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mr-ys-phantasma · 14 days ago

Text

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1753

Chapter 45:

The battle continued, the scales changing in favour of Agatha when Billy showed up. Him volunteering his powers was a noble move that Agatha did not take advantage of.

Now, those two were still powered up and ready to go. They were a rather good team with Agatha knowing how to block most of Rio's attacks while Billy did the heaviest assaults.

However, those two were still not much for Lady Death, who was now more determined than ever to find a way and end all this.

She wanted one of the two, and she was willing to go to the extremes until one of them surrendered. If both did, then she would accept that as well.

And all of a sudden, when Rio was about to attack, someone else did.

A powerful blast of white magic hit Rio on the chest, the momentum of the attack sending her flying back; hitting against the debri of the once standing house.

Agatha and Billy were shocked, but it was the older witch that broke through the trance first and looked towards the source of this new attack.

She was surprised to see you flying through the air, heading towards them. Not to mention you were suddenly dressed in an attire, even Agatha had never seen before.

Because you never dared to bring forward your true nature... until now.

Your magic had brought forward your witchy attire, in your case, a mystical dress.

Your white magic suronded your body like an ethereal aura, making your dress stand out even more. The closer you approached, the more details your coven members could see on it.

Your shoulders and collarbone were exposed, the dress falling on your form in perfect size. Silver like vines were decorating the starting of your corset. An extra set of those vines was also wrapping around your upper waist, like a metaphorical and permanent mark of the green witch that had set her eyes on you.

The corset was decorated and embroidered with the moon phases and the star signs, the same designs repeating at the outer part of your cloak; the thin material tying around your neck with a white str

Your dress started from the top, a bright white rivalled by the colour of your magic alone. Yet as it descended down towards your feet, the white was starting to fade to grey and eventually to pitch black by the ends; a representation of the two sides you had, like the moon that blessed you into creation.

Your pendant was hanging around your neck, but now you also supported a headband with the three moon phases, head carrying them being held up proudly as you landed in front of Agatha and Billy.

"Y/N," Billy called your name, lost in a moment of awe at seeing you in full form but also in relief; at knowing you had come to help them.

You did not look at him or Agatha. White eyes focused fully on Rio; who had recovered and was walking towards you. She was equally surprised to see you up, let alone having gotten rid of any mental limitations that held you back.

Had his been any other situation, she would have been happy for you. But at that moment she knew you would be more trouble than blessing tl her.

She kept a safe, well calculated distance from you as your eyes locked into a silent battle for dominance.

Her green and black magic was all around her, swirling and moving like a supernatural mist; expanding in the space like a haunting aura.

Your white magic was of a similar nature, though it moved with more grace and ethereal beauty; holding little to no threat when first looked upon.

Magic met magic in the middle, the strands interlocking but never mixing; both equal in nature and force, but both represent different things.

She was the Lady of the Earth, the ending of all, and also the beginning. She was there for the start and will be for the finish, the cycle never to be broken.

You, on the other hand, represented the sky above, the complicated moon and the ethereal plane of stars and magic.

She inevitably had no control or true jurisdiction.

Rio cracked her neck faintly as she got ready, green magic swirling in her fingers while you, Agatha, and Billy got into position.

With your presence, Billy felt rather optimistic about this battle. Sure, you couldn't truly beat death, but you could tire her until she gave up that hunt for a soul.

Rio could almost read his mind based on his little smirk, and she wanted to cackle at his naive side, holding onto hope like it would change anything.

This battle could go on and on, and she would not be tired of it. You, with that tiresome stubbornness, could remain standing, but even you had limits. Agatha and Billy did not even have to be mentioned, for a few more hits would bring them down; especially Billy.

Rio didn't have to do this, but she was left with no choice. Agatha had chosen to throw away the gift she had once been given and Rio was about to teach a lesson, before taking Billy's soul for he had no place inhabiting a body that was not his to begin with.

You, on the other hand, she could not reap you. Little details kept her from doing that, yet it did not mean she could not teach you a lesson. Keep you to the side, tire you enough so Rio had the opportunity and end this.

Sure, you might get hurt, but if this was the only way, she would not lose her sleep over it.

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

You didn't have to talk with Billy and Agatha to somehow make a plan of attack. It just felt right, the three of you standing side by side, and when the true battle started... it all fell into place.

Agatha attacked first, intending it to give her all in this battle. And of course, Rio had to either dodge or try to block; before she followed with an attack

This was where you joined in the puzzle, your white magic blocking and neutering the attack; it's force alone, making you take a step back, but you were unharmed.

And, of course, you had Billy. While still little untrained, he did manage to time his attacks while you and Agatha kept Rio busy; resulting in Rio actually having to put up effort.

You could not help but smirk faintly, barely glancing at the purple and blue magic by your side; a true trio of witches working together for survival.

You did feel bad for having to corner Rio that way, but if she was that focused on actually taking either Agatha or Billy; you were left with no choice.

Rio pushed some strands of hair out of the way, leaving out a huff of annoyance at the stubbornness you three possessed. All she needed was one soul to take back, Billy's hopefully. Why did you three have to make it that hard?

Sure, she enjoyed a good fight, and it had been forever since someone actually made her try... but this was getting ridiculous.

Changing her course of plan, she chose to attack Billy this time since you were more keen and subconsciously leaning more on protecting Agatha.

And it worked.

Her attack on Billy caught you off guard, sending the poor boy flying and letting him crash through the greenhouse roof.

"Billy!" You shouted, worrying for his well-being.

Witch or not, he was still a boy, and that was one hell of a fall.

The moment of distraction was a wrong move from your side since you left yourself exposed.

"Y/N!" Agatha shouted as she pushed you out of the way, blocking Rio's attack by summoning her purple in a type of defence.

"That was a foul move, Rio," you called her out, white eyes narrowing in warning.

Rio cackled. "You think this is a foul move?" She asked, one hand placed on the hilt of her dagger. "Oh, no, babygirl. This is restoring things to its natural order. What he did, possessing a body, was a foul move."

"He was a child, trying to survive!" Your voice was louder as your white magic flared, fueled by your emotions.

"You were always too soft," Rio commented, showing you that your words did not work on her.

She did not relate, nor did she feel any sorry for Billy. She was, after all, Lady Death. She didn't do all emotions, just a few; a few emotions that only you and Agatha could stir within her.

Without another word, Rio attacked again, and this time; she tried a different way.

Her magic came in strong waves, forcing you and Agatha to defend. What you didn't realize, at first, was the fact that those attacks were a distraction as vines came to life once again.

One wrapped around your ankle, causing you to look down in surprise and drop your guard. The next second, you were blasted with enough force to side across the ground; feeling the rough impact, injuring your skin superficially.

Agatha did not even have the time to call out your name as she got back into the defensive, forced to try and block each attack. If Rio had been any other witch, Agatha would have ended it a long time ago.

But her former lover knew better than to directly attack Agatha to avoid having any of her powers drained. Cause in the end, she did not want to truly kill Agatha; especially not that way.

You groaned as you forced yourself to get up, knowing you would be sore and bruised when this would be all over. As you pushed your hair out of your face, you focused on the battle between Agatha and Rio.

As some sort of lightning flashed across the cloudy sky, you caught sight of Rio's knife out and ready to attack.

Acting on your instincts, you pushed your body and rushed towards Agatha; forgetting to use any type of magic to try and disarm Rio.

Instead, your body slammed Agatha with all your might; your shoulder crashing into hers with force. And as her blue eyes looked at you in surprise, only then did she see the blade that was aimed for her.

The deadly blade that was now heading for you, blood being drawn soon after; surprising everyone.

[A/N] - I deeply apologise for the cliffhanger but had to. From this point on, we branch to different endings.

The first ending (Agatha X Reader) will be published first tomorrow. It will be in 2-3 parts, uploaded either together or one every day ( I need to see with my time).

Finale I - part 1/3 (Agatha X Reader ending)

Finale II - part 1/3 (Agatha X Reader X Rio ending)

#agatha x reader #agatha harkness #agatha spoilers #agatha fanfic #agatha all along #agatha harkness x reader #moon phases fanfic #marvel #kathryn hahn #aubrey plaza #billy maximoff #agatha x rio #rio vidal #rio vidal x reader #lesbian

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eat-limes-bitches · 10 months ago

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Love After War

PAIRING: Female Reader x FATWS! Bucky Barnes

SUMMARY: The mind has a way of playing tricks on you, images you thought to be real are just a figment of your past. But how to get back to the present?

WARNINGS: Angst, nightmares, PTSD, panic attack, cannon-level violence, torture, smidgen of fluff at the end

Word Count: 1239

A/N: soooooo this was supposed to be the start of my Febuwhump challenge but with the way my life is going right now I won't be able to finish all the prompts by the end of the month, BUT I will post the ones I have done, and I will keep working on some prompts as well but don't expect them to be in order at all.

Prompt: Helpless

Enjoy! <3

Divider by Rookthorne

The first thing Bucky realized as he came to was how incredibly cold he was. A shiver wracked his body, causing him to try and pull the flimsy material covering him closer to his skin as water poured down on him. Wait- water? He looked to find the source and realized he was in a shower. The cold water turned red as it ran across his body from all the blood there. Was it his or someone else's? Bucky couldn’t tell.

“SOLDAT.” A voice boomed from behind, causing him to flinch aggressively. He knew that voice, it was one of his handlers, and by the sound of the rapidly approaching footsteps, he wasn’t happy.

“Poydem s nami, soldat. Dok khochet tebya videt'” The voice growled and Bucky froze.

His frazzled mind still trying to work out where he was and what was going on. His hesitance must have been seen as resistance because the next thing he knew, a rifle butt was flying towards him.

Confused, Bucky blocked it with his arm, the clash of metal reverberated around the room causing more handlers to pour in, each one with a gun all pointing in the same direction. His pulse was starting to quicken, and every muscle in his body tensed.

He was so focused on what was going on in front of him that he didn’t notice the guard coming up behind him with a stun baton. The guard struck, causing Bucky to fall to his knees as he hissed in pain, the electric shock causing his arm to fall limp at his side he clutched the useless appendage in his right hand as he looked on in terror as they all started moving in on him. Two of the guards grabbed him and began to drag him out of the room. He knew where they were taking him and as those rusted double doors came into view he began thrashing as wildly as he could to get away but it was no use.

“Bucky?”

They flung open the doors, his senses on hyperdrive as the blinding lights of the room burned his eyes. Noise. There was so much noise, nurses scrambling around, guards shouting, and doctors preparing for whatever horrible things they had planned for him that day.

“Bucky!”

He tried to fight against them as they strapped him into the chair, but it was no use, he felt utterly helpless as they began tying him down. His metal arm, although useless, was cuffed in 4 different steel brackets to keep him from moving, the rest of his body bolted into place as the panels of the machine began to lower over his face and just as they were about to connect to his skin-

“JAMES!”

He sucked in a large breath bolting upright in bed and scrambling far away from where he was until he managed to situate himself in the corner of the room. His chest, slick with sweat heaved up and down as he tried to get oxygen to fill his lungs, but his heart was beating too fast for him to do anything but hyperventilate. There was a quiet sound from the other side of the room that made him realize he wasn’t alone, and he let out a whimper as their footsteps got closer, curling in on himself to appear as small as possible.

“Bucky?” This voice was soft and full of concern, a complete contrast to the voice he heard just moments ago. This intrigued him slightly, but not enough to make him uncurl himself to see who was speaking to him. There was a sigh from the other person and the floorboards squeaked as they moved their entire weight to the floor, sitting on the ground near him.

“Bucky? It’s me, baby.” The voice cooed gently, and with the next breath he took, the familiar smell of cedar and lavender invaded his senses. He peaked his head out from behind his knees and saw Y/n sitting on the floor looking at him with concern coloring her features and sorrow clouding her eyes. She noticed the small movement and smiled gently as her eyes caught his.

“There he is. Hello, my love.” She whispered, a gentle smile decorating her face. Bucky blinked owlishly at her, still not realizing who he was looking at, but still Y/n smiled.

Progress she thought before she started speaking again, “It’s just me, love. You are safe. We are in our bedroom, in our apartment, no one is going to hurt you.”

This made him cock his head to the side before looking around the room. There was no one else besides the two of them. Instead of the gurneys, there was a dresser. Instead of blood-stained floors, there was a soft, grey plush carpet. Instead of that chair, there was a bed, and her. Bucky took a deep breath, finally able to fill his lungs and when he did, his body began to shake. He would shake violently for a moment before his muscles would give out and relax before contracting all over again. Y/n watched him carefully and scooted a little closer.

“Can I sit next to you?” It was a simple question, and it might seem trivial to ask someone you were just sleeping next to if you could be in their space but it was important for Bucky to feel in control of his situation, if he was in control, he was no longer there. Bucky looked at her and gave a small nod and Y/n moved to sit next to him, her back plastered against the wall. Although she wasn’t touching him, Bucky could feel the warmth radiation from her body, another piece of proof that he wasn’t in the basement of a bunker in the Siberian mountains. The pair sat in silence for a moment, Y/n watching Bucky, and Bucky staring straight ahead at the wall. Y/n shifted, causing Bucky's eyes to leave the spot on the wall and look at her.

“Can I touch you?” She asked softly. Buckys hesitated for a moment, before nodding again. Y/n scootched closer to Bucky so that their bodies were pressed against each other and she reached over with a hand and ran her fingers through his shortened chestnut locks. That simple action seemed to bring new life back to Bucky and he began to uncurl, leaning into her touch. Y/n began humming a soft melody as she continued to massage Bucky’s scalp. His tremors became less and less until they were all but gone.

After some more time passed, Bucky wasn’t sure how much, Y/n stopped and gently stood up, offering her hand to him.

“‘C'mon love, let’s get back in bed. Your back isn’t going to thank you if I let you sleep in the corner.”

Bucky placed his hand in hers and allowed her to lead him back to bed. Y/n folded back the covers in a more orderly fashion before sliding under the soft grey sheets, motioning for Bucky to do the same. He did so, snuggling back into Y/n’s side listening to her steady heartbeat, reassuring him that he was safe. She began humming that soft melody again. Feeling warm and safe, his eyes grew heavy and he fell into a dreamless sleep. The last thing he remembered was the whisper of an “I love you,” in his ear.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky fluff #bucky x female reader #bucky angst #bucky barnes x you #whump #fatws bucky x reader

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to-thelakes · 8 months ago

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Luke alvez gives the best hugs of the BAU team

i can do nothing but hard agree with this statement. it has been on my mind for days and i simply, merely, just want a hug from luke alvez of the BAU, that's all i want. my skin? clear. depression? cured. grades? flying high.

i think it would make me feel sane and so uhm, i wrote a couple of one-shots, they're like 300-500 words each but they have pulled me from the pits of the depression that was threatening to eat me up today.

so here they are

just a hug

pairing; luke alvez x fem!reader

summary; luke gives the best hugs in the BAU <3

warnings; fluff, pure fluff, domestic fluff, brief mention of injuries, brief mention of reader having a bad day, luke being a mozzarella hater (disappointed in him)

masterlist

Some days were just worse than others and today was one of the days that was bad. You and Luke had been at work all day. It was paperwork day and luckily, you had managed to avoid going on a case. You were thankful for that, you knew that you might have had a breakdown if you had to go on a case. It was just one of those days and Luke noticed. He knew and the second that you got through the door into your house, he wrapped you up in a hug.

You didn’t expect it but the second that his arms tightened around you, all the tension released and you melted into him. Your arms snaked around him, nuzzling your face in his chest. He smelt like home and his strong arms grounded you to the earth as he rested his face against your hair. Your fingers dug into him as you just breathed.

“I’m proud of you,” He muttered. You let out a sob-chuckle before you lifted your head so that you could meet his gaze. You looked into his eyes and moved one hand to rest against his cheek. Then you connected your lips with a soft kiss.

“I love you,” You whispered against his lips. He grinned and kissed you again before letting you snuggle back into him.

“I love you too.” You never felt as safe as you did in Luke’s arms. It was the most soothing thing in the world for you.

The UnSub had managed to land a few punches on you as you had chased after him. Your face was bruised and bleeding but you were okay. You had caught the UnSub and he was at the PD but your face ached. The medic had cleared you but told you to ice your face which you couldn’t do until you had returned to the PD.

So, you decided to just sit in the car with a water bottle against your face, hoping that it would do something to stop the swelling. You watched from across the lot as the team discussed. Luke had caught your gaze a few minutes ago and sent you a sympathetic look. You tried to smile but it just hurt. He frowned.

You hadn’t expected him to come over but after he finished talking with the team, he appeared. He leant against the open car door and you looked up at him, annoyance written across your face but mainly cause you were in pain.

“How you feeling?” He asked. You gave him a look and he chuckled, “Okay, yeah, dumb question.” You rolled your eyes and placed the water bottle down onto the seat. It didn’t seem to be doing anything; all you wanted right now was comfort.

“Can I get a hug?” You asked. Luke’s hugs seemed always to make you feel a bit better. He and Garcia gave the best hugs in the BAU, hands down. So, they were your first port of call (and your closest friends) when you needed comfort. He chuckled and nodded. You stood up and wrapped your arms around Luke. He was still wearing the bullet-proof jacket but the hard material was somewhat comforting. He wrapped his arms around you, hand cupping the back of your head as you sighed.

“I’m impressed,” He stated. You scoffed and rolled your eyes but didn’t move from where you were nuzzled against him.

“Thanks,” You muttered, amused by his assertion.

You and Luke were sitting on Rossi’s couch. Everyone was a few drinks deep and drinks meant that you were touchy. Though, Luke didn’t seem to mind all that much when you cuddled into his side. You were talking about different types of cheeses and you were judging him hard for his dislike of Mozzarella. You honestly weren’t sure how you got onto the topic but it amused you. Tara joined into the conversation every few minutes but she was mostly distracted by Reid and Emily which left you and Luke blissfully alone to bicker about cheese.

His arm was wrapped around your waist, pulling you in and hugging you from the side. Usually, you would never admit that you liked having him close but you did. You and Luke were strictly platonic but sometimes, rarely, you thought about being more and moments like this when Luke was hugging you made you wonder how perfect your life could be.

“Told you, Mozzarella isn’t that good,” He mumbled against your hair, taking your silence as defeat. You let out a defiant scoff and shoved him playfully, pulling back. You crossed your arms over your chest.

“I was just thinking!” You bit back. He let out a teasing ‘uh-huh’ and you pouted. He rolled his eyes and gently tugged you back into him. There was only a moment of resistance before you let yourself fall back into him.

“You know I’m right.” You merely rolled your eyes at his assertion.

Luke - much to his dismay - woke up to an empty bed and he rolled over, rubbing his eyes as he tried his best to locate you. It took him a moment to hear you singing in the kitchen downstairs. Roxy was gone from the dog bed and relief filled his chest. You were still here and he let a smile spread across his face as he clambered out of bed. He slipped a pair of pajama pants on before padding downstairs and finding you making coffee in the kitchen.

You were singing your favorite song at the top of your lungs as you swayed your hips, waiting for the coffee to be done and filling up Roxy’s bowl. He couldn’t help but grin as he watched you from the doorway. You placed the bowl of dry biscuits down before you returned to the counter, not even realizing he was there.

It was adorable and he watched you for a moment longer before he decided to finally make his presence known. He said good morning as he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. You tensed for a moment before relaxing. You tilted your head back.

“Hi, baby,” You said before you leaned over and grabbed a mug for the two of you. His arms snaked around you as he buried his face in your neck. He pressed a kiss to your neck and you giggled, resting one of your hands over his, “You sleep okay?” You asked. He nodded. The warmth of his back pressed against you was a soothing feeling. It made you melt back into him.

“Slept great,” He mumbled. You reached out for the coffee pot and he let his hands slip away from you which made you groan in annoyance.

“Hey, I was enjoying that,” You muttered as you looked back at him. You then turned back and began to pour coffee for the two of you.

“Payback,” He retorted and you scoffed.

“For what?” You glanced at him before finishing with both coffees. Luke had creamer in his coffee while you just put some milk and sugar.

“Making me wake up alone,” He stated as he opened the fridge and began to pull out the supplies for breakfast. You scoffed.

“Yeah, yeah,” You rolled your eyes and once Luke had placed down the supplies, you grabbed his arm and tugged him so you could look at him. Then, you pressed a kiss to his lips, peppering a few before you settled back, arms still wrapped around his neck loosely, “You looked so pretty and peaceful. I couldn’t disturb that,” You shrugged. Luke chuckled, smiling bashfully as he met your gaze. He then pressed a kiss to your lips.

“I’ll make us breakfast,” He said. You nodded and pressed another kiss to his lips before you stepped back. You missed the feeling of his arms around you when you were away from him but you tried not to think about it too much.

#luke alvez #luke alvez x reader #luke alvez x you #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #luke alvez fluff #reader-insert #criminal minds fluff #luke alvez x reader fluff

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ladyxskywalker · 3 months ago

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In Exile, ch.iii

Anakin Skywalker x F!Reader/OFC

after a tense encounter in the mountains, anakin falls asleep by the waterfalls, completely exhausted of his power. but what he doesn’t expect, is for his kind lady friend to find him there

part one | part two | part four

a choose your own outcome story ! weekly story polls posted at the end of each chapter ! hope you enjoy !💌

Dreams

He could only remember all the ways the entire mountain shook, an all consuming echo of vengeance that no one below could really trace.

How the cliffs separated into sharpened boulders and flying rock all around. The fading sound of an enemy, disappearing from the swaying trees as debris rushed against them.

And then all went completely silent.

An eerie kind of stillness that only comes from the force when things suddenly turn themselves dark.

Anakin’s hands were still wound shut into tightened fists, as if he’d been holding on to the overwhelming sense of energy that hadn’t been present inside of them anymore.

“What have I done?” He whispered to himself, slowly opening the palms of his hands, holding them out in front of him.

There was nothing tangible to be found there, only an air of pure exhaustion and sadness.

“Why can’t people just leave me alone?”

Walking nearest to the banks beside the waterfalls, he kneels down by the water; a leftover current from earlier, rippling all of it as if it had been a running creek or river. But instead, this kind of pool became nothing more than a mirror, the reflection of the man staring back at him then, was somehow unrecognizable.

He couldn’t stand it.

The look in his eyes.

His unkempt hair.

Tattered edges ripped apart from his robes.

What had truly become of him? He wondered to himself; veering off - drifting.

Tall blades of grass cradling him; finding himself wanting nothing more than to just lay down next to the one part of this place that brought him a sense of calm.

…

everything’s too bright…

I’m done with this…

I should just leave, find a way out of here…

There’s a field of wheat surrounding Anakin in the light of the afternoon, a golden hour that makes everything look like it had all been just one color. An appearance of stray shadows that passes over all of his crops. He knows things have to eventually get cut down, but he’s too tired and frustrated to care about that enough right now.

I’m sweating…

this sucks…

So often, and against his own judgment, this is the time when he thinks to himself. That full mind of his, a complete mess of memories that makes him spiral. He thinks about the children and where they might have really ended up. If they had been separated, or whether or not they were with families that loved them.

I would have loved them…

Padme would have been a good mother…

He busies himself to try to drown out everything that’s been replaying in his head - her voice; Obi Wan’s…

A final hug shared between two very close friends, the kind that shouldn’t have been the ending between brothers before they had both fought.

nothing makes sense anymore…

His hair in this type of heat feels matted against his forehead. It’s become too long now, so much so, that it’s falls into his eyelids, spilling over his brow. It makes him look angry and abrasive - the words overheard in the day time that others so often like to use, because they’re certainly not his own.

He wishes he could change his appearance, but what for? Nobody knows him anyway. No one’s ever cared to look.

not true...

Trying his best to smooth the unruly waves out of his own way, he begins to fuss with tying up the back of it instead of focusing on his work. But the shred of material in his hands is just too short, he can’t seem to get a good grip on it. So easily becoming more and more stressed and frustrated.

If only Anakin could scream.

Shout into the void of clouds, and far away houses.

But each time he opens his mouth, he can only breathe out a huff of quiet.

how is it that there isn’t any sound?

Agitated with everything now, he begins to stare off without blinking, as if in a wordless trance - looking around for something.

All of the flowers that once were planted, somehow are all gone.

They’ve all just disappeared, turning out beneath his boots to only be a patch of dust.

this isn’t real…

what’s going on?

And so, he grabs hold of his belt, where a pair of shears can be found. They’re the same ones he uses in the Winter to trim his sheep’s wool. It’s one of the only tools that he can reach right now to prove to himself that at least something in this place had been real.

these are sharp.

don’t touch them.

He remembers that kind interaction from long ago, telling you to be careful when working around him. The silhouette of your gentle face looking toward him so insistently, softening always in the light of dawn with a smile. An early morning mist each time adhering to your skin, before catching on.

I don’t care anymore…

I’ll just cut it all off…

enough’s enough…

“Wait! Lars! What are you doing?! Don’t!” you yell out toward him, like a startlingly beautiful sound. You think there must be something seriously wrong - that something else has been pulling at him inside that goes far beyond just getting overexerted at the farm. And so you run, afraid that he might hurt himself.

“Please…” you begin, patiently, before taking a soothing hold of his wrists. His mechanical arm, feeling smooth, and somewhat cold in your palms.

“Please…” you try again, “put those down. Let me, just…”

So instead, you reach up, watching carefully as his eyes start to close, smoothing all the hair away for his eyes and the dampened skin of his face, careful not to pull at it all too tightly. That when his shoulders relax from all their tensing, he thinks perhaps your touch just might have saved him there - from the plague of all consuming torment; from the daydreams masquerading as all of his waking nightmares.

…

“Lars…Lars, dear, are you alright?”

Stirring himself awake, only then at the sound of your voice does Anakin realize that all the while he must have been dreaming.

she called me…dear…

ha.

that’s funny.

“Sorry, there was some sort of earthquake. Must’ve passed out…”

“There certainly was. The whole village is somewhat destroyed…I think you actually might have been dreaming.”

“How…how did you…”

“I just had a strange feeling when I didn’t see you back home. Most of the people had already been accounted for. When I couldn’t find you I…”

“You were looking for me?”

“I…well…”

Anakin sits up, finding now that since you’d been here, his inner strength had been enough.

“It’s fine, I just…wasn’t expecting this. I’m still a bit shaken up.”

she’s laughing…

did I just…

“Now there’s a real pun if I’ve ever heard one!”

Anakin smirks, brushing himself off and stretching before standing back up from the ground.

“Like that, don’t you, my lady?”

“Mhmm, almost as much as you calling me that! While you were sleeping, I’m pretty sure you were mumbling my name somehow…”

“I was?”

“Although…I’m probably wrong…”

There’s a slight moment of pause held in the space between you then. It isn’t awkward, in fact, it’s just enough of an enjoyable back and forth for him. If only you had known his true, given name, that would make all of this all the more fun.

“Not wrong…”

“Oh…well, what were you thinking about?”

“Something awful, and weird. Then you showed up. Made everything better.”

Looking down, suddenly you’ve grown quite bashful.

“I did? Well…that’s lovely…I mean good.”

“You always do that.”

“Do what?”

Anakin steps closer, engaging you with his words as you stand before him, watching intently as you hang onto all of them.

“You always tend to look away from me. Don’t.”

He whispers, finding himself brushing the backs of his fingertips along your face; caressing your cheek, then gliding softly toward your chin.

Tilting it…

But before you are even able to say anything else, he does all the speaking for you.

Through wordless action, and a comfortable safety that comes from being held.

His arms wrapping all the way around you and bringing you further to him.

Your loving hands, reaching delicately for the back of his neck in order just to rest there.

Expecting him to kiss you slowly…

Though, being patient, was never on Anakin’s radar…

Leaving you as breathless as ever just to enjoy the impassioned way in which he does.

…💐

Thanks so much for reading! 💌 the response to this story has been wonderful, and so much fun! Thank you again to everyone for reading & sharing. I would love to hear your thoughts ! what has been your favorite part so far? 💫 xoxo

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #post rots #choose your own outcome #emotional hurt/comfort #romantic fluff #dreams #next one might be the last part #sky lady story time 💌#sky lady writes

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joaniejustwokeup · 2 years ago

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DP x DC Prompt:

Summoning circles are more complicated than people give them credit for. They’re a bit like a mix between a thumb print, a name, a phone number, and a recipe; and at the same time, nothing like any of those things.

In reality, most summoning circles in spell books and ancient texts are incomplete, representing only a fraction of a particular spirit’s identity.

A complete circle will actually be a series of different summoning circles, with each concentric ring representing an aspect of the spirit’s identity and having individual requirements and/or offerings needed. Ghosts have an innate awareness of them and are able to draw and describe their requirements from any sort of inward reflection.

Ghosts will often give out incomplete circles as a means of communication and transportation. A single ring of the circle will only open the door, and each ring added makes the pull and connection to the summoner stronger. Ghosts will also sometimes use incomplete circles to mark and monitor their haunts and as a way of claiming territory.

A complete summoning circle will occasionally but inevitably change over time, as parts of the spirit’s identity change.

The circle will always be a closely guarded secret. This is because, much like giving your true name to the fae, giving out your full summoning circle will allow the summoner to not only capture you, but to command and control you.

After Danny was shown Dan’s future where he killed the world, he made Jazz memorize his complete circle and told her to use it if he ever turned evil. She thought he was being ridiculous, but learned the spell when she saw how frightened he had become of himself.

When the summoning circle of the Ghost King was added to his identity, he tried to make her memorize the new circle, only for her to flat out refuse, saying it’s not healthy for him to make these kind of contingencies. They get into a really bad fight and Danny flies off determined to find someone he can trust with his circle should he turn evil.

As he’s flying over his town he feels the slight tug on his consciousness indicating someone is trying to summon the Ghost King. He lets his awareness bleed through the summoning just enough to see that… yup it’s cultists again. At least there’s no sacrifices this time.

He’s about to shrug the summoning off like he has so many others when he suddenly sees someone fighting through the cultists. Oh! Make that several someones.

With a giddy sort of eagerness Danny watches Batman and his sidekicks cut through the crowd of religious fanatics, even taking down a couple that looked like they were using ghost-based magic. He’d always admired the Dark Knight, but seeing him fight in person is something else.

It’s as the hero is tying up the cultists and checking their injuries that a lightbulb goes off in Danny’s head, and, after a moment of steeling his determination, he lets himself be pulled through the summoning circle.

The Bats all tense up as the circle at the center of the room grows brighter, readying themselves for another fight. Danny tries to smile reassuringly as he feels his form materialize, though they likely can’t see it in the bright flash of light that accompanies it.

He frowns when he realizes the summoning had dressed him in his royal armor and cloak, the crown of fire burning above his head and ring of rage glaring from his right hand.

He tries raising his hands in an “I am not a threat,” pose, before realizing it looks exactly like the Box Ghost’s “Beware!” pose. He tucks his hands under his armpits, then awkwardly waves at the group of vigilantes.

“Hi there! Wow that was really cool- Thanks for taking care of these guys for me.”

The vigilantes once again tense up as Danny steps out of the circle towards them. Danny smiles sheepishly.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but I really need to talk to you, Batman.”

Batman steps forward, approaching Danny as he stands just outside the circle, a living shadow that looms larger than life. Still, Danny senses something soften in his gaze as he looks over the teenage Ghost King, stopping just out of reach of him. Danny gazes back at his childhood hero, hoping he’s making the right choice.

“I have a favor to ask of you.”

#Red hood doodling these intense circular designs in the corners of his favorite books not knowing what they mean #Dick: Oooooh what’s that little wing? it looks cool! Jason: (blushing but can’t figure out why) Nothing! Fuck off!#Jason’s subconscious: he called me cool! :)#Jason storming into the Batcave - ‘WHERE’S MY COPY OF PRIDE AND PREJUDICE- DEMON BRAT I KNOW YOU HAVE IT!!!!’#Jason starts tagging the edges of Crime Alley #He’ll suddenly get on coms like ‘Get out of my territory Old Man!’ (How did he know we were here? He’s across town!)#dpxdc #dpxdc prompt #ghost king danny #summoning circles #summoning circle lore #danny phantom #batman #halfa jason todd #or at least some kind of undead #but I guess that’s only in the tags right now #my writing

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rodolfoparras · 11 months ago

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My brain is exploding

Gaz having male reader under him in front of the tree, telling him to stop squirming or else the ornaments could be hurt or broken but not even 5 minutes later it’s Gaz begging reader to stuff him like a damned turkey🫠

Significantly going crazee-🐁

Usually Gaz doesn’t get the chance to fly home during the holidays since he always ends up getting assigned some random mission.

However this time he actually manages to get some time off but he chooses not to tell you about it so that he can surprise you with a visit.

When Gaz told you he wouldn’t be able to come you’d been sad of course but you tried to enjoy the holidays anyways so you went out bought some of your favorite food and drinks and went back home again

When you walk into your apartment you don’t notice anything out of the ordinary until you go to your bedroom and see gaz laying on the bed with Christmas lights surrounding him.

You freeze in place, not expecting him to be here , and for a second you think that you must be imagining it all until you hear him chuckle and you snap out of your thoughts.

“What- i - how?” You say sounding confused as ever while walking up to him but he just smiles in response, whispering the words surprise before he crashes your lips together

“Not funny” you say in between pecks

“Worth it though” he mumbles against your lips.

“Mm - fuck what are you wearing?” You say trailing your hands down his chest, feeling the frail material of his lingerie under your hands.

“Your present” he whisper into your ear before he nibbles on your ear.

“Fuck me” you grunt out, feeling blood pool to your lower half.

“Oh I plan to,” he says as he flips the two of you around so you’re the one laying in bed before he straddles your waist.

This time you get a full view of the red lingerie he’s wearing, hands reaching out to touch him but just as you do so he clasp your hands together before tying them up with the Christmas light

“What-“

“Nuh huh im the one taking care of you tonight,”

“Oh is that right?” You say with a brow raised.

He just hums in response before he slots yours lips together.

“Alright then” you sigh out, relaxing into his touch “take care of me”

And take care of you he does, with a kiss here and there as he strips your clothes off, using his mouth and hands to push you over the edge multiple times before he straddles your waist and sinks down on your cock

He looks like an absolute sight with the Christmas lights bouncing off of his skin, lingerie barely staying on him, eyes squeezed shut and mouth agape as he works himself up and down your length

But it’s not enough for him and it’s clear to see.

“Come on, Kyle untie me” you say voice breathy and strained,”let me take care of you yeah?”

#alec answers #🐁 anon #scribbles

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mendeshoney · 1 year ago

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apple of my eye, take a bite

A/N: surprise surprise! this is a part two to "a taste of the devine," with a special little halloween twist! to my lovelies, @pyotrkochetkov and @smileysvech happy halloween babes! the title is inspired by lyrics from the song “eve” by precious pepala

Summary: You and Andrei go to the team Halloween party at a club, and it takes Andrei down memory lane.

Pairing: andrei svechnikov x f!reader

Word Count: 5,120

Warnings: five year age gap, older woman x younger man, fluff, previously established dynamics (including msub x fdom dynamics, switch, mdom x fsub dynamics), smut, semi-public sex (in a club), hints of biting/hickies, penetration, finish inside, unprotected sex

Russian terms used (bearing in mind the author does not speak Russian and definitely Google’d these) can be referenced here.

“I feel like this won’t make much sense,” Andrei quietly mumbles to himself, adjusting the ‘hat’ of his costume, his eyes casting to the side once he sees movement from inside the closet.

The sliding frosted glass door is closed, so he can only see your shadow as you move around, and he can feel himself start to get antsy.

You’d kept your part of the couples costume a shrouded secret from him, claiming you wanted to surprise him.

As far as surprises go, he typically liked yours a lot, but given his current predicament, he found himself a little more anxious than normal.

He glances at himself in the vanity mirror in your shared bedroom, running a cursory hand over the fuzzy material of his Halloween costume, and frowning a little at his reflection.

“Kroshka, I don’t-” He starts, cutting himself off and turning back toward the closet when he hears the sliding door open.

You finally emerge, body in an emerald green mini dress that you’d sewed fake vines onto so that they curled and twisted around your figure, enhancing your silhouette, vines trailing down your shoulder and around your arms until they rested delicately on your wrists. Those beautiful legs of yours donned a pair of thigh high velvet stiletto boots, the color matching your dress perfectly.

You looked a lot more like that character that Evgeny used to tease him for having a crush on when they were kids, Poison Ivy, than you did the biblical Eve.

Sukin syn.

Andrei’s hard in seconds, heart pounding furiously as his stomach flutters.

Babochki, he thinks. Butterflies.

He laughs suddenly, feeling nervous out of the blue.

“What do you think?” You ask, turning your body a little so he can get a better view.

“I think there’s butterflies in my stomach,” he says honestly, the words coming out faster than he can process, but when you flush deeply, he feels a twinge of satisfaction.

“You still have a way with words, don’t you?” You tease, trying to look anywhere else but him, and he knows that strategy.

Sometimes, when you’re not sure how to receive his compliments, you try to brush them off, but tonight’s not a night Andrei can let that fly.

He can feel his hands twitching at his sides, and his feet are moving towards you before he even realizes, that familiar gravitational pull too strong to resist.

“Ty vyglyadish' krasivo, lyubov' moya.” He murmurs. You look beautiful, my love.

You smile at his words, his hands coming to rest on your waist and pull you closer. “Spasibo, malysh.” You finally seem to take in his costume, and you giggle lightly. “You look so cute!”

He frowns, brows pinched together. “I’m glad you think so.”

You smile, giggling a little more. “Of course I think so.”

“Remind me again why I couldn’t just be ‘Adam’ for Halloween?” He asks, fingers playing with a fake vine on your shoulder.

“Because no one cares about Adam,” you remind him gently. “The story’s about Eve and the Apple. Adam’s just there.”

Andrei pouts a little, turning back toward the mirror and staring at the apple suit that covers his upper half, the red hat on his head with the apple’s stem and a little leaf, and the dark brown pants on his legs. “I guess so,” he laments, then turns his gaze back to you.

You know him so well at this point that when the corner of your mouth quirks up in a small smile, he isn’t even surprised, and just smiles right back at you. “Don’t worry, shchenok, everyone still thinks you’re sexy.”

“I don’t care about everyone,” he says without a second’s hesitation. “Just you.”

A small flush works its way up your neck and cheeks. “I still think you’re sexy, too.”

Andrei’s heart pounds then, that familiar disbelief that he was able to call someone like you the love of his life surfacing in his chest. He bends his head, pride surging through his veins when you accept his kiss.

“We should probably go soon,” you murmur against his mouth.

Andrei hums, shrugging. “Or we could stay home. Have our own little Halloween party.”

“Not an option, I’m afraid.” You say, and pull yourself out of his arms to head back into the closet. He watches, completely entranced, as you pull on a pair of thigh high velvet stiletto boots, the color matching your dress perfectly, and he can feel himself start to tent in his pants.

“Kroshka,” he tries again, the word nearly getting caught in his throat, “Are you sure we can’t just-”

You cut him off by standing, grabbing your small clutch and his car keys, tossing a curt “Let’s go, moye yabloko” over your shoulder as you head to the garage.

Andrei glances at himself in the mirror one last time, offering his reflection a long-suffering sigh, before grabbing his wallet and trailing after you.

His teammates don’t laugh as much as he expected, which he supposes is because out of all the costumes tonight, he looks the least ridiculous.

Jesperi, Teuvo, and Sebastian are dressed as Alvin and the Chipmunks - Jesperi was elected to be Theo against his will, Teuvo gladly accepted the role of Simon because it meant he was the smartest, which left Sebastian as Alvin, who claimed it was only fair since his last name began with an ‘A’ - Freddie, Anti, Jacob, and Brett dressed up as Michaelangelo, Donatello, Leonardo, and Rafael from the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Brent was dressed as Sully from Monsters Inc, and those were just the costumes he managed to figure out on his own.

There were far too many others for him to keep track of or understand and some were just a headache to look at, so he ended up focusing on the one thing he knew would keep his attention - the way your ass moved in your dress as you walked through club toward the VIP section they’d reserved for the team party.

The girls complimented you on your outfit and assured Andrei that he looked cute instead of silly, and it only made him feel marginally better.

He was still dressed as a giant apple for the night, after all, while his bombshell of a girlfriend looked like a walking fantasy.

After you’d said hello to everyone, the two of you ended up separated, the girls heading out to the dancefloor, some of the guys heading to the bar to grab drinks and snacks, and the rest settling into the VIP section.

Andrei plopped down between Jesperi and Freddie, removing his costume’s hat and putting it on the little table in their section, tuning out most of the conversation happening within the first ten minutes and instead finding himself focused on you and that beautiful dress out on the dance floor.

His eyes were glued to you as you danced, lost in the familiar way your hips moved and how carefree you were. Other people may have needed a little bit of alcohol in them to be so uninhibited, but you didn’t. You never had.

Watching you now, it reminds him of the first night he met you.

It had been earlier this year, when the guys had been having a particularly rough week of games, and they’d gone out to a club to relieve some stress.

You’d been there with some of your friends, and Andrei had been feeling a little bit too confident after a few drinks. He’d locked eyes with you barely ten minutes after he’d arrived and couldn’t take his eyes off you the whole night, couldn’t seem to find the need to wander more than ten feet out of your orbit.

He finally found the courage to approach you after Martinook had all but threatened to send Freddie after you first, pushing off the bar and heading over to you.

He tried the gentlemanly approach, introduced himself properly by taking your hand, and from that first touch there was this crazy electric wildfire of sexual tension that neither of you seemed to be able to deny. You didn’t seem disturbed by him being five years younger than you, and he couldn’t have cared any fucking less about you being twenty eight.

He worried for maybe half a second about you not being able to understand him through his accent, but you had no problems with it, even beyond the blaring music of the club. Then, he offered to get you a drink or a bottle of water - whatever you wanted really, he didn’t care - before asking if you minded if he joined you for a dance.

One dance became two, then four, then six, and then the next thing he knew, you both had locked yourselves in a storage closet down the back hall of the club and he had you pinned against the wall, his jeans and boxer briefs around his thighs, your dress hiked up to your waist, thong pulled to the side, and his cock buried so deep inside of you that you had to bite down on the meaty flesh of his shoulder to keep from crying out too loudly.

You’d fucked twice in that closet before you took him back to your place and fucked another two times. In the morning, you’d managed to contain yourselves in the shower, but Andrei lost all restraint and licked your pussy on your kitchen table until your throat grew hoarse and your legs shook so much your table started to squeak.

He managed to rein it in and take you on a date two days later, and then you invited him out for dinner another three days after that. After about ten dates without any sexual interactions at all, and about a month in total of you actually knowing each other, he’d asked you to be his girlfriend, and you both celebrated when you said ‘yes’ to him by locking yourselves in at his place and fucking like bunnies for about two days.

Andrei had learned everything about what you liked in bed in that first month, and you’d learned everything about what he liked.

You’d also learned enough about one another that Andrei was pretty sure he’d end up marrying you and having about five or seven kids within the next seven years, because there was no possible way he’d ever manage to find someone as brilliant as you ever again.

And at this point, you’d barely been dating a year.

He’d say he was probably moving too fast in any other circumstance, but he was pretty sure you were on the same page.

He feels a nudge in his side, and Andrei glances over, momentarily shocked because he’d completely forgotten his friends were dressed in costumes, and the orange fabric around Freddie’s eyes nearly scared him shitless for a second.

“You want another drink? The chipmunks lost a bet so they’re buying for the night.” Freddie says, gesturing to where Jesperi had gotten up and was now writing down orders on his phone.

“Sure,” Andrei says. “I’ll take one.”

Jesperi points to where you are on the dance floor and asks Andrei “One for her too, right?”, and when Andrei nods, Jesperi gives him a thumbs up before stalking over to the bar.

He has a feeling it’s going to take Jesperi awhile to put in the drink orders for the whole section, so Andrei resumes watching you, reminiscing on the day you first met and chiming in on the conversations around him every now and again.

You finally wander over with the girls once the drinks arrive, and Andrei immediately opens his arms, feeling content when you settle into his embrace and onto his lap. He hands you your drink, careful to keep your hair out of your face when you take a sip.

There’s a sound of fake retching, and you and Andrei cut your eyes to where Jesperi’s making faces at the two of you. You roll your eyes, settling into Andrei a little more, and he wraps his arms around your waist, securing you to him.

“Jealous, KK?” One of the other girls asks, and Jesperi’s nose scrunches.

“Hardly.” He scoffs. “I’m basically watching my older sister make out with one of my best friends. It’s disturbing.”

Andrei feels you stiffen in his arms, but Jesperi’s already turning away, and Andrei squeezes you gently. “Zajka?”

You turn to Andrei, a slightly stunned expression on your face. “I…does he really think of me that way?”

“What way?” Andrei asks, bringing a hand up to gently caress your cheek.

He can see the shock starting to settle in a little more. “Like an older sister?”

And though Andrei knows they’ve never really talked about it, because it’s not really a topic that would come up, he knows for certain the answer is yes.

Especially after the way you looked after everyone during the beach trip this past summer, all Andrei heard for weeks during training camp and preseason was how much everyone missed your cooking, people asking how you were doing, and demands for him to bring you around more.

Since you’d barely been together for six months at that point, he didn’t push you about it at all because he didn’t want you to feel pressured or rushed, even though he knew you liked everyone just fine. It was another thing he felt like would make it feel like this was going too fast, even though you’d probably be on the same page about this, too.

“I think a lot of them think that way.” He admits. “Pretty sure Freddie thinks of you as a younger sister. Burnsy too, to be honest.”

There’s a thoughtful look in your eyes now, and after a beat, you nod. “I didn’t know that.”

“Is that…is that okay?” He asks, slightly unsure. He doesn’t know that he’s seen you this…contemplative before.

You turn to Andrei, and give him that dazzling smile of yours he loves so much. “Of course it’s okay. Just took me by surprise a little.”

He nods, sitting up a little more so he can press a kiss to the base of your neck. “They love you as much as I do.”

Andrei’s surprised when his kiss makes you shiver a little, and he pulls back a bit, raising a brow at you.

You flush, suddenly bashful. “I just…” He raises a brow when you seem to be trying to find the words to say, and you gesture with your head towards the dancefloor. “Feels familiar, doesn’t it?”

Realization hits Andrei and he smiles, nodding. “It does, zajka.”

A sly, cheshire smile works its way onto your lips, and Andrei feels his heart begin to pound in anticipation. “Let’s see just how well you can tempt me a second time, moye yabloko.”

You’re downing the rest of your drink and getting up from his lap faster than he can blink, and then you’re heading back out to the dancefloor with the girls.

As Andrei watches you walk away, he catches the wink you send him over your shoulder before you disappear into the crowd, and he smirks to himself.

Da nachnetsya igra.

Let the games begin.

Drink in hand, Andrei makes his way through the crowd, his puffy apple costume coming in hand by parting the crowd a little as he moves - he even has the ridiculous hat on again - until he finally reaches where you are in the middle of the dance floor.

He taps gently on your shoulder, and when you turn around, your eyes look up at him curiously, a small smile on your face.

Andrei leans down so you can hear him better, saying “Hi, I couldn’t help but notice you earlier, and I thought I’d introduce myself and bring you a drink.”

It’s not exactly what he said that first night, but it’s close enough. So what if he skipped a few cheesy lines?

You lean back a little, staring at the drink in his hand before taking it with a small amount of hesitation. “Thank you,” you say back, leaning in like he had. “That’s really thoughtful of you.”

“I’m Andrei,” he says, holding his hand out.

You take it, shaking it once when you tell him your name in return.

The nostalgia has those butterflies resurfacing in his stomach, and he tries his best not to smile like a total idiot. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too.” You say, then smirk a little at his costume. “You know, I’m pretty sure I was warned to stay away from you.”

He laughs a little, stepping closer into your space. Bending down so he’s right next to your ear, he rests a hand on your waist and says “One bite won’t hurt.”

At your responding chuckle, Andrei feels goosebumps ignite on his arms. “I’ve heard that before.”

“It’s different this time,” he promises. “It’s just us. And there’s no punishment.”

“Sounds a little too good to be true,” you say, pulling away a little and taking a sip of your drink, blinking up at him from under your lashes.

Andrei rights himself, shrugging. “Only one way to find out, isn’t there?” He gestures with his head towards a hallway that he’d confirmed about ten minutes ago had both a storage closet as well as what looked like an unused office full of boxes, but still came equipped with a couch and a perfectly solid desk.

He makes his way toward the hall, waiting for all of five minutes before you appear in front of him, the glass your drink was in now empty save for the cherry stem he already knew had a knot in it.

“Fancy seeing you here,” you joke, taking careful steps toward him.

He holds a hand out, pleased when you take it, and he leads you toward the end of the hall. The door to the storage closet is on the left, and the door to the empty office is on the right. He places you in front of him, his hands resting on your waist from behind.

“Pick a door, zajka.” He says softly.

You hum a little, taking a step forward. You open the door on the right first, but there’s a small noise that leaves you, and Andrei’s confused when you don’t take a step inside. You open the door to the left, and the second you see the closet, you spin around, smiling wickedly at him before pulling him inside.

He flips you the second he crosses the threshold, shutting the door and locking it before pinning you against the wood, placing his arms on either side of your head. “Didn’t like the office?”

You shake your head, tilting your chin up, waiting. “Not the same.”

“I would’ve liked fucking you on the desk.” He admits, the image of it still fresh in his brain.

“You didn’t fuck me on a desk till I moved in with you.” You remind him.

He smirks. “Oh I remember,” he promises. “Hard to forget the time you made me come so hard I almost passed out.”

You shrug. “You’re still alive, aren’t you?”

He drops one of his hands from the door only to bring it up between you, running a finger down the side of your neck, to your collarbone, your chest, before teasing at the neckline of your dress.

“If you rip this dress before you get me in your bed, moye yabloko, you’ll be sorry.” You warn, but even so, your back arches off the wall, pushing your chest into his touch.

Andrei smirks. He’s never been one to shy away from his punishments.

Instead, he trails his hand down your dress and to the hem, pushing it up your thighs until he can reach under it to bring his fingers to your core, pleased when he finds the fabric of your thong already soaked.

“May I, moya koroleva?” He asks sweetly, eyes focused on where his hand lingers.

You nod, breath hitching a little when he pulls your thong to the side and runs his finger between your folds. “I want it like the first time.”

Andrei blinks, eyes darting back up to your face.

That first night was intense - and beautiful - but also not the kind of sex the two of you have most often. He likes to please you, likes taking his time warming you up or worshiping you the way he’s learned that you like best. Other than the occasional quickie, you two rarely ever just get straight to it.

“Can you take me like this? Right now?” He checks.

“I can,” you say. You reach forward, fingers finding one of the belt loops of his pants and pulling him forward. “Please, malysh. I don’t want to wait.”

His heart beats hard against his ribcage.

It’s rare that you’re the one pleading for him, that you’re the one asking for it this way, and he can feel the way his breath starts to stutter as he tries to maintain his composure.

The second he nods in agreement, it’s a race to get inside of you.

In a hurry, the two of you work to unbutton and unzip his pants, shuffling them down his thighs along with his boxer briefs. His aching cock springs free, and before you can reach for him, he’s bending down to lift you up and pin you against the wall, helping to wrap your legs around his waist.

He balances you in one arm as you press your weight into the wall, reaching down to line his cock up to your entrance. The second he can feel it catch, he presses in at the same time that you angle your hips downward, and he pushes until he’s seated all the way inside and his hips press yours against the wall.

You take a gasping breath, head lolling back as your eyes squeeze shut, arms flying to his shoulders and nails digging into the skin as your pussy grips him tightly.

“Zajka?” He asks, worried. “Are you okay?”

You nod, breathing harshly through your nose. “Move, malysh, spasibo. I need you.”

Andrei has a sudden feeling he’s going to have a hard time trying to remember to breathe if you keep talking.

Carefully, he pulls his hips back until just the head of his cock rests inside, and then he pushes back inside in one brutal stroke that seizes the breath from your lungs once more.

“Just like the first time,” he reminds you, before setting a rough and steady pace.

Your moans fill the room in seconds, and Andrei doesn’t care anymore about who can hear you or who can’t.

Especially when he knows you couldn’t care less about it either.

This time, you’re not at Freddie’s house and worried about making a good impression.

You’re here, with him, pretending like it’s the first night you met all over again, except this time there’s less to be cautious of for both of you.

Although…

If you do want it like it’s the first time again…

“You can’t moan too loud, kroshka.” He says, pressing in closer to you as his strokes slow a little, dragging himself in and out of you with precision. “Don’t want anyone to hear how pretty you are when you’re dripping on my cock, do you?”

Recognition flashes in your eyes like a bright flame, and you capture your lip between your teeth, nodding obediently.

“Need something to bite down on, my beautiful Eve?” He murmurs, gathering you up in his arms and pushing until he’s flush against you, tilting his head to expose his neck. “Do it, it’s okay.”

You wind your arms around his shoulder and lean forward, and when Andrei feels your lips on his neck, his whole body shivers, groaning at the way he can feel your teeth bite down before licking over the wound, then sucking a bruise into the skin.

That’s another thing the two of you don’t give a shit about anymore.

Andrei’s all too proud to wear your marks like a badge of honor, so as you suck on his skin, feeling his pulse beneath your tongue, he knows you take notice of the way his cock drives deeper into you.

He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to manage a second round in this closet, too desperate to fill you up and then drag you home so he can do it over and over again.

When his hips stutter a little, you finally pull away from his neck, leaning back to examine your work, smiling proudly. “Such a pretty little thing, moye yabloko.”

Fuck.

It is just like the first night all over again.

Andrei remembers the dirty things you whispered to him then, too. He remembers how he’d never heard something so sultry, so sexy in his entire life. It somehow made him hornier, made him feel like he could go insane with how much it made him need you even more in that moment.

It was like you knew exactly what to say and what to do to drive him insane, to make him feel like he would do anything to prove to you just how good he could be.

“You’re the same good boy you were that first night, too,” You taunt again when he doesn’t respond, and a sharp hiss falls from his lips when you tug his hair harshly, prompting him to tilt his head up so he can look at you.

His knees nearly buckle, and he thrusts hard into you once in warning.

“You can’t say things like that,” he breathes out, focusing on fucking into you in deep, hard strokes.

“Why?” You breathe out, bringing your hands from his shoulders and tossing the hat of his costume off of his head before sinking your fingers into his hair.

He shakes his head. Any other man might be embarrassed, but that’s never been a thing between the two of you, and especially not when you’re being intimate.

“It makes me…u menya babochki.” Andrei admits, trying his best to stay focused. I get butterflies.

“Babochki?” You ask, tone just shy of a whine, slightly mocking him. “Do I give my pretty shchenok butterflies?”

He looks up when he feels your hand on his cheek, staring into your eyes, and he can feel himself getting closer to his orgasm just looking at you. You run your thumb over his lips as they part, resting the pad of it on his tongue before his cheeks hollow, sucking gently on the digit.

You smirk, eyes rolling back in your head when Andrei gives a particularly hard thrust, causing your back to arch a little more and your body to press further against his. He can tell you’re getting closer, can read all your little tells.

The way your chest starts to heave, how he can see your nipples starting to poke through the fabric of your dress, the way your body starts to go lax, thumb slipping from his mouth and hand moving to rest on his chest instead.

“You gonna come for me?” You ask, tone somewhere between taunting and begging.

Andrei nods furiously, welcoming the molten lava spreading across his spine as he finds solace inside of you. “Da, moya koroleva.”

“Gonna come inside of me?” This question is definitely a taunt. “Gonna fill up the pretty stranger the very first night?”

“I did it once,” he reminds you. “I’d do it again, but only for you.”

Your blinding, satisfied smile takes over your face and Andrei feels his heart fall to your feet in adoration. “Come with me,” he begs.

You nod, tilting your hips a little until he’s hitting that beautiful spot inside, and your eyes flutter shut, pussy squeezing tighter around him.

He loses all control after that, cock pounding into you in a frenzied, nearly manic pace, trying so hard to keep going for you while also chasing his own orgasm.

When he feels you lock him in that familiar death grip, your come drenching his cock and making the slide oh so right, his eyes squeeze shut, and a loud, satisfied groan leaves his mouth as he throbs, spilling inside of you until he feels like he can’t breathe right.

For a moment, the two of you can only remain like that - you slumped and sated in Andrei’s arms and his hips pinning you to the wall.

When he feels you begin to squirm, he carefully pulls out of you, then sets you back on your own two feet as gently as he can. He’s quick to locate a stack of paper towels behind him and grabs a few to help you clean up before pulling your thong back into place and tossing the paper towels into a trash can near the door.

“Do I look okay?” You ask, fussing with your dress.

Andrei nods, letting out a content sigh. “Beautiful as always. What about me?”

When you glance up at him, Andrei’s expecting the same, but then you blink, and a surprised laugh practically barks out of you. It startles him a little, and your hand is flying to cover your mouth, eyes glistening with delight.

“What?” He presses, starting to fuss with his own costume. “What is it?”

“Drei, how hard did you come?” You ask through fits of giggles.

“You said like the first night, so pretty hard.” He admits, unashamed. “Why?”

“You’re…you’re…” You can barely say it through your laughter. After a second, you take a deep breath, calming yourself, and then smile at him happily. “You’re as red as an apple.”

If he - apparently - wasn’t already red, he definitely would be by now.

“How bad is it?” Andrei asks, rubbing at his face absently.

You shrug. “No better and no worse than after a shift on the ice.”

He pouts, brows furrowing. “I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”

“It’s normal,” you explain. “It might be tough to explain away when we say goodbye to everyone in a minute, but it’ll be alright.”

“We’re going home?” He asks, already excited.

You nod, shrugging your shoulders a little. “Pretty sure that’s what we did the first night, too.”

He smirks, stepping closer to you and pulling you to him by your waist. “We did a lot of things that first night. And the next morning.”

Your own cheeks flush now, and you nod. “That we did.”

“Feel like a trip down memory lane, kroshka?” He murmurs, already leaning down.

You rise up on your tiptoes, lips brushing against his when you say “I think that sounds lovely, malysh,” before kissing him softly.

#andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov smut #carolina hurricanes #hockey writing #hockey fanfiction #hockey smut #mendeshoney masterlist

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ev3rgreenxtrees · 8 months ago

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Halloween Mischief

-C.S

Synopsis: You and your best friend Chris decide to go to a halloween party as Tate Langdon and Violet from “American Horror Story”, but when you put his makeup on him, something unexpected happens.

Pairing: Sub!Chris Sturniolo X Dom!Fem Reader

Warnings: SMUTTTTT, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it PLEASEEEE.), oral (m & f receiving), use of pet names (good boy, baby, sweetheart), cockwarming, bondage kink, choking, degradation and praise kink, male overstimulation, cussing (obv), kinky asf.

“Chris! Hold still!” You giggle, trying to hold the wiggling boy down. You were standing in front of the boy as he sat on the bed, as you pressed the cold eyeliner against his nose.

“I’m trying!” The boy argues. You shake your head as he pulled away from the cold soft material, for seemingly the tenth time within the past three minutes.

You furrow your eyebrows, before moving yourself onto his lap, to restrain him from moving so much. His eyes widen as his hands fly to your hips.

“There. Now, hold still.” You demand, and he slowly nods. You slide your hand through his hair, resting it on the back of his head, not allowing him to pull away anymore. “Close your eyes,” You tell him, and he obeys.

His eyes slowly flutter shut, and you use your free hand to tilt his head to the side by gripping his jaw. You move your face forwards, bringing yourself closer to him, dragging your eyeliner stick against his face, making smooth lines.

You couldn’t help but feel your heart beat slightly faster at this new level of intimacy. Sure, you and Chris hold hands, cuddle, and are overall quite touchy people, but you’ve never sat on his lap while doing his makeup. It wasn’t something you ever thought you’d do- not with him at least.

You traced out the boy’s eye sockets, before he started squirming again.

“Chris. Whats the matter? ‘m I gonna have to tie you up?” You scoff, and he whines and shakes his head. He whined. Your face turned red, and his eyes open in shock.

“N-no.. ‘m sorry- i’m trying..” He pouts, and you swallow thickly. Thats when you notice something. Chris was hard. You figured to play it off, not sure if you wanted to possibly ruin your friendship. You ignored him, before grabbing a thicker eyeliner pen, slowly shading in the outline. You couldn’t lie, Chris was hot as fuck, but you didn’t know if this would ruin anything between you two, and thats the last thing you wanted.

You began to be the one squirming, as you felt his boner poking uncomfortably at you ass. He kissed his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut harder. His hands have stayed on your hips this whole time, and now he had began squeezing you gently.

“Chris,” You whisper.

“Hm?” He hums in response, keeping his eyes shut.

“Open your eyes f’me,” You demanded, and his eyes quickly opened. “Good boy.” You praise, and you see his adams apple bob in his throat. You placed your hand on his cheek, pulling his skin down, lifting his waterline off of his eye, allowing you to gently trace it out. You knew this would be the part he squirms the most in.

You pressed the eyeliner to his waterline, and to no surprise, he jolted back.

“Chris, stop fucking moving.” You growled, pulling the eyeliner away from his face.

“‘M sorry! ‘M so sorry,” He whines, and you shake your head, standing up.

“Where do you keep your bandanas?” You ask, and the boy points to the top of his dresser, at a pile of various colored bandanas. You smile to yourself, as you pick a orange one out of the pile. “Stand up.” You tell him, and he did. You walk behind him, before pushing his hands together behind his back, quickly tying them together.

He let out a sharp gasp, before you push him back onto the bed. He sits up, his chest rising and falling at a quickend pace.

“Next time, if you don’t fucking listen, i’m gonna tie your legs down, ‘kay, pretty boy?” You furrow your eyebrows, and he quickly nods, looking up at you through his lashes. “Good boy.” You praise once again, before unexpectedly leaning down, placing a kiss to the bulge in his jeans.

All though he couldn’t feel it much, the action threw him into a spiral. Thinking about all of the things you could do to him.

“Y/N…” He whined again, as you crawled back onto the bed.

“Hm?” You asked, acting completely oblivious.

“I.. I need you, please..” He cries out, and you smirk.

“Need me to hurry up..?” You tilt your head, before straddling his lap again, causing him to sharply inhale.

“Y/N, for fucks sake. Please.. Please fuck me..” He whispers, and your eyes widen. You knew that was what he wanted, you just didn’t expect him to be so outright with it. You knew that Chris has no filter, so it shouldn’t have surprised you as much as it did. You scoffed, before lifting your body off of his.

You slip your hands in his waistband, before tugging them down, you look at him for approval.

“Please.” He whines, and thats all you needed. You pull off his boxers and jeans, your eyes widening when his fully erect cock slaps his shirt. He was thick and long, a prominent vein on the underside, a dabble of precum dripping along it.

“You’re so pretty..” You hum in approval, and the boy lets out a shaky breath. You slip your own pants off, crawling back onto the bed. You slide your panties to the side, as you grabbed his cock. His hips involuntarily buck up, and you glare at him. He whines as you slide the tip of his cock through your soaked folds.

You both let out a small moan at the new feeling, before you slowly began to sink down on his cock. You hissed at the burning feeling, but as he bottomed out, the feeling slowly subsided. You leaned forwards, pushing your left hand harshly on his throat, picking up the eyeliner again.

“This is what you get for fucking moving so much.” You growled, coloring in the outlines you had already drawn on, knowing it would all get messed up if you continued on with what you were doing.

“‘m sorry,” He whines. “‘m sorry, ‘m sorry, ‘m so sorry..” He cries, and you tsk.

“Shouldn’t have been such a bad boy, then. Should you have?” You questioned, and he shakes his head.

“I-I know I was bad, but I can make it up to you! I promise!” He pleads, his bright blue eyes staring into yours. You sighed, taking your hand off of his throat.

“By doing what?” You ask disapprovingly.

“I.. I wanna taste you- please!” He begs, and you can’t lie, his words made you tighten your thighs around his hips. You slowly lift yourself up, causing Chris to let out a guttural moan. “F-fuck,” He gasps as his cock slips out of you, landing back onto his lower stomach. Your pussy throbbed as you made your way slowly to Chris’ face.

Before making it all the way up, you placed a soft peck against his lips, for only a few seconds, seemingly teasing. He whined when you pulled away, but the second you were hovering over him, he was dead silent.

He lifted his own head up, allowing him to kiss your folds, not being able to pull you down with his hands. You slowly followed his face down, his tongue lapping at your wetness. You bit your bottom lip, stifling your moans. His lips wrapped around your clit, sucking harshly, your stomach flexing in response.

“M-Mph- Good boy— fuck, Chris,” You panted, and felt Chris smile against you. Not in a cocky way. He was just happy he could make you feel this good. His own hips thrusted up, wanting to feel friction- not that it would take him long to do so. The second you came, which would be very soon, you would ride him until he was crying and begging you to stop.

“I-i’m close,” You warned as his tongue dove into you, deeper and deeper. All of those times you’ve seen the boy suck his lips around a lollipop, his tongue swirling around the sweetened candy, you knew he was good with his mouth, but fuck, not this good.

The boy whined in approval underneath you, beginning to shake his head back and fourth, causing his nose to continuously brush against your throbbing clit. You moaned loudly, legs shaking and tightening around Chris’ head as you felt the knot in your stomach snap. You felt your juices run onto Chris’ face, him not wasting a drop.

You slowly backed off of his face, admiring the sight below you. The boy’s chest was heaving, his mouth glistening, his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. You were glad you hadn’t done his mouth makeup yet, because that would be fucked. His nose was already smudged, the makeup beginning to run off of it.

Chris begins squirming impatiently below you, getting tired of waiting. You were lucky his hands were tied back, or he’d be having his way with you. However, he knows his place. You get the hint, and move your way down to the boy’s large cock. You place another kiss on his sensitive tip, this time however, it was unclothed, making the sensation so much more heightened. He bucked his hips up, but immediately pausing afterwards.

“Y’know, if you wanted my mouth so bad,” You started, licking a bold stripe up his throbbing cock, “You could’ve just asked, no?” You teased, and he nodded.

“Y-yes, yes. You’re r-right.. ‘m sorry,” He apologized, kissing his teeth. You don’t listen to him, instead you pushed your head down onto his cock, miraculously taking all of him. “Fuck!” He cried out, loud enough for the fucking astronauts on the moon to hear.

Tears began to flood your eyes as you continued to push your head up and down, pushing yourself, all so you could hear his euphoric cries and whines. You looked up at him through your lidded eyes, seeing his absolutely ruined state. All of his makeup was smudged, some lines of black running down his face in the form of tears and sweat, his hair messily sticking to his slick forehead.

“Y-Y/N! Fuck, Y/N! I’m cum-ming!” He hiccuped, his hips stuttering. You hummed in approval, feeling generous. The vibrations alone were enough to send the brunette over the edge, painting your throat with his white spurts of cum.

You slowly pulled your mouth off of the crying boy, his semi-hard dick flopping down. You leaned forwards, your lips meeting his. His eyes widen, as your tongue dominates his. Slowly, his eyes flutter shut, leaning into the kiss. He felt helpless and vulnerable with his hands tied back like this, but for you, he’d allow it.

You pulled away from his soft swollen pink lips, trailing your open mouthed kisses down to his neck and collarbone, sure to leave few marks here and there. You bit down harshly, causing the boy to let out a sharp moan. You could tell the poor boy was getting hard again, as his cock was pressing against your bare ass.

You pulled away from his sore neck, moving yourself back down to hover over his cock. You slipped your panties to the side, slipping his tip through your wet folds a few times, Chris’ breathing once again speeding up.

“Your safe word is ‘Red’, ‘kay, pretty boy?” You reassured, and he nodded.

“O-okay, ma.” He replies, as you place a kiss to his forehead, and slowly sinking yourself down onto his cock. It wasn’t nearly as painful as it had been the first time that night, but you definitely weren’t used to it quite yet. You whined slightly, causing Chris to throw his head back, his adams apple bobbing in his throat.

You began thrusting yourself up and down, your legs slapping against his hip-bones. He let out strings of loud moans and curses, his hips bucking up every once in a while. You pretended to hate it, but you and he both know you love it. Neither of you would act on it, though. Chris staying obedient to your demands.

Your bounces got sloppier and sloppier as Chris squirmed below you, black tears rolling down his face, his eyes scrunched, holding his orgasm back. He had been pleading you to let him cum for a while now, repeating things like “Ma- please! I can’t take it!” and “Oh, fuck! Please, please, let me cum! I’m a good boy, please!” You wouldn’t lie, his begging was making everything so much better for you, until you began getting closer to your edge as well.

“C-Chris, baby, let go-“ You permitted, and he immediately did so, filling you up, as your cum streaked his cock. You slowed your movement, before coming to a complete stop. “God, you’re amazing,” You praised, kissing the boys forehead, staying on his lap.

“P-please untie me- My arms hurt,” He whined shyly, and you fake pouted.

“Awe, you poor thing.” You tutted, reaching behind his back, pulling the orange bandana off of him, that you actually tied surprisingly tight. The second his hands were free, he grabbed your face, smashing your lips against his roughly.

“Please just stay here- we don’t have to go to that party,” He begged, and you sighed and reluctantly agreed. You began to lift yourself off of him, but he quickly slams you back down, you letting out a sharp gasp as he did so.

“No, stay. Please.” He tilted his head, looking up at you through his eyelashes. You sighed, before pulling him down, laying both of you on your sides, legs tangled, his cock still in your leaking cunt. The sensation was slightly gross to you, but he was hot, so you’d let it slide. The boy cuddled into you, resting his head on your chest before drifting off to sleep, leaving you to wonder,

are you friends— or more?

『 ↳✧･ﾟ Finn yaps❕ ;

😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ I do NOT give permission for my work to be published on any other site, nor to be claimed as your own . However , reblogs , likes , and comments are much appreciated ! 🤍

ੈ✩‧₊ @bernardenjoyer @lovely-calypso @junnniiieee07 @75sturn @tillies33ssss @imwetforyourmom

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #fluff #fanfic #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #angst

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muskyfool · 1 year ago

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#fly tying materials online

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artzychic27 · 8 days ago

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I’m hyperfixiating on Beelzebub right now so… I’m giving Izuku a different quirk based off of her

Izuku’s quirk is an odd one, one he and Inko decided to call Honey Fox because he looks like a fox but with green fur and bee-like features

His hair and tail- yes, he grew a tail- are prehensile and can be manipulated at his will

They also look as though they’re made of a lava lamp based substance colored in bright green, aqua-blue and white with his waist also resembling the substance

He has two sets of arms, and he possesses small, blue bee-like wings which allow him to fly, digitigrade legs, and his fox-like ears have black antennae at the tips

He’s able to materialize items, namely sweet drinks and sweet food like cotton candy from seemingly nothing and he has, mélikinesis which allows him to manipulate honey freely, levitating, moving, expanding, or shrinking it

Izuku is ALWAYS hungry because his lava-lamp waist is always burning his food, and he never gets cavities so he can eat as many sweets as he wants

Katsuki thought it was lame until Izuku trapped some older kids messing with them in a glob of honey

Anyway, they’re in junior high, Izuku’s still triple double his weight, Katsuki’s boasting that he and Izuku will be the only ones going to UA, canon canon canon

Someone else meets All Might, but who?

Anyway, Izuku took down the Zero Pointer by shifting into what he decides to call his ‘Hornet’ form while protecting Ochako

Also, Hanta is seriously OP for some reason. Anyone know why?

They get into UA! Yay!

Mina immediately LOVES Izuku

Quirk Apprehension Test goes about the same, but Izuku create a cloud made out of cotton candy to float the ball up to the sky, tying with Ochako for her record of infinity

Also, Shouto’s wondering, “Are you Lunch Rush’s secret love child, or something?”

Izuku: Maybe. I never knew my dad. Wanna test that theory?

Katsuki: It is too early for this bullshit, Deku.

That’s it for now

#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha au #midoriya izuku

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theladyofbloodshed · 10 months ago

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Chapter 21

Feyre had swept into the red-brick house like a phantom wind. Her visit lasted no more than half an hour – and apparently she had arrived the night before, after Azriel and Cassian had raced off to find her. Her other family was deemed more important than her sisters. While they were cloistered away to hide the damage, they were unimportant. All the visit had done was upset Elain more because it had brought with it confirmation that they could never go home.

Nesta had managed to soothe her when Feyre and Cassian departed. Her head was still in Nesta’s lap, fingers running through the silken strands of dark hair. Elain had stopped crying. It had been replaced with a quiet grief that was worse.

Maybe one day Nesta could grieve for the life she had lost. Maybe she’d have a chance to stop and weep that she’d been tied to a faerie by fate without a choice in the matter.

Not today.

Faintly, she could make out the soft pad of feet through a house that she believed to be empty. Warily, Nesta opened the door a crack. Her heart already knew it wasn’t the shadowsinger – and she hated that she could know that without trying.

A male with a sheet of red, shining hair was walking along the corridor as if he had turned abruptly at the sound of the door. He paused, glancing back towards her.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’

The male – Lucien, he was called – froze.

‘Get out,’ Nesta said through clenched teeth.

He raised his palms in a peace offering that was unwanted. ‘I’ve been granted refuge here.’

‘I don’t care. You stay away. I don’t care what imaginary string you think is tying you to my sister. Forget about it.’

Nesta watched him go with a small amount of pride in her chest that he had so easily scuttled away. That was until dinner when she was pressured to attend. She had tried her best to coax Elain to join them – then when she knew Lucien Vanserra would be seated at the table, she promised to bring Elain’s dinner to her. If Nesta attended the dinner, she could keep eyes on Lucien rather than him skulking off to seek out Elain.

Wearing a long-sleeved, dark blue gown that clung to her curves, Nesta entered the dining room and blocked out the sudden hush and stares.

‘Where did that dress come from?’ Mor breezed towards her, hands pawing at the fine material. ‘I want one.’

Her own dress exposed much of her midriff, back, and chest. The almost-sheer red panels of the skirt flashed her legs. The female may as well have been bare.

‘I assume my mate dug it up somewhere,’ said Feyre.

‘He gets all the credit for clothes and he never tells me where he finds them. He still won’t tell me where he found Feyre’s dress for Starfall. Bastard.’

Nesta hated them all staring at her. Worse still was because this dress had not come from a long-forgotten chest of clothes. No, a male who had decided that he belonged to Nesta had been to a seamstress to have it made for her. If the attention was on her for too long, the others would realise that this was a new gown, designed perfectly for her body.

Mor examined the silver combs in her hair – another gift that had appeared when she refused to leave her rooms. ‘It’s a good thing we’re not the same size – or else I might be tempted to steal the dress.’

She kept her face blank, wishing this inspection would finish. ‘Fortunately for you, I don’t return the sentiment.’

Nesta claimed a seat as Azriel choked on his wine at the other end of the table.

The dinner was fine. Nothing she’d want to repeat in a hurry. Not with the odd, little creature beside her claiming they were the same. Not with Cassian and Morrigan drinking more and growing louder with each glass or sticking their tongues out like urchin children. Regardless of their lack of manners, Nesta followed the volley of conversation back and forth. Only Azriel did not offer anything to it when even the red-haired male contributed to the conversation - until he suggested teaching Feyre to fly. There was a terseness in his tone as Azriel explained that he had learnt later. Nesta felt his pain, felt it as acutely as if the wound had been inflicted upon her. Shadows wreathed his hands as though they were comforting him too.

‘I can show you how to engage your powers, girl,’ said Amren. Nesta did not want to admit that a fire simmered in her blood and constantly pushed at the edges in its desire to be unleashed. ‘Rhysand, when you go the Court of Nightmares, we will go with you.’

‘What?’ Feyre said with a gasp.

‘The Hewn City is a trove of objects of power. There may be opportunities for Nesta to practise. Let the girl get a feel for what something like the wall or the Cauldron might be like.’

‘No,’ rumbled Azriel.

‘Covertly,’ added Amren.

‘That is no place for Nesta,’ he said. The warning was clear enough, but Nesta hated how the eyes in the room flickered between him and her, at the way he’d leapt to protect her.

Feyre cleared her throat. ‘We might need your assistance during the meeting with the High Lords – to provide testimony to other courts and allies of what Hybern is capable of. What was done to you.’

‘No.’

‘You don’t mind fixing the wall or going to the Court of Nightmares, but speaking to people is where you draw your line?’

Nesta’s mouth tightened. She could not relive that night. Could not trot out her story for all to see when it caused her so much grief. ‘No.’

‘Feyre,’ warned Azriel. ‘She does not want to.’

Despite being startled by Azriel’s low, rough tone, Feyre turned back to Nesta. ‘People’s lives might depend on your account of it. The success of this meeting with the High Lords might depend upon it.’

Nesta couldn’t do it. She was back in her bedroom, the first sounds of an intrusion snapping her from the sheets in her sheer panic to get to Elain.

‘Don’t talk down to me. My answer is no.’

Feyre angled her head, nodding sympathetically. ‘I understand that what happened to you was horrible—'

‘You have no idea what it was or was not. None. And I am not going to grovel like one of those Children of the Blessed, begging High Fae who would have gladly killed me as a mortal to help us. I’m not going to tell them that story—my story.’

‘The High Lords might not believe our account, which makes you a valuable witness—’

Nesta shoved her chair back, chucking her napkin on her plate, gravy soaking through the fine linen. A witness. Not a victim. A damn witness.

‘Then it is not my problem if you’re unreliable. I’ll help you with the wall, but I am not going to whore my story around to everyone on your behalf.’

She shot to her feet, colour rising to her ordinarily pale face, and hissed, ‘And if you even dare suggest to Elain that she do such a thing, I will rip out your throat.’

***

All that night, Azriel had stayed awake in the House of Wind. Once the others had departed either to bedrooms in the house or elsewhere in Velaris, he took up his post beside the bedroom door like he had many weeks before. Azriel leant against the wall, shadows blanketing his outstretched legs.

He’d caught the soft murmur of Nesta’s voice as she spoke to Elain but there had been no responses from the sister. The bedroom had been silent for some time. Still, Azriel remained there. Nesta had banished him. Had refused to look at him during dinner, had opted to take the seat at the other end of the table than be anywhere near him. Azriel could not stay away. Knowing she was on the other side of the door soothed him. His mate was close by.

At the sound of her crossing the room, Azriel stilled. If she jerked open the door and found him there, she’d unleash hell.

Careful not to make a sound with his wings, Azriel stood. Shadows veiled him.

It was worse than Nesta opening the door to find him there.

Her crying seeped through to him. Unrestrained, broken tears from a female forced into a world she wanted no part of.

Azriel pressed his hand to the wooden door, wishing he could haul it open and hold his mate.

A day later, Rhys gave the summons that the sisters were to be moved to the town house with immediate effect – and kept far from Lucien Vanserra. Through the grapevine of Feyre then Mor then Cassian, Azriel had discovered that Elain had left the room of her own accord and Lucien had happened across her in the library. How the male could still draw breath after facing a fearsome, protective Nesta, he did not know.

Their belongings were packed quickly and bundled on the roof ready to be winnowed. Azriel knew better than to reach for Nesta to offer to fly her; she dared not even glance his way. That cool indifference was a mask he already wanted to rip away. Instead, Azriel cradled an unresponsive Elain in his arms on the roof. Realising that she would be in Cassian’s arms, Nesta looked as though she’d rather walk off of the roof.

‘Precious cargo,’ crooned Cassian. ‘I’ll carry you gently.’

One of Azriel’s shadows darted at Cassian, stinging him on the neck like a wasp.

Feyre nudged Nesta towards Rhys instead, but neither seemed thrilled at that prospect either. It left Cass with Lucien.

They landed first with Feyre winnowing not a second later. Elain’s hair snagged on the scales of his leathers as he gently put her down.

‘Would you like to see the garden again?’

Each day, Elain was fading more. At least she had talked to Lucien in the library, but it had been little more than half-riddles and questions from what he’d gathered. If Elain did not heal, it would leave a wound in Nesta that could never be forgotten. Azriel coaxed her around the garden, offering names for flowers or plants that his mother had taught him in lieu of conversation.

Once the others had arrived, he heard the stomp of Nesta’s feet – could recognise the gait. He rushed through the house, abandoning Elain to the flowers.

‘I need a toilet,’ she said, pressing her hand to her mouth.

‘What did you do?’

Azriel pulsed forwards, not caring who or what was in his path. Brother or high lady, he didn’t care.

‘I asked him the same thing,’ said Feyre, crossing her arms. ‘He said he went fast.’

Tempting, so tempting to blast Rhys with all seven of his siphons to see if he enjoyed going fast too. Cassian caught the flare of his temper and cut him off with a wing.

‘She’s terrified of heights, you bastard,’ Azriel snarled. ‘She will never fly again.’

The sounds of her vomiting splattering against the bowl pierced their stalemate.

Rhys was watching him closely, violet eyes flicking from his clenched fists to the bathroom door. Then the brass knob twisted. Nesta’s face was still greenish-pale but her eyes burned like molten ore. It was quicksilver set aflame with one target.

All of her attention was fixed on Rhys.

A burst of shadows tried to stop her, tried to cling to her arms and legs as she powered forwards, silver flames crawling over her body.

‘Nesta,’ Feye snapped, urgency ringing out.

Rhys braced himself, shields going up.

It would be his own damn fault if Nesta slayed him, but the alternative was Keir in command.

Azriel stepped in front of her path. He seized both of her hands, not caring for the sting of her flames, so cold they burnt.

‘Stop,’ he said, voice low enough that only she might hear.

She’d lose herself to magic. A beautiful, terrible magic that would consume her from the inside out to seek its vengeance.

‘Nesta,’ he murmured, thumbs rubbing the backs of her hands.

She blinked slowly. The burning, molten gaze became normal again and she slid her hands out of his grasp.

Lucien breathed, ‘What are you?’

‘I made it give something back,’ she said with terrifying quiet. ‘I wish to go to my room.’

‘Take the one on the left,’ Feyre said, eyeing her warily. ‘We need to go to the Hewn City in three hours.’

Nesta gave a single nod of acknowledgement then weakly trailed up the stairs – and it took all of Azriel’s strength to remain there rather than follow her.

***

All of it was useless. The black dress that Amren had stuffed her in, the haughty look she had perfected to skim the Hewn City's faces, the hope that her powers might prove useful in protecting the wall. It was all a useless waste of time.

Amren had walked her through the room of objects, many of them leaping off the shelf to either avoid her or to hurt her. She’d ended up with welts on her arm where a statue had come to life and clung to her before Nesta could produce a shield. Amren didn’t go easy. Said it was her own fault for slow reactions – as if she hadn’t only been taught how to do it the day earlier.

Failure was ringing in her ears even as they returned to Velaris. An argument spilt out between Morrigan and Rhysand then between the latter and Amren. Cassian had been closest to her and swept Nesta behind his wings anticipating an eruption. The mood had remained terse. Elain had appeared rambling about withered hands and crying girls. Lucien had the perfectly splendid idea of a healer seeing to Elain which Feyre whole-heartedly agreed with as if it hadn’t already happened. Madja had already been to see Elain multiple times and found nothing wrong with her.

Nesta had thrashed in the sheets, too hot to settle, to stressed to remain there. If they didn’t use her to whore her story out to the high lords then Feyre would plonk Elain on a chair in front of them all like a spectacle. The delicate girl who traded her sanity for immortality.

Wisps of clouds swirled across the night sky. Even Nesta could admit that the Night Court had a sky to be envious of, as if there were more stars here despite that being impossible. She settled herself in a chair in the lounge and cracked open a window.

‘Nesta.’

The voice was whisper-soft, so tender that she thought that she’d imagined it like a being had carried her name on the wind.

Nesta glanced at the doorway, finding it empty, then pulled her thin blanket tighter around her shoulders. Despite open windows, she was warm – yet couldn’t relinquish the safety of a thin sheet around her shoulders in the living room as she read by candlelight. She turned back to her book although her attention had struggled to stay with it. It had struggled to stay with anything recently. Sleep was not a regular occurrence and the evidence of that became more apparent through her irritable mood and pale complexion.

‘Nesta,’ the low, male voice repeated.

From the shadows, a figure stepped across the threshold. A mist had dusted Azriel’s hair, dampening it which was at odds to the dry, hot summer they were experiencing in Velaris. It seemed that Nesta was not the only one who struggled to sleep.

‘I don’t want you here,’ she said firmly, body coiling tight enough to strike from his presence.

Her words landed like a blade sinking into soft flesh. She’d seen him as the merciless spymaster in the Hewn City that night. That icy exterior hadn’t given anything away. Azriel had looked as though he cared for nothing except pain.

‘I know,’ replied Azriel, voice hoarse. Still, he stepped closer then revealed a book from his leathers. It was bound in pale blue cloth that reminded her of the sea. Carefully, Azriel opened it where the ribbon had held the page then set it before her.

He gave a slight incline of his head, encouraging her to read.

Once a mating bond has been accepted by the female, it is a force that can only be cleaved by death. In such incidences, the male feels the loss significantly and is never the same as a result. Many males have fallen to madness as a result. Although rare, females can overcome their grief and return to a relatively calm life.

‘Are you suggesting I kill you?’

Azriel’s lips quirked at the notion of violence. A scarred finger guided hers further down the text.

Prior to acceptance, the mating bond remains malleable. For some, it can be interpreted as a string tying two souls together and others have reported it as spun metal, unbending and unwilling. Due to the physical nature of it, spell-casters can feel bonds and sever them. It requires the blood from a dying male’s throat and the blood of a birthing female. In addition, the spell must be performed beneath a blood moon beside fresh running water.

Hope flowered in Nesta’s chest. There was a way to sever the tie to Azriel. It was possible… and he’d offered up that information to her freely.

The loss of a mate leaves irreparable damage.

Her eyes shot from the line to him. Her nostrils flared. ‘What sort of damage?’

‘It’s rarely felt by females.’

She straightened her spine, drawing herself taller. Nesta held Azriel’s stare until he relented and gave her the answers she needed.

‘Females can feel like they’ve lost something. Like part of them is missing.’

‘And males?’

He lifted a shoulder. ‘It’s unimportant.’

‘Azriel,’ she snapped, voice cracking through the silent lounge like a whip.

He didn’t balk from her anger – he never had. If Azriel had not been there to block her path earlier, Nesta would have unleashed that silver fire on his high lord for flying her too quickly.

‘Males can be driven to madness. They can remain possessive, be agitated if the female finds love again. They can believe themselves entitled to her.’

Nesta gave a choked laugh. ‘So, I am damned whatever I do.’

He dared to take a step forward. ‘No. I respect your choice. I’d rather cut out my heart than ever hurt you. And I have hurt you. I should have told you. You were mortal and I didn’t believe it could snap. One day, we’d forget each other. You’d grow old and it wouldn’t matter. Then you were brought into our world and I couldn’t tell you after everything had happened. I wanted you to live and this would hurt you again.’ He swallowed, the gulp audible. ‘You were starting to be happy. I couldn’t ruin it.’

It was the most they had talked in days. The temptation to reach out for him, to ease his pain, burnt in her gut.

‘A blood moon isn’t until three months from now. I’ve secured a spell-caster from the Continent who can perform the spell when it’s time.’

‘Is that where you’ve been every night?’

Azriel eased out a breath. He was still stood awkwardly in the room, afraid to come closer or get comfortable. ‘Yes and no. I’ve been trying to find a way into the mortal queens’ castle. This was a side project.’

‘Oh,’ she replied. ‘I thought you were avoiding me.’

‘You don’t want me near you.’

Had she said that? Nesta supposed it was true. She reviled the bond. Despised the notion of fate blindly shackling her to another.

But this was a male who’d left little pastries at her door, had visited a seamstress for new clothes, and returned to a ruined manor to retrieve the last traces of her life.

Nesta wish she could comb through what was real and what was encouraged by a bond. Would he have done any of these things if fate didn’t encourage it?

‘You would really sever the bond?’

A single shadow peered at them as if it had been sent forwards by the others to listen in and report back.

‘I made a promise that I’d protect you,’ he said. Regret flashed on his face. ‘I failed. I’ve researched and there’s no way to reverse what the Cauldron did to you. This is the only way I can conceive of to make things better.’

‘This is atonement?’ demanded Nesta.

‘This is what you want.’

The idea of wrenching something away that could never be replaced was not foreign to her. She had lost her mother, her home twice over. Even if Nesta was unscathed by it, the very thought of causing irreparable damage to Azriel then having to force him to be in her presence was too cruel.

She stood so she could look at him properly. ‘What do you want?’

Her chest felt as if it was caving in as she took in the forlorn expression upon his beautiful face. For her, Azriel would ruin the bond. Whether it was for atonement or a punishment to himself, did not matter. He would be damaged forever as a result.

She didn’t want that.

Azriel was the only one who had tried to make Velaris feel like a home.

She couldn’t hurt him. All of her own research into mating bonds spoke of their joy, their rarity. Accounts spoke of mates dying for the other, going to the edge of the world to save each other. For most, it was a happy match. Two souls destined for the other despite obstacles. They were meant to be a perfect balance. How could she take that from him?

A panicked sob ripped through her.

‘Take that book away. I don’t want to see it.’

His shadows curled over the book summoning it to him and out of sight.

Nesta’s hands trembled. ‘You’d just sever it like that? You wouldn’t fight? You will never be the same. How can you be willing to do this? You will be happy with this?’

Her head was spinning. The idea of losing that thread tying them together made her chest ache as keenly as if it had already been taken away. Her palm splayed across her ribs as if Nesta could feel the tether to him pulling tighter.

Azriel made to reach for her then thought better of it, the anguish plain to see.

‘You are my mate,’ he said quietly. ‘Your happiness is the most important to me. That’s what it means to have a mate, Nesta. I only want a good life for you.’

‘And I shouldn’t reciprocate that?’ Her voice sounded shrill. How odd that she’d stood on the battlefield then decided to change sides once she’d seen her opponent. ‘How do you think I will feel if I do this and it ruins you?’

Azriel’s lips pursed then he opened them then closed them. His brows bunched together before a warped laugh escaped him.

‘You wanted to sever the bond but now you’re angry with me for finding a way?’

She lifted her chin. ‘Yes.’

The corner of his mouth twitched. A lightness lifted his hazel eyes.

‘Don’t look at me like that. Don’t look so hopeful. I don’t know what I want. We’re running towards a war and I’ve barely caught my breath but all I know is that I feel better near you,’ she said in a hurry before the words could be locked away.

This time, Azriel did find his bravery and took a step closer so there were inches between them. His hair had dried, the ends curling slightly around the sharp planes of his face.

‘You have three moons to think about it, Nesta. Don’t consider me. This needs to be about you.’

How could Nesta not consider Azriel in this situation? It was surely his decision as much as hers. He had never asked to be her mate – nobody would want that. The repercussions would cause more pain to him than her.

‘What about the alternative?’

At his confusion, Nesta continued, ‘If it isn’t severed?’

‘If it’s left hanging and never accepted?’

‘No. The other one.’

His eyes snapped wide. A soft exhale was released.

‘I told you once that I’d hold you until only the poets remembered us,’ murmured Azriel. He dared to reach out a finger and run it down the length of her arm. ‘I will give you the life you deserve. Ours would be a love that the poets wished they had written.’

Nesta when Azriel finds a way to sever the bond:

#nezriel

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