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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 4 months ago

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Chapter 1: I Need You Now But I Don't Know You Yet

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!Reader, Reader POV

Summary: With a birthday printed on your wrist that happened over a hundred years ago, you always thought that you were cursed to never meet your soulmate. But when you finally meet the man that's supposed to be the other half of your soul, you wonder if the stars were wrong, and wonder how this man was meant for you. Reader is Hughie's sister, is not a supe, and is a Literature Professor that gets dragged into the middle of things. This fic takes place in an AU set loosely after Season 3 and does deviate from the plot of The Boys

Tropes: Soulmate AU, Little bit of Grumpy and Sunshine, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy, Jealous Ben/Soldier Boy

Warnings: Self deprecating thoughts, Little bit sad, Cursing, Mentions of drinking, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of Death, Loneliness, Longing, Basically the reader just wants to be loved, Reader wears glasses?, Soldier Boy might be a little OOC.

Word Count: 6.3K

Song Inspiration For Chapter: IDK You Yet (Title of chapter based on song) Y'all should listen to this song because it fits so well!

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue Is in First Person And Is In Italics

A/N: Guys you have no idea how excited I am about this story! It's already shaking up to have a TON of my usual angst, but I'm not surprised.😅 I'm also a little disappointed. I read a soulmate AU fic forever ago for Joel Miller where the birthday was printed on the reader's arm and I cannot for the life of me remember what it was called or find it. If y'all know what it is, please let me know. I'd love to read it again and give the writer a little bit of credit for inspiration. ❤️

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

January 24, 1919

The date on your right wrist haunted you, the bold black numbers mocking from the moment you learned what they meant. It had to be a celestial mistake, a misprint, something wrong in the stars that shone so brightly over others, but dulled above your head.

Sometimes you thought you were cursed, that some mystical being before your birth marked you, scarred you, and made you carry the weight of the whole world on your shoulders.

That whoever it was made you different on purpose and you hoped one day you understood what that purpose was.

You'd never met someone born with the same dilemma, to be saddled with a soulmate that was born over 100 years ago, and yet here you were.

You'd heard it all growing up, the hushed whispered "freak" from your schoolmates, the odd looks from your neighbors, the pitying frowns of your parents who had known each other since pre-k, and the hug from your older brother as he whispered the familiar phrase “it‘ll be okay" to soothe you.

But you always wondered…

When would it be okay?

You watched all your friends find their happy endings with their soulmates, the birth years printed on their wrists at least within the same few decades, but not you.

You were alone, different, cursed.

The date printed on your wrist made you different, because no one else had a soulmate that was born so far in the past.

Your soulmate's birthday brushed on your skin only brought a wave of disappointment every time you saw it, because what the hell did it mean? 1919? That meant that your soulmate would be over 100 years old when you met him, whoever it was.

If you even met him.

No one lives that long. My soulmate should be long dead. He can't still be alive. Can he?

Each year that passed was like another nail in the coffin, but you celebrated the birthday of your supposed soulmate with a cupcake and a beer, locked away in your apartment to shut out the jeers of those who knew your particular dilemma. And each year when you blew out the candle you wished that it would be the year you met him, but now you weren't sure it would ever happen.

Because it was impossible.

You didn't understand why you were different, why you were chosen to have a soulmate that was long dead. Maybe it was true, maybe you were born late, born under the wrong sign, or maybe you really were cursed.

You'd heard the stories of people who never found their soulmates, urban legends really, but it didn't make you feel any better. The stories of people who wasted away to nothing, driven to the point of insanity because they never found the other half of their soul, alone for as long as they could stand it before they finally crumbled to dust.

You refused to be like them, turning to books for solace and hoping to escape. Slipping into the pages and into other worlds where people found their other half to leave the loneliness that haunted you behind.

And in that solace your found your true love, literature. It wove around you and brought you peace in a world where you felt lost and different.

When you moved away from the small town you grew up in, you got a job as a Literature professor, reading the great works of others, while trying to forget about the date on your wrist and the soulmate you longed for each day.

It was incredibly lonely to think that you'd live your whole life with only one half of your soul.

Every time you opened a book from the era your soulmate was supposed to be born in you wondered if he had read it, wondered what it was like to live in that time, and imagined what it would have been like to be there with him.

Each day you covered up the date on your wrist with a splash of foundation and playfully laughed it off whenever someone asked you if you'd found your soulmate yet. All the while spending year after year fading just a little bit more as you lost the last pieces of hope that you'd ever meet him.

One Year Ago

You were running late. Frankly you were always running late, but in the city that never sleeps it was to be expected.

It was supposed to be a big day. You had about a hundred papers to grade, a test to proctor, and three lectures to give, but you couldn't complain about your job, you loved it. Loved the groans of your students whenever you announced a test or an essay, loved the soft evenings where you read papers with a cup of tea and learned what in the assigned text was special to your students, and loved to teach from the books that had become home to you, the books that tried to heal your wounded heart.

But today something was different.

Something nagged at the back of your mind, as if you had forgotten that something else was supposed to happen today.

Haircut? No that's not it.

You think as you walk to the large wooden desk in your living room/bedroom. It was technically a dining room table, breakfast table, and your desk, but you'd loved it since the moment you found it tucked into a corner of an antique store in Brooklyn.

Your small studio apartment was quaint, the bedroom and living room divided by a large mid-century wooden screen that you had bought for twenty bucks at a thrift store the weekend you moved into your apartment five years ago. The living room only housed a plump cream colored couch that faced out the window towards the living room window that gave you a spectacular view of the alley between your apartment building and the next. Sometimes you got to watch the couple in the apartment across from you having a terrific fight and then got a front row seat to the loud make-up sex they had almost immediately after.

Large stacks of books dominated every wall stretching up as high up to the ceiling as they could reach, some were pressed against the exposed brick walls, others serving as the base for the coffee table you’d made with a vintage window, and of course there was one stack that towered high above your bed on top of your bedside table. You didn't own a tv, not when you spent most of your time reading.

Being a English professor meant that you could never have too many books not when they were like old friends that pulled you in whenever you opened their yellowing pages.

Meeting with the head of the English department? You bite the inside of your cheek as you shove your notebook, planner, pencil case, and laptop into your leather messenger bag. No, that's on Thursday.

You'd been working on a research paper that you hoped to publish about the Modern Period of Literature in America, but the head of the English Department wanted to see how much you'd done. In all honesty the only reason why you'd started studying the Modern Period of literature was because it was supposedly the time period in which your soulmate grew up and you thought that it would give you some insight into what his life was like.

And despite your being an expert on that time period, the head of the English Department did not share your enthusiasm for it. The only thing the head of the English Department had any enthusiasm for was his self-published book of erotic poetry and staring at your legs for too long while making subtle attempts for you to sleep with him even though he was married.

You fight the wave of revulsion with the memory of the last time you had a meeting with him and give yourself a once over in the mirror hanging on the bathroom door that faces in to your living room. You looked the way that you always did, maybe a little more frantic than usual, but that was expected given the fact that you were running late.

Today you had decided to wear your favorite dark green chunky sweater that you'd knitted yourself, a dark gray argyle midi-skirt, chestnut brown ankle high-heeled leather boots, and your traditional pair of circular black-rimmed glasses.

It's going to be a good day. You smile at your reflection. Yeah, if I could remember whatever the hell it is I've forgotten.

You roll your eyes and grab a bagel from the bag on the counter.

No time to toast it.

You think mournfully before shoving it between your teeth as you run out the door, slamming it behind you so hard that it rattles the watercolor botanical framed prints on the inside wall of the apartment.

"Late again?" Your neighbor, Mrs. Charleson, asks opening the cheerful yellow door of her apartment.

She was wearing her traditional pink cat eye glasses and had her wavy gray hair pushed back by a floral headband. When you'd moved in five years ago, she had brought over some cinnamon swirl muffins and a pot of blueberry tea. She'd just lost her own soulmate and husband of sixty-five years and was looking for a friend about as much as you were.

And although she had about eighty cats, all of which who were named after literary figures (your own cat was named Heathcliff), and often smelled like mothballs, you enjoyed spending time with her. She knew about your dilemma and didn't judge you for it. She didn't throw you a pitying look or make outrageous comments about why you'd been chosen to never meet your soulmate. If anything she acted like the way you thought your mother always should but never did. Not with judgement as your mother did, but with concern and love.

"Always." You shout back, muffled around the sesame seed bagel, stamping your foot to get your boot in the right position.

"Tea later?"

"Mhmm."

"Get some earl gray macaroons!"

You make it down the stairs successfully without falling, before throwing yourself against the door that leads into the black and white tiled lobby. Your high heeled boots clack loudly against the floor and you step out onto the crowded sidewalks of the early morning.

Fall was just beginning in the city, your favorite season. The leaves in Central Park were turning reddish brown and yellow and there was a wonderful chill that swept through the crowded streets.

You wove through the people, walking in the direction of NYU and looking down at the antique wristwatch perched on your left wrist to confirm what you already knew- that you were going to be late for your 8:00 am lecture on 20th Century American Romantics.

Shit.

The city is lively for a Monday morning. The chatter of people on phones, the buzz of traffic, the high pitched screech of horns, and the smells of the city wafted over you. It was so different from the small town you grew up in, but you loved being here. Here no one knew you, no one judged you, no one muttered something under their breath about you, and no one grabbed their children and crossed the street as if you were contagious.

You felt free.

You round the corner still looking down at your watch, weaving in and out of the foot traffic the best you can, when someone bumps into your shoulder. Whoever hit you was solid, broad, and much taller than you. The bagel drops from your mouth as you jostle from the bump, and you let out a low groan.

There goes my breakfast.

You look up prepared to curse out the offender when you stop. Whoever it was hadn't stopped moving, but you catch a flash of his bright green eyes as he passes, meeting yours for only a moment.

But that moment seems to last a lifetime.

He was tall with wild dark brown hair so long it touched his shoulders and a scraggly beard that fell over his chest almost to his collarbones. He looked dirty, almost worn, and was wearing a faded maroon track suit that had some writing on the sleeve in another language that you couldn't place. But his eyes were a brilliant green, so beautiful that they took your breath away.

As soon as his eyes meet yours, your skin hums, body lightening, warmth unfurling like the petals of a flower in the center of your chest curling outward reaching for the sun above. All sounds of the city vanish, leaving you only with the manic thud of your heart. Everything in your body turns towards the man, cells vibrating, reaching out, wanting more, begging you to grab him and hold him close. Electricity pulses and dances along your skin making your hair stand on end and goosebumps erupt along your flesh.

The birthday inscribed by the stars on your wrist sears against your skin like a brand beneath the foundation you smeared over it this morning. You look at him as if seeing for the first time, as if the past years of your life have been colorless, as if you'd been living in a cave for centuries and he's your first glimpse of sunlight, and as if you'd never seen the stars and he's the midnight sky.

You'd never felt any of this before.

The man's eyes widen as he looks at you, people passing between the two of you in a faceless blur, and you wonder if he feels it too.

He has to…

But the man shakes his head and turns his back on you continuing on his path down the sidewalk in the opposite direction, adjusting the strap of the bag on his shoulder as he goes.

"Wait-" You start to say, but your phone rings loudly in your pocket breaking the spell, and as you look down to retrieve it, you lose the man in the crowd.

What the hell just happened?

The rest of your day is chaotic, almost a blur, your body still humming from seeing that man on the street, wrist aching where the birthdate on your wrist burned against your flesh so hot that it seared through the foundation you brushed meticulously over the skin this morning to cover it up. It was no longer black, but flashed a brilliant gold with every shift of your wrist in the light as you moved your arm when teaching, peeking out beneath the sleeve of your sweater. Every flash distracted you from your lecture. Even your TA, Tate, who sat in the front row of your class began to notice how often you lost your train of thought.

You barely got through your 8:00 am lecture, stumbled through you 9:00 and 10:15, and canceled your 2:00 class much to the chagrin of your students who were expecting a test.

When Tate finally asked you if you're feeling alright, you wave a hand and tell him to take the rest of the day off, while you barricaded yourself in your office and stared at your wrist for hours, running your hands over the golden date confused. The birthdays always shone gold after two people found one another, and when your soulmate died, it went back to black, as if a reminder that the world had faded.

It was weird to see it shine so brightly when you'd lived your whole life staring at the mark and wishing for it to go away.

But he's not here, he's gone. I don't know where he went or how to find him…

Your friends back home described finding their soulmates before, tried to explain to you what it was like when they locked eyes with them for the first time, but everyone was different. No one could describe exactly how they felt when it happened.

Deep down you thought that it should feel like what happened when you locked eyes with the man on the street, like nothing else existed, just him and you but-

He acted like it was nothing like I was just another person and not the other half of his soul.

You swallow the lump in your throat, emotion from a lifetime of disappointment building, and finally the tears begin to crest and fall over your cheeks. You'd never heard of a one sided soulmate before, of only one person feeling drawn to the other one.

Then again, I've never heard of someone printed with the date of a soulmate who was born so far in the past.

Seeing him for the first time was like taking a bullet to the chest, the sharp spike, followed by the force of gravity jolting you into reality.

But why him?

You think again about how weathered he looked, like he'd been living under a rock for the past hundred years. And then you see the flash of his brilliant green eyes again in your mind, just for a fleeting moment, but it's enough to make the warmth trail along your skin, like the soft caress of a lover.

Was he really born in 1919? Or was this just another joke? Another way for the universe to laugh at me?

Frustrated tears blur your eyes as you stroke the birthdate on your wrist, heart breaking all over again, because it seemed that even if you had found the man the universe designated for you, he didn't care.

One Year Later: Present Day

You sigh loudly and hold up another dress in front of your body looking at yourself in the mirror. You had no idea what you were going to wear to Annie and your brother Hughie's housewarming party and you only had about another thirty minutes before you had to leave.

Your brother had been living in New York longer than you had, but he still made time for you. The two of you got lunch every week and it was your fault that he met Annie.

Meeting her yourself had been a complete fluke. You'd been sitting at your favorite bench in Central Park by the pond, reading your favorite book, allowing the gentle prose of the author to whisk you away for a few minutes, when someone sat down beside you and promptly began to cry.

And when you asked her what was wrong she'd told you everything about her problems at work and although you'd never been the best at comforting other people, you'd taken her to the closest coffee shop and the two of you had bonded over Chai Tea lattes.

You'd invited her over to watch a movie with your brother one Saturday night and then had a front row seat when the two of them realized that they were meant to be together. You'd tried to be happy for them, but the whole time Annie gushed about Hughie and Hughie stared at her like she was the last glimpse of the sun before it dropped below the horizon all you could think about was that it would never happen to you.

And now one year later, the two of them were finally moving in together in a fancy apartment uptown and you didn't want to imagine what the rent was. Your own studio was enough for you and you were lucky enough to have one that was rent controlled.

But you figured due to Annie being one of the Seven, she was probably making more than your measly teaching salary could ever amount to.

Learning that she was Starlight had been surprising, you weren't a supe, not even close and you didn't want to be. You had your hands full with teaching college kids, and didn't want to think about what it would be like to have superpowers or really what you would do with them. You certainly didn't need them to be a teacher and you didn't want to have them.

Plus, you always worried that you'd get some weird power like shooting webs out of your butt or making it rain blood. You didn't want to take that chance and shooting up Compound V felt like Russian Roulette.

You also worried about your brother working so closely with supes. The two of you hadn’t met any growing up and you worried that he was putting himself in danger every day when he went out to deal with them. But you were happy that Annie went with him, because you knew that she wouldn't let anything happen to him, she loved him too much.

As you hold up a black dress in the mirror you see a flash of the golden birthdate on your arm, and you're unable to fight the emotion that builds in your chest when you do.

It had been a year since it happened, since you locked eyes with a complete stranger on the street and felt your soul intertwine with his and he turned his back on you.

You'd understood that.

Understood that for some reason he decided to turn away like you meant nothing to him, like you weren't the other piece of his soul, and like a part of him didn't call out to you, a lighthouse over a stormy sea to a sinking ship.

It had broken you more than the first time you realized what the date on your arm meant. It always seemed ridiculous that something that brought happiness to millions of others made you feel broken, like there was something wrong with you.

And in that moment on the street something felt right for a few seconds, you felt whole for the first time in your life, only to have everything dashed against the rocks all over again.

But you hadn't forgotten him, couldn't forget him. His green eyes haunted you and each night you dreamed of him.

You saw pieces of his life, his memories, felt his pain, his anger, his frustration, and deep down his fear whenever you fell asleep. You'd never heard of that before, of a soulmate dreaming the memories of another.

You'd asked your neighbor, Mrs. Charleson if she had dreams of her soulmate's memories, she'd said no, but then she said that she'd heard about it, thought that it was only a myth, but it meant that the souls were fated to spend more than one lifetime together.

As if you knew what that meant.

It had broken your heart even more when she said that, because if that were true why did he turn away?

How could he turn away? Why did he leave me standing in the street and acted like I wasn't his other half?

It made you think that maybe he wasn't impressed with you and that he was disappointed that you of all people were his soulmate.

You'd had a mental breakdown at Mrs. Charleson's apartment when you went home early the day you met your soulmate or whatever the hell he was.

She'd made blueberry tea and rubbed you back. And when the tea hadn't worked she had cracked a bottle of red wine and ordered greasy takeout food that the two of you ate on her floral couch while her cats circled like sharks looking for a piece of your chicken and broccoli.

You would have called Annie, but she and Hughie were out of town on a long weekend getaway.

And when you went back to your apartment and crashed into your bed, you'd dreamt of him for the first time.

The memories you'd seen when you closed your eyes that night were not happy at all. You'd seen the early years of his life being berated by his father, years of him drinking and fucking his sorrows away, and then the worst, him being tortured in what looked like a lab. He was a supe, that much you could gather from the memories. But they were filled with pain, suffering, frustration- you'd never met someone who'd been through so much before. Endured so much torture.

You still didn't know his name, didn't see enough of his life to figure out who he was, only that he was different than you in almost every single way. The memories were terrible, filled with blood, death, and pain. It scared you to see your soulmate that way, see him so angry and see him hurt and kill people. You couldn't imagine the kind of man he was, the kind of man who could burn someone beyond recognition and feel absolutely nothing.

It was confusing. You didn't understand how someone who was supposed to be the other half of your soul, was the complete opposite of you. Someone that was filled with so much rage and pain was the man the stars declared was for you.

It doesn't matter anyway. He saw you and didn't want you.

You ignore the lump of emotion in the back of your throat and hold up a navy blue dress, but you hang it back in your closet with a sigh. Nothing seemed to be appropriate for you to wear to the party and you hadn’t been shopping for a new outfit in ages. Not to mention you knew that no matter what you wore Annie would look flawless.

You loved your brother's soulmate, but sometimes you were intimidated by how pretty she was and how together she was. It made you a little self-conscious about the long skirts, sweaters, and blazers you wore when you were at work and you were not together at all.

You seemed to always be running around like a chicken with it's head cut off, frantically running from place to place and trying not to lose the last bit of sanity you had left. While Annie was confident, poised, and glided into each room.

Finally, you reach for a pair of your favorite blue jeans and the same green chunky knit sweater you were wearing the day that you saw him for the first time. The sleeves were long enough to cover the mark on the wrist. You hadn't told your brother or Annie about that day and you didn't want them to see the golden date on your wrist and ask you where your soulmate was.

Guess I'm going a little more casual today.

On your way out you give your cat, Heathcliff, an affectionate scratch behind the ears and grab your purse. You were running a little early this time, early enough to pick up a Snake Plant around the corner at your favorite plant shop, 'Please Don't Die,' as a housewarming gift and then stopped at the liquor store next door to grab a bottle of Annie's favorite wine.

You figured that you'd end up staying late and drinking wine with her long after the party was over.

Hughie opens the door of the apartment when you knock. "Thank God you're here! Annie is freaking out and driving me up the wall-"

"No I'm not! I'm just expressing all the things that have to be done within the next five minutes or I really am going to go crazy!" You hear his soulmate shout back when Hughie lets you in.

The apartment is fancier than yours, all white walls and glass windows that display a view you would kill for. Your brother is wearing a nice light blue button down shirt and navy tie, and his hair is it's usual fluffed and curly self. He looks happy and it warms a piece of your heart because you knew how much that he deserved it. And that's all you wanted for your older brother.

Annie appears, wearing a white dress that wraps over one shoulder and falls to her ankles, effortlessly elegant as usual. It made you feel self-conscious that you'd worn jeans, when Annie was wearing something that made her look like a Greek goddess.

"I am so underdressed." You mutter to yourself

"No! You look great babe. I love those jeans on you." She smiles pulling you in for a hug.

"Well-"

"But please let me do something with your hair." Annie touches the messy bun at the back of your head making a face.

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"Nothing, I'm just going to spruce it up a little bit for you."

"But-"

Annie pulls the bottle of wine and the plant from your arms and shoves them at Hughie. "We'll be right back." And with that she drags you to their shared bedroom.

20 minutes later your hair has been perfectly curled and styled by Annie's skillful hands. She'd even adjusted your make up so that now you're wearing a bold red lipstick and a dark eyeshadow that matches your ensemble. And even you have to admit that you look better than you did moments ago. You usually didn't wear that much makeup, sometimes it made you feel like you weren't you, but what Annie had applied seemed stylish.

"Thanks Annie."

"Of course." She smiles brightly and leads you back out into the large kitchen filled with stainless steel appliances and real marble countertops. "How have you been? Did you finish that paper you were writing?"

By now several people have already begun to gather at different parts of the apartment, talking quietly with one another, while sipping drinks and eating finger food. The sound of their chatter is masked by the Billy Joel song playing from the speaker in the corner.

"Yeah. I submitted it, now I'm just waiting for the department head to read it." You frown at the thought.

"You don't think he'll like it?" She moves to the freezer to grab a bag of ice.

"Dale doesn't like the modern period of literature as much as I do so I'm expecting him to have a lot of critiques and reasons why he doesn't like it." You take the bag from her and set it on the counter.

"Sorry."

"It's okay. I'm used to it. He's never ecstatic about my research work." The thought makes you frown. "Even though he knows it's my specialty and the reason why he hired me."

"Isn’t he the creepy married guy that keeps trying to take you to dinner and wrote all those sensual poems about women who sound nothing like his wife?"

"Yep."

"Ew." Annie's face scrunches up in disgust.

"My thoughts exactly." You sigh looking around the kitchen for an ice bucket. "Do y'all have an ice bucket somewhere or-"

"It should be in that cabinet." She points behind you just as you hear someone knock loudly on the front door.

"Perfect."

The ice bucket is acrylic, see-through, and light pink, but you find it easily. The ice clanks against the sides as you pour, not bothering to watch Hughie open the door for whoever it was that hit the front door of the apartment with so much force you thought it would cave in.

Annie leans against the counter pouring herself a glass of wine and groans to herself when she sees who Hughie was greeting.

"What's wrong?" You ask her, your tongue between your teeth as you try not to spill any of the ice over the perfect countertops.

"I didn't think he would come." She grumbles.

"Who?"

"Ben." Annie all but sighs the name.

"And why didn't you want him to come?" You ask, pouring more ice into the bucket.

"He's just kind of rough-"

"Rough?"

"He works with Hughie. He's a supe. Thinks he's the best thing since sliced bread or whatever.” She sighs again and takes a sip of her white wine to calm down. "Actually he used to be Soldier Boy."

"Soldier Boy? You mean the supe from the 80's that died?"

Hughie didn't tell me he had a dead man working with him.

"It's a long story." Annie waves her hand as if to dissipate the thought, but it doesn’t make you any less curious. "Now he works at the bureau with Hughie trying to keep supes in check. Usually he and Butcher bump heads."

"Oh."

Hughie didn't talk much about what he did with Butcher, or really who he met, but after Homelander disappeared and Stormfront took over as leader as the Seven more supes began to come out of the woodwork, supes that had been afraid before, but now had no one to keep them in check. And although The Seven were feared in the city, no one was feared as much as Homelander.

"I'm sure that he won't try anything Annie. And if he does I'll keep him in check." You smile at your friend.

It's her housewarming party and supe or no if he's a prick I'm going to kick his ass out. Annie doesn't deserve to feel stressed today of all days.

"Thanks babe."

"What are friends for?"

She squeezes your arm and walks away to talk with MM who stands with a little girl who must be his daughter. You'd only spoken to him a handful of times, but he was always eager to talk about her achievements in school. He was so proud of her that it made your heart warm. Her mother wasn't his soulmate, but there hadn't been any hard feelings between MM and his daughter's mother.

That wasn't unusual. You'd known several people who decided to date other people before meeting their soulmate as a way of passing the time. You'd always thought it was ridiculous to commit yourself to someone else and fall in love with them, only to have your heart broken when they met who they were meant to be with.

It was why you hadn't tried to date anyone, because you might have never met your soulmate, but the other person you'd be in a relationship with would. And you didn’t want to give your heart to someone only to have them leave you when they met their other half. Which meant that you were probably going to die alone, especially because your soulmate doesn't want you. It hadn't helped that you'd seen a few memories from your own soulmate with other women over the years, women that didn't look anything like you, women that seemed more confident, more beautiful, and more stylish than you.

Maybe that's why he didn't want me.

Your feel the familiar twinge in your chest when you thought that and fought the tears that burned when you thought of how happy Annie and Hughie were. You didn't want to cry at their party.

The familiar question rises in your head again:

When will it be okay?

Probably never.

You turn toward the freezer holding the now half-full bag of ice intent on putting it back when someone bumps into you. The bag slips from your hands and ice goes skittering across the perfect hardwood floors in every direction, but just when you start to drop to pick it up, you feel a large hand grip your shoulder.

A gasp escapes from your mouth as it makes contact.

As soon as the palm touches you, you feel nothing else, not the shift of the sweater against your skin, not the slight chill from the air conditioner, not the brush of your hair against your cheeks, all you feel is the warmth radiating through your clothes and soaking into your skin from the person's hand.

The hand moves to cup your chin gently, the shock of the person's skin touching yours makes the feeling increase ten-fold as the hand tilts your face up to meet the eyes of the person who bumped into you.

You know it's him before your eyes meet his, know that it's the man from the street who you saw for only a few seconds a year ago, but this time when his beautiful green eyes meet yours everything you felt that day comes roaring back.

He's taller than you remember, shoulders proud and broad stretching a dark gray button down shirt over his chest that have the sleeves rolled up revealing tanned arms. His hair is shorter, still dark brown, but now only long enough to cover the tops of his ears and his beard is shaved so that only a thick dusting covers his cheeks, but it's still him. And he's more handsome than any version you could come up with in your mind.

All sound in the room vanishes, the drone of chatter fades, the clinking of glasses disappears, the only sound that remains is your own heart thudding in your chest and you swear you can hear his beating at the same frequency, both of your hearts calling out to one another.

Your entire body feels like it's vibrating, as if every cell is moving so fast that they're heating you from the inside, leaving behind a molten puddle of what you used to be. A golden cord weaves around the two of you securing your heart to his in your mind, making you gasp as it hooks to his heart binding his soul to yours. Time stops as he gazes at you, something brightening in his green eyes as they absorb your own gaze.

The man doesn't move. It almost looks like he's stopped breathing, and you realize that you haven't taken a breath since he touched your shoulder. His eyes drop down to your right wrist where your hand rests over his heart, where he knows his birthday will be.

You don't remember reaching out to touch him, but now that you realize it, you can feel his heart beating beneath the palm of your hand like a fluttering bird, gentle and judging by the memories you had witnessed from him, nothing about this man was gentle.

"I've been looking everywhere for you sweetheart." The man rumbles, the words vibrating against your fingertips where they rest against his muscular chest. He smiles down at you and somewhere deep down you feel something break open that you thought was locked away long ago.

And as you stand there looking up at the man you thought you'd never see again, the autumn sun warm against your back, you feel a flicker of something that could grow into a blaze spark to life in your chest.

A/N: I hope y'all loved the first chapter as much as I loved writing it! I've never written a soulmate AU, so I am a little nervous about it, but I think that it's going to be a lot of fun! And yes, I did give Ben the same birthday as Dean Winchester (not the same year). In my head Ben is Dean from a different universe, and it just made sense to me. 😂

Thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, likes, and comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think 😊 If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series please let me know! :)

Taglist:

@pamwritessometimes @roger-that-cap @my-obsession-spn @deangirl96 @kr804573

@roseblue373 @52ndstreeet @mrsjenniferwinchester @impala67stellawinchester

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy/ben #the boys amazon #the boys fanfic #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy fic #soldier boy x y/n

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hazzashouse · 2 months ago

Note

I love your writing! Can you do one about y/n in labor and H cooing/comforting her? Thank you!!

The First Day of Forever (Harry Styles)

A/N: okay so it’s my first time writing sth like this so please bear with me 😅

Triggers: mentions of pain, labour

Summary: As Y/N endures the stress and pain of labor, Harry remains by her side, comforting her with unwavering love and support, despite his own heart aching to see her in pain.

Pairing: Harry Styles!dad x y/n pregnant wife

The room was filled with soft murmurs and the occasional rush of footsteps, but Harry couldn’t hear any of it. His entire world was focused on you. You were gripping his hand tightly, your head resting against his chest, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“I can’t do this, Harry,” you whispered, your voice trembling as another wave of pain coursed through you.

Harry’s heart shattered at the sound of your distress. He crouched down beside you, his free hand brushing the damp strands of hair from your face. “Yes, you can, love,” he murmured, his voice steady but soft, his green eyes filled with a mixture of pride and worry. “You’re the strongest person I know. I promise, you’re doing so well.”

The words seemed to steady you for a moment, but another contraction made you squeeze his hand tighter, and a sob escaped your lips. Seeing you in pain like this made Harry feel utterly helpless, a feeling he wasn’t used to. If he could, he would have taken every bit of it away in an instant.

“Look at me, sweetheart,” he urged gently, his voice full of love. You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze, and he smiled softly, despite the lump in his throat. “You’re not alone. I’m right here with you, and I’m not going anywhere. Remember what we talked about? How we’ve waited for this moment? It’s our little girl, love. She’s almost here.”

A tear slipped from your eye, but you nodded, clinging to his words as tightly as you clung to his hand.

Harry pressed a kiss to your forehead, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over your hand. “I know it’s hard,” he whispered. “But you’re doing this for her, for us. She’s going to be perfect, just like her mum.”

The memory of when you’d first told him you were pregnant flashed through his mind. He’d come home late from a tour meeting, exhausted but eager to see you, and you’d greeted him with a nervous smile and a tiny pair of baby shoes in your hands. It had taken a moment for him to process, but when he did, he’d dropped to his knees, pulling you into his arms as tears streamed down his face.

“You’re going to be the best dad,” you’d told him through your tears. And now, as he sat here with you, helping you through one of the hardest moments of your life, he realized you were right. But only because you were the best partner he could have ever hoped for.

“You’re doing so well, Y/N,” he repeated now, his voice firm but loving. “She’s going to be so lucky to have you as her mum. Just a little longer, and we’ll be holding her, yeah? You and me, together.”

Another sob escaped your lips, but this time it wasn’t just from pain. There was something else there—determination. You nodded again, leaning into him, drawing strength from his words and his presence.

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice shaking.

“I love you more,” Harry replied without hesitation, his lips brushing your temple. “And I love her already, too. She’s got the most incredible mum in the world.”

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours, but Harry never let go of your hand, never wavered in his support. When your cries turned into gasps of relief, the first tiny, indignant cry of your baby girl filled the room.

Harry’s breath caught in his throat, his heart swelling with an emotion so powerful it almost knocked him over.

“She’s here,” he whispered, his voice breaking as tears filled his eyes. “Our little girl, love. She’s here.”

When they placed her in your arms, you let out a choked sob, every bit of pain and stress melting away as you gazed at the tiny, perfect life you and Harry had created together. Harry leaned down, his forehead resting against yours as he stared at your daughter in awe.

“She’s beautiful,” he whispered, his tears falling freely now.

You looked up at him, your eyes shining with exhaustion and pure joy. “We did it,” you murmured.

Harry kissed you softly, his hand coming up to gently touch the little bundle in your arms. “No, you did it,” he said, his voice filled with reverence. “You’re incredible, Y/N. I’ll never forget this moment. Ever.”

And as he held his family close, Harry knew that this—this love, this little girl, this life you had built together—was the greatest thing he’d ever be a part of.

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kasagia · 4 months ago

Text

In death's arms

Pairing: Annatar/Sauron x fem!maia! reader Summary: There was nothing Sauron regretted doing. Every nasty thing he did to gain power paid off for him, and given the choice again, he would do it all over again. Or so he thought, until his path was crossed with someone from his past. It turns out that some of his mistakes are destined to haunt him forever. Author's note: A little sth that stuck in my head after watching Agatha All Along... this is pure fiction and probably wouldn't work in Middle-earth, but since I've written it... 😅 I've been completely out of it lately and everything's been going so fast in my life lately, so I'm terribly sorry if I've missed any messages/comments from you! I'm trying to catch up slowly! Anyway, enjoy! Halbrand's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist

“Have you come to torment me again?” He asks, gathering the last of his strength to mock you as you appear before him.

From the nasty grin you give him, instead of being angry at his mockery, he realises how bad a state he is in. Morgoth has just put him through one of his tests. Sauron no longer remembers what he had to do. But he remembers his master's anger when he failed. He remembers clearly every cut he inflicted on him, every wound, every spilt blood that stained his skin and clothes, or at least the shreds that remained of them.

He no longer counted how much of his blood had soaked into his clothes and how much into the stone floor and wall behind him. And the seemingly irritating digging of the bars into his neck and skin stopped bothering him as the metal and his body became one.

"Contrary to appearances, your new master is not willing enough to hand you over to me. Too bad. You'd look pretty in your grave, Mairon. Oh, forgive me. Old habits die hard, Sauron."

He trembles when you speak his true name. The name given to him by the Valar. It sounds both sweet and deadly on your lips. A reminder of what he has lost, of what he could have had, had his lust for power been kept in check, had he never left the forge…

"He needs me. He knows that only I can lead his army to the victory."

"Victory, death. What's the difference, right?" You reply with a smirk that sends an unpleasant shiver down his spine.

He feels... uneasy around you. It wasn't something he was used to. Your presence always brought him some kind of comfort and peace, but now... now everything was different. He and you had changed. Not necessarily for the better.

"I suppose it makes no difference to you whether you take me in a dungeon or on a battlefield."

"But your honour wouldn't allow you to be beneath me, would it, my sweet deceiver?" You mock him and laugh, which sends a cold, unpleasant shiver down his spine.

Your laughter is so different from the one he remembers. It is bleak and harsh as the blade he once forged for you, and which you now carry at your side.

He remembered loving to bask in the glow of your laughter, in the halls of the Valar, as you feasted and danced, living as carefree a life as could be. Sometimes he longed for those days... to spend another one like this, so that he could engrave it forever in his memory and cling to it to save himself from total corruption and rottenness.

"Why do you keep showing up? You know that you can't get your claws on me."

"I am aware about that. But every moment like this will only sweeten the day when I finally take you in my arms, my dear deceiver. And believe me... you will not escape once I finally get my hands on you. In the end, all paths lead to one person. And it is not Morgoth. It is not any of your Valar. It is not any being that you know. In the end, you will come to me. And you will suffer more than Morgoth ever made you do, my Dark Lord."

You press your lips to his forehead—the place where Morgoth smashed his skull into the wall and split his head. He trembles as your lips press against raw, bleeding skin. You groan, running your tongue over his wound, tasting his black blood. And he cries out as you send waves of pain through him worse than any Morgoth had inflicted on him.

He holds his breath as your other hand lazily caresses the skin of his arm, tracing patterns with your black nails, only to suddenly dig them into the open wounds Morgoth had inflicted on him. Sauron groans in pain, trembling in your arms. You press your lips to his, drinking in his every cry as you caress him with your gentle touch and send waves of pain shooting through every tiny particle of his body.

"I will drink in every one of your sweet screams, my dearest. I will bask in every pain your being feels. Until all you remember, all you know, is me and my blade." You whisper your promise, and as suddenly as you came, you disappeared.

You leave him trembling and crying on the cold stone floor, dirty with his blood. And though he hated the times you came to mock him, he was relieved that you didn't leave him completely alone. Even if you only came to drive the knives Morgoth had placed inside him deeper.

He needed you. As pathetic as it was, he needed those little moments with you to keep him from going completely crazy during his darkest hours and the tests his master put him through.

But he lived with the hope that one day he would be able to repay you with the same sweet torture. That one day he would be the one to listen to your sighs of pain... or cries of pleasure. He wasn't sure yet whether he loved or hated you more—even though you seemed to already have your mind set about your feelings towards him.

Adar has betrayed him. He has betrayed him in the worst possible way. Sauron lies on the floor, surrounded by Orcs who drive the blades of Morgoth's crown into him as their Lord-Father looks on passively.

This couldn't be the end. He couldn't end like this. He couldn't be defeated like Morgoth had been, not by the filthy stinking Orcs and someone he had considered a friend. His master had been right; if they didn't fear you, you were nothing to them. There was no ally so powerful, so loyal, and true as fear. And now he was learning his lesson once again. In the most painful way possible.

He took small, ragged breaths that burned his body every time his lungs tried to expand and draw in air. Blood dripped from almost every inch of his body. And suddenly, in the distance, a few feet from those nasty orcs, he sees you.

You watch his fall with complete calm. You play carelessly with the blade he gave you, waiting for his end, letting the orcs finish their work. He sees no emotion on your face. Ironic, considering that this is probably the best day of your life. He will finally get his punishment from you. There was nothing he could do to escape you... unless...

He gasps especially hard when one of the orcs plunges a blade into his heart. As if through a haze, he sees Adar above him, who, after making sure that his physical body has been completely destroyed, says something to his orcs. Sauron hears only a screech in his ears as his battered heart gives its last beat. And then there is only darkness. Bleak darkness, which is quickly interrupted by a song all too familiar to him.

"Come, come, my lost soul, you will find your peace. Come, come, down your road, straight into my arms."

Sauron remembers the countless nights after Morgoth's torture, when you sang it to him and mocked him, giving him a taste of what you would do when you could finally take him in your arms.

Once it was a simple lullaby. A lullaby you made up for him when he couldn't calm his mind, when he spent too much time in Aulë's forge, too absorbed in his work to see you. Now you were attracting souls who were about to meet their end.

But he is not ready for death yet. He does not want to go like this. Not when he has known no power, not when the sacrifice he made of himself has brought him nothing at all. He does not want to go into your arms, knowing that he has thrown away everything he had with you for nothing.

"Look where your lust has taken you, my darling." You tell him with a smirk, taking your time as you walk towards him.

He kneels, swaying as he tries to keep his balance. He falls on both hands in front of you, taking in shuddering breaths as the black bonds of your magic close around him, crushing him in a tight embrace.

"I thought you loved my embrace? You told me so. Remember? When we lay together in the halls of the Valar, each held tightly, when you swore to me that you would not yield to Morgoth's influence, that what we have was enough, that you would never dream of more than what we have? Tell me, did you plan to betray me even then, or did you forget your promises in time?"

After each of your mockery comes a blow from you. Sometimes it's a simple kick, sometimes a punch delivered from your fist, and sometimes you pierce his body with a dagger, tormenting him even more and twisting him so that the blade grazes every single muscle of his. You were going for your revenge. And nothing was going to stop you.

"Pathetic. You wanted power. You wanted power so great that millions would kneel before you, and now you are on your knees. You were willing to do anything; you gave up everything just to fulfil your dark desires. Tell me, Sauron, was it worth it? Because I am truly happy with this turn of events."

He gasps as you grab him by the neck, forcing his gaze to meet yours. He trembles, staring into your black, dilated pupils. Your face is nothing like the one he remembers. You look like death. You are the real death. He trembles, seeing what the Vaalr did to you after he left and what punishment they gave you for loving a traitor. He looks away, wanting to momentarily ease his guilt and helplessness, but your tightening grip on his neck won't let him.

"You have no idea how long I've dreamed of this. You have no idea how long I've wanted to tear out every last piece of you just to put you back together and present you to the Valar, to give you into their hands so you could suffer as you should. Do you think that what you became was all your fault? That they wanted to punish us for our love? I asked them to make me something you fear, something you must reckon with. I am what everyone sees at the end; I am what takes everyone, even the mightiest of men. I am the end of Morgoth, the end of all evil, all good, the end of everything. I am death." You growl and throw him across the room.

He groans in pain, but he doesn't try to run away from you anymore. He knows that without his physical form, without any power, he won't hide from you. He was in your world, in the thrall of your power. And if he wanted to somehow escape from your grip, he had to play his cards right.

"I never wanted this for you... I never wanted this for us." He gasps, glancing at you. You walk slowly toward him, your black outfit billowing behind you, giving you an ethereal, trash-like look. As much as he fears you, he yearns to have you by his side. But he's not foolish or naive enough to believe you'll ever be on his side again.

"You left me! You left me to rot in the light of the Valar!! You tore my heart, all my humanity, destroyed everything I was, and left me alone. What did you want then, deceiver? What did you want, if not my absolute destruction, so that the vestiges of my past would not torment you in your greedy quest for power?"

He grunts as you drive your sword through his side. He grabs your hand, the one resting on the hilt, and pulls you toward him. You land on the floor with him, and before you can react, he's straddling you, placing the metal against your neck as he leans over you. His blood decorates your skin as his hand cups your cheek. Any attempts to fight him die inside you as his skin touches yours. You freeze for a moment, unused to someone's touch after so long alone, and he takes advantage of it as much as he can.

"I… I've always wanted… I've dreamed of you standing beside me… as my queen. My equal… I… I would never turn my back on you completely." He mumbles, pressing his nose to your temple. You break your dark vision of death for a moment and show him the face he knew so well, the one he had missed for so long that tears came to his eyes. You kick him in the chest and push him away, trying to regain some control. You reach for your neck and wipe away his blood. Without taking your eyes off him, you lick your fingers clean.

"You would trade me for the power Morgoth had at the first opportunity. You have no heart. You never did. And I was too naive to see you for who you really were." With a flick of your wrist, the bonds around him reappear. His wrists and ankles are bound and he is immobilized as he waits for you to make your final move and take his soul from this world forever.

"I have a heart. As black and rotten as yours. And it beats for you. Always has, always will. Even if you seek to destroy me utterly… even if you are left all alone after you have done your duty to the Valar and taken me into your sweet, hellish embrace." He says, only half-feigning contrition for what he had done.

He loved you. If there was one thing he was certain of about his old life, it was that he had loved you deeply. But not enough to become just another servant of the Valar. He wanted more. He had to have more. If he couldn't have you by his side, he would be content to fight with you. Until death do you part.

"If you loved me, you would never leave me." The slight tremor in your voice gives him hope that this meeting will go as he had hoped.

He lifts his gaze to you, studying you as you stand before him. The dagger in your hand is still a painful reminder of what it could cost him if he doesn't say the right words, but for now all he can think about is how wonderfully terrifying you look, standing before him in all your glory and power.

You captivate him. You tempt him. The Valar knew what they were doing when they made you the Lady of Death. You would be his undoing. He knows it. Eventually he will fall, and there will be no turning back. But before he does... he wants to make sure he remains legendary and eternal.

"It was because I loved you that I had to leave you. I didn't want to taint you with my darkness. You were pure. You were the sweetness that I wanted to drink and destroy at the same time for my own pleasure. You would not have had a better fate with me." He tries to defend himself by touching your most sensitive spot. He sees your ardour slowly subside as you begin to really consider his words.

You hesitate. He can see it in your gaze. He can see that the vision of your dream future he's presented to you is starting to tempt you. If he'd pushed you just a little further, if he'd said a few more words, maybe you'd really join his side? Maybe you'd be a force against the world? Maybe if he hadn't left you completely alone, maybe you could have had it all?

You walk up to him and stop a few millimetres away from him. If he takes a deep breath, his chest can gently brush against yours. He wants so badly to drive the blade into you and simultaneously capture your lips in a kiss that it's a confusing feeling in his current situation. You wanted him dead. That's what you came here for. To take him away. And yet you still had your ways of making him want you.

You lean forward, your hair brushing his cheek as your tongue traces the shell of his ear. He shivers as your cold breath contrasts with the warm saliva you spread before you bite down on his skin teasingly.

"I was soaked in it long before you even thought about leaving, my sweet deceiver. Now, I am just darkness." You whisper in his ear. You move away millimetres, far enough to look him in the eyes.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you raise your blade, preparing to deal the final blow and take his soul forever, locking him away in a cell next to Morgoth, most likely.

So in a desperate act of self-savement, or perhaps out of the lust you've awakened in him, or perhaps out of the pure desire to taste your lips one more time before he leaves this world, he leans down and kisses you.

And it surprises you. Sauron hears the dagger fall from your hand to the floor as you reach for his hair, tangling your hands in it. He groans and tugs at the bonds you've trapped him in so he can wrap his arms around you and take you in his arms like he wanted to all along, but you don't let him move an inch. He growls in rage and bites your lip in retaliation, drawing blood—a random action that saves him from his predicament.

With each drop of your blood, he feels the power within him begin to bubble up again. Before you know it, he breaks your bonds and pushes you against the wall behind you. You groan in protest, trying to push him away from you. You try to summon your powers to immobilise him again, but he plunges his blade into your arm, effectively distracting you.

You cry out in pain, cursing his name, but he has only one goal in mind. He tears your clothes and burrows into your skin, biting and caressing every exposed part, feeding on your blood and power, restoring his soul the vitality it needs.

You are a mess of black blood and tears as he feasts on you, outsmarting you and binding you in your own shackles that you used against him.

"You won't take me as easily as you take these mortals." He growls against your skin, drinking your blood as he uses his knife to carve tiny cuts into your skin, decorating it with both black liquid and hickeys, marks from his bites and fingers.

“You’ll pay for this.” You moan as he bites into your neck, leaving a messy, bloody trail. He licks his lips and grabs you roughly by the waist, pulling you closer so you can feel the bulge of his cock against your thigh.

"Then, my sweet death, you will take me as a happy man." He growls in your ear before smashing his lips against yours in another kiss. You don't register the moment he takes your amulet from you.

His kisses numb you to the point where you don't register anything but him. All that matters to you is the way his hands caress your body, the way his lips defile every little inch of you. It feels so good to finally feel someone's touch on you…so good to finally feel HIS touch on you.

"I think that few people have the privilege of saying that they fucked death..." He mumbles in your ear, drunk on the feeling of you beneath him.

And just when he's about to bring you the greatest pleasure, just when he's teased your core long enough that you clench around his fingers desperate for more, he does something far worse than drive your dagger through you. He leaves you completely alone again.

You scream, furious and frustrated, both for having him deceive you and sexually for not giving you the release you deserved. You pound your fists on the ground and scream long and shrilly—enough that he will surely be able to hear you, whatever pathetic form he has taken since breaking out of your realm.

And driven by hot fury, you know only one thing—he will pay for this. Even if you were to seek him out and ignore your duties. You'll get him in your arms.

There was something addictive about the way people were drawn to him.

Ever since Sauron took the form of Annatar, the people of Eregion had flocked to him like moths to a flame, seeking gifts from the great messenger of the Valar. He liked the power he had over them. How one of his (false) words could turn them into his obedient puppets who would do anything to fulfill the prophecy he had foretold.

However, with the number of creatures circling around him, he had increasing difficulty maintaining the illusion he had cast over the city.

This is exactly what has happened now.

Annatar/Sauron was cleaning up the mess he had made by killing one of the elves who had discovered too quickly what was happening beyond the walls of his safe illusion. He could not afford for the whispers of panic to reach the ears of the only blacksmith whose skills were satisfactory.

Lifting the body, he freezes suddenly as a cold shiver runs through him. The atmosphere in the room changes. The only lit torch goes out, the smell of sulfur begins to fill the air, the rats that were roaming the basement disappear, and the only sound in the room is his breathing. He looks around, trying to see through the darkness of the room, but all he can see is red blood on his hands..

He frowns, looking around him as he realises the body he was supposed to get rid of is gone. He walks over to the extinguished torch and relights it, illuminating the room once more. He looks around for the body, but all he sees are the empty corridors of the underground. He frowns and focuses his senses, trying to sense any additional presence or power that would mess with his head.

And then he hears it. A soft humming from down the hall. He automatically reaches to his side, where his sword is strapped to his belt, and slowly walks toward the sound of soft singing.

"Come, come, my lost soul, you will find your peace. Come, come, down your road, straight into my arms." He freezes in mid-step. Goosebumps rise across his body, and he feels his breath quicken.

Memories—unwanted, painful memories—flood his mind as he stands in the empty hallway, wondering if he should go down. Involuntarily, his memories go back to the day he survived one of Morgoth's most demanding trainings—the day he found out what the consequences of his actions brought to you...

"I didn't know you were a coward, Y/N! Are you going to show yourself? Or should I leave you to your work and go back to mine?" He asks cheekily, trying to get you out of your hiding place. He knows how dangerous you've become, and as much as it fascinates him, he doesn't want to be on the receiving end of your blade... or claws. "I bet you're as busy as I am these days." He mumbles, pacing the empty hallways where your humming still echoes.

He glances over his shoulder a few times, wanting to make sure that you won't surprise him with a dagger to his neck.

Sauron won't admit to himself that he's afraid of you; he just knows the threat you pose to him. There was nothing worse than a mad woman—especially an unpredictable woman. And he was foolish enough to get on your bad side, to betray you, and don't look back. But how could he possibly know that you would get punished for his action? How could he predict that you will be paying off his sins to Valar? That only showed how unjust they were. Not only to you, but to him as well.

"Won't you show me your face?" He asks, still searching for the slightest sign that will give away your presence. But your soft singing, the haunting song that makes his heart beat faster, pumping adrenaline through his body, makes it impossible for him to fully devote himself to the task of finding you. Not if he doesn't want to end up with a sword in his chest. "Valar knows how I missed looking at it."

He turns around and, as if on cue, you appear to him. He presses his lips together tightly, refraining from gasping in surprise when he sees you in all your glory. He swallows hard when his gaze falls on your deformed face that you show him. A bloodthirsty smile, full of black fangs, sunken cheeks, and no nose, is one of the less... drastic forms in which you like to show yourself lately. Sauron knows how much you want to scare him; he hopes he doesn't give you too much entertainment.

"I would have a lot less work to do, my sweet deceiver, if you would just give yourself to me as you should and stopped playing Valar. You won't fool me a third time." You warn him, stepping closer. You see his throat tremble as he swallows, and he gently closes his eyes for a moment to inhale your scent and take in a little of your closeness.

You were so damn dangerous, deadly even... and he wanted more. Even though he knew full well that this desire would probably lead him to his grave.

"But wthout me you'd be terribly bored, wouldn't you?" He asks, giving you one of his smirks. He was playing with death, literally. He wondered how many times he could get out of your cruel clutches before he finally ran out of escape routes.

He freezes when you gently place your hand on his cheek, tracing the line of his jaw with your fingertip. He grits his teeth, staring at you wordlessly as you play with a strand of his blonde hair.

"Where's your elf?" You whisper against his lips, leaning in close enough that it’s a challenge for him to stay away from you. You should be a repulsive threat to him, nothing more than an enemy to be defeated. But for some reason, whether it’s your past, the pull that’s always been between you, or the power that’s bound you together, he can’t feel anything for you but pure lust.

"She left." He says shakily, wondering if you were jealous of him, if you watched him and Galadriel, if you planned her death when he declared that he wanted her to be his queen...

"Too bad... I would gladly take her in my arms. I guess I can only wait then. There is nothing more pleasant than meeting them all at the end of their path. They act as if they were truly immortal. You have no idea how surprised most of them are when they cross my path. Almost as surprised as you were when you first saw me in this form."

"I would appreciate seeing you more often if it weren't related to your current… job position." You chuckle darkly and grab his hand at his words.

You lift it between the two of you and pull out your dagger. You cut his palm, and he can only stand there, dazed, watching as you lick his black blood. You hum, tasting your power as it courses through his veins.

"Oh… but then it would be too boringly easy for you, right?" Your voice is velvety, like a balm to his frayed nerves. He allows himself to cling to you, completely forgetting that he should always be on guard with you. A mistake you won't fail to remind him of. "Tell me, Sauron… have you never heard of such a thing as being utterly charmed by death?"

Before his mind can process the meaning of your words, you have already pierced his hand with a dagger through and through. He groans in pain and tries to rip his hand from your iron grip, but you won't let him. You rip off your amulet that he stole from you, which he hung on a necklace around his neck, and you place it on his wound. You chant the appropriate words and drain him of all the power that he stole from you all those years ago—the power that helped him be reborn again.

"Next time you lay your hands on something that doesn't belong to you, I'll chop them off. I think I can find a much better use for them. A more… satisfying one, if you still know what I mean." You mock him, twisting his wrist.

He growls in pain and shoves you back, sending you crashing into the wall behind you. You raise your blade higher, pressing it against his neck as he steps closer to you. You laugh as you feel him press his own weapon against your chest.

"Well, well, well. I see you've learned something after all. Tell me, my beloved, are you afraid of me?" You whisper hoarsely, licking your lips as you lean into him. You make a move to bite into his neck, but he pulls away from you at the last second, frowning at your amused, dark chuckle.

"Only a fool wouldn't be afraid of you."

"Like calls to like, right?" You pose the question, raising an eyebrow at him. You take advantage of his momentary distraction and push him against the wall. You press yourself against him and capture his lips in a bruising, hungry kiss.

He gasps into your mouth and tangles his hands in your hair, pulling you even closer. Your darkness is addictive. He wants to bask in it, to experience it so deeply that he can become intoxicated by it. He wants to bond with you and experience the same kind of limitless power that you possess. A force that borders on death itself.

As the kiss deepens, he begins to feel you slowly draining his life force. He knows he has to pull away, but not yet. He wants to taste your lips, your sighs, and your soft moans as he caresses you through the material of your night-black dress for as long as he can. But he knows that with each little touch, kiss, and soft moan, he will want more, and it will be harder for him to pull away from you.

That's why he's reluctant to push you away. But when he does, he feels how much you've weakened him with that little kiss. He gasps, laughing thoughtfully as he struggles to even out his heartbeat and his breaths. Now he understands all that talk about deadly kisses. But if he had to choose how he died, your lips were a very tempting option.

"Enjoy the time you have left. We both know that eventually you too will find me at the end of your road. On the way… try not to bother me too much with all the dead bodies and souls you've forced me to take care of." You wink at him and blow him a kiss before disappearing, returning to the other side where the soul of the mortal he killed was waiting for you.

Sauron is surprised that you let him go so easily after his last... antics. But he knows that you didn't leave him alive out of the kindness of your heart. You enjoyed the cat and mouse game between you; you enjoyed tormenting him with the idea that you could take his soul at any moment. So he had to think of a way to make it harder for you.

He returns to the forge and absently strokes the box with the 7 rings for the dwarves. If he had divided his soul… left fragments of it in each of them, it would be impossible for you to gather them all and drag him to the world of the dead, where you could torment him as you pleased…

Or perhaps, in time, he would find a way to tame death itself and submit it to his will?

One thing was sure. At the right time, you will come for him. And you will take away everything he has worked so hard for.

Just like you always do.

He had a few centuries to figure out how to cheat death again. And how to make sure that you will be the one to fall into the trap of his arms. Not the other way around.

#sauron x reader #annatar x reader #halbrand x reader #oneshot #dark romance #toxic love #toxic relationship #smut #angst #dark magic #enemies and lovers #rings of power #lotr #fanfiction #agatha all along #i have no idea what is it but i quite like the way it went

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xoxoavenger · 4 months ago

Note

Can I request wolverine x reader where both of them were madly in love with each other, but reader was unfortunately by one of the sentanails (mutant killing robots), absolutely wreaking him. Then, he went back in time and when he gets to the mansion, and meets past reader (let’s say she also have longevity like Logan) who doesn’t know him at this point and taken of guard. When he’s trying to convince Charles that he’s from the future and needs his help and Charles is being stubborn and gets a little heated, reader is trying to calm things down and try to get everyone on the same page

so sorry this took literally forever. it was partly bc of how busy I was and partly bc I was afraid to write it, having such a popular dofp fic already (literally my fic with the most notes 😅)

Missing

pairing: Logan x Fem!Reader

word count: 2719

warnings: major character death (in the request but just in case), cannon typical violence and talk of violence

masterlist

Logan should have known this was coming.

His luck is shit. It always has been. For a hundred years now, he's felt like everything he touches goes to shit.

And then met Y/N.

She she wasn't shit. She was kind, smooth where he was rough, fitting him in all the right places. He was scared for awhile, afraid that it was too good to be true - her mutant ability being the projection of light. This power, the power of light, caused her to age slower. Charles had tried to explain it, multiple times in fact, but Logan was so lost every time that he just gave up eventually on trying to understand. All he knew was she aged slowly, just like he did, which means they could be together without him having the ever-present fear of watching her grow old.

He just never expected her to die.

He had known this was always a risk. She knew it too. And he also knew that they could have lived together, pretending like they weren't mutants, hoping from town to town, but she would never allow that. Him? He would have ran to that in a heartbeat, because he was selfish enough to want her to himself. To want to live, for the first time in two hundred years. He tried to fool himself, but how could he ever forget that he would always survive, while she simply didn't age as fast.

And that's how he should have known that everything was about to go downhill.

It happened in slow motion. But even then, it was 'unpreventable', as Charles would say. Logan knew the truth, though. It should have been him. He should have been the one to be hit with the laser. He should have been the one to have the hole inside him.

"No!" He screamed, running to her and sheathing his claws. He slides to catch her before she falls, but she's already dead in his arms. Her eyes are wide open, mouth paused in shock. Her body is limp, neck snapped back. And there's the four inch hole in her stomach, which he can see right through.

But he can't help but scream for her, calling her name. He shakes her, as if she's just asleep. As if he can fix this.

"Y/N," He cries softly, not moving as he's being pulled back. Suddenly he realizes his whole team is around him, trying to move him away from of his love. From his dead love. They're all screaming at him, and he knows that he's putting everyone in danger. But he can't let go of her. He can't bring himself to move. He closes his eyes, and then he lets out a guttural scream.

The next thing he remembers is being in a shelter, back against a wall and knees pulled against his chest. He blinks, realizing that he has no idea what happened after Y/N -

He doesn't want to think about that.

Everyone is under the shelter, talking and bandaging each other up. Logan wishes he couldn't heal, wishes he still had the marks on his body. But instead, he's left with just blood and and an empty chest.

"I can't send someone back that far. It would kill them." Kitty says, and hey, dying sounds exactly like what Logan wants right now.

"Send me." He speaks up, causing everyone to stop talking and turn to him.

"Your healing factor would help. As long as Kitty can keep you in the past that long." Charles says, and Logan remembers that his healing factor will keep him from dying. He thinks maybe he just hasn't tried hard enough to die. He's never wanted to more than he does right now.

"I can try." Kitty says with a nod. They all seem to know that if they don't do this, there is no future. They do this, or the Sentinels kill them all. They're at the end of the line. So they explain the plan, how Logan needs to get Charles and Erik on speaking terms again and stop the government from getting Mystic's blood. They think this will do the trick, that they may not be able to stop the downfall but they can stop the Sentinels. Logan realizes, then, that if he does this and it actually works, Y/N doesn't die. It reinvigorates him, starting his heart again.

They get into position, Logan laying on the makeshift table with conflicting emotions. He's mourning his lover, but he has some hope at least. He feels Kitty's hands by his head and before he knows it he's screaming, but it's not too long before he's in a bed, the bright sun beating down on him. He's with a girl - not Y/N, he didn't meet her until he met Charles, unfortunately - and he feels a little gross for it.

He gets into a fight immediately, and when his claws come out he realizes he doesn't have the metal that usually protects him. Shit. This stupid mission just keeps getting better and better. He gets shot, always a fun time, then starts the fight, just wanting to get it over with. He forgot how sensitive his stupid regular claws are, and he's tired of it by the time he makes it through the three guys. Now he needs to go to the mansion, which he has no idea what to find there.

He knocks on the door, sunglasses still on. It looks different, and not just because of the time, so he waits outside for a couple seconds for someone to answer the door. He can't even hear any kids running around, which is weird. He's so focused on this, he barely realizes someone answering the door.

"Hello, sir. We're closed, unfortunately, but I can give you directions to the nearest gas pump." She says with a smile. She's got a yellow shirt and jeans on, and Logan is pretty sure he doesn't know how to speak.

"Y/N?" He gets out, eyes clouding with tears. She looks taken aback, which shakes him up a little. He forgot that she wouldn't know who he was, of course.

"How do you know my name?" She asks, trying not to sound too skeptical. Her skin is glowing slightly, and Logan pulls his sunglasses off. It's all he can do not to cry,

"You're not gonna believe me." He chuckles, instantly feeling more at ease. How could he have forgotten that she would be here? He's never been more grateful for anything ever.

"Try me." She says, crossing her arms. He smirks and makes his way past her and into the mansion. "Hey! I didn't say you could come in!" She yells, and he looks around and his home, glad to see it standing.

"Where's the professor?" He asks, knowing it'd be easier to speak to Charles, who could read his mind.

"There is no professor. You must have the wrong place." Hank says as he walks down the stairs. Y/N turns and has a panicked look on her face, and Logan knows he needs to smooth this over.

"Listen, if you just let me talk to him, he'll know who I am. You won't believe me if I just tell you." He repeats, and Hank looks at Y/N before looking back at Logan, his face set.

"Like I said, there is no professor here. I think you should leave." Hank walks to be in front of Y/N, who looks conflicted.

"Who are you?" She asks, and Logan's heart skips a beat as he realizes that she's sticking up for him. She always said it was love at first sight, and maybe this is proof.

"I'm Logan." He says, and then he thinks about if he's actually going to tell them the next part. "And I'm from the future."

"Are you, now?" Charles is at the top of the stairs, and Logan startles when he sees that his friend doesn't have a wheelchair.

"Your legs," Logan starts, not sure what to say. He's caught off guard by a lot right now.

"Perceptive." Charlies says with a smirk as he walks down the stairs. Logan turns to Y/N, whose brows are furrowed.

"How did you know my name?" Y/N is still stuck on it, but it's almost like she's looking through him. She knows something is up.

"I'm from the future." He says, and the rest of the mutants in the room just stare at him. He looks at Charles, who is smirking. "You can read my mind. You know I'm telling the truth." At this, Charles' smile drops and his eyes squint.

"You have the wrong guy." His voice is low, and Logan shakes his head.

"No," Logan says, and Y/N tilts her head. It sounds crazy, someone from the future, but why would he lie? "I know who you are, Charles Xavier. So, read my mind, tell everyone I'm telling the truth, and can get on with what I came here to do." The room is silent as Logan and Charles stare at each other.

"I'm not that man anymore." Charles insists. Y/N knows he's not going to help, but she needs to know what this guy's deal is.

"What exactly is it you came here to do?" She asks, drawing his attention. He stares at her for a moment, making her a little concerned, but he looks lost and hurt, so she feels bad for him.

"In the future," Logan starts to get choked up, not able to look at any of them. He clears his throat, then continues. "The government was able to get Raven's blood. Because of you and Erik's feud. And they make these killers, called Sententials. Mutant killers." He can't look at them. Something happened, something bad. Clearly, if they're mutant killers, but this seems to be cutting Logan deep.

"How far in the future?" She asks, and it unsettles Logan. It's almost as if she knows, as if she's asking how long she has. He tries to remind himself that if he succeeds, she'll be okay. But will they still bet together if he changes the future? He has to hope. It's better for her to be alive, even if they aren't together. Everyone will be saved.

"Far." He answers, because he doesn't know how to tell her it's 50 years, doesn't want them to worry if they can't figure this out.

"How is this Erik and I's fault?" Charles asks, starting to get worked up. "If anything, it's solely his. I had nothing to do with this." He starts to leave, and Logan doesn't know what to do.

"You and Erik sent me from the future." Logan answers, causing everyone to pause. "You sent me because you need to work together."

"You're lying." Charles accuses.

"Well if you had your powers, you would know I'm not." Logan is starting to get worked up. This is harder than he thought it would be.

"I think you need to leave." Hank says, stepping forward. Y/N surprises them all by stepping forward as well.

"I think he's telling the truth." Y/N says, her gaze finally moving from Logan to Hank. "I think we should listen to him."

"Raven will die." Logan says, looking at Charles. "She's going to be experimented on and die. You can prevent this." Logan tries, hoping this will work. Charles glares at him, clearly not convinced.

"What about you?" Charles asks, lifting his chin. "What do you lose?"

"Did you miss the whole part about the mutant-killing machines?" Logan scoffs. Unbelievable, this young version of Charles. He'll take the old guy any day.

"No, no, no." Charles walks toward him, vacant look in his eyes somewhat clearing. "I may not be able to read minds anymore, but I know that you're in it for more than that."

"That's my business." Logan resists looking at Y/N, instead staring Charles down.

"And this is mine." Charles huffs. "I asked for your help years ago, and you told me to fuck off. I don't know what happens in the future, if you're telling the truth or not, but I do know that Erik will not be the one to stop it." He turns, and Logan knows he's losing him. He sighs, looking away from the small group.

"I lost Y/N." He says quietly. Somehow, the room goes even more silent as everyone stares at him.

"What?" She asks, barely able to breathe. He looks at her, face full of emotions she doesn't know how to decipher. She just met this man, but clearly he has known her for years.

"I found the school in 2000. You and Charles ran it, and I only stayed because of you. In my timeline, in 2023," He chokes up as the images of her flash through his mind. He wants to erase it, but it's there every time he closes his eyes. "The Sententials kill you. And they're going to kill all of us in the future, if you don't get your head out of your ass and make up with your boyfriend." Logan snaps the last part at Charles, who starts to get angry.

"Listen here-"

"Charles," Y/N starts, hand on his arm to stop him from walking even closer to Logan. She's glowing softly, emitting a calm, soothing light that even Logan can't help but admit makes his pulse slow. "Logan is giving us a chance to change the future. To save Raven."

"You're just saying that because you die." Charles lashes out, and that's how Logan knows he's not okay. He would never do that to her.

"We're all going to die!" Y/N yells. "Are you listening to him? You're probably dying in his timeline as we speak." She looks over to Logan, who is staring like she is the only person in the room.

"This is Erik's fault." Charles says, as if that made a difference.

"And it's going to be your fault if you don't listen to him." She softly speaks, and finally Charles sighs. Logan is grateful for Y/N; who knows how he would have convinced Charles without her.

"What do we have to do?"

~ When Logan wakes up, he's disoriented. The last thing he remembers he was being in the river, a rebar stuck through him and his brain shutting down from lack of oxygen. He can hear people outside his room, but what gets him to actually leave is the laugh that rings out through the hallway.

He sees her as soon as he opens his door, her smiling brighter than the sun. His heart pounds as he wonders if they're together - they didn't exactly get together in 1973, but she had helped him and believed in him when literally no one else had.

"Hey, baby," Y/N says when she catches his eyes, and he can't help the sound that escapes him. Her eyebrows raise as she realizes something is different. "What's going on?" She asks, leaving the group of people - mutants, kids, that had died, but are now here.

"Am I dead?" He asks, head reeling. She tilted her head with a small smile.

"What?" She asks, grabbing onto his arms gently. He doesn't have the same self control, however, and pulls her in. She sighs, and seems to understand. "You just got back."

"I thought I lost you." He admits, pulling back. "I at least thought we weren't going to be together." It's a hard thing for him to say out loud, but she just pulls him in for a kiss.

"James," She whispers as they pull apart, and he feels like no one has called him that in so long. She is the only one who is allowed to, the only one who won't get their throat ripped out for even thinking of uttering his real name. "There is nothing you could do to keep me away." She kisses him softly again, and he tries not to let the tears fall.

"I love you." He tells her, resting his forehead against hers.

"I love you too." She responds, giving one last peck before pulling back. "Now, I'm sure a lot has changed, so how about I catch you up on the last fifty years as we take a walk." She grabs his hand, and Logan swears he's never been happier.

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @one-sweet-gubler

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine fanfiction #logan fanfiction #logan howlett imagine #x men x reader #x men imagine

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meongryeongi · 5 days ago

Text

info: bf!anton x reader , fluffy stuff , they’re in love :(

“god, i missed you.” you say, petting his head next to yours on your shared pillow.

“missed you too.” he replies in a whisper, admiring your features as he holds your face.

“you don’t even know what it’s like sleeping with a pillow pressed against my back and pretending it’s you. except i know it’s not you because the pillow doesn’t kiss my shoulder and snore and breathe down my neck.” you tell him.

he giggles, his sweet smile spreading across his face and his eyes turning to soft crescents. “yeah?”

“mhm.. you do all the most annoying things in the sweetest ways. didn’t realize i’d miss you snoring directly into my ear so much.”

anton giggles again. after coming back home to you from a long tour he thought he’d have more to say but in reality he just missed your face. and your voice. he’ll let you talk as long as you want as long as he gets to be in your presence and stare at your pretty face.

the last couple months have all felt like a dream but feeling your touch on his skin once again he feels like he’s been brought back to life. so exhausted and ready to sleep the night away in your arms, yet so, so, in love. why would he sleep now if he falls in love with you all over again as you tell him some of the things he missed. your giggles and your smile and your voice.

sure, you called any free moment the two of you had, but it’s never the same as having you next to him.

“ton?”

“mmh?” he snaps back to reality.

“are you tired? you keep spacing out. do you want to sleep?” you ask him, ready to give him everything he needs.

“hmm.. maybe… but keep talking, missed your voice.” he tells you, nuzzling his face farther into your palm.

you pull him closer and plant the softest of kisses along his face. nose, forehead, temple, jaw, cheekbones.

usually he would whine and hide his blushing face, but today he just lets you.

he smiles so softly, blinking slowly at you, sleepily, as you continue your stories.

eventually his eyes close with the weight of the day he’d had and he drifts off to sleep. to be returned home in the warmth and comfort that is you, anton wishes to never leave. he doesn’t remember what he last heard before he slipped away to dreamland, maybe something about what your boss said at work last week.

as he sleeps, he dreams of you. of your soft skin and your sweet voice. he dreams of a future with you. he’ll make you his forever, he knows that.

and he knows that for a fact when he wakes up to you asleep too, holding his head against your chest, your arm wrapped protectively around his broad shoulders.

anton’s big, muscular, but sensitive, everyone knows that. and you treat him with the utmost love and care. he wishes to live in the safety of your hold for an eternity. an eternity with you doesn’t sound so bad.

heyyyy long time no post… 😅 i know i’ve only ever written for skz but i love anton and he’s my baby and i just had to write this when i thought of it!!! i’m a little nervous about this one considering i haven’t really written in a while but thank u for reading!! ❤️ i might write some more for riize in the future but i’m trying to get back into writing for skz as well!

#anton fluff #riize fluff #anton x reader #riize anton #riize x reader #riize imagines #riize scenarios #anton imagines #anton scenarios #anton lee

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lecsainz · 2 years ago

Text

my brother's friend

pairings: max verstappen x leclerc!reader

summary: the one where you're charles' sister and dating one of his friends, max.

authors note: I absolutely love writing smau!! sometimes I want to include all the ideas I have, but I'm afraid it will end up being tooooo longgggg

masterlist!

yn_leclerc

liked by leclerc_pascale, danielricciardo , and 250.786 others

yn_leclerc a little photo dump from this week, and let's pretend that I didn't spend this entire weekend with max away from the ferrari paddock 🤭

view all 3.264 comments

maxverstappen1 blue looks good on you 😍

yn_leclerc I know! 😘

lestappen these photos are the ultimate boyfriend material

redbullwins the best couple on the grid

arthur_leclerc traitor 😔

yn_leclerc who? arthur_leclerc you! yn_leclerc no, who asked you?

charles_leclerc what shirt is that, y/n?? it's horrifying, my eyes are bleeding

yn_leclerc your problem, not mine. 🫶

lorenzotl but to grab some food, you were there in the ferrari paddock

yn_leclerc lorenzo! shhhhhh lorenzotl I'm just stating the truth yn_leclerc red bull doesn't have italian food 😭 what could I do? arthur_leclerc spend the weekend with us

leclercmoves I'm loving this

riccnorris HER WEARING A RED BULL SHIRT

yn_leclerc

yn_leclerc always a ferrari girl, and no, my brothers didn't force me to post this 😁

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lercsainz xavi out!

liked by yn_leclerc and others

arthur_leclerc why isn't there a picture of me too?

yn_leclerc cause you're annoying arthur_leclerc seriously?! just yesterday you said I was your favorite sibling charles_leclerc everyone knows it's me! yn_leclerc actually, it's enzo

maxverstappen1 I missed seeing you in my motorhome

yn_leclerc christian said I'm not allowed in there wearing ferrari clothes, love maxverstappen1 oh he did? I think I'm going to have a little chat with the red bull team

sebredbull max activating the madmax mode

cl16 I miss seeing y/n in ferrari clothing

redbullracing am I the only one who thinks that the red bull blue is her color?

scuderiaferrari no way! the ferrari red is so much better landonorris I think orange is her color yn_leclerc never lando! you forced me to wear that hoodie and I looked so ugly danielricciardo I remember max almost having a heart attack seeing her in that hoodie pierregasly I thought lando would die that day 😅

yn_leclerc added to their story

maxverstappen1

maxverstappen1 look in my eyes, they will tell you the truth the girl in my story has always been you

tag: yn_leclerc

comments have been limited

yn_leclerc I love you so much 🤍

maxverstappen1 I love you too, mijn schat (my treasure)

yn_leclerc

liked by leclerc_pascale, danielricciardo , and 956.384 others

yn_leclerc life has been full of surprises lately and I couldn't be happier to announce that I said YES to forever with the love of my life! couldn't imagine my life without this incredible man by my side. love you, max! and that's not all... we have an extra little passenger on board! baby leclerc-verstappen coming soon! the joy and excitement we feel right now is indescribable we can't wait to welcome our little one into the world and create beautiful memories together as a family

tag: maxverstappen1

comments have been limited

maxverstappen1 I couldn't be more grateful and excited for this next chapter of our lives. y/n, you've made me the happiest man on earth. thank you for choosing me to be your partner in this incredible journey. I love you endlessly, schatje (sweetheart)

charles_leclerc wow, can't believe you're becoming a mom, y/n. you've always been my little sister! it's a beautiful journey you and max are on. wishing you all the love and happiness in this new chapter. I'm here to support you always! ❤️

arthur_leclerc congrats on the engagement and baby news, though! can't wait to become the coolest uncle ever. love you

charles_leclerc let's face it, I'm going to be the best uncle yn_leclerc I think enzo beats you guys lorenzotl I think so too charles_leclerc you think nothing. arthur_leclerc I'm going to be the best uncle, end of story yn_leclerc if you say so 🤭 arthur_leclerc Y/N! yn_leclerc I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING

lorenzotl congratulations, y/n and max! so happy for you both and excited to be an uncle. sending all the love and happiness your way

leclerc_pascale oh mon petit chou, je suis tellement fière de toi et de ta belle vie! congratulations on your engagement and the upcoming arrival of our little baby! you've truly found your happily ever after, and I couldn't be happier for you. sending all my love and blessings to you, max and our precious leclerc-verstappen baby. love, your adoring maman 💕(my little cabbage, I'm so proud of you and your beautiful life!)

maxverstappen1

liked by lewishamilton, schecoperez , and 1.572.105 others

maxverstappen1 words can't express the love and joy we feel as we hold our little one in our arms, from the moment we found out we were expecting the anticipation and excitement have been off the charts. now, seeing this tiny human who carries both our love and our dreams, it's a feeling like no other ❤️ to my beautiful fiancée, y/n, you continue to amaze me with your grace and resilience. seeing you bring our little racer into this world has filled my heart with an indescribable joy. I am beyond grateful for the incredible woman you are and I can't wait to continue this incredible journey together as a family

tag: yn_leclerc

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yn_leclerc you've stolen my heart all over again with this heartfelt message, max. our little one is a true blessing, a beautiful reflection of our love and dreams. I'm endlessly grateful to be by your side, witnessing the incredible love and joy you bring as a father. I am so incredibly blessed to have you by my side on this beautiful journey ❤️

charles_leclerc I'm so happy for you both, and I can't wait for the day when the little one is old enough to choose ferrari as their favorite team!

maxverstappen1 definitely not! the baby will be rooting for redbull! charles_leclerc we'll see about that! 👀

alex_albon I think we all know who the obvious choice for the godfather is... me! I mean, have you seen my skills with the little ones? 😁

danielricciardo oh, come on, albon! we need someone with real charisma and charm to be the godfather. that's where I step in, mate. I'll bring the laughs, the smiles, and the epic shoey celebrations! carlossainz55 hold up! I'm the perfect candidate for the godfather gig. think about it - I'll bring the spanish flair, the fiestas, and the best paella you've ever tasted landonorris sorry guys, but it's clear that I'm the most qualified for this role. I'll be the cool, fun-loving godfather who introduces the kid to the world of gaming, memes, and, of course, helmet design maxverstappen1 alright, alright, boys. I hate to break it to you, but we've already made our decision, and none of you made the cut carlossainz55 WHAT?? danielricciardo we were friends, max and y/n 😭 landonorris who is better than me??? alex_albon I feel betrayed

verstlercs I'M SCREAMING, CRYING, AND FREAKING OUT

f1number1 leclerc-verstappen family, something nobody saw coming

scuderiaferrari oh, we all know this little one is destined to be a future ferrari driver! welcome to the scuderia, baby leclerc-verstappen!

redbullracing this little racer is definitely going to join the red bull family and experience the thrill of flying on the track! get ready for some high-speed action! scuderiaferrari dream on, red bull! our legacy and history speak for themselves. this baby will be rocking the prancing horse on their chest, just like their talented uncles! redbullracing talent? speed? innovation? that's what red bull stands for! This little champion will be tearing up the circuits in our car, guaranteed! charles_leclerc can I place my bet? I say the baby will race for ferrari, just like their dear old uncle charles! maxverstappen1 sorry, bro! the baby will follow in their old man's footsteps and race for red bull. it's in their blood!

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classiccowboy · 6 months ago

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instagram j.b.

Summary: follow along with joe and his wife evie as they go through his football career.

*face claim is yasmin quintana*

series masterlist

joeyb_9

liked by evie, bengals, and 607,427 others

joeyb_9: my first dump

view all 7,629 comments…

sam_hubbard_: excellent

charmin: First dump huh, we got you covered. 🤝

> evie: ohhh. this is crazyyyy! 🤣

user: I LOVE THIS POST

evie: big dumps only. make sure you wash your hands after.

> joeyb_9: if there’s one thing i’m good at it’s post dump hygiene.

user: the arms?????

user: chess king

evie

liked by millyg, joeyb_9, and 910,003 others

evie: like we were in paris..

view all 3,201 comments…

user: i’m obsessed with you guys

millyg: i double tapped every pic bc well i love you

> evie: not the triple double tap!!! 💗💗

user: do you follow him everywhere

> evie: he typically goes to football practice alone.. so nope.

joeyb_9: i was taken by the view..

> evie: careful jb your swiftie is showing.

> user: it’s okay ev, we already know he secretly loves her.

> joeyb_9: i only know the words because evangeline has listened to it no less than 500 times since we landed..

user: does joe always have to make an appearance in your posts?

> evie: i mean.. he’s like.. idk.. my husband??

user: yes yes yes

> evie: xoxo

joeyb_9

liked by evie, lahjay10_, and 690,720 others

joeyb_9: with @voguemagazine doing some new things

view all 6,829 comments…

nfl: 🔥🔥🔥

user: gosh i love u

evie: babe literally who gave you the right

obj: Brrrrrrrddddd

user: @evie tell us the tea.. did he have the bracelets on under the suit?

> evie: 👀

user: joey you know exactly what you’re doing

> evie: yes, he does.

user: this is great on so many levels

user: very chic joe!

user: MY MY MY WHAT DO WE HAVE HERE

> evie: a major hottie

user: ev how do you handle the epic levels of thirst under joes posts?

> evie: i just can’t really blame anyone.. i mean 🥵

evie

liked by joeyb_9, lahjay10_, and 890,826 others

evie: pasta 10/10

view all 703 comments…

user: you are perfect

millyg: MRS worldwide

> evie: angel face.. come see me soon.

user: eating good huh?

> evie: eating GREAT actually

joeyb_9: 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

> evie: lovie 💗

user: i remember when you used to do lives eating mcdonald’s in bed, now you’re eating pasta in paris!!

> evie: dreams really do come true..

> user: don’t act like you got yourself here, you’ve been piggy backing off joe for years.

> evie: yes, i’ve been using my HUSBAND for years to get rich and famous (even though when we started dating he was a backup qb). go to therapy.

> user: eat them up bby.

evie

liked by joeyb_9, bengals, and 567,129 others

evie: i’m so in love that i might stop breathing

view all 5,829 comments…

millyg: damn near 10 years together and you’re sooo obsessed with each other. it’s sick.. and precious.

> evie: quit being so jealous mills. you know i love you too.

user: i am SOBBING

> evie: me. too.

user: i want to be you when i grow up

user: happy sunday, you deserve this love.

> evie: i’ll do everything in my power to make sure i keep deserving it.

joeyb_9: forever and ever x

> evie: never gonna change. 💗

lahjay10_: oh burrow is going to be obsessing over this

> user: @ all the people who complain about her posting him too much. he loves it shut up.

> evie: you said it 😅

evie’s stories:

*tell a friend to tell a friend…. she’s baaaaack!!! i just couldn’t stay away from evie for long, idk how often i’ll update these throughout the season but they will be coming sporadically. meanwhile, send requests!

#joe burrow #nfl #nfl imagine #bengals #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow insta au #joe burrow instagram

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critter-of-habit · 8 months ago

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So I met Jessica Madsen (Bridgerton's Cressida Cowper) on the weekend and she is now one of my favourite people 🥹

Got her autograph, sat in on her panel, and thanks to encouragement from a new friend I also went along to a special lil event and got to chat with Jess over dinner for 2 hours 🫠 It was her, Sam Phillips (who plays Lord Debling and is also a joy of a human) me and 7 other lovely folk.

They were both really relaxed and chatted openly about the show - both love the change to Michaela and that there will be more queer rep. They asked which order of Bridgerton siblings we thought the show would be going with and seemed really amused at our guesses (I dont know if they even know what the order is themselves, they were playing very coy about it 😅).

A highlight of the night tho was early on I mentioned that I had to drive 2 hours to get home afterwards, and didn't think she even heard me. But then when she was leaving she touched my shoulder and told me "drive safe!" And I just 🫠 - so sweet she remembered 😭

Anyway, I am now forever a Cressida defender, my girl can do no wrong and deserves the world

#like it was a full 2 hours so there was SO much said #cant repeat all of it #and wont repeat a few things cos 👀#but it was amazing and i love her #oh i asked about the ice cream scene #tho i think other people did at the con too but nice to hear about it directly lol #she just loves Cressida so very much #and Sam is so invested in the show and Debling too #he has a whole back story for him #hes a truly lovely person too #hope he comes back next season #and i hope jess comes back for another con!#this was her first ever i hope she had a good time #i think she did #oh i dont have any photos from the dinner cos we werent allowed #but there was a group photo taken we just havent gotten it yet #i need some proof i didnt imagine it 😂😂#cressida cowper

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anjautembear · 3 months ago

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Helloo. So this is my first post and I had this idea in my head after I listend to a song. English isn't my first language so sorry if there are spelling errors or sentences that don't make a lot of sence😅. I hope to the readers that read this like this as much as I do and sorry again if it doesn't make sence >_<. OKAY on to the story!!

Warning: Angst baby

Inspired by the song: All i want by kodaline

All i want is nothing more

To hear you knocking at my door

He watches the door, hoping that she would walk threw it, greating him with that loving smile she always had, that still haunts him. He still hopes after weeks, but deep down he knows.

'Cause if I could see your face once more

I could die as a happy man I'm sure

He misses her, her face is starting to blur in his memory of her, but he wishes to go back. He wishes that he took her face in detail, if he only knew, that she would no longer be here, he would have printed her loving gaze in his mind.

When you said your last goodbye

The day of her death, is the day he wishes that never happend, the day that cancer took her from him, a sickness he so hates, a day that will haunt him forever.

The sound of a heartmonitor beeping in the background, the doctors and nurces shoes squeking on the floor outside, people talking, the sound of the wind blowing outside, the autum air blowing threw the curtains. Her favourite season.

But all those noises are blurred, for his soulfocus, was her, his beloved, his wife. He remembers holding her hand so tight for he feared she would pass to soon, slip from his fingers. His hold is tight but not too tight, for he didn't want to brake her. She was already thin and fragile. He still hates that feeling of her thin hand holding his and not the once healthy hand. Cancer was a true nightmare.

Her last words, the words that haunt him still, her fairwell greating, was a request. She requested that he should move on, marry another, find a new person that would treat him well. That she still and would love him. She hates that she is dying but does not want her beloved to suffer when she's gone. Her last and final words,

"You were a wonderful experience, I loved every minute with you. You were the reason for my every smile...I think...I'm ready to go home..with a smile and the memorys of us. Please look after youself...please."

I died a little bit inside

As his tears fall after she said those words, her final breath was taken, and she was gone. Like the autum leaves she so loved, her soul being carried away, back home. Her final smile with one tear falling, will always haunt him. His tears mimicking hers, but a waterfall. His heart stoped beating that day, like hers, for his heart shatter after she ripped the bandage clean.

I lay in tears in bed all night

As he lays in his ice cold bed, that no longer has her sent and warmf. He stares at the picture of their wedding day next to his bed. He still hasn't taken it off. His lifeless eyes staring at her bright smile, her wedding dress blowing in the spring wind. Memorys of her laughter, a sickening reminder, of his regrets of not marrying her sooner.

Alone without you by my side

He can no longer sleep, he can't, he tried multible times. But he can't sleep without her warm body next to his. So he holds her pillow, that no longer has her sent, the perfume bottle she once used ,empty after he used it to remind him of her.

But if you loved me

Why'd you leave me?

He doesn't know who to blame, himself, for not meating her sooner, cancer, a sickness that took her, or her, who left him a broken mess. A broken man who can't fix himself without her.

Take my body

Take my body..

All I want is

All I need is..

He felt like he should have been the one who left, he should be the one burried 6 feet under ground, he should be the one cold in the coffen, instead of his beloved, who didn't deserve it.

She was a bright light in a room full of dull lamps, he only saw her in a room full of people. But now she's a light no longer there, he is lost in the dark room. She is now no longer in the room full of people, he is surching, but she's already in the train of no return.

He needs her...but he no longer has her to save him

To find somebody

I'll find somebody

He tells himself he'll find another light, another person in the crowd, but deep down he knows that will never happen. She was the only 'somebody' he loved. But he'll try for her, he promised.

Ooh oh

Memorys flash his mind. The day they met, bumping into eachother, on a cold autum day. He remembers how pretty she looked, how her hair framed her face, her flushed cheeks in the cold air. Her smile. Her smile he so loved.

Memorys flash in his mind. The day he preposed, the ring that gleamed in the setting sun. Her tears of joy rolling down her soft warm cheeks he so loved to kiss in the morning. Her eyes gleaming, resembling the ring, the ring he will no longer use.

Memorys flash in his mind. The day of their wedding. Tears of joy and laughter in the air of close friends, but the only laugh he heard, was hers, his wife, his other soul.

Memorys flash now...regret coming back. The day of her funeral. The rain pooring down, her coffen laying there, her favourite flower ontop. Haunting him. Mocking him, mocking him that he will no longer be able to give those same flowers to her on valentimes-day.

Cause you brought out the best of me

A part of me i'd never seen

He never thought that he could be loved, he always saw himself as the worst version of himself. But that all changed when she showed up in his life unexpectedly. She showed him parts of himself he has never seen before. She changed him into a better person. He never new he had these sides to him but she showed him like a hidden chapter between sticky pages glued together that he hid.

You took my soul and wiped it clean.

He was never a relegious person but she came to his life like a saint and changed his soul for the better. She saved him when he was stuck in a dark void of emptyness and anger. He worshiped her love like a person in church.

Our love was made for movie screens

If their love life was a movie. He was sure that everyone would have loved her as much as he did. They would have seen how deep their love was, how inlove he was. But he geasses that not every movie has a happy ending. There love story had a plot twist not even he could see coming.

Ooh, if you loved me

Why'd you leave me

Take my body

All I want is..

All I need is..

To find somebody

I'll find somebody

Like you, ooh

He promised himself, he promised you, that he would move on. Find somebody that would love him like you did, but he can't. He would have to brake that promise. He can't move on, you were his somebody...

Thank you for reading this, I hope this wasn't a bad story😅. Bye bye!!

Edit: Wow! I didn't think people would actually read this and like this post. Thanks for the love guys!!🫶🏻🫶🏻

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moonbaby26 · 2 months ago

Text

Title: Breeding Grounds

(Chapter 20 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Chapter Pairings: Doflamingo x Fem!Reader

Chapter Warnings: language, animal behavior/breeding comparisons, but otherwise pretty clean actually except for some nudity, petting, and kissing. in other words, reader finally gets a little break? *gasp!* 😅

Chapter Synopsis: Doflamingo had made prior arrangements to personally pickup the serum he commissioned from Caesar for you. But on a whim, or perhaps a growing need to never be parted, the Heavenly Demon decides you’ll be accompanying him on this trip as well.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21

Fic Masterlist

——————————

It was only one day since the news had first broken worldwide about Doflamingo’s marriage proposal to you and his resetting of your relationship’s chaotic timeline in the colosseum.

Just one day since that man had cornered you in an oversized closet and confessed to killing his own marine double agent of a brother in supposed self defense, while in the very next breath saying he wanted to make a family with you instead.

Only one damn day since you were made to swallow pool water and further irritate your injuries, only to swim to him and force his paralyzed body out of harm’s way just as he’d intended.

“You still refuse to read about us?” Doflamingo’s taunting voice now carried from the bathroom, in reference to that newest newspaper on the nightstand.

“I was there. I don’t need to read Morgans’ take on it.” You answered only because you felt you had to. Doflamingo would just press more if you didn’t.

And the warlord’s resulting chuckle came easily through that still open bathroom door. “Public perception is all part of the game, love. Don’t discount its uses so easily.”

He had been up long before dawn. Back and forth between this royal suite and his office down the hall you assumed.

But he’d insisted on you waking and showering with him. So you now lay on the bed afterward, still wet and watching him with instinctive caution.

His back was to you, not a piece of clothing or towel to cover him at all. Purposeful you were sure as he stood before the full length mirror, performing such a disconcerting imitation of a normal man’s routine.

You could see his tight ass of course, his waist, and the backs of his thighs. All toned and far too perfect while he just made small talk with you like it was something normal, moving a long razor blade up along his throat and jaw as he did.

The Heavenly Demon was shaving.

And you couldn’t yet admit that whatever thick cream he’d lathered along his skin had smelled amazing too before you’d come over here to wait on his bed.

Yes, you supposed you’d never seen even a hint of blond stubble across that lean face. As far back as you could possibly remember he’d always looked clean and well groomed.

But it didn’t make it comfortable to witness.

Still wholly bothersome to you somehow as Doflamingo tilted his face this way and that, getting every contour carefully with that blade.

Maybe it felt better to him than his strings. Maybe he preferred the moisturizing aspect of the lather or its scent as well. Maybe he just liked to feel pampered.

Yet even a view of the best ass in Dressrosa, both literally and figuratively, couldn’t distract you forever.

Your mind was still churning, wondering what fresh trauma really awaited you next.

“Doffy.” You said, with your hand tightening into the bedsheet.

And you saw his head turn. Just enough for his good eye to look back at you. He was wiping the bottom of his face with a washcloth after rinsing off the razor blade by then.

“When are you going to let me use a phone again?” You asked somewhat without warning. But quieter than he deserved. Because you still weren’t wanting to fight again yet. You had to recover at some point. You had to at least try to anyway.

But he had taken your snail after the incident with Crocodile. And you’d noticed his own snails were never left alone with you.

He was controlling all lines of communication out of this castle. Even as he’d made such a show of claiming to trust you at the pool yesterday.

But Doflamingo didn’t say anything back at first. He tossed that washcloth, leaving it for the maids to clean up later. And then he was walking towards you out of the bathroom.

You still weren’t used to how fast he could really cross a room. Even if he was in no particular hurry with those long legs.

“My eyes are up here, darling.” He chided, watching you intently.

Your eyebrows lowered at the callout. “Well, wear underwear for once.” You retorted. His length was swinging with his strides even at full rest. “Who wouldn’t look?”

“I don’t like underwear.” He smiled, pleased for the acknowledgement of his size. “It chafes.” But his equally uncovered eyes glinted with the hint of further mischief. “I can stand something smaller though. G-strings and thongs aren’t so bad. Care to see some examples?”

“You’re trying to change the subject.” You correctly pointed out at that, though with an embarrassing heat creeping into your face regardless.

“Nice mental image isn’t it?” Doflamingo reached the bed’s edge with another taunt, before turning and flopping right onto his back beside you.

It actually made you come off of the bed just that slight amount as the force of his weight went briefly through the springs below.

You splayed one hand out behind you for balance, somewhat sitting up. And then his still wet hair was in your equally naked lap as he rolled over onto you.

“You really should be looking at this like a vacation instead of manufacturing things to complain about.” He fussed a little, but with no real bite to it before a string picked up your other hand to set it onto his face.

“Stop doing that.” You huffed.

“Then learn to take a hint. I told you I get headaches on the left side.” He moved his face, that blind eye partly closed while he pushed his temple further against your palm.

“You’re having one right now?” You asked skeptically. He was going to do anything to keep from discussing his clear isolation of you, wasn’t he?

“Just help me.” He sounded more impatient there, edging back towards petulance.

But you were stubborn too, even though you still had to be careful. You kept talking even as your fingers did move by your own freewill then. You massaged Doflamingo’s temple and into his high hairline above that milky left eye. “Are you going to let me contact HQ again or not?”

Both his eyes started to close fully as you’d rubbed him. He only frowned a little when you’d still spoken.

“You just can’t leave a good thing alone, can you?” He asked. But noticeably relaxed despite the retort, letting your hand continue to work. “Careful what you wish for, darling. Because you may just get it.” He continued. “I didn’t tell you. But I decided we’re going out today. And you won’t be the only white coat once we get there.”

————————————

“He’s off island? Where?” Vergo questioned, albeit in his usual monotone.

“The young master left for Punk Hazard earlier today with that girl. He said he didn’t wish to be disturbed.” Gladius answered with similar evenness.

But Vergo did hesitate briefly at that on the other side of the snail, considering the weight of this new information. “It’s risky to go there now. The rank and file are already up in arms about all of this. Did he give a reason?”

“No. It seemed impromptu. One of his whims. But I assume he doesn’t like leaving her alone here with us either. Not after what happened before.”

At this suggestion, Vergo did finally offer a little more emotion in his words. It was a tone of judgement towards his fellow officers actually. “Yes. I heard about Trebol’s screw up. He should have known to wait for Doffy, and not to take anything into his own hands when it comes to her any longer.”

“Yes. But it has been just one thing after another since the young master found her again.” Gladius had always liked routine and order. The last few months had been far from that.

“Doffy always knows what he wants. He’s invested so much into this already. It’s our responsibility to support him no matter what.” Vergo contended, voice getting even a bit more stern in response.

“Yes, Vergo-san.” Whether Gladius added that term for the more senior officer out of genuine respect or just the new wish to hurry the call along was unclear.

“But that’s not what I called about. I wanted to warn him about Orlinde.” Vergo carried on regardless.

“What about it? That’s already done.”

“No, it isn’t. Because whatever amateurs you hired to take care of it are now leading a trail right back to Doffy.”

And at only this was Gladius then at concerned attention while Vergo continued.

“After they left Orlinde, your hires apparently decided it’d be best to go get drunk on a nearby island and start running their mouths. The navy already had informants all over those bars. One of which reported that a crew was bragging about getting paid well recently for a big job in the area. A young crew with smiling faces tattooed on more than one of them.”

“Goddammit.” Gladius’ quill like hair began to lengthen already as his fist tightened near the snail on the table. “It was that fool Bellamy then. He can’t control his own people! I’ll have to deal with it.”

Yet there was another pause on the other end of the call to this.

“The Bellamy Pirates? What about them?” Vergo questioned, abruptly puzzled in that infuriating way he could sometimes be.

To which Gladius only bristled further, no longer having time for this at all. “You just said it, Vergo! Young idiots with our jolly roger! Who else would that be? Bellamy the Hyena was who we sent to burn down Orlinde!”

The snail quieted yet again.

“But that isn’t who the navy has identified on these reports right here in my hand. By the time a marine ship got to the port that the informants said these pirates were docked, some kind of fight was already going on. The only vessel seen with a smiling jolly roger escaped beneath the surface before the marine ship could stop them. A yellow submarine.”

“The Bellamy pirates don’t have a damn submarine. The young master would never waste that kind of beri on them.”

“I’m aware. This report says some new group called the Heart Pirates are the ones that razed Orlinde to the ground. Because they were the ones that escaped in the submarine. I don’t yet have any photos of their jolly roger or that vessel though. But no one else in the marine files has a smiling face quite like Doffy’s for their signet to get confused for his. So I assumed…”

“Never heard of them. And if they’re really using our symbol without permission, then they’re already dead. No one gets to do that.”

“Hmm.” Vergo still sounded contemplative. “If you truly don’t know them, I’ll look into this further then. Maybe it is just a lucky case of misidentification. And they can take the blame instead.”

“Maybe.” Gladius offered, beginning to calm down at the idea that this may not be the level of problem it had originally seemed.

“Oh, I’ll make sure the evidence points the way we want in the end.” Vergo confirmed though. With falsifying things to pin a crime on a whole other pirate group not being beneath him either. “Don’t tell Doffy for now then. He’s busy enough. I’ll figure out who these Heart Pirates are and get back to you.”

———————————

He had given you no real choice of course. Lingering at the open window in his bedroom not so very long ago.

You were either going to get into his arms like a good girl. Or he would have thrown you out of that window to start this journey anyway. Though, perhaps more gently than at the pool yesterday.

Because Doflamingo was in a very good mood. Again riding these highs of having so many successes all at once.

He had you soundly in his possession. There was already a ring on your finger and a marriage certificate on file in Mariejois. The newspapers were still clamoring to explain it all. And the final piece was now what he was on his way to Punk Hazard to acquire.

Also, he knew the Nefertaris had tried to call yesterday to extend some sort of invitation to the two of you. He knew Tsuru had abandoned her post in Lyra and that her warship was now at full sail on its way to Dressrosa.

Everyone was reacting to him.

But no one was stopping him.

He stayed rather low on his flight path this time. Not too high over the ocean, where the air was still warm as it rushed past you both.

He was doing his best to slow down and smooth out the transitions from one set of strings to the next. Keeping the ride far less bumpy as he released one group of strings just to be pulled further on by the subsequent ones which ran all the way up to the clouds.

There was so much precision and timing in every single movement that he doubted you would know to appreciate it as he watched you put your head down against his chest.

Not out of affection he assumed, but just from you trying to turn your face out of the wind again.

Even with the borrowed pair of Baby 5’s goggles that he’d made you protect your eyes with, the nonstop blast of air got tiresome he was sure.

The only thing he didn’t like was how difficult it was to hold a conversation even at these lower speeds. You’d both be yelling over the wind, and that would hamper the romantic mood he would prefer to be setting.

Doflamingo knew well the risks of bringing you with him today. But, after seeing that protective look in your eyes yesterday as you’d forced his paralyzed body up from the pool steps, and now knowing Tsuru would be here soon…he didn’t want to lose any moment he had left to really be alone with you.

Even in exchange for the much shorter time it would have taken him to go to Punk Hazard alone on his errand at full speed.

And this was now an excuse to spend more time with you in slightly more neutral territory.

It was a date.

Which he was considering as having already begun as he leaned his head back down as well. He kissed the top of yours when you’d buried it against him now.

Doflamingo could generate strings from any part of his body. He didn’t need his hands free to keep pulling against the clouds. Nor did he need to hold you up at all though. He’d already put plenty of near invisible tethers between your body and his so that you couldn’t have fallen this time even if you’d tried.

Your bodies were practically stitched together as one of his hands massaged down your back again.

He felt you squirm a bit as his fingers had teased down either side of your spine, and that made him smile.

He knew you hated this lack of control. And being told what to do and where to go by him all the time now.

Very soon you’d understand that everything had a purpose though. And that he could reward you just as easily as he could punish you.

Yet today was meant to be a reward.

———————————

You’d never known yourself to be afraid of heights. You could climb a ship’s rigging as quickly as anyone. Far up above deck with only seagulls to then keep you company as you’d helped to make repairs whenever needed.

Yet this was wholly different. And your stomach couldn’t seem to forget the last time you’d been dropped all the way from the clouds.

Doflamingo had told you to dress for duty. Back in your full marine attire, the white fabric fluttering as you now stayed coiled against his open shirt.

And he’d practically thrown a bag you’d never seen before at you earlier, telling you to carry it while he carried you.

Yet he’d been grinning all the while as he’d opened the bedroom window and hopped onto the windowsill like an overgrown spider to beckon you to him.

He hadn’t said where he was taking you. Only that there would be other marines there. Of course that only left so many options in your mind.

Yet all you’d known for sure is that what started as an invitation would have become an absolute demand if you hadn’t taken his hand as you’d eventually stepped up into that open window with him.

The last time you’d flown together, it’d been sunset and soon nighttime. So even through Baby 5’s slightly scratched goggles, you’d gotten to briefly see a much clearer aerial view of Dressrosa today.

With his hand cupping your ass just against the bottom edge of your skirt all the while anyway. You’d had to ignore his pressing fingers copping a feel even as the city and then the outer cliff face of Dressrosa had passed beneath you both to leave only open ocean again.

There wasn’t much talking after that either. Just the rush of air and the occasional sound of his strings plucking and snapping as he forced the two of you along.

But he never quit rubbing you, touching you. Maybe not even willfully at times. He would look up sometimes from the distraction of you though, like checking on the clouds that were still in the distance.

He was charting his path you thought, confirming it as still passable. Weather could change in the New World so quickly.

Even the biggest ships could get into trouble fast when things went wrong. Yet you never thought for a moment that someone like him wouldn’t have contingency plans.

Doflamingo seemed perfectly at ease.

Enough so that you’d finally tired of watching only open water. You’d put your face back against him fully to get it more out of the wind.

And then you’d felt him kiss the top of your head in response.

Those wandering fingers had teased along your spine not long after too, pressing just hard enough to make you nearly shiver.

He was clearly enjoying this.

But were you?

Well…he wasn’t hurting you. You weren’t fighting one another. And no one was yelling or specifically upset in this moment.

You could still feel the rhythm too when he moved from the tension of one batch of strings to the next. But after awhile it was more like coasting over gentle swells of waves rather than being jarred too much this way or that.

Like being in your bunk during an easy day at sea. It was comfortable.

It almost felt safe.

—————————

“Wake up, sailor. Land ahoy.” Doflamingo’s voice rumbled against your ear.

And you weren’t asleep. But you hadn’t moved for long enough that you couldn’t be insulted at his assumption as you did open your eyes.

Your head was back up, gaze focusing through those goggles for so much vibrant green to be the very first thing of note in the far distance.

And no boat traffic below at all as you tried to identify where in the hell you now were.

But Doflamingo suddenly banked left before you could think much more about it, making you grab his shirt in reflex as if that would have actually done anything to help you.

He laughed immediately when you’d startled, his altitude dropping while that lush jungle rushed closer and closer.

You still saw no identifying landmarks, yet he seemed to know exactly where he was going.

“We’ll head around the back side.” His lips were nearly to your ear again, voice just loud enough to be heard before palm fronds were soon rustling in his wake beneath the two of you.

And then you saw the first security fence pass below in a blur. And another and another, bisecting the thick jungle in seemingly random intervals.

About the same time that you heard a mechanical wail far in the distance. A type of siren you easily recognized then.

It was a marine security alarm as that mix of additional surprise and possibly even dread settled within you.

There was only one place this could then be within the range you could guess you now might be from Dressrosa.

But your transportation only chuckled darkly to that new noise. “Heh, they’ve added better snail cams then. Coming in this way used to work fine. Though I am usually faster than this…”

And he rolled, slowing further with those words. But still flying the two of you along as he reached within his feather coat. He pulled out a baby snail, waking it as he keyed in a quick number on its shell.

Doflamingo’s other arm tightened further around your waist, still holding you like a bad habit while that snail trilled for a bit.

As soon as the line did connect, the siren could also be heard louder in the background from it before a flustered voice broke through.

“Hell- oh, turn those damn things off already! I can’t hear! Hello!?” The mystery voice complained loudly.

“It’s me. I tripped the sensors.” Doflamingo spoke right over the other voice. “Tell them to calm their asses down, Caesar.”

“Ah, Jo-,” The voice sounded even more excitable then. “I mean, Doflamingo! But…you’re early!”

“Heh.” You saw that cocky little smirk you already knew too well. “Is that a problem? I won’t be coming by the lab until later though. We’re heading for the lake right now.”

“Wha…we?” The other was struggling to keep up. The sirens were still going off fully in the background.

“Me and my fiancée of course. We’re just taking a little break from the paparazzi and all our well wishers back home. So keep your nosy bodyguards inside.”

——————————

“I absolutely do not have clearance to be here. Just so you know.” Were the first words out of your mouth as your boots finally met the ground again. You were very glad to remove the goggles as well, pulling them down to hang around your neck so that you wouldn’t have to carry them.

That thick jungle initially seen from above was now what you were both standing within.

Everything looked the same though. It’d be so easy to become lost you were sure.

But Doflamingo was just grinning once more as he now shouldered the mystery bag he’d had you carrying the entire time before now.

“Welcome to Punk Hazard, love. Home of unspoiled wilds, diverse flora and fauna, and the most egregious of the World Government’s human experimentation.”

You didn’t fail to notice the almost chipper way he’d said that last part too. But he just began to walk afterward, expecting you to follow.

Doflamingo’s head was down and slightly forward to keep from scraping against all those palm fronds and vines in the dense overhang of foliage.

He really didn’t care about your clear worries of not belonging here though. But why would he? He was a warlord. In all honesty, this island was likely considered part of his own jurisdiction to protect. If something went very wrong here, Doflamingo would be the nearest government weapon to call in to handle it.

But to only a captain like you, even setting foot at a place like this was all a bit much. Initially at least. Maybe nothing was really too insane to you any longer once it had enough time to settle. Yet you still couldn’t help but ask, looking up as you had to move quicker to keep pace with his longer strides. “Is Dr. Vegapunk actually here today?”

And Doflamingo scoffed a little at your continued worry. “Why? Are you a fan of his or something? He’s still just a man. An oversized brain floating around in a bag of meat like all the rest.”

“Lovely.” You answered with a roll of your eyes to that, stepping over tree roots while Doflamingo cut more brush out of the way with a few flicks of his fingers.

“Don’t blame me for unpleasant truths. But shut up for a minute.” He chided anyway as if his voice wasn’t still the louder of the two of you. “I landed out here so we wouldn’t scare them off.”

Them?

And he was starting to crouch further as he still moved forward, like an apex predator now lurking through the jungle.

But he reached back, taking you by the hand again.

Which was still a gesture that did something to you every time his larger hand closed that warmly around your smaller one.

Doflamingo was soon pulling you along, his thumb rubbing across your skin as he did so. Like it wasn’t even a choice any longer, but a reflex or a need for him.

That simple touch distracting enough to you actually that you were watching his grip instead of straight ahead, and bumped into him when he abruptly stopped again.

“Look. There’s a damn hoard of them out here today.” His voice was quieter then as he ignored your having just run into him. He pulled you around in front, to peer through the sudden end to all the trees.

There was a very large clearing just ahead. Flat in comparison to all else, with a body of brilliant blue water framed against even more jungle rising steep behind it.

This had to be the lake he’d spoken of to the person on the phone.

And the “them” were apparently the peppering of tall pink all throughout those tranquil shallows as your eyes widened.

A small sound of disbelief left your throat. Even if you knew better than to give in this quickly. You were still in uniform. You were still at one of the most infamous facilities in all the world. This was not shore leave or the time to goof around.

But you had never seen even a single one in person. Your home island had had no zoos. And even books could only be read if stolen by you.

If you hadn’t seen something yet in your time sailing with Tsuru, then you hadn’t seen it at all.

And oh, how Doflamingo must have realized that from the depth of your reaction as his smile grew from ear to ear. “I told you I didn’t keep any at the palace. But I never said I didn’t know where to find them.”

He crouched down further too, squatting almost to be more at your eye level. “You know, we never got all three of our days in Scylla like we’d planned to either. We got shorted on visiting their aviary and gardens together. So consider this my substitution until we can go back there, darling…let’s relax a while and enjoy it.”

And at that, he moved back past you gently, still keeping his full height lowered as he lead you out by the hand.

The two of you soon crossed a stretch of soft grass together to reach the banks of the lake.

Many slender necks rose up to watch your approach, but the birds did not take flight.

“I’ve only ever flown over this valley, not stopped at it. No humans come out this far from the labs. These birds may not even know what the hell we are.” Doflamingo reasoned quietly, still smiling as he looked out over that water and all the examples of his very namesake within it.

He and you both were keeping your movements slow and deliberate without even needing to discuss it.

You didn’t want them to leave.

But when you were on the bit sandier, yet fully flat bank of the lake, he finally let go of your hand before he slid that mystery bag he’d taken from you earlier off of his shoulder.

You were glancing back and forth, as curious as the birds then while he unzipped it.

“Monet packed this for us. Let’s see how well she did.” He offered, though sounding already pleased and expecting just what he wanted all the while.

The first recognizable thing was a blanket. Very tightly rolled to have fit within the bag. But also impressively large when he stretched it out on the bank.

The fabric was long enough even for him as he then sat on it while continuing to dig through the bag.

“Well come here, love.” He didn’t take long to invite you over either, noticing you still standing there on your own for a moment.

This newest intimate scene was so surreal for you all over again of course. But you did listen. You sat down beside him on that soft blanket while more things kept emerging.

A wine bottle, two cups, and what appeared to be hand wrapped packages of food came out from the bag next.

He opened and laid each thing neatly out too, as purposefully as if setting a table before the two of you on the blanket. There was even silverware that you recognized with his signet on it from the palace.

“How long did you plan this?” You asked with increasing disbelief.

“Hmm?” But you could tell he was trying not to laugh. He was being playful now. “Why would I have to plan time with my own wife?”

And the word remained far too new for you. Even with that engagement ring still on your finger. No one else really knew you’d already signed those papers. That legally you were already wed.

Just legally you thought.

You stared at him long enough though that he smirked again before more legitimately answering. “I had an errand to run here tonight anyway. But I didn’t decide to fly in earlier and make an afternoon of it until this morning. I’ve got a theory that you’re entirely different when I get you alone in neutral territory. Am I on to something with that?”

He was so effortless when he wished to be.

You barely even felt his arm snake around behind you until he’d abruptly pulled you closer. Hip to hip then on the blanket before he bent down to steal a quick kiss.

His face was practically nuzzling yours while he smiled again after. “I have to take care of you too though, don’t I?” He said. “You still barely eat whenever my crew is around. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” And he pinched the flesh of your hip a little. “I’ve already mapped out every curve of yours, darling. I see when you’ve been skipping meals. But I want my woman to have the energy to fuck and fight whenever she likes…”

Even just that much attention brought some new heat to your face too. It was objectification in a way, yet very personal all the same. And he kissed you again, like he couldn’t help it at all as his hand then wandered over your thigh to squeeze that too.

He was massaging the fabric of your leggings beneath your skirt soon enough. As if he’d prefer it not to be there at all while his tongue moved into your mouth.

That embarrassing warmth just kept rising in you too with every further movement of that long muscle against yours. Until finally he broke the deeper kiss like coming up for air. “Damn, that’s not even fair. Trying to distract me again…” He accused. But he was chuckling.

He was enjoying everything actually, kissing you even once more before turning his gaze back to the food from behind those glasses.

“You’ll have to give me your opinion on this. I told the head chef everything I could remember of that ravioli we had in Scylla.” He said to you, then unwrapping the first package of food as he still sat side by side with you on the blanket.

And you stared. Because it did look just like it. The same size and shape entirely while Doflamingo handed you a fork.

Yet he just started opening the wine bottle next while he bid you to have the first taste of that lobster filled delicacy.

“Shit, it’s really good.” You confirmed immediately, after stabbing one and putting it in your mouth to chew. The cream sauce alone was probably something a person could drink if allowed. It was that flavorful.

“But the same kind of good?” He questioned, as if this was suddenly the most important thing in both of your lives.

And it was something else unspoken. You had just stabbed another of those ravioli onto your fork after swallowing your first one. He still had the wine bottle in one hand but was looking only at you.

You didn’t think to do it. You just did it, as you offered that ravioli up to him on your fork. And he took it as if it were second nature, bending down enough for you to feed it to him.

The Heavenly Demon let you move it into his mouth as he gladly accepted it, pulling the cream sauce with it to clean off your fork with his lips.

“Well?” You asked him as his cheeks moved while he chewed. That nagging warmth in your chest still spreading even more while you watched him.

“Fuck, I’m going to have to give him a raise.” Doflamingo answered before even swallowing.

He was right too. About that and more.

Because you were different with him when outside of your normal territories. You both were as he poured the wine next. He had completely relaxed.

And every single piece of that ravioli ended up eaten between the two of you. As well as the dessert he’d also brought.

It was those flowers made of pastry layers overlapping like the petals of a rose. The ones he’d had to tell you the name of again of course. Flores de hojaldre.

He’d remembered that you’d never gotten to actually try one the last time they’d been presented to you, though you had admired them.

During that very first dinner together in his palace. The one that had dissolved into a screaming argument and drugged sex instead that you hadn’t had much say in.

You still knew better than to see this gesture as a real apology though, even as he smirked at you while you’d tried one and messily ended up with a bit of powdered sugar on your face before he’d wiped it off for you.

He ate them far more cleanly than you too as he’d explained how they were made and how he preferred his with powdered sugar and honey, but no fruit. Though he’d said even in Dressrosa recipes varied wildly, with some savory varieties existing as well with fish wrapped into the pastry layers instead.

It’d just been so low stakes by then. Sitting here, drinking wine and talking about pastries of all things while watching the still wary flamingos walking around in the water before he’d finally laid back on the blanket when done eating.

“You really never experienced much as kid, did you. Besides just surviving in that brothel?” He asked you.

A question not entirely unexpected as you looked down at him and his sunglasses now reflecting that sunny sky above.

“We didn’t have pastry chefs, no.” You answered easily. “Or exotic birds.”

He smiled a little again, but it was not a mocking one for once. “I didn’t always have those things either.” He eventually offered back. “I was without them for more years than I had them.”

And you raised an eyebrow. You weren’t sure if he was inviting you to pry further or not. Maybe you were too honest for your own good though.

You weren’t even supposed to be having alcohol while in uniform either. But you finished your cup, finally just damn asking him. “Is your past some kind of big secret or something?”

Yet you then found yourself laying right beside him no sooner than those words had left your mouth.

He hadn’t used strings. Just his arm around your middle again after pulling you down, and his other now back behind his head.

You were both laying there together on the blanket then, looking up at the passing clouds that abruptly.

He rubbed your side before he spoke again. “I had it all. Then I lost it, and I had to fight for it all over again.”

“You were born wealthy?” He didn’t seem defensive. So you just kept going. Tentatively, but still trying to understand more if he’d let you.

“Very.” Was his next simple answer.

And you believed him. You thought of the pet swans he’d once mentioned, and the ways he’d carried himself amongst the other nobles in Scylla. The graceful waltzes and the condescending words to others.

But also his story of being a young boy fleeing violence with his father and brother. Starving in the war torn area where he’d first met Tsuru.

“Did your home country have a revolution?” You asked even more quietly, feeling warm again against him.

The government didn’t always rush in in every case you knew. Sometimes they wanted islands to fall depending what ulterior motives might really be at stake.

They’d left Charybdis crumbling for ages now.

“No.” Doflamingo clarified though. Yet his hand tightened on your hip again. He turned his head so he could look at your face.

You saw yourself in those red glasses again.

“I have more enemies than you realize.” He said instead then, just staying like this beside you. “They’ll be your enemies too if anything takes a turn.”

Your eyebrows furrowed a little. It felt like you’d already experienced that with Crocodile in just the first few days in Dressrosa. But you still asked anyway. “Who?”

Doflamingo turned his face even more then, so that it touched yours. His skin was still quite soft from whatever lather he’d used this morning. His scent was heady and pleasant.

“All the way at the very top, my love.” He teased then, his voice quieting further like these words were truly only for you. “The gods have an axe to grind when it comes to me. And that feeling is entirely mutual.”

“Just because you robbed the Dragons’ tribute ships?” You responded just as quietly, as his lips started to brush your temple.

The sheer balls of that heist only a few years ago had been the final straw that put Doflamingo’s name in everyone’s mouths across all the seas.

You remembered Tsuru being beside herself, furious as she’d cursed in her office when Sengoku had called your crew with the news first. Even before it ever made the newspapers.

The sheer audacity of the Donquixote family to pillage a world government transport ship filled to the brim with beri meant as heavenly tribute had been a terrible embarrassment to the marines at the time.

But that was also the very same stunt that had had Doflamingo bullying his way into the seven warlords’ roster not long after.

And then he’d become a king.

And then he’d taken you.

You were hardly as valuable as the riches owed to the gods, or the ownership of an entire country though.

Yet he seemed so content here and now. At least enough to roll over onto his side, facing you with his whole body then.

He pulled his feather coat around you both, bringing you against his chest. “Oh, they hate me for far more than just taking my cut retroactively.”

It was an odd choice of words, and your face likely said as much.

“Not yet.” Doflamingo smiled to your expression of additional question however, choosing not to explain that particular answer any further. “I only just got you back into a good mood after all.”

“Is that what this is supposed to be? My attitude adjustment?” You countered, accepting that that would be all for now then. But you were also watching that smart mouth hovering near yours again. He was still holding you against his chest, enveloped in pink together.

“Mmhmm.” He purred warmly. “You love this. It’s why you’ve been too busy staring at me instead of noticing what visitors have been creeping up on us all the while. No sudden movements, darling.”

But you raised your head anyway. Not understanding what he meant until you surprised both yourself and the birds.

It must have seemed like your disembodied head abruptly rising from the pink feathers that would otherwise be so familiar to them.

Because there was an immediate flutter of wings, with the curious birds that had gotten this incredibly close then startling as they ran into one another after your surprise movement.

They were all legs, necks, and wings then. But they still didn’t fully leave. They stumbled and bounced off of one another in their confusion. It was the most awkward thing you’d ever seen out of an animal so beautiful.

But that wasn’t the thing that tilted your brain into genuine humor.

It was the sound they made as they did this. They’d been fairly quiet in the distance all the time before, warily watching you both while they’d only walked and fed in the shimmering lake waters.

But in this upset of being frightened enough to fall and stumble, their small exploratory group now broke out into a cacophony of indignant honking.

It was so loud and ridiculous. A sound that didn’t match their exotic, elegant bodies at all. It was as embarrassing as a common goose now having a fit before you.

And you burst out laughing with that unexpected contrast. Which only made them honk more, and you laugh further, feeding one another’s reactions.

You finally had to bury your face against Doflamingo’s shirt to quiet yourself with your shoulders still shaking a little.

His arm tightened around you again as soon as you did, and you could hear that huge smile without looking up.

“Hell, maybe I do need to bring a few home with us then. That’s now only one of two things I’ve ever heard pull a real laugh out of you.”

Yes, you never did this. Not around him at least as you had to regather yourself.

The birds still hung around though after they eventually settled back down. The ice broken so to speak now that they had seen you both up close and neither of you had actually harmed them.

You turned your head to watch them again even as your cheek stayed against the warlord. “I can’t help it…they honk. No book ever said anything about that.” You told him.

And now he chuckled, that lighter kind even though it still rumbled up from his chest. “You’re such a cute little mutt sometimes.”

That term that should have been insulting, wasn’t either right now. Not when you could hear the real pleasure in his own voice still.

The happiness.

Doflamingo was happy.

Yet he was already ready for your full attention again too. His hand came up, catching your jaw to make you lift your head back towards his own.

Enough so that he could kiss you once more. Again and again actually, but slow and soft while the birds remained around you.

And with you both still nestled in all Doflamingo’s pink feathers yourselves, you may as well have been another pair of them here on the lake’s edge. Oblivious to the rest of the world in this brief escape with your partner.

——————————

“You’re a voyeur! I never want to hear your holier than thou admonishments again!” Caesar scolded the other scientist gladly. Not seeming to take into account how fully his own golden eyes had never once looked away from this security monitor now either.

“It’s unexpected isn’t it?” Dr. Vegapunk only answered with a question, not insulted at all as he had stopped holding any weight to Caesar’s habitual outbursts years before now. Of course he was interested in what he was now seeing. But not for the reasons Caesar accused of.

Donquixote Doflamingo had arrived dramatically to the island earlier as he typically did. But after a brief call to announce himself, he’d just stayed to the virgin wilds this time. On the other side of the mountains from the laboratories.

The warlord had never lazed or lingered like this before today. Everything was always business, in and out as fast as possible. And he was always alone.

Yet not right now as Vegapunk and Caesar still watched a distant view of you and the so called Heavenly Demon in one another’s arms, being a bit intimate again while laying on a large blanket.

Even the flamingos had surprisingly accepted this new oddity, just walking around unbothered again and preening or resting near you both on the banks of the lake.

“Is this very strange to you as well Caesar? You know him better, don’t you?” Vegapunk asked that additional question with his brows still furrowed in wrinkles all the way up his tall forehead. “I had assumed she would only be a pawn in his control unwillingly. Yet he doesn’t appear to be using the parasite ability of the String-String fruit.”

And Caesar made a noise, pale face flushing slightly as he saw the pink of Joker’s tongue edge against your face. “Well, maybe she isn’t wholly stupid!” Caesar had always assumed the majority of marines were. Because who would willingly sign up to be fodder for any and all enemies of the government? “She wants to be rich, obviously! The treasury in Dressrosa is worth submitting for!” Caesar projected his own desires with that idea of course.

But Vegapunk still looked doubtful. He was watching far more than the obviously budding hormones and physical aspect of these interactions.

He’d seen the two of you talking and laughing too, though even his advanced snail cams couldn’t pickup the actual words from this far away.

But he could see the gestures and the body language the same as any biologist might while observing courting animal species. While you fed one another, and nested together. It was all a process.

And in the thoroughness of his ever analytical mind, Vegapunk was determining this as an anomaly. An already mated pair on far more equal footing and with a higher level of consent than the two of you had any natural right to have.

Because he now knew what Doflamingo really was. It was all over those incestuous lineage factors he’d stayed up all night sifting more thoroughly through.

The Donquixote name itself, and even the epithet of Heavenly Demon were obvious clues to begin with. But names could be falsified, public personas created at random.

The real proof was in the fact that there was only one land in all the world with exactly those same poor genetics, brought on from centuries of no immigration and no mixing of bloodlines outside of an original nineteen families.

Vegapunk had never seen a Celestial Dragon who could accept the company of a human in this way.

This was something new.

“Caesar, go ahead and call that man to tell him his medicines are ready early. But I want to have a private word with him before they leave.”

———————————

T⨂ BE

CONTINUED

———————————

Thanks for reading!

Author’s Note: Yes, Punk Hazard (pre Caesar blowing it up anyway) does have a flamingo lake! 🥰 It was one of my greatest joys to find out. Even though it’s probably just an anime filler scene. It’s shown in Brownbeard’s flashback. Episode 589, timestamp 13:36.

Also, those flower pastries…I am obsessed with the google images of them. I want one. 😩

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