating grin creeping across his face. "Tch, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me."

His voice is hoarse, and you catch the subtle strain in his tone, but you know better than to press him.

You laugh softly, shaking your head.

"You’re all impossible," You mutter under your breath, but there’s a fondness. Even with their bruises and injuries, they are alive, and that’s all that matters. You’ve all made it through yet another fight, another battle against overwhelming odds.

You turn back to Law, who’s still standing there watching you, his expression unreadable but his eyes softening with something more profound. He steps forward, his hand reaching out to you, a silent invitation. Without a second thought, you slide into his side, leaning into him. Your fingers brush his, intertwining with his as the two of you stand there, watching the crew. There’s a quiet understanding between you; Doflamingo has been defeated, and the crew’s safe, but there’s still a long road ahead.

A loud, enthusiastic yawn sounds from behind you. Rolling your eyes, you glance at Luffy, who stretches his arms high above his head as if he’s just had the most peaceful nap of his life. The moment he blinks open his eyes, he’s already grinning—like nothing could ever be wrong in the world. His laughter rings out, even though he’s barely even fully conscious.

"Mmm, I’m hungry! What’s for breakfast?"

Everyone groans, ignoring your captain as you figure out where to go from here.

“The Navy’s still here. I think they’re on to us.” The moment Robin’s words cut through the air, the lighthearted mood of the crew evaporates like smoke in the wind.

“We don’t have a ship,” Usopp says. “The others took the Sunny to Zou.”

“I can help!” A voice squeaks. You raise an eyebrow as the man steps fully into view, brushing dust and debris off his ragged clothes. He stands there, almost nervously, before raising a hand with a glint of determination in his eyes. “My ship can carry everyone and more!”

“Rooster Head!” Luffy exclaims, rising to his feet. The nickname makes you blink again, but it’s clear that Luffy knows him.

The man’s face lights up, recognition clicking in his eyes as he hears the name. You can practically hear the stars in his voice as he continues.

“Mister Luffy,” The guy cries. “I saw you fighting with Doflamingo. You are so incredible.”

Luffy laughs, jumping off the roof and landing on the street with a rubbery thud. “Nah, that was all her.”

You blink, caught off guard as his grin broadens, and he turns to you. There’s something in his eyes, something deep that makes your heart skip a beat.

“She’s the one you should be thanking.”

The green-haired man Luffy calls "Rooster Head" is staring at you with wide eyes now, his mouth hanging open like he’s just realised who you are.

“Incredible... this is perfect! I can’t believe it! I didn’t know I’d get to meet the hero of Dressrosa today!”

Luffy bursts into laughter, clearly delighted by the reaction.

“Oh,” You feel your cheeks warm. “I’m no hero.”

“So humble!” Rooster Head fawns. But as quickly as the starstruck glint in his eye comes, it disappears. He seems as though he almost forgot his initial reason for approaching. He starts to fidget a little, his hands moving as though he’s trying to figure out the best way to get to the point. “Oh! Right, right! I’ve got a ship nearby, a fast one. It’s perfect for getting away from the Navy.”

“Fast, huh?” Robin teases.

“Yeah, yeah! It’s small, nimble—should be able to get you all out of here before they even know what happened!” His eyes are sparkling like this is the moment he’s been waiting for his whole life. For a second, it almost feels surreal.

You look at Luffy, who’s grinning wider than ever. “See? I told you, everything works out! We’ll get out of here, no problem.”

You nod, a little smile pulling at the corners of your lips as you look back at the green-haired stranger. “Alright, let’s get moving then. Lead the way.”

Rooster Head nearly jumps out of his skin at your words, already turning on his heel to lead you to the ship. Luffy, as usual, follows in his wake, practically bouncing with enthusiasm.

Violet and Rebecca thank you and the crew for all your help; hugging each of you tightly. Their teary goodbye makes you feel guilty for leaving so abruptly, but you’re eager to see the rest of your crews—both of them.

Nami, Sanji, Brook, Chopper, Bepo, Shachi, Penguin, Ikkaku, and the rest of the Heart Pirates are on Zou.

Law’s steady presence beside you feels like a quiet reassurance as he helps you down from the rooftop. You glance at him, but he already knows what you're thinking.

“You ready?”

Nodding, you send a tired, easy smile as you reach for his hand with quiet certainty, your fingers brushing his as you clasp it. The gesture is simple, but it speaks volumes. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

As you both fall in step, you notice the Straw Hats already ahead of you, their movements light, laughter and chatter flowing easily between them.

You follow them for a few moments, and the distance between you and them does not feel far at all. It’s just a ten-minute walk to the port, a short journey to the ship Rooster Head had told you about. The air feels fresh after Doflamingo’s defeat, as if the world feels free from the grips of a man like him.

“Rooster Head said the ship’s fast, right?”

“That’s the plan.” His voice is almost dry, but there's an undercurrent of amusement like he’s already resigned to the inevitable chaos when the Straw Hats are involved.

As you watch your crewmates ahead, you chuckle softly, the tension easing out of your shoulders. The thought of the Straw Hats and Heart Pirates forming an alliance, even briefly, fills you with something close to fondness.

The ship comes into view, and you halt when you look at it. Law deflates beside you. It’s a strange, oddly shaped vessel painted with bright colours. The ship’s sails are adorned with a distinctive green and white colour scheme, and you can see the figure of a tall, spiky-haired man waving excitedly from the helm. The ship is unlike anything you’ve seen before—a testament to its captain's wild, fearless personality. The ship's exterior is covered in graffiti-like designs and emblems that pay homage to Luffy and his crew. Even the figurehead at the front is a massive, exaggerated bust of Luffy, grinning with unrestrained joy.

Luffy’s cheers echo through the air when he steps onto the ship, throwing his arms up. “This ship’s great, Bartolomeo! You really know how to pick ‘em!”

Bartolomeo, practically glowing with pride, stands a few feet behind him, his hands gripping the ship's edge as he watches Luffy with awe. His eyes shine with admiration, and it’s obvious how much this moment means to him. This ship—his ship—now has Luffy’s stamp of approval, and to him, it’s the greatest compliment in the world.

“Alright!” Luffy yells. “Set sail! To Zou!”

— Scene 7 —

As you sit on the bow of the ship, the sunsetting and half of your family partying behind you, there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. You once believed you were a fool for thinking Law helped you out of the goodness of his heart, but the journey through the labyrinth proved you wrong, and you’d do it over a million times if it meant you’d end up with him.

Whether you rejoin the Straw Hats or stay with Law and the Heart Pirates, you know both sides will be happy with your decision. Because love isn’t about being bound to just one world. It’s about finding the strength to exist in both. The Straw Hats and the Heart Pirates—they’re both your family. And with them, you know you’ll always be home.

You still have a lot to learn about your power, now awakened. If you're not careful, you think you might lose yourself to it—to the overwhelming pull of creation, the seductive promise of absolute control over memories, over fate, over the very essence of existence. At times, it’s hard to remember where you end and the world begins.

Something is lurking just beneath the surface—something that doesn’t make sense yet, a hidden potential waiting for you to unlock. You can feel it pushing at the edges of your mind, urging you to understand it and to delve deeper into the art of weaving the world itself into a tapestry of your design.

But you will learn. The power will be yours to command—on your terms. You will discover the true cost of weaving threads into the world’s fabric. And in the process, you’ll uncover a truth that only those who wield the Sew-Sew Fruit can recognise: You are the weaver, but you must never forget that some things cannot, should not, be sewn. And yet, the temptation to do so, to reshape everything, is always there. It’s just a matter of when you will choose to listen to the warnings or let the threads lead you down a path where only you can understand the full extent of your power.

And somewhere, deep within, you feel that perhaps this is only the beginning. The true test is yet to come.

With a final word count of 73,550 words, Labyrinth is my longest piece of writing to date, and I couldn't be more grateful to share it with you. Thank you so much for reading my fanfic in the first place; your kind comments and sheer excitement for this series warmed my heart so, so much. There may be more fics like this in the future, but for now, I will be sticking to reading them and finishing One Piece, haha! I love you all, and thank you for reading <3

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