#soul(mate)s of light asks

[harukadrawsthings]

To Destiny:

Which Eeveelution is your favorite?

[smutoperator]

https://x.com/viraltakes/status/1869332739666952488?t=Zfac8LL4WQ7MI68zQpfQGQ&s=19

PLAP PLAP!PLAP!

Get pregnant!

PLAP PLAP!PLAP!

Get pregnant!

Motherhood Dreams

Jeon Soyeon x Male Reader

Tags: apartment sex, belly bulging, feet play, floor sex, horny girl, impregnation, mating press, ovulation, prone bone, public nudity, riding, rough sex, sex with a stranger, (lots of) sloppy blowjobs, submissive and clingy, tiny and pretty girl

Word count: 3562

Alone in her apartment, Soyeon felt like this was the day she needed to fulfill her dreams of becoming a mother. She couldn't wait anymore, feeling her body aching as her sex drive only increased while she started experiencing ovulation. She had to get herself pregnant as soon as possible.

Soyeon went outside her apartment, wearing only a coat to deal with the freezing Seoul weather and her lingerie. She was truly determined to find the first guy on the street and make him impregnate her. Walking across a street, she didn't see the red light, forcing you to slam on the brakes as your car almost hit her.

"WHAT THE FUCK? COME ON, YOU CAN'T CROSS ON A RED LIGHT," you screamed at her. "I'm sorry," a very needy Soyeon answered, a couple of tears flowing from her eyes. Despite her tough image and strong leadership, Soyeon is a very soft person who always feels embarrassed when she makes a mistake. "It's fine," you told her.

"Can you take me back home?" Soyeon asked. "Sure," you promptly answer her. "Just type your address on the GPS," you told her. Soyeon did that, quickly opening your car's windows in spite of the freezing weather, popping half her tiny body out of it. "This girl is crazy," you said, but she couldn't hear it, as your radio was blasting her group's song "Fate." Fitting, as it felt like she could only avoid getting hit and being taken back home thanks to some improbable combination of events.

Soyeon was feeling so wild and horny she took her bra off, flashing her perky little tits in the open and then middle fingering some random driver in a tunnel. She truly felt like she was in the sky right now, completely untouchable and not caring about her surroundings, only focused on one thing: getting herself pregnant.

As you finally reached the parking lot of her apartment, Soyeon quickly made her moves, getting close to you and pushing your head as you kissed her neck and massaged her bare tits. You could tell her body was boiling as an effect of her ovulation. Soon she dropped on her knees, unzipping your pants with the strength of a hungry lion, getting your cock ready with a very short soul-sucking blowjob. she stopped as soon as she felt your precum rising. "Let's go inside, you better save this cum to get me pregnant," she said.

"Carry me, please," a needy Soyeon said shortly after. You were still confused but enjoyed what that hungry woman had to offer, following her orders and putting her tiny body on top of your right shoulder, dropping her at the apartment's front door as Soyeon opened it and smiled at you. You were impressed at the size of it, as she pinned herself against the wall close to the stairs and started giving you very hot kisses and touching your body from top to bottom, paying special attention to the hard cock under your pants she had tasted a few moments ago.

"Take me here; I want to be your fucktoy until you breed me," Soyeon said, pointing to the stairs as she put her arms behind her back and let you grab them as she let you pin her against the handrail. The roaring lion knew quite well how to be a submissive kitten, and this is what Soyeon wanted to be tonight, just a needy girl who wanted her pussy to be turned into a cum dump.

You give Soyeon's ass a little spanking. "Hmmmmm," she softly moaned, already feeling very sensitive, but quickly reacted as she started grinding it against your clothed crotch, instantly making you throb hard. You could tell that woman was very experienced and had an insane sex drive, and just by that quick blowjob she had given you at that parking lot, you could already tell this could be an amazing night.

You tossed your shirt on the ground as Soyeon kissed you, and you grabbed her waist while she kept grinding her ass against you. Quickly, you took her panties down and spread her ass cheeks, diving your face in it, licking both her holes. "Uhhhh shit, oh my god," she moaned once again and laughed as you gave her ass another little tap before moving up and kissing her as she enjoyed the taste of her holes.

Soyeon grabbed the chains on your neck, but you quickly countered her, turning her around and taking your clothes off as you pushed your massive cock out and slapped against her ass cheeks. "Please, I need it; put it in my pussy and fuck it until you fill it to the brim," Soyeon begged. You lifted her small left leg and started to insert your cock in her pussy. "Ohhhh yeah," she moaned, very excited as her pussy already throbbed hard for that cock.

"OH MY GOD, HOLY FUCK," a very sensitive Soyeon screamed as you pushed your cock deeper in her pussy. You started very slowly. "Give me, please," she begged as you gripped her waist and thrust inside her cunt. As your cock hit her cervix for the first time, Soeyon's body trembled. "Fucking big," it was all she could say, already losing her breath as you kept pushing, her getting very sweaty in spite of the cold temperatures and her hair getting utterly messy.

"It's so good; keep pushing," Soyeon said as you increased the speed of your thrusts. "Damn, that's so fucking amazing," she said, kissing you as she could barely utter words out of her mouth. "Oh shit," you said, confronted with the tightness of her cunt and clapping her cheeks hard to get deep inside her throbbing walls. Soyeon bounced a bit and then let you take full control, dreaming of herself getting pregnant each second your cock went in and out of her pussy.

"AHHHHH FUCKKK," Soyeon let out a massive scream as soon as you could no longer contain yourself and smacked your cock deeper and deeper in her pussy. "Fuck me hard, baby," she said, barely able to hold herself as she clung to the handrail. "Damn it," she cursed as your cock was balls deep inside her, hitting her cervix every single time it went all the way in.

"I love how my belly bulges," Soyeon said as your cock kept working on her pussy. The gap in size between you two was almost 30 cm, but the tiny, pretty Jeon was able to handle your massive cock just fine. you could tell that her strength far overwhelmed her pocket size, as while many girls complained of your big cock stretching them out, she kept inviting you for more.

"OH MY GOD, OH SHIT!" Soyeon finally screamed as you pushed her to the limit. She guided you to the spatious living room of her aparment, pushing you to the couch as she showed you why she's one of the best cocksuckers in the business. You felt like a boss as Soyeon impaled her throat on your big cock and got very sloppy from the start, bobbing her head like crazy and gagging all over that dick.

"Oh yeah," Soyeon says as she performs a very speedy blowjob, slapping your cock against her tongue as she works her magic on it, covering it full of saliva. "Fuck yeah, you're so fucking nasty, baby," you say to her as she covers her mouth and strokes your tip while licking it as well. In the end her blowjobs are like her raps: very loud, very fast, very powerful.

Soyeon kept sucking and jerking your cock off like the nasty bitch she was, spitting all the way in your tip and savoring it shortly after. She had such an unorthodox way of blowing cocks off, rarely deepthroating them but making fast moves circling around the tip. She loves to tell her groupmates that's a rapper's blowjob, while deepthroats are vocalists blowjobs.

Soyeon climbs up and lets you taste her cock-filled mouth. You can tell she's hornier than ever. You massage her ass and spread her cunt, making her moan and smile as she keeps giving you sloppy kisses before climbing down for another round of crazy cock-sucking and head-boby. "HOLY FUCK," you scream, putting an end to her fun. Soyeon crawls on the carpet, you chasing her and spanking her ass, making her laugh. you catch Soyeon and pin her against the floor, spreading her ass as you get ready to mount on top of her. "OH MY GOD," she screams in pain as your cock instantly slides all the way deep in her cunt.

You fuck Soyeon like a savage, her feeling as if her soul is leaving her body. Rolling her eyes and screaming as her body gets pressed to the floor, Soyeon can feel you bulge under a little belly, making her start dreaming again of it getting inflated with a baby inside it. "SHIT, SHIT, SHIT, SHIT," she curses every time your cock hits her cervix as you keep plowing her cunt in an animalesque prone bone position. "Baby, you're so deep in me," she says, barely able to breathe as your cock rips her pussy apart.

"FUCK, IT'S SO BIG, I LOVE IT," Soyeon screams as you clap her cheeks relentlessly. "I love it, baby; keep fucking me, baby." she soon gets very needy, you just followe her instructions as loud noises come out of each thrust you give Soyeon's pussy. You put her back on all fours, grabbing her shoulders and remaining on yop of her. "OH MY GOD, AHHHHHH" she screams again, but the more she does it, the harder you fuck her.

Soyeon is a complete mess as she's all sweaty and can barely sit on her feet. She kisses you before getting all submissive for another round of pounding. "Keep doing that," she says, getting what she asks for as she grinds her teeth while getting obliterated. "Keep going, keep going; it's so deep," she moans. "You're fucking the shit out of me; that's what I want, FUCKKKKK," she says.

You pause the pounding a bit to caress Soyeon's stretched-out pussy. "You're fucking me so good, baby," she whispers in your ear. "I want you to fuck me more; don't stop; fill me up," she begs as she stays on all fours on the carpet and shakes her ass in your face, and you lick her throbbing pussy after so much pounding. "Keep doing that, oh my god, you lick me so good," she says, increasing the speed of her ass shaking as you dive deep in her pussy.

"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck," Soyeon contorts in pain as your cock gets back inside her, her body more sensitive than ever. But you just keep pounding her pussy despite her screams. "OH MY GOD, BABY, IT'S SO DEEP!" she continues to scream as she gets weaker and weaker. "Wait, wait, wait," she begs, unable to stay on her feet.

You grab Soyeon's tiny body and push it up, kissing her as you let her recover from your hard pounding. She's so small and weak you carry her with ease, sliding your cock in her pussy and carry-fucking her. "HOLY FUCK, DAMN IT," she screams as her cheeks get clapped hard while her body is up in the air, clinging hard to you not to fall off. "OHHHHHH FUCKKKKK," she screams as you plow her pussy harder and harder, not giving it any rest.

You put Soyeon back on her feet after your quick carry-fucking session is over. She's more needy than ever. You reward her with another sloppy blowjob, her salivating like crazy all over your shaft and bobbing her head on it with eyes wide open. The way she plays with the tip never ceases to amaze you, making bubbles with her mouth around it and letting a string of saliva fully coat it as she worships it like crazy with her "rapping blowjob.".

"Get in there," you tell Soyeon, opening the yellow curtains of the living room. "What a view to get fucked, right?" you ask her, pinning her against the glass. Soyeon can't even answer, feeling weaker than ever. "OH MY GOSH, BABY," she screams as your cock gets inside her, reacting and pulling out before putting it in the right position. She keeps moaning but bounces her ass on it as she looks at the amazing view of Seoul in the mirror while you stretch her out. "OH MY GOD, IT'S SO DEEP," she says as you grab her cute butt. Soyeon closes her eyes, the glass getting foggy as she breathes all over it. "Fuck, baby, fuck, make me cum like that," she says, her hands going from the glass to her pussy.

"AHHHHH AHHHHHH I'M GONNA CUM," Soyeon says as she squirts all over the wooden floor, clinging to the support of the window. You grab her tiny waist and stay fucking her like usual, groping her little tits, so as Soyeon increasingly loses the grip over her own body, she crawls once again in the room, unable to walk at this point as she is extremely sensitive and her ovulation is in full effect. She tries to go upstairs, but you easily catch her and put your cock back in her pussy. "AHHHHHHH," she screams as you hold her waist and fuck her right at the door that leads to the living room, her body facing the floor as she once again feels like her soul is escaping from her.

You carry Soyeon upstairs, dropping her at her bed and spreading her legs as you worship her throbbing pussy. "Ohhhh baby," she moans as you eat her out, closing her eyes and enjoying squirting all over your face while your tongue works fast and hard on her clit, reminding her of her own blowjobs. "Keep going, baby, shitttt," she moans as her pussy gets even wetter and her legs shake. You take off her stockings and nearly all her lingerie, your cock already pointing once again towards that stretched-out cunt. You then kiss and worship her feet. "Oh yeah, baby, treat me like a goddess," Soyeon says as you lick her toes, her being so sensitive now that even that makes her moan a lot. "Holy fuck, the way you kiss my feet is so sexy," she says.

Soyeon then moves closer to you as she decides to sit on your lap, impale herself full of your cock once again. She may not be able to walk at this point, but she can still ride on a dick like her life depends on it. You can quickly tell she's a pro at cock riding, her bounces being firm, well-paced, and strong, alternating slow and fast moves as she's now in full control of your cock, using her throbbing pussy to give it the best possible massage.

Soyeon tilts her body forward as she keeps moving up and down your cock while you wrap your arms around her body to bring her closer. "Holy shit," she moans as she gets fully impaled by your massive size. "Oh my God, that cock is amazing," she says as she quickly squats and twerks on it, with you staying on the edge not to cum inside her and fulfill her motherhood fantasies. "Your dick is so fucking perfect, baby, and it'll be even more perfect when you fill my tiny little pussy with cum," she says, taking dirty, while at the same time getting very clingy and kissing you.

As Soyeon gets on her feet for the first time in a while, she stays committed to bouncing on your dick, feeling as if she's floating in the air. She moves so fast now you feel scared she's gonna snap that cock in half. "HOLY FUCK, IT'S HITTING ME SO DEEP," she screams, but remains focused on riding it anyway, toying with it as she spins on your shaft.

"Fuck me deep; I need this so bad," Soyeon tells you as she gets even clingier, hugging you and just letting your cock freakily pump her cunt. "Give that big fucking cock to me, please. oh my god, keep doing that, OHHHHH FUCKKKKKK, I'M CUMMING, OH GODDDDD," Soyeon starts moaning as you hit her pussy nonstop, her short hair fully covering her face as she struggles to deal with the heat you put in her fuckhole. "That's so sexy, baby, keep going," she says regardless and then resumes bouncing on your cock, opening and closing her legs and inventing new ways to ride it and getting herself stretched out.

"Give me, give me, give me, please. I want more cock," Soyeon says. "Then suck it," you tell her, pushing her little body out of you and jerking yourself off in preparation for another round of amazing blowjobs. Soyeon interlocks her pussy lips with your mouth's lips, stretching her little body to dive her mouth back on that cock, although you're so big she doesn't need to make much of an effort despite her short height.

Soyeon alternates bobbing her head firmly using her hands and using no hand at all, choking herself on that big shaft like a maniac, her hair bouncing all over her face as she spins it as she moans with you eating her pussy, but it all gets muffled under that big shaft. Soyeon spits hard on it as her head-bobbing only gets crazier and crazier. She looks at the window and starts having visions of a massive concert crowd, as wild fantasies of her performing oral sex on a fan in front of a huge audience start popping into her mind.

"I want you to cum deep in my pussy. I want you to make me the mother I've always wanted to be," Soyeon says as she finishes sucking your cock off and lays on the bed again as opens her legs. With your cock so wet from her sloppy blowjob, you slide in her already used up cunt with ease, getting ready to fuck her in missionary position. She's needier than ever, kissing you the second your cock gets inside her again. You take it very slow, her already very wasted and barely feeling her legs. Soyeon massages her clit and tries to cope with the heat your cock put in her pussy. "Ohhh baby, your cock feels so good inside me," she says, spreading her bottom lips and praying to god every time you hit her cervix.

You finally throw any caution out of the window and fuck Soyeon hard. "OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD," she screams as tears flow out of her eyes. You wreck her tiny, pretty pussy hard, showing no regard for it. "This shit is so huge," she says as she wraps her legs around your body and lets you plow her at full speed, her body bouncing like crazy. "HOLY FUCK," she screams as you turn her into nothing but a cocksleeve.

You put Soyeon under a mating press, making her fulfill the fantasy she always dreamed of after seeing it countless times in her hentai collection. She never thought it could happen to her, yet here you were, ready to inseminate her tiny pretty cunt at the most submissive position ever. "Fuck me like a toy, please, breed me, I want your baby, OH MY GOD, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," Soyeon moans as your balls clap against her cheeks and her cunt gets stretched to the fullest. It's now or never for both of you: you're not pulling out until you fill that pussy up, she's not letting you go until you impregnate her.

"I WANT YOU TO CUM DEEP IN THE PUSSY, ALL THE WAY DEEP, BABY," Soyeon demands, and as soon as you hear these words, you empty your balls in her cunt. "I'm gonna cum, ahhhhh," you announce as her walls squeeze your cock and she gets filled to the brim, you two recreating those classic breeding hentai scenes as Soyeon's vagina is turned into a white mess of sperm. "Holy fuck, I hope you came enough to give me that baby I wanted," Soyeon says, thanking you by cleaning your cock and then kissing you.

"Take me to the shower; I want you to fill me up again there as well," she says, getting your cock quickly hard again with a sloppy blowjob and preparing it for a second round.

And that's how you spent the whole night, becoming Soyeon's personal inseminator and cumming countless times in her ovulating womb. A few days pass by, Soyeon praying it was enough to get her pregnant. One day, she passes through the same places you fucked her that night, going from her bedroom to the living room all the way to her shower, until she stops and throws up in her toilet.

It's the sign she needed. Soyeon picks up a pregnancy test from her sink drawer. "Please, please, tell me I'm pregnant," she prays. After a few minutes, the test comes up positive.

"HOLY FUCK, I'M GOING TO BE A MOTHER," Soyeon screams. She takes a pic of the test and sends it to you with the caption. "Baby, I'm pregnant.".

Damn, she wasn't kidding when she told you to impregnate her, was she?

[monzamash]

still tasting you lando norris x you (older piastri sister) rating – 18+ (sex, coarse language) requested by @sublimebarbie for monzamusings ✨

“I’m about to act up if we don’t get out of here soon.”

Lando's voice was hushed and close, barely audible over the loud music but you heard him; you heard the suggestion in his tone - eyes dark when you peered into them, scorching through your soul. 

The room was a blur – bodies everywhere, EDM vibrating through the floor and syphoning up the ceiling, making your head spin. The shots on the way in didn’t help your sense of direction, the tequila tasting bitter on the tip of your tongue as you followed your brother; a chain of McLaren employees all fighting their way through the dense crowd. It was loud, raised voices trying to figure out where we were being dragged. Truthfully, it was almost too much. 

Until you saw him. His navy button down shirt stuck to his tanned skin, black thick-rimmed sunglasses shielding his bloodshot eyes, bright toothy smile reflecting the flashing lights. He was the embodiment of ‘dance like nobody’s watching’ with his arm raised in the air, singing along to a remix of No Diggity. Carefree, giving zero fucks until he saw you. 

To the outside looking in, you two were friendly - he was your younger brother's teammate, after all. But in the shadows, there were unspeakable acts of pleasure occurring that had you both sworn to secrecy. Quick glances, ghosting touches, passionate make out sessions behind motorhomes and late night rendezvous in hotel rooms. It was the whole ‘sneaking around’ cliche and you loved it. 

Especially when he looked at you like that. 

Like you’d hung the stars in the sky, like there was nobody else in the room but you. He was ravenous and completely enamoured; rendered speechless every single time. 

Granted, you looked hot. Intentionally. You craved his undivided attention and you had it in spades. He’d slipped away from the DJ booth as soon as he saw you lining up for a drink - chatting away with his PR manager and pretending like you couldn't feel his searing presence behind you. 

“Hey guys,” Lando cooly greeted, smiling brighter than the sun.

“Hey hun, I'm ordering drinks - what do you want?” Sophie asked, waiting a beat for Lando’s answer and getting nothing in return, “Lando?”

“Huh?” he mumbled, tearing his gaze away from you to his media manager who was still waiting for his drink order, but now with a sly smirk on her face, “Couldn’t hear you over the music.” He tried to play it off and she simply hummed in agreement and turned back to the bartender.

“Smooth,” you whispered playfully, pulling him into a friendly side hug, “Congrats on the win… must feel amazing.” 

Lando nodded and ran his hands through his hair - you'd noticed he always did that when he was nervous. His cheeks would flush, eyes would dart to anywhere but yours and his fingers would find the frayed ends of his gorgeous curls. All tell tale signs that he was into you. 

“Yeah, it does…” he agreed, nodding and chewing the inside of his cheek, “Not as amazing as you look but still pretty good.”

He could turn it on when he wanted to. And it made you blush as your idle hands playfully swatted him away until you spotted your little brother strolling over to the two of you with a smile. 

“Hey mate,” Oscar greeted happily, patting his teammate on the shoulder, “Celebrating?”

“Absolutely,” Lando enthused and held up his vodka soda with a grin, “Is Lily here?”

“Yeah she’s talking to someone. Thought i’d just come over and make sure my sister wasn’t annoying you again,” he winked, knowing that you were the least annoying person he knew. 

So you rolled your eyes and started to walk away, “Rich coming from you, kid.”

Oscar simply laughed, none the wiser to your arrangement with his teammate, “Don’t have too much fun and remember which side of the garage you’re related to, yeah?” “Yeah, yeah.” you brushed him off and slyly grasped Lando’s wrist, dragging him off into the sea of sweaty bodies and debauchery. 

It didn’t take long for his hands to find a place on your swaying hips, entranced by the way they moved to the music reverberating through your chest. It was hot, in more ways than just the temperature rising in the room as capacity hit. Lando’s breath swept across the back of your neck as he leaned in, so close to pressing his lips to the soft spot between your ear and shoulder that gifted him with the sweetest sounds he had ever heard.

It took every ounce of will power to save it for the bedroom. 

But he was fighting a losing battle. 

“I’m about to act up if we don’t get out of here soon.”

You couldn't stop the smirk tugging on the corners of your lips as his confession washed over you. So you spun around in his arms and leaned in a little closer than "friendly".

But you didn't care – you needed him.

“Then take me somewhere and do something about it.”

That’s all it took. Five little words had you pressed up against the wall of the lavish bathroom. The lighting was dim, nothing but a single sconce illuminating the copper walls and the gorgeous vanity you were perched upon. It was clumsy, all teeth as you kissed the man holding you up, legs sprawled and mewls slipping from your ruby lips. Tongue tied and breathless, all the things to make a quickie, a quickie. 

“So fucking tight,” Lando grumbled as he pumped two fingers into you, the dampened string of what resembled a pair of panties haphazardly pulled to the side.

“Need to fuck me good then, hey.” It was a taunt fuelled by carnal need and desire - Lando simple nodded and lazily nipped at the skin exposed on your neck. 

“Gonna fuck you so good, baby.”

He was painfully hard, which made unzipping his ridiculously tight trousers even harder than usual. But he managed to do it without missing a beat, fingers still delving into the depths he craved to feel squeezing his aching dick. He’d thought about it all day, even had to have a cold shower because of how fucking obsessed he was with the way you felt around him, clenching like you were now around his thick digits. 

“We’ve gotta be quick so leave everything on,” you whispered with a devilish glint in your hungry eyes, fiddling with his belt buckle.

Lando wasn’t going to protest, in fact he loved the idea of having you like this - fully clothed with only your cute, black lacy panties pulled to the side for him to slide into. He couldn’t wait any longer. His trousers and pants were hastily shoved down just enough to free him, the slick coat of excitement cooled by the air and sending a chill down his spine. Until he removed his fingers and ran himself through your folds, eliciting the sound of an angel, heaven sent.

“We good?” he asked sweetly and you nodded with pleading eyes, sealing a layer of consent before nudging his tip into you. 

A chorus of moans harmonised between the two of you, pleasantly satisfied by the intimacy as he shuffled forward with a gentle huff. It felt too good to have him inside you, filling you up with a delicious fullness you constantly craved from him. It’s all you needed after a long day of yearning and discreetly glancing across the garages - all you could think about was this moment, where it was just you and him; so outrageously turned on that you couldn’t wait to get back to his hotel. Desperately devoted.

“Feels unbelievable, baby,” you praised in a breathy moan, head tilted back against the already steamed up mirror hanging behind you.

“Having you like this is a fucking dream,” Lando practically growled as he pulled down the top of your dress and kissed the tops of your breasts, “So beautiful.” 

Everything felt heightened as you relaxed against the vanity, fully trusting his tight grip and letting go of all inhibitions. That’s how you felt with Lando - walls down and no longer scared to feel it all with someone. And god, it felt good to purge all the pent up lust and aching to have him like this, panting and whispering filth into your ear; every word and jut surmounting to the knot in your stomach snapping to ribbons all at once. Your rushed words pathetically coming out in a whine.

“Lan… Baby I’m gonna- fuck, I’m so close.” 

“Shhh, I got you darling, come ‘f me…” he sweetly whispered, easing you over the edge as his fingers caressed the bundle of nerves between your thighs like precious cargo. 

You chanted his name over and over and over again, fingernails clutching his clothed back for leverage as you convulsed in pleasure, shockwaves hitting every nerve in your body as he spilled into you with an exasperated groan. He was beautiful, all flushed and fucked out as he pressed his forehead to yours, weary eyes locked in once again. 

“Some of our best yet, I reckon,” Lando whispered, his smirking lips ghosting yours. 

You chuckled and gave him a quick kiss as you slid down off the vanity, readjusting your panties to their usual position. There was a short beat before you glanced back up at him with a smile, fingertips instinctively tracing the angles of his sharp jaw. 

“Oh, we’re just getting started, baby.” 

a/n – something a bit different! i've always wanted to explore a lando x older piastri sister because well, this fic series exists and older reader stories just hit harder and are a lot easier for me to write. so let me know what you think!

click here for more writing...

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

Ok but imagine 42! Miles with a s/o who's literally the complete opposite of him in terms of aesthetic but she helps him when he's the prowler. Like nobody would expect the sweet, energetic, girl with the "Mabel pines" energy to be the gal in the chair for the prowler and making his weapons and at the same time being his girlfriend. They're a literal force to be reckon with.

Complete opposites but totally work

(I love this and so sorry it took so long but enjoy!)

Mabel Pines!Reader

You guys work very, very well together

I can't even describe it very well but it's like yin and yang

He was absolutely gobsmacked on how smart you actually could be

Because not mean, he thought of you as a sort of airhead for a while

But he actually found it quite cute or adorable on you

But he did find out very quickly that y'all have very, very different aesthetics

To be frank you look like a rainbow threw up on you

While Miles is all gloomy and dark over there

So safe to say you throw some glitter in him and force him to be colorful

He finds it hard sometimes to keep up with your energy

But it good for him

His mama absolutely LOVES you

She sees how much Miles loves you just due to the light you bring into his eyes

You can give this man anything and he will pretend to not like it but raise hell if you try and take it back

You guys proudly watch the news of worried women and men on TV talking about jobs you guys pulled and tryna catch you guys

Y'know those sassy guys we see in Tiktoks?

He's that sassy guy with you when you make him mad or annoyed

Knees facing the other way with his whole body while he side eyes you

But he can't resist you for very long

He actually was quite shocked when he found out you had a little dark side

He always saw you looking on the bright side of things

So you partaking in his Prowler activities, much less MAKING the shit for them, absolutely shocked him

He found it quite hot though I can't lie

You're absolutely right when you're completely different but work so well together

Even Uncle Aaron saw it

He uses you sometimes as a little diversion

A fake damsel in distress might I say

He never actually puts you in danger a you can very much so handle yourself but he's always lurking around the corner in these situations

You are an absolute monster at anything Miles needs

New gloves? Done

New mask? Done

Fucking Ray gun? Why didn't he ask sooner? Here, it's in your bag

You absolutely stick little stickers on his crap as well

You can't help yourself

But he absolutely loves it

You sit in the chair looking all pretty but can turn intimidating real quick as he's sitting on the arm chair

Y'know those scenes where the bad guy asks their "dumb/weird" henchman like

"I have no idea…how about we ask (Name)?"

Those type of scenes and you can come up with the best shit he didn't even think of

Absolutely soul mates

Anyway, enjoy this little scene I made:

Miles breathed heavily, leaning against the wall on the rooftop to the door to go back down to his home. He was dressed as the Prowler, breathing labored from a fight.

Miles tried to breathe the best he could, even succeeding for a moment before his eyes snapped open as he heard the shudder of a phone camera and a flash.

Miles' eyes widened, hand in front of him as the flash died and he saw you standing there, blank faces and camera held out in front of you.

Miles and you stared at one another for a moment, nothing to say at all.

"Is that carbon fiber?" You suddenly spoke up.

"...what?-" Miles blinked, barely able to process this before you almost jumped on him.

"Ooh! How did you make this?!" Miles couldn't even breathe and before he knew, his helmet was in your hands as you went on.

"This material is tough enough but you know I could make a much better one if-" you rambles on, an excitement to your voice Miles knew all to well as you flipped over the mask in your hands

"Wait– hold on." Miles held his arms out, effectively causing a pause in your rant as you stared back at him.

"Y'know who I am…right?" Miles asked, slowly and almost trying to be intimidating.

"Um…the Prowler?" You muttered, utterly confused as you tilted your head, holding the helmet to your chest.

"Yeah?!" Miles exclaimed, eyes wide and hands held out like he was trying to get a point across.

"Mhm. Is this like…a trick question, or…?" You asked, completely unbothered by it all as you looked down at the mask, examining it as you merely glanced up at him.

"No! Just- why are you so calm about this?" Miles asked, shocked as well.

"Well, it's not really shocking. You sorta have the backstory of a villain, anyway." You shrugged, staring dead at him.

"...seriously?"

"Well, kinda. Sorry, is this like a bad time for you?" You asked, still not handing over the mask as you held it over your head, almost trying to put it on.

"No, just, you can't tell anyone about this." Miles said, grabbing the mask to hold it in place and off your head, almost dangerously close to your face.

"I mean, I'm not? But-" you started and Miles almost rolled his eyes at your excited expression.

"I can help you!" You stated, biting your lip in excitement as you almost glowed from the glitter on you.

"Help…me?" Miles raised a brow.

"Yeah! Everyone thinks I'm dumb, but I have dirt on everyone. Everyone. And, not a lotta people notice I'm there so I can get you a lot of info, or like- routes and stuff. I'm also good with my hands."

You went on proudly, Miles looking between you and your hand which held his helmet.

It took a moment, Miles going over it all in his head.

He finally sighed.

Miles opened the door to the stairwell, gesturing inside as your eyes widened in shock before you actually smiled, hurrying inside quickly as you rambled on.

Miles followed after you, a seemingly annoyed expression on his face, but the dust of pink across his cheeks from your smile gave him away.

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

@mushystrawberries @sweetheartlizzie07 @itstooearly-its3am @Ihavetoexist @kaorussgf @samsketchezz @yas-v @lovelymiaablogss @sussybaka10 @shisuishoe @sairavity @moonlight-rosevine @spectr3inl0ve @najiiix @popeheywardssecretgf @onginlove @sylisan @onginlove

[after-witch]

A Morning After [Yandere Uvogin x Reader]

Title: A Morning After [Yandere Uvogin x Reader]

Synopsis: You didn't think about what you and your newly found soulmate Uvogin might do next. Follow up to Late Night Break In.

word count: 2040

notes: yandere, soul mate au

You hadn’t thought about what might come next.

But here you are, sitting in your bedroom while your tall, unusual soulmate rests his chin on his hand, seeming to ponder the events more quietly than you might expect from someone with his appearance.

“So uh,” you interrupt, and he turns to look at you. “What do we… do now?”

Your question seems to surprise him.

“Do?” You can make how his features twisting a little in the night-time light through your window. “Huh, I didn’t really think about that.” The words come sighing out. He’s just as lost as you, which is both a comfort and a worry.

Your fingers grip at your comforter--there’s a brief, stupid flash of a thought about the fact that it was brand name, purchased without a payment plan, and you’d even saved up enough to have it dry-cleaned--and twist at the fabric. 

“Well,” you begin, choosing your words carefully. “Are you staying the night? Or um, staying here?” The questions come tumbling out, now that your mind has shaken off the shock of his meeting. “Am I staying here? Are we staying here?” You blink rapidly. “Am I still going into work? Are you going to pay my bills? Do you have bills, wherever you live? Do you have enough room for my things, if I’m not staying? Is there a way I could stay?” You think about what that might mean, living here while your soul mate pops in secretly. But you had a gut feeling that your soul mate was not some ordinary person, and another thought crept in, slower and more serious. “I mean… could I even stay here? Is someone going to come after me or something like that?”

Uvogin regards your incessant barrage of questions with a simple quirk of his eyebrow, and then a quirk of his head, and then a quirk of his mouth. Finally, he simply chuckles and shakes his head.

“You’re something, all right.”

Your lips curl up a little.

“Excuse me?”

He hums and splays his hands out. 

“I just said--you’re something.”

You pull the comforter up higher and wrinkle your nose at him. 

“Well, don’t make that sound like a bad thing.”

He grins again--you get the feeling, innate, that he can’t quite help it--and puts his hands up in surrender.

“Didn’t mean anything bad by it. I just haven’t met someone like you before.” He looks up at the ceiling, his hair shifting with the movement. “But I guess most people who meet me aren’t talking about bills and houses.”

You should ask something like: What does that mean? Why don’t people talk about casual things to you? Who are you, anyway? 

But in your chest you feel something… warm and bitter. Like a twinge of sympathy, maybe. Is that your soul mate bond reacting or something else? 

You sigh. Your world suddenly seems both very small and big at the same time, alternating on some wild axis and you don’t know where it will stop.

“Look,” you say, gathering your thoughts. “I… I won’t fight you, if you don’t want me to stay here. I get the impression that you’re not a settling-down-in-one-place type of person.” He snorts, and you continue. “But I really mean it when I say I want my things.” 

You feel that pinching in your chest again, and wonder if he feels it, too. “You don’t know how much it took me to get all this. Not just money-wise, but taking the time to research things.” You gesture around your bedroom. “How to tell quality over quantity. How to take care of nice things.” 

Your fingers tighten and loose on the comforter again and again.

I”m not rich and I don’t have a lot but… it feels nice to pretend sometimes. You know?”

There are a few moments where he simply looks at you

“Yeah,” he tells you, a little softly. “I get it.” 

He sighs, this time a long, stretched out thing. And when he speaks next, he seems to have made some sort of decision.

“Well. For now, I’ll stay the night. It’s late. We can figure out the rest in the morning, can’t we?”

You nod. It really would be more sensible to think on things and approach this with a clear head, although you wonder just how much your opinion mattered in the end here. 

But then Uvogin starts to shift as if he’s going to lay down and the noise you make is something in between a squawk and a shout.

“Wait! Wait!”

He freezes.

“There--there isn’t room on the bed for both of us. The weight limit is probably already being stretched, I--”

He shrugs, a big, casual gesture. You think for a moment that he’ll insist, which is something you aren’t comfortable with for more ways than one, but he merely stands up. “No problem. I can sleep on the floor.”

Pinch, pinch, twist goes your chest. What is this feeling, anyway? 

“I’ll get some blankets,” you offer, the words coming out slow. You feel both like a terrible host and a victim tonight in the same measure, and you’re not sure which wins out.

You slowly peel your comforter aside and scurry off, feeling his eyes following you all the while. But it doesn’t feel entirely creepy. There’s an intimacy to it--and is this how it feels, to be wanted by your soul mate? Is this how your coworkers feel? Your friends, your family? Those people on TV who gush about finally finding “the one”? 

As you return with a pile of carefully folded blankets in your arms, you suddenly can’t blame them, for worrying about you missing out. It feels… nice. Worrisome, sure, considering the circumstances. But you can’t deny that nice warm pull in your chest, even as your logical mind worries about other things. 

He watches quietly while you unfold and unfurl the blankets, creating a makeshift bed on the floor. You grab a few extra pillows from your closet and toss them down, cringing a little--they were really nice cases, too, a good thread count. But there was nothing to be done about that. When you’re finished making the floor bed as comfortable as it can possibly be, you glance at him, and he stares down at the creation you’ve made which is… clearly far too small for his frame.

You cough and scurry back to the linen closet and return with more blankets. How big must his bed be, wherever he slept normally? Did he have somewhere to sleep normally? Too many questions, and you wonder if you’ll ever get an answer. 

When you’re truly finished making the bed, you glance up at your soulmate, who is sporting a smile on his lips. You wait for him to make some kind of snarky remark, but he says nothing. And… you, you like that. He knows how to tease you, sure, but he apparently knows when to keep it back as well. 

Somehow this nice little thought carries you through the process of crawling back into bed, and waiting for him to get settled into the makeshift blanket-bed on the floor. 

In the morning, you two will have to talk things through. Maybe in the morning, he’ll be more forthcoming with answers to your questions. Or maybe you will have a clearer head and put your foot down on leaving… or a clearer head and realize that doing such a thing would be truly pointless.

Maybe you can ask him more about how he found you, or ask him if he ever felt lonely or if his friends--did he have friends?--wanted him to find a soulmate like yours so readily did. 

Maybe in the morning you’ll ask him how much money he makes, because you’ll have to come up with a budget. He’s so much taller than you, more muscular, he probably eats a ton. Where will the money for that come from? Will you even be able to store that much food in your apartment? Maybe you’ll have to get a new one, if he doesn’t take you somewhere. Maybe he makes enough for an upgrade. Or maybe not. 

Maybe, maybe, maybe. 

Maybe it will all make sense in the morning.

That is… if you can fall asleep.

You’re tossing and turning, and it’s not surprising, but it definitely doesn’t help matters. You land somewhere in between on the next toss, staying flat on your back and staring up at your bare white ceiling.

“Uvogin?” You ask, voice soft in the darkness. 

There’s no answer at first. He might be asleep. You should just go back to bed.

But then there’s a noise, low but unmistakable, from the floor. 

“Hmm?” 

You choose your words as carefully as you can.

“I don’t mean to be negative, really, but um. I don’t have the money to buy groceries for 2 people and toiletries for 2 people and a bed for another person--where would it even go?--and I don’t know if I can afford to move--”

You hear the blankets on the floor rustling, and see his figure moving in the dark. He doesn’t stand up, but merely gets up on his knees and looms over the bed. There’s a moment where your heart thuds hard (he’s so close to you) but all he does is put a finger to your lips. 

Then he shows a cocky grin, white teeth in the dark. 

“Listen. You think too much. Don’t worry your pretty head about stupid things like money. Who cares about that?” 

You bristle, and you’re ready to argue but he taps his finger on your lips again.

“It’s not the type of thing you gotta worry about when you’re my soulmate.” You see him rub his nose, considering. “

“Got it?”

He’s waiting for an answer.

“Got it,” you murmur.

He nods and gets back down, taking his position back on the makeshift floor bed.

And you? You stare back up at the ceiling, which until perhaps an hour ago had been nothing more than the white space you were vaguely considering jazzing up with some fake crown molding, like the kind you saw in magazines. 

You wonder if Uvogin was the type of person who liked fake crown molding. Or hated it. Or did he care at all? Maybe he had no opinion on home decor, which in your estimation, was practically offensive. Did soulmates like all the same things you did? Or did they--

“Don’t think so much,” his voice interrupts. “It’s like I can hear you thinking in the dark.”

Your lips twist together, frowning.

“I--”

“Go to sleep” he says, a little softer. “We want to go at this with a clear head tomorrow, right?”

It’s your turn to lean up in bed, though you don’t go as far as getting off it. Instead you look down at him, and it’s no surprise to see him staring at you.

“That’s just what I was thinking earlier-- a clear head.”

He nods.

“Yeah, I know.” 

You swallow hard, and your fingers go back to twisting the comforter. 

“Can you… read my mind?”

He snorts and lets out a chuckle. 

“Don’t be stupid.” For some reason, you don’t take offense. It’s the way he says it, maybe. He taps his chest.

The twinge, the pinch, the pull. 

“Ah,” you say, and rest your head back down on the pillow. This time, you turn so that you’re on your side, facing the interior of your bedroom and the spot where Uvogin was set up to sleep. Although he wasn’t doing it anymore than you were at the moment, obviously.

He looks at you for a few more moments, then closes his eyes.

“Go to bed.”

“Okay,” you murmur, closing your eyes. This time, you begin to feel the tug and pull of sleep, shutting down your conscious thought and leaving you drifting with threads that went nowhere. 

Maybe things would truly be clearer for the both of you in the morning. 

[dakusan]

hiii! 🪷 long time reader, first time asker! first off! i am absolutely obsessed with your writing and the way you build worlds. especially with vamp!skz— the world?? the lore???? on another level

second! i know that the Abnormal and Normal vampires are extremely quick and can travel some distance, but does that distance have a limit? not necessarily like teleportation, but more like short bursts of extreme speed? or is it prolonged? I’m also super curious as to if they have to like consciously control that speed in order to assimilate better or if they choose when/if to use it,,, and how the blood doll, s/o or soulmate effects this ability (if they do)

thank you and please never stop i’m losing my mind here

OH ANON. 🪷🩸You darling blood-soaked scholar of speed and sin. You ask the questions that make my fangs tingle and my lore glands activate. Let’s sink in.

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

⚡️ V A M P I R I C S P E E D I N T H E V A M P ! S K Z

We’re talking not teleportation, but short-to-mid range ultra-speed, like blinking across a room or breaking the sound barrier down an alleyway. You are CORRECT—both Normal and Abnormal vamps can move fast, but there’s nuance, darling. SO MUCH NUANCE.

🧬 1. THE SPEED TIERS

🩸 Abnormal Vampires

Always born, never turned. They’re the result of a rare, unstable mutation in the vampiric gene—either a cursed bloodline or a biological anomaly.

Their speed is biological + magical + soul-reactive.

It’s not just physical—it warps light, sound, and sometimes perception.

They can move so fast they “blur”—you don’t see them leave, they were just suddenly never there.

They also accelerate mid-combat, which means?

He’s getting faster the more he’s focused on you. Run.

�� Normal Vampires

Can be born or turned. Born Normals have clean vampire genetics without mutation. Turned Normals were once human.

Still stupid fast. Like, Olympic sprinter meets panther in heat fast.

Limited to short bursts—fast travel over large distances exhausts them.

They can't phase-shift like Abnormals can—but they can catch a moving vehicle on foot, no problem.

🧠 2. IS IT CONSCIOUSLY CONTROLLED?

YES. Every vampire has to learn to dial it down or else humans would be screaming constantly.

Imagine trying to open a car door and ripping it off. Or trying to dodge a rude stranger and accidentally ending up on the next street over.

They are trained (especially the court-raised or military-trained ones) to regulate their burst threshold. Think of it like having access to multiple gears:

🥱 1st gear: blending in with humans, normal walking pace

🚶‍♂️ 2nd gear: fast walk, evasive, graceful

🏃‍♂️ 3rd gear: running, leaping, reflex reactions

💨 4th gear: predator mode—blink, vanish, blink again

🩸 5th gear: soul-reactive, mate-in-danger, blood’s singing, the world slows down but you don’t

💘 3. HOW DO BLOOD DOLLS / SOULMATES AFFECT IT?

Oh honey. This is where it gets GOOD.

🩸 Blood Dolls

Their blood acts like a tethering agent.

If a vamp has recently fed on their Doll, their body is more stable, so they can go faster without misstepping or fracturing something.

The closer the bond, the more synchronized their biology becomes.

💍 Soulmates

Feral boost.

A soulmate in danger = instant unlock of ALL gears + blood-rage mode.

Some Abnormals even experience a phenomenon called “Speed Feedback Overdrive,” where time distorts entirely because their heart is beating in sync with their mate’s panic.

“He ran across a city. Didn’t remember how. Only that you were crying.”

Some Abnormals are also known to vanish and reappear only where their soulmate is. Not teleportation—just hyper-fixated navigation + blood sense + obsession.

It’s not rational. It’s ritual. You move toward the one you’re bound to. No matter what.

🌙 BONUS: VAMP!SKZ REACTIONS

Bang Chan: Has perfect control over his speed. Moves silently. Vanishes mid-word when you trip. Reappears behind you: “I’ve got you. Of course I’ve got you.”

Minho: Has never used anything below third gear. No one’s ever seen him actually “move.” He’s just where he needs to be.

Changbin: Too fast, too strong, tries to slow down for you but still overshoots a hug by five feet.

Hyunjin: Blurs like a haunting. Dramatic with it. Will literally zoom past and leave flower petals spinning in the wind.

Jisung: Runs like a golden retriever on Red Bull, forgets momentum exists.

Felix: Gets flustered when you call him a blur. Will literally slow his whole gait to match yours hand-in-hand.

Seungmin: Precision fast. Calculated. Insulted someone? Gone. You didn’t even see it.

Jeongin: Awakening abnormal. Gets dizzy going too fast. You have to catch him sometimes.

🪷 TLDR

– Normals go ZOOM 🏃‍♂️💨 – Abnormals go ZOOM ZOOM 🧛‍♂️💥 – They gotta choose to slow down or they’ll accidentally speedrun life – Your blood? Makes them faster, stronger, more stable – Your soul? Unlocks rage-speed. – Your heartbeat? GPS system + turbo mode engaged – Bang Chan once sprinted across districts because your breath hitched in a dream. – So yeah. They fast. But you are their finish line.

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

THANK YOU FOR YOUR ASK. You fed my lore monster. She is full. She is grateful. She still wants dessert 💋

[imaginesmai]

Hewn City, where nightmares come true

Maybe this is a bit long and excesive? Maybe, but we love good angst, hurt and comfort. Thank you @marscardigan for your request! Feel free to send anything else. This is places inside the baker!reader universe, but it's independent. You can find other parts here.

Plot: your anonymity makes you a great choice for Rhysand's mission, even if Azriel doesn't agree. But you'll do anything to discover more of Azriel's life, even the worst part. So you decided to take that trip to Hewn City - where nightmares do come true.

Warnings: males being a lil creepy with their comments, Keir, violence.

“Az” you sighed for the third time that afternoon, staring at your stubborn mate. “It’s no big deal. Feyre has done it, Nesta has done it. Why can’t I?”

“They have done it because they have powers. They…” his words died when you raised a brow and dared him to tell you that they could and were different. More capable. “It’s not even about them, don’t change the topic. It’s about us. I don’t want you to do it”

“So, it’s fine when you leave for weeks to the mountains with a target on your back but I can’t accept one dance where you and your brothers will be watching?” you asked, and he finally looked away.

Azriel and you had been arguing about the same topic for two days in a row. Since Rhysand, who you had become fond of in the last years, asked you for a favor. He had been hoping you would come with them to Hewn City and dance with some males while they snooped around. You didn’t even have to carry weapons with you, since you would be introduced as part of their family.

It wasn’t dangerous or risky. It was a favor from your friend because Hew City didn’t know you. An unfamiliar face they would be too preoccupied studying to notice Feyre, Nesta and Mor sneaking into their studies. They would play the hard part. You just had to dance.

And Azriel was having a tantrum about it.

“The fact that you can’t even answer that question is enough. I’m going. And you can’t decide what I do and don’t”

“I can talk Rhysand out of it” he tried, not looking at you.

“Oh, like you haven’t tried that already”

You decided the conversation was finished and turned around to finish decorating the trail of cookies. Azriel was leaning against the counter, his usual place to watch you work in silent adoration. The storm in his eyes died down a little at the familiarity of your movements, at the comfort of the bakery.

Yes, he was mad. Mad at Rhysand because he hadn’t asked him first, mad at himself for considering he was your owner and needed to be asked for permission for you to do something. Mad at you because you couldn’t see how tight his heart became at the thought of you in someone else’s arms, dancing in a room full of vipers.

Half of the citizens of that rotten place had been tortured by Azriel at some point, and the other half had been gently tortured. He trusted Rhysand’s glamour to hide your bonded scent, but his rebel heart seemed to think otherwise.

For a while, he watched you work in silence, hands working your own particular magic with common ingredients. The fire eventually left his soul and he felt guilty enough to leave his spot. When you set the last trail in the oven, he took advantage of the vulnerable position and wrapped himself around you.

His wings created a small cocoon for the two of you, light barely seeping through the thick membrane.

“I’m sorry for being an overbearing mate” he apologized against your earlobe, letting his warm breath make you squirm. “You’re amazing and brave and you can handle everything you want, but I worry because I love you”

“And I’m also too smart and beautiful for your own good” you scoffed when one of his hands sneaked beneath your apron. “We’re gonna burn those cookies”

“Won’t the only thing burning for you tonight”

You bursted in a loud laugh and the rest of his anger faded away, giving up space for the usual love and adoration for you. In his arms, he could hear your heartbeat, smell the faint remains of vanilla from the previous muffins and your shampoo.

Azriel pushed you farther into his arms, and you didn’t complain. One of his arms was settled on your waist, under your apron but with no further intentions. The other one crossed your chest, and you gripped his forearm between your hands.

He was all hard muscles and soft skin. Even under his usual leathers, you could feel the familiar outlines of his arm. You looked up from his chest and saved the height different when you locked your eyes with him. From upside down, he was just as beautiful as ever.

His lips curved into an apologetic smile, although you were certain it wouldn’t be the last time you heard from it. Azriel was just a little less stubborn than you.

“I forgive you on one condition. You don’t bring it up to Rhys anymore. He already feels bad about it, you don’t have to remind him” you gently reprimanded him. “If he could, he would have searched for other solution. And I’m happy to help”

“You’re happy here, but down there it’s horrifying. And Rhysand and Hewn City can fuck – “

“Besides, I like doing things with you. From your other life”

Azriel’s life as the shadowsinger, as the spymaster, was still a bit hidden to you. You had gotten him to open up little by little, and he had shared some details that had you almost regretting your decision. But it was true that, besides doing Rhysand a favor, you wanted to do it with Azriel. Watch him work and be that tough male everyone feared.

That point made him roll his eyes and drop the matter with a brief kiss to your nose. He captured it between his teeth and playfully bit you, which earned him a swift elbow to his groin. Azriel teared apart just in time for the next customer to arrive.

With a sharp look that promised worst thing than an elbow, you left him in charge of the cookies and went to the front door.

-

Azriel hadn’t been allowed to see you before he big night. He had tried, but had received an arguable reason – that he would leave his smell all over you. As if he was a teen with hormone problems that couldn’t control himself. He was still fuming about it as he waited in silence by the throne, still pouting but intimidating.

His shadows were scattered all over the room, and he was purposefully ignoring Cassian’s warning glances. The last thing he could do to show his discomfort was terrorize a little their guests.

Rhysand had been introducing you in the dinner hall, where he hadn’t been allowed in. For centuries, the rules had kept Illyrian out of the finest and most elegant parts of the city, and it was one of the few rules he liked. He avoided pointless and tedious conversations waiting in the throne room.

“I bet Rhys he would wear line for a week you won’t last more than five dances” Cassian muttered under his breath, not looking away from the early guests. “Mor placed it at two”

“Glad my discomfort brings you joy, Cassian” he replied. “I plan to endure the whole night, if only for your troubles. What did Rhys bet?”

“Sex ban for a week”

Azriel rolled his eyes and finished the conversation. He was in for a long night, and he would try to endure it for you. Because you had looked so excited to be part of the plot, so bright and happy, he would never smudge that out.

The remains of your smile warmed his heart, and he relaxed a bit. You had been sitting right by his side as Rhysand went over the last details the previous night, listening to him like a hawk. Where you needed to dance, opposite from the entrance. Who you needed to charm or avoid, what you needed to act like.

He hated all of that, but he couldn’t deny that it made you happy. And whatever made you happy was worthy. The part he couldn’t stand was his absence during the grand dinner, during your introduction. It would raise many suspicions since Azriel never accompanied Rhysand there, therefore he had to wait at his usual spot.

Rotten on the spot with unusual nerves and doubts, he listened with trepidation the incoming steps.

“Don’t make me lose the bet. You don’t want to see me in a sex ban. Or Nesta” his brother announced quickly before the big doors opened.

“Shut up” Azriel hissed.

“A fair warning”

Rhysand walked in with cold indifference, Feyre walking by his side like the queen she was. His high-lord deemed worth the risk shoot him a warning glance, and Azriel thanked him, because it half-prepared him.

You walked right behind them, talking softly with Mor, and you were stunning. Beautiful. Bright. Radiant beyond the stars.

Azriel found the simplicity of your bakery uniform charming and perfect. The constant stains on your clothes, the sunny dresses you wore for your dates. Even training clothes made him stare longingly.

The dress you were wearing was long and dark, hugging all your curves and letting your left leg at plain sight. The cleavage lowered down to your waist, so low he could see the burnt scar you had gotten when you started your bakery. It showed your shoulders, your arms covered by a transparent, thin sheet of stars and bright dots. Azriel was glad he got a moment to digest the sight before seeing your exposed back.

You were so beautiful he stopped breathing, that he lowered his guard for the first time in that place. Someone could have tried to assassinate him from the front and he wouldn’t have seen them coming. Not when you were looking like a dream come true.

Rhysand was by his side before he could tear his eyes away from you, Feyre on his right.

“You may dance and drink and do whatever you like tonight” Rhysand motioned with a vague hand around. “But kneel first at your majesties”

“Lower” Cassian roared when only their heads lowered.

They all fell to their knees, as you and Mor watched by the side. While all their eyes were fixed on the ground, you looked at Azriel for the first time. He tugged frantically on the bond, proving Cassian wrong and behaving exactly like a hormonal teenager. You pulled back with a small smile – so small, so hesitant, that Azriel frowned.

It was different from the radiant one you had gifted him so many times during the last days.

He didn’t have to bother looking at Rhysand to have him speaking mind to mind.

“It’s her first time, she’s just nervous” his voice broke through the mental barriers, wary and full of concern. Azriel forced himself to look away from you, for your safety and his.

“What happened?”

“Nothing”

Rhysand knew him well enough to know he didn’t believe his answer, so he was met with flash of images of the previous dinner. How you had been introduced under predatory eyes, how your smile had died down a bit at the darkness and the coldness in their stares. Azriel’s whole body became alert as he watched through Rhysand’s eyes the dinner, no one daring to come close to you.

It would be different now, he knew, so he steeled his nerves as the first fae rose his head. 

They rose up one by one, and when Rhysand just kept mumbling something in Feyre’s ears, they deemed safe to start moving. Music started playing and males started looking for the company of women. Azriel’s neck vein pulsed painfully when a lesser fae walked up to you and Mor, asking for your hand.

From up there, he could smell your hesitance. You would follow the plan, as Mor stepped out with a small vow, Nesta nowhere in side. Feyre would leave shortly too, and you would only have to stay there until they came back. But Azriel had to remind himself to breath when you were taken to the dance floor by another male.

He had to give it to the first one – he was respectful enough to keep his hands your waist and not lower them. Azriel felt his power roaring inside him the whole time, and he couldn’t help but stain his ears to listen to the conversation.

Through the dances you granted, he did that, ignoring the rest of the world and looking without seeing through the room.

You’re beautiful, how is it we haven’t seen you around earlier?

I have a son, he has lands and power. Would you like to know him?

I was hoping to catch you all night. What is such a sweet flower like you doing here?

You smell nice, unbonded

Rumors say you are an unmarried female. Such a pity

The comments grew more unfortunate the longer the night went. Rhysand power was gently holding him in place, reminding him the importance of giving the girls time. The High lord was looking too much at you, for his sake, so they wouldn’t notice Azriel acting like a boiling bull next to him.

And that started to draw unwanted attention, the notice of his High Lord staring at a woman. You were nothing like the female that had walked hours ago into the ballroom. Once you had seen what Hewn City was, what your mate had to work with, you were withering away – and Azriel noticed.

Azriel was seeing every drop of your smile, every muscle you tensed. Blood dripped to the ground behind him from how hard he was clenching his fists. His shadows curled in the edges of the room impatient, ready to attack. He broke every bet they had and then the last male walked up to you.

“May I have this dance?” Keir asked as you were dropped by your last companion. “You are hard to catch, my dear”

You brushed off the last feeling of discomfort from hands on you, all night, and tried to think quick. He had been one of the few males Rhysand had warned you to stay away from, but he had scared off any other options. And your friends weren’t back yet.

“I was hoping for a break” you tried to seem confident. “Sit this one out”

“Pretty things like you shouldn’t be sitting”

You bit your inner cheek, regretting the help you had offered. You had been regretting since you had stepped in the hall, and you had met Azriel’s eyes. The way they shone with worry and concern, the desperate tug on the bond. He had warned you and you felt foolish, because you thought you could handle it.

There were reasons in fate why you worked in a quiet bakery and he spent his life in dungeons.

“Shouldn’t have dance with every male in this room if you’re gonna get scared now” he chuckled, all void and dark. It made the hairs of your arms raise. “I won’t bite. Not too hard”

Apparently out of options, you accepted his hand and kept a straight face when he pulled you closer. If you were honest, you were too close to crying. Your feet hurt, your heart was pounding way too loudly against your chest and you had been touched way too many times. Every inch of your body felt dirty and wrong, and Keir certainly had big hands.

You had avoided Azriel’s eyes all night. You knew Rhysand was looking out for you, maybe to draw attention away from your mate. But that had made more males, the worst type it seemed, to become interested in you.

Keir was the last of a long list you had endured so far. He shamelessly inhaled when he pulled you closer, his nose brushing the space between your shoulder and neck. You convinced yourself it was his nose, not his lips, that traced your pulse point.

“You smell divine. So sweet” he commented, keeping you close to his body. “Have you been taken yet, dear? Has a male unfiled you?”

“That’s not a question I want to answer” you complained. You weren’t sounding confident at all, not with his hand pressing against your waist. It sounded more like another question itself.

“Oh, how I will like to see this city defile you. A little, sweet thing. Didn’t your mother warn you about wolves and rabbits?”

You kept quiet at his words, looking down at your moving feet. That way, he couldn’t see the way your expression broke. You noticed your lip quivering, your body trying to become smaller in his grasp. Just a dance, you reminded yourself. The heat of Azriel’s eyes was still present on your back, Rhysand glamour tight around you.

Keir’s shoes became blurry when your vision filled with tears. So desperately, you wanted to be home, with Azriel. You wanted Rhysand to never need you again, to have Keir moved to another continent along with the rest of that doomed city.

“I wonder if you’ll be as quiet in bed. How much will your father make me pay for you? Maybe we can arrange things for this week” Keir suddenly gripped the edge of your chin and made you look up, with a serious look on his cruel face. “Are you fertile, dear?”

The way he was speaking about you, his fingers gripping your face, was enough to make the first tear roll down. The male actually looked surprised at the sight, but once it had fallen, you couldn’t control yourself.

It could have been like that, you realized, if you hadn’t found Velaris. If Az wasn’t your mate, instead a male like Keir or someone worse. Your eyes searched desperately for him, without need to ask for help.

Azriel had reminded you many times that only one look and he would be right beside you, court matters dammed. He had made you say it out loud multiple times, had gotten you a small bargain tattoo on the back of your ankle. His eyes were already dark and troubled when you met them, his body ready.

He winnowed between shadows before anyone noticed, and then those same shadows were besides you. Keir’s fingers were ripped from you with a sickening crack, and you only saw Azriel’s fighting leathers. His rough hands tucking your face farther into his body, his shadows crawling up to your knees and calves.

They were cool against your sweaty skin, Azriel a calming and safe presence. Your face scrunched in a silent cry as you let your pent-up emotions consume you. You hugged him tight, not looking at the source of the screams.

“Scum” Azriel scoffed at the male in the ground, shooting Rhysand a warning glance.

“This is over. Forever”

“Azriel. They will know”

“Fuck you”

Rhysand could only witness in tense silence as Keir’s body tried to fight off Azriel’s shadows. Always so gentle around your body, they wrecked the male on the ground. They burnt his arms and snapped his fingers, squeezed his throat until his eyes budged. Azriel watched with murderous indifference as he held you trembling.

That was what he had wanted to tell you, to warn you about. You were capable of everything, you were brave and amazing. But that city was filled with trash and they could suck the life out of anyone.

“I want to go home” you whispered against his chest, your knees trembling.

“You have always been stupid, Keir, but you can always surprise me” Azriel growled, so primitive and feral that the room fell quiet. “Let’s see if you can quiet your screams tomorrow”

Feyre running out of one of the many doors was the last thing Azriel saw before winnowing you both away from Hewn City. He let his shadows hide you, but used his wings for good measure of protection.

In a few seconds, you were back in your apartment in Velaris, above your bakery, the sweet scent of summer nights filling the space. It no longer smelt like death and expensive perfume, like rotten flesh and arrogance. Azriel didn’t let you go as you squeezed his middle with a surprising force.

He knew what you needed without explanation. Carefully, he unlaced the dress on your back, his hands brushing any inch of skin those males had touched. Each trembling sigh, each tear he smelt on you, made him physically hurt to go back and kill them all. Pull at their limbs and hang them from their insides.

Rhysand would be hearing for him for a while, everyone in his family would. He squeezed his eyes shut as he listened to your whimpers, that stabbed into his heart like sharped knives. Azriel ripped the sleeves off your dress and could have burned it with the sheer force of his hate.

When you were finally standing with just your underwear, he allowed himself a moment of reassuring. Since the moment he had met your eyes, he was done for. The destiny of the world could have been in risk that he would have had still acted.

His hands were shaking too when he pulled your face away from his chest, cupping your cheeks. They were wet with tears, Keir’s fingers marked on your chin. He watched those beautiful eyes, that had shone at the idea of working with him, carry the burden of that night.

“I’m sorry” you whispered brokenly, your breath speeding up again. “I’m sorry I messed it up”

“You did perfect, darling. You did so good. So good” he assured you with passion, bringing your face closer to him until you couldn’t avoid his burning gaze. “They got out and you did perfect, but you won’t have to do it never again. I promise, Y/N, never”

You cried in his hands, and Azriel broke at the sight. What type of mate allowed their partner to go through that? To have strangers’ hands on them for hours? He hated himself a little bit more for that, but tried to hide it as he kissed your forehead.

He tangled his fingers between your locks as his lips lowered down your face. To your closed eyelids and wrinkles. Azriel kissed every tear, your nose, the edges of your pointed ears. He let his lips linger at the bruises on your chin, and found comfort at having Keir paying for them next morning.

Azriel ended up picking you between his arms, and carrying you to your room. It still held the remains of your excitement – scattered clothes close to the wardrobe, make-up products opened and half-used. He pointedly ignored them as he carefully dropped you in bed. Your arms didn’t unhook from his shoulders, and he didn’t complain.

“I hate them so much” he admitted in a whisper, close to your ear. “I hate them”

He had hated them since he was a child, had wanted to keep them away from you. He considered if moving to another continent with you was far enough, or if he would be forced eventually to kill them for breathing the same air. Those decisions would have to wait until the next morning.

Still on his leather clothes, Azriel let you lay on his chest and draped the sheet over your bodies. He ignored Rhysand’s talons against his mental shields, only hug you closer. He listened to every shaky breath of yours, caressed away with his thumb the last tears you shared.

“I’m sorry I doubted you” you said eventually, almost when Azriel thought you were asleep. Raising your head from his chest, you met his eyes. “You were right. I’m sorry”

“I wish I had been wrong. I… sometimes I wish it was different. That I worked in the Archives or owned a coffeeshop” Azriel talked just as quietly. “Then I could have you with me always. I hate my job, but I love my court. I love Velaris and I want it to be a safe place, so I gotta endure those things”

“I wish that was different too”

It was foolish to wish on things that couldn’t happen. Azriel would die before letting you close to that part of his life again. He wasn’t done by far with Hewn City or his own brothers, but that night he only held your naked body close. Every now and then, he would recall a certain moment of the night and remember the exact point a stranger’s hand had touched – Azriel would caress that same spot, feeling you hug him tighter.

Neither of you slept that night, and you didn’t open the bakery the next day. It took Azriel two days to be able to leave your presence without feeling the need to rip Rhysand’s head off his shoulder, five baths to erase the memories of those hands. Keir rotted in a cell, accompanied only by Azriel’s shadows, in the meantime.

Three days later, when Azriel came back to Hewn City after leaving you in the bakery, Keir couldn’t keep quiet.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Let me know if you want me to do an Azriel taglist!

Azriel taglist:

@boygeniuses10 , @tothestarsandwhateverend , @starsinyourseyes , @bakananya

[kerryshifts]

The fact that you have a merlin Dr immediately kinda makes u my soul mate (ps please give me ideas for my script)

HI SOULMATE 😛 😛

okay here are some ideas!

1. you are a foreigner royal who's family is invited by uther pendragon to camelot, in order to celebrate an alliance or for economic exchanges. if you want a s/o (who's part of the royals) you can script that your family and the pendragons, in order to reinforce the alliance, make an arranged marriages between you and one of the pendragons. you will get married once you are mature enough, so you will stay at camelot and your family goes away to stay with your s/o + friends.

2. you are the long lost descendants of a very powerful house who were known as the dragons; fifteen years before, the house met their fate during the war against north (camelot) and south (your fam). it was told that no one survived, but the truth was that your last remaining dragon showed loyalty to the family by taking the two years old and heir to the south throne, away from the castle where the massacre was happening and saved you. kilgharrah, the dragon who saved you and loyal to your house, was captured by king uther during his war against magic and you were found and protected by gaius. if you want to marry arthur then this is also a way of you guys create albion

3. merlin's twin. basic storyline BUT HEY having all those powers is cool. if you want to be part of the prophecy…. merlin and arthur are two sides of the same coin, but you are the light guiding them and you are basically the only thing keeping them far apart from failure.

4. if you have a lover you can script that your romance started a legend. just because it’s cool asf

5. being a knight sounds so cool to me. if you are a girl you can script a mulan type of storyline or just script that you are so good (and noble) that uther allowed you.

6. arthur and his knight were hunting when they casually found this big ass tower. and oh! someone was singing! they were FLABBERGASTED when a bunch of loooooong hair fell down the only window. you thought that your “older sister” nimueh was coming, but instead sir leon started climbing your magical hair… then he understood that you were actually being held hostage and manipulated by nimueh: she wanted your powers, and everytime she combed your hair she got more power from you (does this make sense? HELP). when you got saved by the knights and the prince, and then arthur explained to uther that it was nimueh, uther let you stay at camelot… and merlin basically took you under his arm and explained you things about nimueh (who is not your older sister, just a witch) and magic, and gaius and merlin wanted to help you with yours.

7. the third (or second if you don’t want to count morgana) pendragon child. ugh the vibes of being a royallll and imagine falling in love with a knight TRUE MEDIEVAL ROMANCE (lancelot………. ugh i’m blushing)

if you want more things ASK!!!!!! i am full of ideas, maybe be more specific so i can give you more detailed things xxxx

[yaut-jaknowit]

Masterlist for Vic'tao and Uihoy

Vic'tao and Uihoy were a pair before meeting you, their little hunter. Vic'tao is the young male on the left... well somewhat young. That's what Uihoy just calls him. Uihoy is the elder on the right. Just a male wanting to live out the rest of his life in peace but he has you and Vic to make his life interesting.

Young, full of life, Vic'tao keeps you on your toes. He's spunky, maybe a little rude, but he's extremely protective of you. Both of them are when you go out on hunts with them. He doesn't under ooman emotions very well and leaves that to Uihoy. But, he'll cuddle with you if you ask nicely.

Lax, lazy, Uihoy is your emotional support. He's lived long enough to experience the rollercoasters of ooman emotions. Uihoy is a hardened warrior like most at his age. He likes to lounge around his spacious ship with you tucked into his side.

I also have a Kofi if anyone is interested but all of my stuff is free. So have at it.

Vic'tao's One-shots: 7 Uihoy's One-shots: 8 Vic'tao and Uihoy's One-shots: 20

Vic'tao (Male Yautja)

Our Hands Together (F)

Finder's Keepers, Looser Weepers (Light Angst)

Till The End Of Time (A/F)

Switching Roles (F/M)

Curiosity Led A Path (F/A)

Tables Have Turned (M)

Pushed Too Far (M)

Uihoy (Male Yautja)

Long Distances (F)

Flogged (F)

Go Slow (S/M)

Mating Season (M) Part 1

Worship My King (M)

Hate Until You're Knotted (M)

Right Here (M)

Short King (F)

Vic'tao and Uihoy

Demands are Met (F)

Battling Dangers (A/F)

New Discoveries (M)

First One to Make a Noise, Loses (M)

No Clothes on Board (M)

Need Isn't A Strong Enough Word (M/A/F)

It's Never Been Done Before (M)

I Need You (M/F)

To Break Apart (A/F)

Mating Season (M) Part 2

An Elder and His War Stories (F)

Chance of Fate (A)

Lost in Translation (?)

A Worthy Challenge (A?/F?)

Eyes Are The Window To The Soul (A/F)

Daddies (F/S?)

Low Tolerance (F)

Hiding In Plain Sight

Till All Are One (Heavy Angst)

Burst (M) - Vic'tao (Male Yautja) x Uihoy (Male Yautja)

[volterran-wine]

Plagues of the Mind || The Guards

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 @rainxbun: "If you are still taking headcanon requests, would you be able to do the guards x human mate who suffers from chronic migraines? I have chronic migraines irl and I love hearing headcanons for that, it’s very comforting! Thank you! 💕 🐇"

Good evening dear, and my apologies for getting to this request so late. But here is my answer to your inquiries. Now who I have chosen is left as s surprise below, hopefully that will be a little fun surprise for you.

𝐀𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

—  𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗

Knowing Felix he would probably ask if they wished to be turned sooner rather than later, knowing that it would remove the ailment all together. The executioner is damn near offering the bite himself, the thought of his mate in pain is torture in itself.

Would spend a good hour asking the secretary about how to best deal with headaches and migraines, seeing as though he is quite sure Roman remedies he remembers must be horribly outdated (gnawing on willow bark is not appropriate any longer).

If they need someone to massage their scalp through out the night he will gladly do so. If they are lucky their migraines flare up during the winter, meaning the executioners core temperature would be lower than normal.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

—  𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄𝐀

If there ever was a gentle and caring soul to watch over you during a horrible time; it is Chelsea. Several guards have ended up referring to her as mom, in various languages, and she considers it an honour that other view her as such.

The fussing would me immediate, perhaps even a little overbearing with how she would lock the two of them in a dark room the very moment a migraine hit. She would most likely send requests to Heidi depending on what they would need.

Would hum and run her fingers through their hair, a gentle tune she learned back during her tune she used to sing to her children.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

—  𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐈

As much as the tracker wants to pretend he know a and understands everything, human ailments is not one of them. Would have an initial panic attack about how to best deal with the situation. There is a 9/10 chance he will go straight to Heidi or Felix for help because he needs someone with more knowledge about humans to deal with this.

Demetri will probably hole them up in his own quarters, piling blankets and whatever he can find on top of them. Would return from a small drug store with every painkiller known to man, even the ones who are definitely not meant for any sort of headache.

If the tracker has to be away from Volterra he will regularly check in on them through their tenor. Though he normally cannot feel anything special, a part of him is convinced he is able to see if they are alright.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

—  𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐍

I believe Corin would go rather scientifically to work when it comes to helping an ailing human mate the short time they have left as a human. That means she is reading every research paper known to mortal or immortal, on the topic of migraines.

There will be ten kinds of painkillers, two glasses of water and a dark room at their disposal any time of the day. If their stomach is upset she will gladly cook light meals as well.

If push comes to shove she will try to use her gift to elevate the aches, with her being able to render just about anyone content she hoped it would lead to a moment of peace at the very least.

[harukadrawsthings]

Ash, how are the rest of your pokemon from the other regions and how did they react to Destiny? (Sorry. I could have sworn I sent this question here)

[ashensgrotto]

The Sea's Sacrifice (Part 2)

Characters: Azul Ashengrotto / Jade Leech / Floyd Leech x Fem!Reader

Total Word Count: 14.7k+

Part 1 Part 2 (You Are Here) Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Synopsis: A potential job as a marine biologist’s assistant leaves (Y/N) feeling something fishy going on behind the scene…

Author’s Notes: Original Idea came from @merakiui ’s annonymous ask with a short story / headcannon -> https://www.tumblr.com/merakiui/684490143936167936/ooohhh-i-love-those-writing-ideas-you-had-for-sea?source=share

and I absolutely love this concept and wanted to take it a step further. I don’t write yandere nor fanfiction as much as I did a few years ago. However, I do hope I do this piece justice; I will have links to the next part once it is completed and ready for viewing.

Also, this is a work of fiction. I disagree with anyone that justifies the following behaviors which are represented in this fic (if I think of more, I will add them as I go):

rape/non-consent/dub-consent, possessive/controlling/dominating behaviors, and manipulation

Come my love be one with the sea

Rule with me for eternity

Drown all dreams so mercilessly

And leave their souls to me

***

You don’t see the twins for the remainder of the day.

When you make mention of the encounter in passing to Crewel that evening, the man only smiles - and not in a warm way whatsoever.

“It would seem that our puppy here has peaked their interest,” the eccentric man grinned, an unsettling look on his face as he bares his teeth, “It’s interesting how Floyd has taken the first step, though - I thought for certain Jade would’ve been the one to approach you first.”

“Floyd? Jade?” you arch a brow at the black and white cloaked professor, “Those things have names?”

“They are not things, pup,” Crewel taps his cigarette case against the palm of his hand before pulling one out and lighting it up, “To answer your question, yes, the mers do have names. While you were waiting for them to make their first appearance with you, Trein and I have been working on cracking their communication code. All three speak in chirps, clicks, and coos - though their growls are both intriguing and nerve-wrecking. We believe, based on how quickly they chirp or click, they are either warning each other of danger, food, or saying each other’s names.”

“And how did you figure out their names?”

“It’s a mere guess - but the sound waves we see on our monitors follow a similar pattern as the sound waves in the air following the pronunciation of the names ‘ Jade ’ and ‘Floyd. ’ We’ve also hidden cameras in the enclosure and have heard them speak in our language during playback sessions after certain incidents - such as the attacks on our coworkers.” 

“And part of my job is to see how much of our language they know and potentially teach them more?”

“Well, it wouldn’t hurt to know how much they know or teach them,” Crewel chuckled, “one can’t be too careful with so much knowledge after all.”

‘Knowledge was power,’ you recalled someone telling you once long ago, ‘and too much power could either destroy you or save you.’

“Regardless,” Crewel continued, “I, personally, think it would be interesting to see exactly how much they know about us land dwellers. It would allow us to know if they are watching us and, if so, where we should look to find more - maybe even see how they live and coexist with each other, what parts of the ocean they are likely to hide out in… maybe even see how they mate!”

You sputter, “M-mate?!”

“Of course it’s perfectly natural for animals to go through mating seasons,” Crewel answered with a shrug, “For scientific purposes, it would be interesting to see if they mate like their animal forms or if they follow the human side of romantic courtship.”

‘I’m beginning to think you and the rest of this group are a bunch of perverts,’ you thought to yourself, grinding your teeth together, “And what are you going to do about… that particular question?”

“I think that is enough questions for the day,” Crewel raised his arms above his head, a popping noise indicating a cracked back as he let out a yawn, “Come, puppy. Both of us need rest - we’re going to have a busy day tomorrow.”

***

You didn’t see the twins when you first came in the following morning, nor even after depositing your stuff beside the coat rack and your lunch into the freezer. 

At first, you thought maybe they didn’t exist and you had dreamt up the encounter; but the memory of Crewel’s grin and comment about interacting with ‘Floyd’ kept replaying in your mind as you prepared the merfolks’ breakfast. As you leaned down to dump the second bucket into the pool, a sudden splash of water soaked you from head to toe - forcing you to drop your bucket and fall back on the concrete flooring, sputtering as giggles and clicking noises filled the room.  You brushed your damp hair and salted water away from your eyes as they fell on a familiar figure leaning over the edge of the pool.

Skin the color of seaweed shone under the dimmed fluorescent lights while a set of heterochromic eyes gleamed in delight at your surprise. A grin spread across the mer’s features, revealing a set of shark-like teeth that flashed in satisfaction, the dark teal strand falling in front of his features. 

You huff, grunting as you slowly stand and arch a brow at the creature, “Was that really necessary?”

The creature only beamed wider, clearly pleased with your reaction.

“Honestly, you scared me - nearly gave me a heart attack.”

The creature clicked a few times before pushing himself away and swimming around close to the edge, watching as you grab the last bucket and bring it to the edge.

“No more surprises, ok?” you eye the creature as you reach in and pull out a squid that was about the size of your palm - much larger than a fry, but too small for an adult - offering it to him, “I give you this, you won’t splash me again, deal?”

The moray mer chirps, moving his head in a nod and shifting his body slightly before you toss the squid in his direction. He catches it mid-air like a dog with a tennis ball, the squid dangling out of his mouth as he beams at you. You watch him carefully as you dump the contents into the water and he begins his meal. He starts with the tentacles, pulling them apart and gnawing on them while his webbed hands dug into the mantle of the miniature sea beast - strings of muscle, blood, and ink staining his features before crunching of bone echoes around.  

“Geez, take it easy,” you grumble, “no one is going to take it from you.”

The mer stops and regards you with a look that means, ‘Shut up, I’m trying to enjoy my meal.’

You return the buckets to the side of the freezer before grabbing your notebook and take a seat at the pool’s edge, opening it and beginning to jot down notes.

6:05 am: One of the mers has made an appearance this morning. Based on what I was told by Professor Crewel last night, I believe this one is Floyd - one of the twin morays. It’s hard to differentiate between the two of them, but if I had to venture a guess - Floyd is far more playful than his brother -

Nails clicked against the edge of the pool, forcing you to look up to see Floyd leaning over the edge, studying the word on the notebook. He shifted his gaze from the words before looking at you and back again. 

“What’s up?” 

Floyd chirped at you, crossing his arms and resting his chin on them, eyes watching your every movement as he continued to click and coo.

He stayed like this for the next several hours, clicks and chirps echoing in the room as you shifted between taking notes and partially listening to him. You figured he was telling you something, but since you didn’t understand him, you could only nod and hum in his direction as if you did understand. 

“Hungry,” he says eventually, the word throwing you off guard for a moment.

“Did you just.. Say ‘hungry’?” you asked, blink incredulously.

“Hungry,” Floyd said again, a grin spreading across his features, his eyes narrowing as he eyed you like a piece of shrimp.

“Alright, one moment Floyd,” you move to stand, only for your ankle to be caught by a webbed grip.

You turn, confused to see a look of surprise on the mer’s face.

“Name?” Floyd inquires.

“Are you asking if I know your name?” when the mer nods, you smile, “I was told your name. But, excuse me, I never introduced myself - I’m (Y/N). I’ve been tasked as your keeper.”

It was a white lie - a big one at that - but you weren’t sure if Floyd understood what ‘keeper’ meant nor if he understood that the three of them were under observation. However, you did want to be cautious in the event that in the case Floyd and the others did understand what was going on around them, you wouldn't be seen as a threat.

Floyd spoke your name softly, tasting the words on his tongue before grinning, baring sharp teeth as he shouted, “(Y/N)!” 

You couldn’t help but giggle a bit, murmuring behind a hand that covered your mouth, “That’s my name, don’t wear it out.”

Next thing you knew, Floyd launched himself from the edge of the pool and disappeared into the murky water, leaving you curious as to what he was up to. However, if he intended to splash you again, you weren’t going to stick around to find out.

You stood, stretching your back and legs before moving towards the freezer, with the intention of pulling out the three buckets for lunch when Floyd’s voice came again, “(Y/N)! (Y/N)!”

You turned with bucket in hand as Floyd approached the edge, his brother in tow - though he stayed at least a foot away from the edge, but keeping a close eye on you and his twin. You reach the edge a squat down, offering a smile to the second moray mer and a hand outstretched in a non-threatening manner. 

“Hello. You must be Jade, right?”

‘Jade’ lifts his head, allowing you to see his full face and neck, the water lapping at his shoulders, as surprise etched across his features. He blinks slowly, moving a little bit closer before his voice, soft and deep, speaks.

“Know name?”

‘So, Jade knows a few more words than Floyd,’ you think to yourself before nodding, “Yeah, I know your name. I told Floyd that I was told both of your names - I was assigned as your keeper for the time being.”

“Keeper?” Jade askes, head cocking to the side like a dog would.

“Yes, I’m in charge of taking care of you during the day. I’ll be here most of the time, except at night when I have to leave. But I’ll be here to feed you in the morning, afternoon, and evening, and spend time with you guys during the in between hours.”

The twins looked at each other, both clicking and chirping - eyes shifting between your crouched figure and themselves. The looks they shared during these few moments made you feel a bit uneasy, like they were sizing you up for a meal; it reminded you of the lewd glances you received from drunks at the bars you used to work when you first started working, hands sliding up your uniforms before one of the bartenders would step in and smack them away, reminding them the girls were not for touching. It made you shudder, goose pimples rising along your arms.

Jade seemed to notice, clicking softly at his brother as his features relaxed, heterochromia eyes softening on your figure.

“Hungry,” Jade’s voice brought you back, “We… are… hungry.”

***

It only took about a week for Jade to eventually warm up to you, the three of you getting along - even with Floyd’s continued antics.

From what you observed, Jade was the eldest of the two moray twins - he was courteous to you and most of the staff that had on more than one occasion popped in to check on you during your sessions with the two and often kept Floyd from getting too much out of hand; although he seemed to be the one that would antagonize his younger brother with a few clicks and chirps in his direction before Floyd would splash you with water or attempt to pull you in for a swim. Regardless, Jade was always there to pull his brother back while Floyd shrieked in mer - their native tongue that you supplied in your notes, thrashing about while the eldest cooed in delight at how quickly Floyd could be worked up. 

Jade was also very intelligent, often poking at the books you had brought along with you and chirping with curiosity. Unlike his brother, who had the attention span of a three-year-old, Jade listened intently to each word and pronounced them back to you with a few stutters here and there before saying the word like he was born to speak. He couldn’t form coherent sentences without the occasional click or chirp, but then again - speaking your native tongue was like you learning to speak his, it would take time and practice before he could reach that point. 

The easiest words for Jade are your name, the word ‘pearl,’ and greetings. He always glowers when the time comes for you to leave before grumbling in the water, bubbles appearing around his face as he sinks under the surface with only the top of his head and eyes peering out from beneath the enclosure’s water surface. Floyd had picked up on this and began copying his brother, both of them looking like angry puffer fish each time you leave the enclosure and lock the door behind you.

Trein stops you one evening on your way out, a black and white cat in his arms, “How are things going, little keeper?”

“I think I’m making progress,” you answer, holding out your filled up notebook from the first month to him, “Crewel requested I give you this at the end of the first month.”

“I should hope so,” Trein took the notebook, shifting the lazy cat in his arms around to flip through the pages, “I saw that you’ve become quite comfortable around the twins - Floyd nearly drowned you in the pool the other day, yes?”

“Almost, though I think he was just playing around,” you answer, “he’s like a little kid - so energetic.”

“Perhaps… How's the research on our cecaelia?”

“The cecaelia?”

Trein raised one brow as the cat harrumphed at you, “Did you forget there are three of them?”

“I suppose I did,” you gulp before shrugging sheepishly.

“Do not forget that there is more than just the twins in that enclosure,” Trein warned, closing the notebook with a loud snap in one hand, “The sea is as dangerous as its mysteries that lurk beneath its surface. The twins may be comfortable around you, but the cecaelia is something no one has ever seen, much less interacted with. If it were to pull you under the waters tomorrow, we’d never know what happened, and I doubt the twins would do much to save you either.”

“I won’t let anything happen,” you answer with a strong resolve, brows creasing inward, “besides, if Crewel’s hunch is correct, I might be able to get the twins to persuade the mer out if I play my cards right.”

“You better. Remember, you only have two months left. I’d like to see some progress before the end of next month.”

***

As was expected, the twins were no help at all.

Each day for the next week, you attempted to discuss the octomer with the twins - you figured if you could get more information about the mer in question, you might be able to indicate something about him in your notes. Unfortunately, the twins couldn't completely understand you - even when you drew out a picture of what appeared to be an octopus and tapped a finger against the drawing. They did, thankfully, seem to understand you were curious about the third member of their trio, with Floyd chirping "Octo-chan" a few times before disappearing under the water.

The only piece of information you could gather was a word, spoken by Jade when you first asked about the mer.

Azul.

But, azul was a color - blue, to be precise. What does "azul" have to do with an octopus? You contemplated this for several hours after the twins left you to your devices one morning. They had greeted you in their usual fashion before taking their leave and disappearing under the water. It had been about two weeks since Jade had spoken the word and even when you asked about it, the clicking and chirping that came from both mers had you scratching your head in confusion. 

Maybe "Azul" wasn't a color, but a name? Or code? 

You scratch the back of your neck as you look at the chart you've drawn out - hoping that you might get some answers. "Okay, let's see," you push the notebook forward and roll to lay on your stomach as the bottom end of the pen traces through the drawn lines and words, "Floyd and Jade are twins - that much is straightforward - and are literal polar opposites of each other. Other than looks, both of them are connected by the octomer who may or may not be named Azul. However, how are the three of them connected? How did they meet?"

You circle the question before moving on to the next part, "As for Azul - he doesn't seem fond of humans as the morays seem to be his protectors. We know he is an octopus, based on eyewitnesses during their capture - however, we don't know much else about him."

You tap your pen against the notepad before flipping through the other notebook that sat beside you, rereading all of the notes you had gathered during the course of the week when discussing the octomer to the morays. You shifted to a kneeling position, your body getting tired of laying flat on your stomach when you felt a pair of eyes watching you.

You turn your head toward the pool, eyes nearly popping out as a head dunks itself low, the top mop of white and lavender shaded hair falling across a set of unfamiliar sea blue eyes.

Dove gray skin glowed in the dimmed fluorescent lighting as the sea blue eyes peered at you curiously, pupils horizontal slits that expanded and constricted as the two of you locked eyes with each other. When he raised his head, the water revealed several long strands of silver that rested about chin length on the left side of his face - the rest of the starlight colored hair cut short with water dripping from the tips and creating little pointed tips on the ends. Full lips were slightly parted with surprise, a little beauty mark resting just below his bottom lip and nearly blocked by the long strand. Unlike Floyd and Jade, his ears matched that of a human - rounded and uncut by earrings many humans wore. Below him, you could only see blackness - a darkness that cut through the murky waters of the pool as multiple limbs shifted in the water.

Overall, the octomer was stunning.

You took a deep breath and smiled softly at him, holding out a hand to him, “Hello. It’s nice to finally meet you. Are you Azul?”

The octomer looks around cautiously before returning his gaze to you with a slow nod.

“You have a beautiful name, Azul. I’m (Y/N) - though I’m sure the twins told you about me.”

Azul nods, slowly reaching a hand out towards yours open one.

“(Y/N)?” the voice of Crewel comes from the entrance of the enclosure.

Startled, Azul disappears under the waves as the twins appear, a heavy wave of water dousing the two of you - causing the two of you to sputter in surprise. Jade growls at Crewel, snapping his jaws in a threatening manner while Floyd leans over the edge of the pool, getting into a protective stance in front of you and snarling at the professor before shifting his gaze at you with worry.

The only thing you can think of as you watch the scene before you unfold is, ‘Did I manage to become a part of Jade and Floyd’s group? If so, what happens now?’

[evans23]

RICKMAS 2024 - DAY 5 - Open Doors

Pairing : Sinclair Bryant x OC (Contessina)

Summary : Five Christmas during which Sinclair realises that sometimes, closing one door opens a thousand others.

Tag(s)/Warning(s) : Mention of incest.

A/N : Puppy boy is back !

Also on AO3

December 24, 2020

Sinclair, for the first time in his 39 years of existence, did not feel like celebrating Christmas. His divorce had been finalized at the very end of November. A difficult divorce, not so much because of his ex-wife who had too much to reproach herself for to really argue about silver vases and spoons, but for the nature of the betrayal.

Sinclair wasn't in the mood to celebrate, but William, his friend and the judge who had finalized his divorce had insisted, telling him that he had been moping for a year now and that it was high time to move on. Or at least try. And it was not like Sinclair not to try.

"Sinclair, my friend, life is a succession of rooms and in each room, there are people who mark your life for better or for worse. Natalie was not a good person and I am sorry for what she did to you, but it is time for you to close this door and open a new one," William had wisely said.

And Sinclair had given in. Not really because he had been convinced by the philosophy of doors and rooms, but because he did not really want to be alone for Christmas, and deep down, he knew that his friend was right. It was time to move on, to turn the page, to close the door. His parents were on a trip to Sardinia and all his friends and colleagues had family plans when he had to mourn the family he would never have.

Family... a word that left a bitter taste in Sinclair's mouth, he who had believed he had found his soul mate in Natalie and the mother of his children. Now he wasn't so sure he'd ever have the chance to have children. He wasn't sure he'd ever fall in love again.

Sinclair shook his head as if to shake off all the bad memories. He was in front of William's house, a bottle of his best champagne in his hand. Sinclair had learned at a young age from his own father that one should never arrive empty-handed. His friend's sumptuous house, which was more of a small manor than a house, had been sumptuously decorated by his wife while the buffet - prepared by professionals - already had his mouth watering in anticipation.

Sinclair rang the bell and William greeted him with reserved kindness.

"You've come ! That's good ! Come in, hurry up."

"For your table," Sinclair said, handing him the bottle.

"A Dom Pérignon ! You shouldn't have," William said, taking the bottle with sparkling eyes.

Sinclair then lingered by the fireplace. It was not his habit, he usually so outgoing, ready to become friends with everyone, he who always had something to say found himself petrified. Natalie had left much more of a mark on his soul than he himself would have believed.

That's when he saw her. Alone in a corner, she seemed to want to disappear, like him. She didn't seem to be from the same world as Richard, or even Sinclair. Probably a friend of his wife who was the headmistress of a private school for girls in central London. Intrigued, Sinclair approached to greet her. She was pretty in her purple dress, a dress he was sure to have seen on a famous singer but he couldn't remember her name.

"Are you all right?" he asked kindly.

She just nodded with a small smile that didn't reach her eyes. But beneath her apparent coldness, Sinclair could see a gentleness and a light that was just waiting to be revealed.

"My name is Sinclair. Sinclair Bryant," he introduced himself.

"Nice to meet you, Sinclair, I'm Contessina," she replied softly.

"It's a very pretty name," Sinclair said sincerely, "not very English," he added with a twinkle of curiosity in his eye.

"My father is Italian," she replied before quickly adding that her mother was English, as if having mixed ancestry was a fault.

Sinclair told her about a trip he had taken to Rome. She admitted, shyly, that she had never had the opportunity to set foot in Italy. Sinclair sensed her unease, so he tried not to brag too much about his travels across Europe. Contessina and he must have had very different childhoods. Sinclair had grown up with a father who had one foot in business and the other in politics and a mother who was a lawyer who had put her career on hold to take care of him after his birth, a sacrifice she had never regretted because in her opinion, her son was her greatest achievement.

"Are you friends with William or his wife?" Sinclair asked casually.

"His wife. I work for her. I teach English and drama."

"Oh ! Are you acting in theatre ?" Sinclair asked with renewed enthusiasm.

Contessina seemed as enthusiastic as Sinclair to talk about one of her passions. And the conversation continued with Sinclair's incessant questions that didn't seem to bother her in the least.

interlocutor, though she asked few in return.

He knew before the meal that she had spent two years at drama school before having to drop out when her parents could no longer afford to pay for her tuition. She had failed to get a scholarship, so she had worked a series of unfulfilling jobs before settling on teaching. It had not been her dream career, at least not when she was a teenager, but she had eventually found a certain comfort in it that had erased her past failures. She lived alone in London, her father having moved to Blairgowrie after her mother died to be closer to his brother, and Sinclair could tell that she must not have made friends easily. She was reserved, though not without wit and intelligence. Talking to her was a treat. She could talk about anything and was not ashamed to admit when she did not know something. But most of all, she was interested in what he was saying and that was a change for Sinclair.

During the meal, he made sure to sit next to her. They continued to talk about everything and nothing and for the first time in a long time, the weight in Sinclair's chest had gone away. He wasn't thinking about the events of almost two years ago. There was no more Natalie, Richard, betrayal in his parents' bed, under his own roof, before his eyes and the eyes of the housekeeper.

Shortly before midnight, the two were sipping a glass of Sinclair's champagne. She had finally dared to ask Sinclair what he did for a living and, although she admitted that she didn't understand much about his job, she listened to him talk passionately about what he did and his clients... who sometimes had unconventional habits.

Midnight finally struck, Christmas arrived and Sinclair felt that in a few days, the new year would finally bring him new peace.

"Merry Christmas, Sinclair," she said with her enigmatic smirk.

"Merry Christmas, Contessina."

A half hour later, much to Sinclair's dismay, she was leaving the party.

"I can give you a ride if you want ?" he offered.

"No, it's not necessary, I don't live far away."

Sinclair doubted it. She was in one of the most expensive neighbourhood in the city, but he didn't insist.

"I was glad to have you as my companion for the evening," she added as she put on her coat and scarf.

"Me too !" Sinclair exclaimed with a big smile, "I didn't notice the time go by."

He watched her go down the steps when suddenly she turned around.

"Sinclair ?"

"Yes ?"

"You should smile more often. It suits you."

And without adding anything else, she disappeared into the night, leaving those simple words etched in Sinclair's mind forever.

He had felt something new but he had preferred not to push it further. He could have asked William to find his phone number, to get everything she knew about Contessina from his wife, but he didn't. He wasn't ready to be hurt again.

However, fate seemed to want to put Contessina in his path. Three months later, Sinclair saw her again at a market. She was buying small perfumes to offer to her students for Easter which would soon arrive and, as if she were a magnet that attracted him, Sinclair had not been able to turn around to avoid her. He had invited her to share lunch with him, then dinner and after that, there had been other dinners, evenings at the movies, galas for his work and then a whole weekend at his place, then a whole week. And slowly but surely, Contessina had made her way into his heart just as Sinclair had made his way into the young woman's.

December 24, 2021

Over the months, the relationship between Sinclair and Contessina had evolved, had built itself, without rushing, with caution, with respect, with trust. There wasn't a day when the two did not see each other and tonight, Sinclair wanted to take an important step.

It was the first Christmas that Sinclair had had at his place since his divorce and he had decided to do things simply. Contessina was his only guest. He had cooked a simple, unpretentious meal and bought a dessert from his favourite bakery, a dessert without fruit since Contessina had once told him that a dessert with fruit wasn't a real dessert.

The table was elegant. Sinclair had set a white and gold tablecloth on which he had placed candles and a few flowers prettily arranged in the vases he had inherited from his grandmother. In the background, he had put on Christmas carols, as cliché as they come.

"It's beautiful, Sinclair," Contessina said as she discovered the dining room.

Near the door that led to the veranda, the large fir tree dominated, splendid with its multi-coloured light garland and its glass balls.

"Is this a real tree ?" she asked, gently touching the needles.

"Yes. My father didn't like artificial trees. We always had real trees at my house."

"It's funny, my mother didn't like real trees so we always had a synthetic one. A faded green tree. But it didn't take away from the warmth of the party."

It was the first time she wasn't spending Christmas with her dad, but she knew he was fine, doing it with his brother and his family and most important : he was happy that his daughter seemed to have found a good man. He had met Sinclair thrice and he have had a very good impression of the man. 

Sinclair smiled at her, gently kissing her temple. Contessina brought a simplicity to his life that he had never known. She didn't seek luxury, she wasn't after her money and she liked simple things. This wasn't really the case for Sinclair who had grown up with money and firmly believed in spending it. He liked beautiful things and collecting expensive objects, but this contrast between them brought a certain balance to his life, a balance that did him good.

"I hope you like it. I spent hours in the kitchen," Sinclair said as he arranged the dishes on the table.

Contessina hadn't imagined that Sinclair was the cooking type, and she was pleasantly surprised, even touched by the attention he had put into making everything perfect for their first Christmas just the two of them.

A little before midnight, Sinclair decreed that it was time to open the presents, as excited as a child, which made Contessina laugh with a crystal-clear laugh that, after a year, still made Sinclair shiver.

"Mine first," she said as she handed him a large package that weighed quite a bit in his small hands.

Sinclair unwrapped it without ceremony and his eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and joy.

"Where did you get that ?" he asked incredulously.

"One of my colleagues knows someone who knows someone who works for an antique dealer."

Sinclair shook his head in disbelief.

"Are you happy ?" she asked shyly.

"Am I happy ? Contessina, you managed to find that impossible to find book of poems ! I didn't even think you would remember it !"

Sinclair kissed her tenderly and a slight red colour rose on the young woman's cheeks. Of course she had remembered what he had told her. She was like that, reserved, speaking little although she had many interesting things to say, but she always remembered the important things. Like him, except that Sinclair talked to her all the time.

"Mine now," he said, handing her a very small box.

She unpacked it carefully to find a key. She looked up at him questioningly, one eyebrow raised.

"This is the key to here," Sinclair explained. "All this coming and going... it's a bit redundant, isn't it? And you're here more often than you're in your shared apartment. Stop spending your money to live in this chicken coop and move in with me."

She looked at him, unsure of what to say, and Sinclair felt panic rising in him. Had he wanted to move too fast ?

"Are you serious ?" she finally asked, "I thought you weren't ready," she added.

"I thought so too, but that was before. Contessina, I want to move on. It's time for me to open a new door, to enter a new room, and I want to be in this room with you. I want you to be the one to mark my life for the better."

Contessina squeezed the key between her fingers, nodding briskly, her eyes slightly moist.

"Is that a yes ?"

"That's a yes," she said, standing on tiptoe to kiss him.

"This is the most enjoyable Christmas I've ever had," Sinclair said, resting his forehead against Contessina's.

December 24, 2022

It had been almost a year since Contessina had moved in with Sinclair. They had gotten to know each other better, to live together, to discover and accommodate each other's little flaws. They had had their first fight, their second, their third, but they had never gone to bed angry. That was Contessina's rule: he always had to settle their differences before he went to sleep.

Sinclair's rule was that he should never hide anything from each other. He wanted honesty, even if it hurt. She shouldn't hide anything from him, neither her sorrows, nor her torments, nor what annoyed her about him and above all, above all, if one day she fell in love with someone else, she had to tell him. She should never make fun of him.

Sinclair had insisted so much on this last point that Contessina had timidly asked him if he had been betrayed in the past. Sinclair had hesitated, but in the end, he had told her everything. He owed her that much, after all if he demanded total honesty from her, he had to be so with her in return. Contessina couldn't hold back her grimace of disgust when Sinclair had told her that Natalie had slept with her own brother, in the sheets of her parents' bed.

"When you say her brother... you mean her half-brother, right ? Not a real brother right ? They don't really have blood in common," Contessina had asked.

"No, her real blood brother by blood," Sinclair had coldly answered.

It had made her feel sick. How could this woman she didn't know but never wanted to meet, firstly betray a man like Sinclair who would have served her the moon on a silver platter if she had asked for it, and secondly with her own brother ? 

And to top it all off, she had the nerve to get fucked like the female dog she was in Sinclair's parents' bed.

But this revelation had helped Contessina to better understand Sinclair, to better understand some of his behaviours and to definitively tolerate his possessiveness and his slight jealousy that had annoyed her a little at first.

Sinclair felt that he didn't really have any reason to doubt her. He didn't imagine her as the type to sleep with another and she was an only child. But he had wounds that didn't would never truly heal and he couldn't put to sleep that primal instinct that had awakened in him when he realized he was in love with her. That instinct that pushed him to protect what was his, in this case her. He loved her, deeply. She was his second chance and he couldn't bear to have his happiness taken away from him again. She was his redemption.

That Christmas, he was spending it at Sinclair's parents' house. It wasn't the first time he'd taken her there, but it was the first time she'd celebrate Christmas with them. He'd been reassured when his mother had told him one evening on the phone that she adored her. She was kind, polite, well-mannered and much more cultured than "the other one".

Of course, Sinclair's parents didn't know the whole story, he had been too ashamed to tell them that apparently he was such a poor husband that his wife had needed to find comfort in sticking his brother's penis in her sheath, but when he had told them of their divorce, he had been surprised to see the relief of his parents who had finally admitted to him that they had never loved him.

"She wasn't the one for you," his mother had whispered to him, "but she, Contessina... she can hold a conversation with you. She's interested in what interests you even if at first she thought she wouldn't like it. She reads your books, she watches the movies you like... and you do the same... She's the one, my boy."

His mother's approval that night had definitively erased any doubts he had been able to harbour. And as midnight struck and everyone exchanged enthusiastic "Merry Christmas," Sinclair watched Contessina get a kiss on the cheek from her slightly tipsy father and smiled. He had done well three years ago to agree to try to close the door to his past and open a new one a crack. He had done so shyly, but that half-open door that had pushed him to accept William's invitation had introduced him to Contessina. She was in the right room at the right time and his life had changed.

December 24, 2023

Sinclair and Contessina had flown to Italy five days earlier. He had promised to show her Rome and he had kept his word. He had taken him to all the tourist spots, from the Colosseum to the Vatican, had made him eat pizza at what he thought was the best pizzeria in the city, and had convinced him to eat "the best ice cream in the whole world" despite the bitter winter cold.

On this Christmas Eve, they were sitting at a table in a fancy restaurant that Sinclair had booked for the privacy it offered. In their alcove, away from prying eyes, they shared different varieties of pasta, grilled meats, and tasty vegetables.

"I'm so happy to be here with you," Sinclair told him as he poured him a glass of champagne.

"And I'm so grateful that you introduced me to Italy," she said, her eyes sparkling with joy.

"We'll see many other places, I promise. How about Paris for the spring ? And maybe Florence for the summer ? You wanted to see where Da Vinci had lived, right ?"

"Sinclair ! You spoil me too much," Contessina replied, a slight pinkness on her cheeks.

"Nothing is too much for you," Sinclair replied firmly.

And he meant it. She brought him a happiness, a joy that he thought he would never find again. He had known many people since his childhood. Each one in different rooms, each one who had marked him, hurt him, shaped him, broken him sometimes too. He had had to close many doors, open others, sometimes open windows when the doors refused to open, but he felt an endless gratitude for the door that had opened on this woman in front of him who looked at him as if he were the most wonderful person in the world.

Dessert arrived. A tiramisu, Contessina's favourite dessert, and fresh fruit. But before she could sink her fork into what she called the dessert of the Gods, Sinclair grabbed both of her hands in one of his.

Contessina raised her green eyes to Sinclair's, eyes in which he could read her soul and in his soul, the sincerity of the love she had for him. This was the moment, he was sure of it. The dim light of the restaurant reflected on his curved nose. His heart was beating wildly.

"Contessina, meeting you is the best thing that could have happened to me. I didn't think I'd get a second chance, but you are my second chance. And I just regret not having had the patience to wait longer for you to be my one and only chance."

He let go of her hands to take a small velvet box from the inside pocket of his jacket. Contessina briefly closed her eyes, sensing what was coming.

"Contessina," Sinclair began as he gently opened the box, "will you marry me ?"

The young woman's eyes immediately filled with tears she had been holding back. Before her was the most beautiful ring she had ever seen. A sapphire surrounded by small diamonds set in a gold band.

"Contessina ?" Sinclair asked with emotion as she was slow to answer.

"Oh, Sinclair ! Yes ! Yes! A thousand times yes !"

Sinclair took her left hand and placed the ring on her ring finger, his own eyes misting with tears.

"I promise to be the best of husbands," Sinclair said as he kissed each of her fingers.

"And I promise to be the best of wives, Sinclair."

And seven months later, in a small, discreet church in Paddington, Sinclair and Contessina said yes to each other for better or for worse, even if Sinclair had no doubt that he would only get the best since he had already had the worst.

December 24, 2024

In his arms, Contessina had fallen asleep, still exhausted from the last few frightening days she had spent. Sinclair did not blame her, he knew that although she hid her weaknesses, and although he didn't doubt her strength, she still had to heal. Her body had been tested, more than it should have been. She had lost a lot of blood, but fortunately, the doctors had managed to stabilize her and had assured Sinclair that she would recover provided she stayed warm, hydrated and fed properly to regain her strength, and above all, had plenty of rest.

It had been their little secret for a long time. As long as she could hide it. On the wedding day, no one had noticed anything except Sinclair who could discern the subtle changes in the body of the woman he loved most in the world. He and apparently the father of his brand new wife, but he couldn't blame the old man for knowing his daughter so well.

When she had announced to him one evening in April that he was going to be a father, Sinclair, for the first time, had been at a loss for words, which had made the young woman burst out laughing.

"You fill me with joy," he had finally said, taking her in his arms and squeezing her with all his strength as if he was afraid she might disappear.

The pregnancy had not been easy. Contessina had nothing of the fulfilled mother-to-be. She threw up all the time, her back, legs and feet hurt all day long and at six months pregnant, she had to stop working when her placenta had slightly detached, causing bleeding that had nearly made Sinclair's heart stop.

But there had also been good times. The baby's first kicks as Sinclair, his head resting on his wife's belly, read him a Dickens story. His moments when his wife's eyes shone with an indefinable sparkle that made her even more radiant or how she had shone by his side, head held high despite her discomfort, during an important evening at Sinclair's work celebrating his brand new promotion.

There had also been the decorating of the baby's room, their little quarrel over whether or not he would know the sex of the baby - Sinclair absolutely wanted to have the surprise, and he had won - and all the evenings when, despite his own fatigue, Sinclair had patiently massaged his feet.

The baby had finally arrived two weeks early. Contessina had woken up in the middle of the night and Sinclair had woken up with a start when she had shaken him lightly.

"I think the baby is coming," she had said with tears in her eyes.

Without waiting, Sinclair had helped him put on a pair of jogging pants and one of his own t-shirts, had put him in the car where the maternity bag had already been in the trunk for over a month and had driven him to the hospital. And indeed, their little treasure, eager to celebrate Christmas with his parents, hadrents, were ready to show themselves. The delivery had been long, tiring, stressful, especially when she had started to lose so much blood that the doctors had had to take her to the operating room to perform an emergency cesarean, leaving Sinclair alone in a sanitized hallway that stank of disinfectant and where a rickety Christmas tree had been placed.

He had been afraid that night, afraid of losing his wife and child, of losing his child, or worse still of losing his wife. But the two of them had held on, two true warriors who had won this battle against life and death, who had broken down the door of survival.

And it was with joy that Sinclair had opened the door of their house to this new little being that he had loved at first sight. His flesh and blood. His son.

"Sinclair ?"

Sinclair came back to reality when he heard the voice of Contessina who had just woken up.

"Are you okay, my love ?" he asked her, smoothing a strand of her brown hair behind her ear while she was rubbed her eyes in a very cute way that reminded Sinclair their young baby.

She moaned slightly before sitting up with Sinclair's help, who, without her having to say it, guessed the pain she was still feeling.

"I think I could use a hot chocolate," she whispered, her voice still hoarse with sleep.

Sinclair immediately complied as she sat comfortably on the couch, noticing that Sinclair had just started the first episode of the Lord of the Rings trilogy.

Her body was still aching. She knew she had to be patient. She had had a lucky escape in that operating room, that room where they had put her into an artificial sleep to get her baby out of her body, to save their lives.

When she woke up, in her hospital room, the two men of her life were there: her father and her husband. Finally, the three men of her life, since in her grandfather's arms was her son.

She would never forget the emotion she felt when Sinclair took the baby back to place him in his arms.

"I waited for you for the name," he had told her while kissing her on the forehead.

She briefly closed her eyes while smiling softly at her memories when Sinclair's voice brought her back to reality.

"My lady's hot chocolate. And mine," he said while placing two steaming cups, full of marshmallows, on the coffee table.

A small whimper was then heard right next to them, in the small crib that was in the living room.

"I'll get him," Sinclair said while standing up.

He came back with their little boy in his arms and sat next to Contessina who rested her head against his shoulder, as well as a protective hand on her son's stomach, which was still sensitive because he's difficult start in life. But with a loving mother and a strong and caring dad, he will be very soon becoming stronger.

"He's beautiful," Sinclair said, looking at him with the same wonder she had when the nurse had come to put him in her arms.

"He looks just like you," Contessina said, kissing Sinclair's cheek.

"Thank you," Sinclair said, his hazel eyes looking into his wife's.

"For telling you that our son looked like you ?"

"No, for coming into my life. For giving me hope in love again. For agreeing to marry me, for never telling me to go away when I talk too much, for genuinely caring about me, for always supporting me and him. Thank you for giving me our child. For giving me a family."

Contessina snuggled closer to him, moved.

"Thank you, Sinclair, for noticing me and for never thinking that I wasn't good enough to be in your life. In your world."

Sinclair rested his chin against the top of Contessina's skull without ever taking his eyes off their child. 

Thomas Sinclair Bryant. 

His son. His heir. The fruit of his love with the true woman of his life, the one with whom he would grow old and face the trials of illness, of old age, but not for a long time. 

Before being old and sick, they still had many things to experience together with their little boy. Many doors to close, many doors to open, rooms to explore. And Sinclair, overwhelmed by happiness, made a promise to himself to help his son get out of the rooms where the people who will be there will have bad intentions, to help him choose his path carefully, but above all, he would teach him that no matter the difficulties of life, the trials and sufferings, he should always have the courage to get up and open a new door.

[faithsmadhouse]

As 1K Celebration Drabble Game 🎉

I can’t believe we’ve hit 1,000 followers — thank you all so much for the love, support, and pure chaos you bring into my inbox 🥹💖

To celebrate, we’re turning up the heat with a spicy mini drabble game!

📩 How to Play—

Send me:

➡️ A character (or ship!)

➡️ Your reader preference: male / female / gender neutral reader

➡️ A kink, spicy scenario, or trope (as tame or filthy as you like 👀)(I do have a prompt list)

➡️ [Optional: pick a spice tag below to guide the tone!]

I’ll write a short, 100–500 word spicy drabble based on the requests I vibe with most! (Anons are ON, but don’t be shy 😉)

💌 Example Ask:

“Can I get Bucky Barnes with a male reader — rough dom vibes, 🥵 tag?”

Tag System — Choose Your Flavor

(Include one of these in your ask to help guide the vibe!)(I’ll make a prompt list also)

🍓 #softserve — soft smut / tender moments

Think: praise, slow kisses, pillow talk, gentle touches, emotional intimacy.

🥵 #extraheat — rougher / dom vibes / more intense

Think: biting, brat taming, manhandling, breath play, light degradation.

💦 #riskywhispers — semi-public / tension / teasing

Think: sneaky hands, locker rooms, risky texts, almost-getting-caught energy.

💘 #crushcore — spicy but flirty / pining / butterflies

Think: teasing, jealous kisses, building tension with sweetness.

🖤 #feralhours — full unhinged thirst / no thoughts just kink

🩸 #bloodbound — bloodplay / biting / feeding

Think: fang marks on inner thighs, slow bleeding kisses, feeding from your lover in the middle of a moan.

🕷️ #chasedown — predator/prey chase kink

Think: growls in the dark, running just to be caught, panting against a tree trunk, fear and desire indistinguishable.

⛓️ #takemeanyway — CNC / power games / forced pleasure

Think: whispered “no”s that mean “yes,” wrists pinned, rough hands, the sharp edge of trust.

🖋️ #markmeyours — ownership / objectification

Think: being called a thing, collars, being used without question, whispered affirmations of possession.

🕶️ #daddysrules — power imbalance / age gap / villain x hero

Think: “You shouldn’t want this.” / “But I do.” Office desks, evil lairs, dangerous hands teaching obedience.

🖤 #mineforever — obsessive lovers / yandere vibes

Think: “I’ll kill for you.” / “I’ll die for you.” Tracking their scent, locking the doors, touching even when they’re asleep.

🧷 #sharptouches — knifeplay / sensory teasing

Think: a blade tracing your ribs, cold metal on flushed skin, whispered “don’t flinch” as it presses deeper.

💌 #youaskedforit — dangerous desires / corrupted innocence

Think: “You said you wanted me. Now take it.” Fulfilling fantasies you didn’t know were nightmares.

🫀 #devotionundone — worship kink / ruin kink / dark devotion

Think: trembling prayers between kisses, “let me suffer for you,” kneeling at their feet for love or punishment.

Think: hands tied, overstimulation, marking, total loss of control.

🕯️Supernatural Spice Tags🕯️

Pick one if your request features creature characters or paranormal vibes!

🩸 #bittenandbound — vampires / bloodplay / possessive thirst

Think: fangs at your throat, blood-drinking as intimacy, eternal obsession.

🌕 #howlforme — werewolves / primal kink / mates

Think: scenting, growling, rough hands, claiming, heat-of-the-moment chaos.

🔥 #demonzaddy — demons / deals / dark temptation

Think: sinfully smooth talkers, corruption kink, soul-bonded desire.

👁️ #eldritchcrush — gods / creatures / otherworldly obsession

Think: worship kink, reality-bending touches, you’re theirs—body and soul.

🕊️ #hauntmepls — ghosts / deathless love / lingering touches

Think: soft hauntings, lingering love, chilly hands, a love that won’t die

👼 #blessmeslower — angels / divine kink / forbidden touch

Think: holy hands doing unholy things, wings wrapping around you, god complex energy.

🍯 #faefucked — fae / trickster vibes / intoxicating pleasure

Think: glamours, sweet lies, deals sealed with kisses, “you should’ve known better.”

🔮 #hexmebaby — witches / spellwork / magical seduction

Think: enchanted toys, love potions, moaning mid-incantation, you’re under their spell.

😈 #dreamdrained — incubi / wet dreams / hunger kink

Think: seductive nightmares, breathy midnight visits, feeding off pleasure, “don’t bother waking up, I’m not done.”

🔻💞Ploy spice tags💞🔻

💧 #sharedaddiction — possessive poly / touch-starved trio / overwhelming need

Think: “She’s mine.” “Ours.” Hands dragging you back into bed, mouths meeting over your skin, neither of them willing to let go. You’re their favorite drug, and they never take you separately.

🔥 #threewayburn — jealous kisses / competitive poly / rough love triangle

Think: “You love me more.” / “Then prove it.” Tongues clashing over your moans, one gripping your throat while the other strokes you softly, both trying to ruin you first.

🎭 #hungerandhoney — soft x rough dynamic / duality kink / poly push-pull

Think: One of them calls you baby and holds you like you’re glass. The other calls you slut and makes you cry. You crave both. You get both. And they love watching each other love you in their own way.

🌙 #keptbythem — dom x dom x sub / worship kink / overindulgence

Think: two lovers tending to you like a shrine—tongues, fingers, praise, degradation. “Be still.” “Be good.” “Take all of us.” They use your body like it was made to be shared, and you thank them for every second.

🩸 #twobeadsoneblade — poly yandere / violence kink / twisted loyalty

Think: “You’ll never need anyone else.” / “You’re safest between us.” One breaks bones for you, the other kisses them better. Both would kill to keep you. And neither asks for permission to have you.

💞 #allforyou — soft doms / blanket pile kink / devoted lovers

Think: warm mouths, soft sighs, arms pulling you closer from every side. They make love to you like it’s sacred, like your body’s the only altar they’ve ever worshipped at. Slow thrusts, endless eye contact, whispered confessions between kisses

🕷️ #caughtintheweb — manipulative lovers / control kink / trapped devotion

Think: “You said you’d stay forever.” / “Now you don’t get to leave.” One pins your wrists. The other strokes your cheek gently. “You belong to us now. Say it again.” Locked doors, velvet ropes, kisses that leave bruises and promises.

💤 #dreamteamdelirium — sleep kink / overstimulation / possessive protectiveness

Think: one of them takes you gently, whispering soft things while the other sleeps curled around you. Then the other wakes up and joins in. You lose count of how many times you come. You never ask them to stop.

🧨 #volcanobetweenus — love-hate poly / exes x reader / rage-fueled tension

Think: angry hands in dark hallways, jealousy-laced kisses, sex that tastes like war. “You still want him?” / “Only when you’re watching.” Fights turn into fucks, and no one ever apologizes. But they never leave.

🌹 #reverentruin — romantic poly / service kink / desperate love

Think: “Please, please, let us take care of you.” / “You don’t have to be strong here.” They kiss your tears, clean your wounds, lay you down like a sacrifice and make you feel holy again. Their mouths worship, their hands mark, their hearts ache.

🪞 #mirrorplaymenace — exhibitionism / voyeurism / performance kink

Think: “Watch yourself come on both of us.” Mirrors surround the bed. One of them films, the other makes you sob. They both love showing you what you look like under their control. “Smile for us, baby. You’re perfect.”

🔐 #theirlittlesecret — forbidden poly / hidden love / public vs private

Think: “No one can know.” / “Then let’s make it worth it.” Secret touches at parties, bruises under clothes, stolen kisses in locked rooms. They own you in the shadows. And you love being their dirty little secret.

🌪️ #stormsyourskin — primal kink / feral lovers / chase and claim

Think: panting breaths in the forest, teeth at your throat, blood beneath fingernails. “Run.” / “We’ll catch you.” Two predators, one prey. When they find you, they don’t stop until you forget your own name.

🧸 #spoiledbythem — sugar poly / dom x dom x brat / indulgence kink

Think: “Be good and we’ll give you everything.” You pout and they laugh, feeding you bites, letting you grind in their laps while shopping bags pile up. Later? They bend you over the vanity and remind you exactly who pays for your pleasure.

🕯️ #soulstitchedtogether — reincarnated love / eternal lovers / tragic devotion

Think: “We always find each other.” They remember every lifetime. Every death. Every time they shared you and lost you. This time, they don’t plan to let you go. Sex like a ritual. Kisses like prayers. A third heart between two souls.

📿 #sacredsubmission — priest kink / sinner x reader x savior / religious themes

Think: “Confess.” One whispers sermons in your ear. The other unzips your dress behind the altar. You’re caught between heaven and hell, with two tongues tasting your repentance. “Say amen while you come.”

💀 #chokemekissmekeepme — soft dom x mean dom x ruined sub / degradation + praise

Think: “You’re such a good little slut.” / “But only for us.” One wraps a hand around your throat while the other brushes tears from your cheeks. You’re their sweet little plaything—and they’re not sharing you with anyone else.

⛓️ #samedungeonheart — consensual captivity / bondage kink / dark devotion

Think: locked in silk and leather, blindfolded while they whisper in stereo. “Whose toy are you?” “Say it louder.” They don’t hurt you. Not really. They just keep you exactly where they want you—gasping, sobbing, loved.

🦷 #bittersweat — vampire poly / blood kink / centuries of desire

Think: “You taste like forever.” One bites while the other kisses. One drains, the other soothes. You’ve been theirs for centuries. Their little human. Their midnight meal. Their sacred obsession

🌶 Fandoms:

Marvel • Formula One • Hockey • The Night Agent • Sinners • supernatural • Smallville • WWE

(Feel free to ask if your fave isn’t listed!)

Let’s be a little unhinged to celebrate 😈

Asks are OPEN NOW

Track the tag: #faiths1kspicecelly and faiths1kferalhours

Want a softer game too? Check my main 1K post here: [Ice-man-goes-bwoah] coming soon

Going on through the whole month of June!!!!

Let’s make it hot in here 🔥

You got me to 1K… now let’s get shameless.

Send in your favorite characters, your kinkiest thoughts, and your softest smut dreams.

I’ll take care of the rest 😘

Spicy / Suggestive (NSFW-ish or Flirty)

“Is that my shirt you’re wearing?”

Heated glances across the room

“Close the door.”

A kiss that gets out of hand

Neck kisses

“You like teasing me, don’t you?”

Interrupted makeout session

Helping them undress

“One more round?”

“I want you. Now.”

“Tell me what you want. I want to hear you say it.”

“If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to ruin you.”

Post-battle adrenaline turns into a heated make-out session (or more).

“I want to take my time with you.”

Soft touches turn rough when one of them finally snaps.

“Take your clothes off. Slowly.”

“Use your words. What do you want?”

“Don’t hold back—I want to hear every sound you make.”

“On your knees. Now.”

“You’re shaking. Is that from how good it feels?”

“I’ve been thinking about you all day. Can I show you how badly?”

“Try to stay quiet. I dare you.”

“Messy. I want it messy.”

“Do you want me to stop?” / “Don’t you dare.”

“You’re so wet already. Did I do that?”

One of them walks in on the other touching themself and stays to watch—or joins.l

An intense sparring session turns into something much more physical.

They hook up in a semi-public place, trying (and failing) to be quiet.

Stripping off wet clothes after being caught in the rain, and realizing they’re not just cold anymore.

Lazy morning sex, all slow kisses and whispered praise between sheets.

Angry sex with a lot of pinning, biting, and unresolved tension finally snapping.

Using a toy in front of them—because they asked to watch.

They try something new in bed… and end up liking it a lot more than expected.

Making out against a wall becomes grinding, becomes hands under clothes, becomes oops, we’re naked.

Aftercare so good it nearly makes them cry.

Praise kink: “You’re doing so good for me.”

Light bondage: hands tied with a scarf, blindfolded, fully trusting them.

Size kink: “You’re not going to fit—” / “Oh, I will.”

Degradation + soft care: “Such a desperate little slut, aren’t you?” followed by a forehead kiss.

Overstimulation: “You said you could handle it. Don’t go quiet now.”

Dom/sub dynamic: “You don’t get to touch unless I say so.”

Biting/marking: “I want everyone to see who you belong to.”

Mirror sex: “Look at yourself. Look how wrecked you are for me.”

Phone sex / video call: “Touch yourself for me. Just like I showed you.”

Brat taming: “Oh? You want to be a smartass? Bend over.”

⚠️ Note: These prompts assume consensual non-consent (CNC), heavy kink, and dark romance themes.

“Cry all you want, you’re still going to take every inch.”

“You belong to me. Say it.”

“No one else gets to see you like this. Only me.”

“If I wanted sweet, I’d be somewhere else.”

“Beg. Louder. I want the whole floor to hear you.”

“Be a good toy and hold still.”

“Look at you—shaking and dripping, just from being told what to do.”

“Don’t move. I didn’t say you could move.”

“I love ruining you.”

“One more orgasm. You can give me one more, can’t you?”

Waking up tied to the bed, with their partner whispering every filthy thing they plan to do.

They push you against a mirror and make you watch every filthy second.

They don’t let you come—over and over again. Denial becomes the game.

A partner so possessive they mark you where no one else can see—bruises, bite marks, scratches.

“Punishment” for breaking a rule you didn’t know existed.

Worship that borders on obsession: on their knees, whispering praise while wrecking you.

They tell you exactly what’s going to happen. And then do it—slowly.

A predator/prey dynamic that turns into a chase, and a catch, and a claim.

You’re not allowed to speak. But they make sure you’re loud in every other way.

A game of control where every movement, every breath, every orgasm is dictated.

“You’re mine. I don’t care who touched you before—I own you now.”

“I marked you on purpose. Let them see. Let them know.”

“Beg for it like a good little thing. I want to hear how desperate you are.”

“You were made to be ruined by me.”

“I get to break you. No one else.”

“You’re scared? Good. Run.”

“Look at you—shaking and soaked. Don’t lie. You like this.”

“Cry if you want. I’ll still keep going.”

“You knew what you were doing when you wore that. You wanted me to snap.”

“You’re not supposed to want this, are you? But you do.”

Choking while they whisper, “There she is. There’s my perfect slut.”

One hand pinning both wrists, the other between their thighs—completely at his mercy.

“Keep your legs open. You’re going to take everything I give you.”

Overstimulation until they’re crying and shaking—but he doesn’t stop.

“That’s it. Cry for me. Ruined and pretty—just like I like you.”

“You don’t get to finish until I say so.”

“I want to hear you say it. Say who you belong to.”

“Don’t make a sound, or I’ll stop. Be good for me.”

They’re tied up, blindfolded, and completely at their mercy—teased until they break.

“You said you could handle it. Prove it.”

“You’re so beautiful when you cry for me.”

“I’ll fuck the innocence right out of you.”

Soft kisses between bruises and bite marks.

Whimpering in his arms while he calls you “his perfect little toy.”

“You can’t take it? But baby, you asked for this.”

[zapreportsblog]

Can you do Caius x mate reader

❝baked goodness❞

✭ pairing : volturi x reader

✭ fandom : twilight

✭ summary : (y/n) is the owner of “baked asf” a bakery which she opened with some funds she had saved up, one day out of the ordinary a man shops by and it seems it’s history from there

✭ twilight masterlist

The aroma of freshly baked pastries filled the air as (Y/N) bustled around her bakery, "Baked Asf." She had poured her heart and soul into this place, a dream she had pursued with unwavering determination. Every morning, she woke before the sun to knead dough, perfect recipes, and create mouthwatering delicacies that drew customers from far and wide.

It was a quaint bakery, nestled in a charming corner of the small town. Warm, golden lights spilled onto the sidewalk through the large, inviting windows, beckoning those passing by to step into a world of sweet delights.

One crisp evening, just before closing time, (Y/N) was meticulously arranging her display of cupcakes when the chime of the bell above the door caught her attention. She looked up, expecting to see a customer browsing her treats, but her gaze locked onto a figure that sent a shiver down her spine.

Caius Volturi, a name that had whispered through the town like an ominous breeze, stood framed in the doorway. His piercing crimson eyes scanned the bakery's interior, seemingly indifferent to the delicious pastries on display. His presence was a stark contrast to the warm and inviting atmosphere (Y/N) had created.

Curiosity piqued, (Y/N) approached him cautiously, a friendly smile on her lips. "Welcome to Baked Asf. Is there anything I can help you with?"

Caius regarded her with a calm and calculating expression. He had walked in merely to see what this bakery was about, but something inexplicable stirred within him as he met her gaze. The scent of her freshly baked goods was nothing compared to the intoxicating fragrance that wafted from her skin.

"No, thank you," he replied in a low, velvety voice that held a trace of an accent. "I'm just looking."

As (Y/N) continued to talk to him about her baked goods, her heart raced. There was an aura of danger about Caius that was impossible to ignore, but she couldn't deny that there was something undeniably captivating about him.

Caius, however, was grappling with a realization that shook the core of his being. He had just met his mate, the one person fated to be his for all eternity. But (Y/N) had no idea of the supernatural world he inhabited, nor did she understand the significance of their meeting.

As he exchanged polite pleasantries with her, Caius couldn't help but wonder how he could reveal his true nature to (Y/N) without driving her away. He knew that he was bound to protect her, but the shadows of the Volturi loomed over their newfound connection, threatening to engulf them both in a world of darkness and secrets.

Caius Volturi found himself visiting Baked Asf more frequently than he ever anticipated. Each time he stepped through the bakery's door, he felt an inexplicable pull, a magnetic force that drew him toward the owner, (Y/N). It was a sensation he couldn't resist, even though he knew he didn't need to consume human food.

Every evening, just before closing time, he would enter the bakery. The chime of the bell above the door had become a familiar sound, and (Y/N)'s face would light up with a radiant smile as she greeted him.

"Good evening, Caius. What can I get you today?" she would ask, her voice filled with genuine warmth.

Caius, well aware that he didn't need to eat human food, would pick up a pack of muffins or a cookie from the display, the same every time. "I'll take this, please."

He watched as (Y/N) carefully wrapped his chosen treat, and he paid with generous bills that far exceeded the cost of the pastries. It wasn't the pastries that drew him; it was the simple joy he saw in (Y/N)'s eyes each time he made a purchase. He couldn't deny the pleasure it brought him to make her day just a little brighter.

Days turned into weeks, and Caius's visits became a routine. (Y/N) had noticed his frequent appearances and had even joked about him being her most loyal customer. She had no inkling of the supernatural world he belonged to or the depth of his feelings for her.

As Caius continued his daily visits, he couldn't help but wonder about the consequences of his actions. The Volturi were known for their secrecy, and his connection to a human, no matter how innocent it seemed, was a potential risk.

Yet, he couldn't stay away. It had become more than just about (Y/N)'s smile or the satisfaction of brightening her day. It was about something he had never experienced in his long existence—a genuine connection with another soul.

The more he interacted with (Y/N), the more he craved her presence. He found himself wanting to learn more about her, her dreams, and her aspirations. He wanted to protect her, not just from the world of vampires but from the ordinary challenges that life threw at her.

Caius was trapped in a delicate dance, torn between his loyalty to the Volturi and the desire to keep (Y/N) safe and happy. As the days passed, he knew that the complications of their connection were bound to unravel, and he would have to make choices that could alter the course of their lives forever.

As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the ancient streets of Volterra, Caius Volturi prepared for his nightly visit to Baked Asf. He had come to cherish these moments, the brief respite from his duties and the connection he had formed with (Y/N), the bakery's owner.

However, tonight was different. As he made his way to the door, Marcus, one of the Volturi's most ancient and perceptive members, blocked his path. His hooded cloak concealed his eyes, but the air of curiosity surrounding him was palpable.

"Caius," Marcus began in his soft, monotone voice, "I have noticed your frequent departures each evening. I am curious about this diversion of yours."

Caius knew he couldn't evade Marcus's inquiries for long. The Volturi leader was perceptive, and secrets within the coven were not easily kept. He weighed his options and made a quick decision.

"Marcus," Caius said, his voice low and measured, "if you wish to understand, then follow me. Bring your cloak."

Without waiting for Marcus to respond, Caius turned and strode away from the Volturi castle, knowing that every minute was precious. He could sense that Marcus was right behind him, his presence silent but unmistakable.

The two vampires moved through the darkened streets, passing unnoticed by the oblivious human inhabitants of Volterra. Finally, they reached the familiar corner where Baked Asf stood, its warm lights casting a golden glow onto the cobblestone path.

Caius pushed open the bakery's door, and the melodious chime of the bell announced their arrival. As he stepped inside, Marcus followed, his eyes scanning the cozy interior. His gaze fell upon (Y/N), who was behind the counter, her smile bright as she greeted her customers.

Caius watched Marcus closely, aware that his reaction could have far-reaching consequences. The bond between him and (Y/N) was a secret he had guarded fiercely, but now it was laid bare for Marcus to see.

(Y/N) looked up, her gaze meeting Caius's, and her smile widened. "Good evening, Caius. The usual?"

Caius nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "Yes, please."

Marcus, hidden in the shadows, observed the exchange between Caius and (Y/N). He could sense the genuine affection between them, a connection that transcended the ordinary. It was a bond that neither words nor actions could deny.

As (Y/N) prepared Caius's usual order, Marcus realized the depth of his companion's feelings. Caius had found something rare and precious in this human, something that had captured his heart in a way that Marcus had never witnessed before in their long existence.

Caius paid for his purchase with the same generosity he had shown every evening. As he left Baked Asf, Marcus followed him back into the night, the weight of their silent encounter hanging heavily in the air.

The visit to the bakery had revealed more than just a secret—it had unveiled the vulnerability and humanity that still lingered within the cold hearts of vampires. Caius's connection to (Y/N) was a testament to the enduring power of love, and it left Marcus with questions that would undoubtedly reshape the destiny of the Volturi.

The cozy atmosphere of Baked Asf welcomed another visitor, a stranger to (Y/N)'s bakery. It was Marcus, cloaked in his usual hooded attire, who entered the bakery earlier than Caius, as if by design.

(Y/N) looked up from behind the counter, her curiosity piqued by the sight of the enigmatic newcomer. She offered him a warm smile as she approached, ready to extend the same hospitality she had shown Caius on countless occasions.

"Good evening," she greeted him politely. "Welcome to Baked Asf. Is there something I can get for you today?"

Marcus inclined his head slightly, acknowledging her with a nod. "Good evening, (Y/N). I am Marcus," he introduced himself, his voice low and measured.

His name sent a ripple of surprise through her. Caius had never mentioned a brother before. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Marcus. What can I get you?"

Marcus seemed content to engage in conversation, and (Y/N) found herself drawn into their discussion. They talked about the bakery, the town, and the changing seasons, all while the air inside Baked Asf filled with the tantalizing scent of freshly baked pastries.

Time passed, and (Y/N) realized that Caius had yet to arrive. She glanced at the clock, a touch of concern in her eyes. "I'm surprised Caius isn't here yet. He usually comes in just before closing."

Marcus's lips curved into a faint, enigmatic smile. "Ah, Caius can be rather unpredictable at times. But he speaks highly of you, (Y/N). He holds you in the highest regard."

The unexpected compliment warmed (Y/N)'s heart. She had grown fond of Caius over the months, and knowing that he had spoken kindly of her made her feel a connection that transcended their daily interactions.

Just as their conversation neared its end, Marcus stood to leave. He turned to face (Y/N), his crimson eyes locked onto hers. "It has been a pleasure getting to know you, (Y/N). I look forward to having you as a future sister-in-law."

His words hung in the air, and (Y/N)'s brow furrowed in confusion. "Sister-in-law?"

Marcus's smile widened, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "Yes, (Y/N). Caius speaks of you as if you are already a part of our family. It seems he has found something truly special in you."

Taken aback by the unexpected revelation, (Y/N) stammered, "I...I don't understand."

Marcus's expression remained serene, his gaze never leaving hers. "You will, in time. Just know that Caius cares for you deeply, and that speaks volumes in our world."

With those cryptic words, Marcus departed, leaving (Y/N) with a flurry of thoughts and emotions swirling in her mind. The bond between her and Caius had taken an unexpected turn, and she couldn't help but wonder about the mysterious world that Marcus hinted at. As she continued to serve her customers, she couldn't shake the feeling that her life had become intertwined with something far beyond the ordinary, and she was on the cusp of a revelation that would change everything.

[mjonthetrack]

moon bound

Chapter One Hundred and Six the scent of guilt was sweeter than sin

It wasn’t planned. Nothing about this kind of craving ever was.

The city pulsed beneath their feet—New Orleans didn’t sleep, it whispered, moaned, and wept through the walls of its oldest corners. The French Quarter was wild up top, but underground… something else stirred. And Selene had led him there. Or maybe the pull of something deeper inside them both had. That hybrid hunger—hers ancient, his newly born—stirring like an awakening god with bloodlust on its tongue.

The catacombs beneath the Quarter weren’t listed on maps. The air was thick with old magic and unspoken confessions. Carved bones. Symbols soaked in sweat and other fluids. These tunnels weren’t for the lost. They were for the damned.

That’s where the guilty came to play and hide. And where the predators above them finally stopped running.

Selene’s heels echoed first, sharp and slow. Jonathan followed in silence, his large frame moving like a shadow tied to hers. His mouth had already shifted, fangs longer than normal, canines pulsing from the venom dancing beneath his gums. Her eyes were darker than night itself, that flicker of violet-red like dusk swallowing the horizon.

They didn’t speak.

Didn’t need to.

Because when the screams started… When the scent of fear hit her tongue… When one of the men tried to lie about what he’d done with missing girls from the wards and backwater villages…

Selene smiled. And Jonathan… he growled low and long. A sound not meant for human ears.

They fed.

Not for survival. Not for hunger. For something bigger. Something older.

As their fangs tore into corrupted veins, something shifted—an evolution neither of them had been warned about. A power thrummed under their skin, ancient and divine, like something that had slumbered through centuries and was now stretching, yawning, stepping into flesh.

Her body arched, fingers clawing through her own skin as something more than just wolf or vampire roared awake.

Jonathan stumbled, his back arching, tattoos lighting under his skin with fresh searing heat as the blood reshaped what hadn’t already changed. It was like being reborn in fire—but this fire didn’t burn, it blessed. His muscles pulsed larger, his senses sharper, his soul bonded tighter to hers than before.

It wasn’t just power. It was dominion. It was predator perfection. It was a shift of balance—the divine side of death and the allure of the eternal dripping from their now glowing skin.

They’d become something sacred. And something blasphemous. All at once.

And when it was over—when the bodies dropped and the blood smeared their lips and fingers and skin—Selene turned, slowly. Her voice purred against the smoke rising from the floor.

“I think I like this side of us.”

Jonathan’s grin was all teeth, all dominance, all danger. “Fa’a tonu, I’a. You always were more than just a mate. We’re gods now, baby.”

She laughed low, dark, and sultry, stepping over bodies like a runway model with blood between her thighs and a glow in her eyes that could make devils kneel.

And above them, New Orleans kept dancing—unaware two monsters had just evolved beneath its skin.

———-

Chapter One Hundred and Seven the gods don’t ask, they take

Selene lounged like royalty, her long legs stretched beneath her in the lush, velvet corner booth of a private room tucked inside one of New Orleans' most exclusive, unlisted clubs. The lights were low, red and dripping gold, shadows curled against the walls like lovers hiding from the dawn.

She was glowing—no, radiating.

Something in her blood had shifted. She carried herself like a queen of the underworld now, eyes glowing faintly with that unnatural hue, skin kissed with a sheen that wasn’t sweat, wasn’t oil—it was something other, like starlight soaked into flesh. Her curls were wild, her mouth slick with a recent bite, and draped across her lap was a woman—breathtaking, honey-skinned and glossy-lipped, swaying with that dancer grace.

Selene’s fingers traced the curve of the woman’s throat, the pulse beneath her skin fluttering like trapped music.

Jonathan stood a few feet away, jaw tense, eyes feral.

“Relax,” Selene murmured, her voice like the promise of sin. She tilted the dancer’s head toward him with gentle fingers, exposing her throat, dragging her nail down to the lace of her bra. “She’s been very bad. Took tips she didn’t earn. Drugged a patron last week. Pretty on the outside… dirty underneath. Just the kind you like.”

Jonathan’s lip curled, that deep Samoan possessive tone wrapped thick in his chest. “Alofa… you trying to test me?”

“I’m trying to feed you, Big Daddy,” she said sweetly, mockingly. “You hungry, ain’t you? Or has this new power made you shy?”

The dancer looked between them, too dazed to be afraid—Selene had already compelled her, her eyes had locked and turned her into a soft thing, pliant and willing.

Selene leaned down, her voice purring against the woman’s ear. “Tell my mate he can have you. Every drop.”

The dancer's lips moved slowly, dreamlike. “You can have me… every drop…”

Jonathan growled low, that dangerous sound that made glasses on the table tremble.

His wolf surged forward—because the shift, this new version of him, the one Selene had awoken, wasn’t tame. He stepped forward, slow, his teeth lengthening, body humming with raw need. But instead of going to the dancer, he went to Selene—gripping her by the jaw, tipping her face up to his.

“You’re who I want to feed on, I’a. Not some stranger.” His voice cracked through the bond, hot and demanding. “Don’t tempt me with table scraps when I been starving for you.”

Selene shivered.

And smiled.

But before she could speak, both their heads snapped up.

Miles away—across ocean, land, air—the pack back home felt it.

The bond surged. Their marks burned. The lodge trembled as every wolf connected to Jonathan’s line felt the shift—like gods had stirred in their den.

Jey fell to his knees, clutching his ribs. “Le Atua, what the hell is that—”

Sefa’s nose bled. “They’ve… evolved. They’re not wolves anymore.”

Dahlia, usually so unshakable, whispered, “They’re more. They’re beyond us now.”

And it wasn’t just fear. It was reverence.

Back in New Orleans, Selene stood, letting the dancer crumple softly into the couch. Her body moved like smoke, like fire given form. She stepped into Jonathan’s chest, hands resting over his heart, feeling the beast beneath.

“Guess they finally felt what we’ve become, huh?” she whispered.

Jonathan’s grin was all fang, all promise. “Good. Let ’em feel it. Let ’em burn in it.”

Selene’s eyes sparkled. “Now… I say we go feed somewhere with more teeth. You know... something that screams back.”

Jonathan kissed her hard, deep, dragging her into him as the room pulsed with their power, that new, divine bond flooding the space.

The gods weren’t just walking. They were hunting.

—————

Chapter One Hundred and Eight kiss the gods, and die screaming

New Orleans didn’t sleep. It pulsed.

It throbbed with drums echoing from corner bars, laughter from courtyards, whispered deals between vampires in alleyways and witches cloaked in shadows. But tonight—it bent. It twisted. The Crescent City, old and haunted, felt them coming.

Jonathan and Selene moved through the streets like royalty made of ruin—devastating, gorgeous, other. She in her blood-red lace and gold hoops, lips stained from the last soul she drained. He in obsidian threads tailored to his new frame, cologne thick with something that was not human. His grillz caught light like fangs. Her heels clicked like a countdown.

They weren’t just mated. They weren’t just turned. They were reborn.

The first to die was a man who thought touching Selene’s arm was cute. She never broke stride—just turned slightly, whispered in his ear, and let Jonathan split him open like a ripe plum. No guilt. No pause. The body slumped in the alley, soul already unraveling into whatever hell waited for the guilty.

They fed.

Not on the innocent. No, never that.

They hunted monsters in human skin. Rapists, traffickers, blood-drunk vampires preying on tourists—scum. They fed as gods should: with elegance, with heat, with terrifying beauty. Jonathan caught one mid-snarl, cracked his spine, and whispered in his ear before taking his life. “Oe e le a tagi i lou oti, but no one will answer.”

Selene, her eyes wild and glowing, lured a high-ranking warlock into a corner of the French Quarter and bled him dry, her smile a mirror of the moonlight. “You ever see a goddess eat, darling?” she whispered as her fangs sank in. “It’s sacred.”

They danced in their destruction.

Kissed after carnage. Tasted each other with blood still hot on their lips.

Every death unlocked something else—a new flash of strength in Jonathan, a new glimmer of mind-reading in Selene. His senses sharpened to the vibration of heartbeats in nearby buildings. Her voice twisted into pure compulsion, bending grown witches to their knees with a glance.

In the back of a stolen Rolls, he pinned her with hands that could break iron.

“You’re insane,” he murmured, licking a streak of blood from her clavicle.

“You like me like this,” she purred, biting his lip until it bled.

His response was a low, primal groan—then he pulled her into his lap and made her feel exactly how much he liked it.

Later, soaked in blood and silk, stretched across their penthouse hotel bed with the moonlight touching her curves and her lashes fluttering, Selene whispered, “You know what I think?”

Jonathan grunted beside her, lazy, satisfied, his arm heavy across her waist.

“I think we are the chaos,” she murmured, voice slow like syrup. “We’re not here to play by their laws anymore.”

Jonathan cracked open one glowing eye, his voice thick with his native growl. “Then let them try to chain us.”

And the gods slept that night—on silk sheets and secrets—while the city whispered their names like a prayer it wasn’t brave enough to finish.