#i wanna go and stand out in the rain with him
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Attention
MDNI
Pairing-Elijah*Smoke*Moore x BlackOC
A/N-If you guys have any suggestions or advice I would love to hear it sine I donât know how to write smexy scenes that good also I love comments so leave those other than that I hope you enjoy lovelies
Summary-Arna returns to the Mississippi Delta and, upon visiting the Smokestack Twins juke joint, captures the attention of a former lover who still harbors some resentment over her departure.
Itâs late. Past two Arna walk past her sister zara and stack. The juke jointâs about emptied out except for the broken bottles, and the blues.
Arna walk in slowâheels clicking like clock hands on hardwood, time rewinding with every stepâand she doesnât look around. She knows exactly where he is.
The top deck. Alone. Brooding like a storm waiting to remember how to rain.
Smokeâs eyes find Arna before she even reach him. And she feel it. Like heat on skin, like gravity sharpening.
Yeah, you know I see you over there (ooh-ooh)
Girl, you caught my eye (yeah)
He doesnât smile. He just leans back, one hand on the railing, cigarette barely touched, jaw clenched under the brim of that fedora. The way he watches her walk is criminal. She stand beside him. And she knows what heâs thinking.
Love the way you put it on
Girl, you got my attention
All of my attention, yes
âYou always this dressed up when you come to haunt a man?â Smoke asks, voice thick as bourbon and twice as warm.
He looked her up and down, slow. The dress clings to her like a secret. âOnly when the ghostâs still breathinâ.â
He laughs, but thereâs no joy in it. Just gruffness. âYou got a mean way of cominâ back, girl.â
Tight black linen, sheer
Perked up in brassiere
Yeah, you got me, uh-huh, uh-huh
Burninâ up in here
She tilts her head. He's sweating. âSeems like someone didn't forget me,â Arna teases.
Two black five-inch heels
Dressinâ to kill âem here
I ainât sweatinâ these women here
The essence is missinâ here
Smoke shifts forward. His voice drops. âYou think I ainât tried to forget you? Had every reason to. But damn if you donât walk in like the ending I never got.â
Arna stayed silent. Letting him get it out.
So Iâm ready to disappear
Letâs just go, my dear (mm)
She leaned in close, just enough to pull him back in with scent alone. âThen disappear with me.â
His fingers tap the edge of the glass in front of him, untouched. âYou still dangerous.â
Arna smiled. âOnly to men who lie to themselves.â
âCause the way you put it on
Make me wanna take it off you
Got me so amazed, in awe
I donât wanna wait, no (I donât wanna wait)
The tensionâs tight, like the air just before thunder. They both feel it. The weight of memory. The ache of almost.
Nah, come on
I donât wanna wait, but youâre stayinâ for the champagne
2 a.m. is creepinâ up, you know how to keep me up
âStill drinkinâ that bootleg you claim aged you?â She tease.
âI been aged,â he mutters. âLiquor just tries to keep up.â
She touch his hand. Not soft. Not slow. Like she meant it. His pulse jumps under your fingers.
No, it wonât be easy, but Iâll be here, believe me, yes (yeah)
She turninâ me up, am I not tipsy-turvy enough?
Baby, my vision gettinâ blurry, huh
Smoke stares at her like heâs memorizing her again. Like heâs starving.
Blurry enough, but I can still see and Iâm certain, ah-ah, mm
The way you light it up in here
Dress shimmer like the chandelier
Diamonds in your ear
âI never looked at nobody like I look at you,â he says, low. âYou knew that. Still left.â
Arna look him dead in the eye. âMaybe I wanted you to come find me.â
You makinâ one thing very clear
And baby, when you put it on
Thereâs no competition
They both lean in at once. Magnetized. Dizzy. So close you forget what holding back ever felt like.
I watch you make a entrance, baby
Yes, and you can tell by my description (you fit it well, and girl)
âI wonât never fail to mention it,â Smoke says, voice cracking like vinyl. âWhat we were. What we still are.â
I wonât never fail to mention (how you polish every detail)
Losinâ time, tryna go the distance
You got all my attention, baby
Iâm ready to disappear
Letâs just go, my dear
He offers a hand. She take it.
No one says where theyâre going. Doesnât matter. They already left the world behind the moment she walked in.
âCause the way you put it on
Make me wanna take it off you
Got me so amazed, in awe
I donât wanna wait, no (I donât wanna wait)
The door swings shut behind them. The blues music fades.
Nah, come on
I donât wanna wait, but youâre stayinâ for the champagne
2 a.m., itâs creepinâ up, you know how to keep me up
Arna donât look back. Neither does smoke .
đđĽđđŤđ¤đŹđđđĽđ, đđ˘đŹđŹđ˘đŹđŹđ˘đŠđŠđ˘ đ:đđđđŚ
The motel room is dim and dusty, lit only by the neon beer sign flickering through the blinds. Arna barely make it through the door before Smoke has her pinned against itâhat hitting the floor, mouth crashing into hers with the force of everything unspoken between them.
âThought you were just here to haunt me,â he mutters against her throat. âDidnât know you came to surrender.â
Her breath catches in her throat. âI didnât come to surrender.â
He chuckles darkly. âThen Iâma take it.â
One hand snakes up her thigh, dragging her dress high, while the other wraps tight around her jawânot rough, but firm. Claiming. He forces her head back just enough to look in her eyes.
âYou want my attention?â he growls. âYou got it, baby. All of it.â
He spins her around, palms flat to the wood, her body pressed to the door as his hips grind up behind her. She can feel himâhard, thick, hungryâand her knees almost give out, but he doesnât let her drop.
âYou donât get to run this time,â he whispers into Arnaâs ear, voice low and gritty. âYou gonna take everything I give you, understand?â
She nod, breathless.
âNo, baby. Say it.â
âI understand.â
âGood.â
He tears the dress down her shoulders, letting it puddle around her heels. His fingers slide between her legs, slow at firstâthen deeper, wetter, coaxing breathy moans out of her until sheâs arching into him. But just when she start to beg, he pulls away.
âYou think you make the rules, but this? This is my show.â
She hear the sound of his zipper sliding. Then the thick head of him presses between your thighs.
âOpen up for me,â he murmurs, guiding her legs apart with a knee.
And thenâhe fills her. One deep, devastating stroke that steals her breath.
âDamn,â he groans into your neck. âTighter than I remember.â
He doesnât give you time to adjustâhe sets a rhythm, deep and slow at first, each thrust deliberate, punishing in how good it feels. Her fingers claw at the door, but Smoke just presses harder into her, one hand tangling in her hair, yanking her head back so he can watch her face in the mirror across the room.
âYou see what you do to me?â he pants. âYou see how wild you make me?â
Each word is a thrust. Each thrust is a promise.
He bends her forward, one hand gripping her hip, the other slipping under her belly to stroke her clit while he pounds into her from behindârougher now, relentless.
âYou wanted my attention,â he growls. âNow you got me losinâ my damn mind.â
Her moans are ragged, pleading. He knows sheâs close, and it makes him even rougher, more possessive. He presses his chest to her back and whispers in her ear.
âDonât you dare come âtil I say so.â
âYou hear that, baby?âhe whispers. âMy pussy's talkinâ to me, hm,â he groaned.
The control in his voice makes her knees buckleâbut he holds her up, pushing her harder, deeper, until the burn turns to bliss.
Then, finallyââgive it to me, baby.â
And she fall apart, shaking, crying out his name as he thrusts once, twice, then groans against her neck as he follows her over the edge.
Silence. Only the sound of breathing, tangled and spent.
He kisses the side of her neck, soft now. âTold you I never forgot you.â
She canât speak. Can barely stand.
âNext time you leave,â he whispers, âyou better take me with you.â
#sinners fic#sinners x reader#sinners movie#sinners 2025#sinners imagine#smoke moore#smokestack twins#smoke x reader#elijah x reader#elijah x oc#smoke smut#smoke sinners#sinners#Spotify
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Part 02: Distressing Transience
Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader x Bucky Barnes | Stucky x F!Reader Warnings: Fluff | Angst | Angry & Grumpy Bucky | Mutual Pining | Eventual Poly Relationship | Eventual Smut Galore | Eventual Fluff Galore | ~3k | Canon Divergent | Nightmare | Bucky's Hydra-Related Trauma | Happy Ending (it's me!) Kept the warnings basic 'coz I don't wanna reveal too much. If angsty or mature content affects you, please refrain from reading | Unbeta'd | Lemme know if I'm missing anything! A/N: I'm excited for the great reveal in this. 𼰠This is based on a request. The OC version of this story will run in parallel, but since I got quite a few requests for a reader version, here it goes! Hope you enjoy! ⨠Take a moment to reblog or share your thoughts--it makes all the difference in the world. Note: Do not Steal, Copy, or Plagiarize any part of my work! Banner and Divider made by me in Canva. Picture credits to the internet! Thank you :) Check out my other works: Masterlist
Series Masterlist
Indulge Away!
Skovheim, Norway, 2011
It was bitterly cold. You draped the throw blanket from the couch, hoping to keep yourself warm.
You hated the cold. It reminded you of terrible times. Times of loss.
You'd pushed those thoughts away and went to check on the cake. Plum. Bucky's absolute favorite. You set the cake on the tray to let it cool.
Outside, the birch tree branches rattled on the kitchen window. The wind seemed to picked up. It had been raining since morning, which was rare for this time of year.
The tiny clock over the small island in the kitchen ticked past seven.
Bucky was never late.
Fear mounted you by the second. You turned off the light in kitchen to get a glimpse down the winding road. It was too hard to get a view through the fogged up window. The heavy rain blurred everything outside, but that was your only view. The sensors had stopped working and needed to be replaced. Bucky had installed several of them, starting from the point where the hidden road to your isolated home began, down at the base of the hill.
The cottage was located up the steep hill, hidden by luscious trees, with a patch of birch trees between the thick coverage. It was beautiful, to say the least, but most importantly, it was strategic. One side was shielded by the edge of the cliff, which overlooked the sea, and there was only one way of entry and no residences nearby.
You told yourself the roads were probably flooded--or maybe there were fallen trees. Bucky was a supersoldier; moving a tree or two would be nothing for him. Still, unease coiled tight in your chest. You could sense him, just like you had always known he was alive--even back when the world grieved Sgt. Barnes' heroic death in World War II. You knew Bucky was alive.
But you worried.
You were, after all, more human. Moments like this made you wish you had the power to teleport.
You didn't want him to go in the first place, but you were running low on groceries, and Bucky was fretting about replacing the sensors in the security system. Usually, night was a safer time to avoid interaction with the townsfolk. Also, Arne, your trusted contact, was to meet with Bucky in the town to deliver the equipment, monitors, transponders, sensors, and a few others. You hated that you couldn't convince Bucky to let you join. James Buchanan Barnes was a stubborn man, alright.
When you heard a distant rumble, you were unsure if it was just the whether; you could barely make the lights--one brighter than the other--of the pickup truck in the foggy downpour.
You ran and waited by the door. Your nerves wouldn't settle until you saw him. Standing by the door, you chanted, 'Come on. Come on.'
After a few minutes, you heard the shuffling behind the door. Then came the muffled creak of the floor. A groan behind the door frame made you freeze.
Silence.
You waited.
Then, two knocks. Two seconds apart.
Your body moved before you could breathe in relief, hand on the knob, waiting. He'd drilled it into your head: Never open unless you hear the knock.
You unlatched the door and let it swing open against the push of the wind.
Bucky stepped inside, closing the door behind him, with more force than necessary. Water dripped from the hem of his jacket, pooling on the wooden floor. The cap was soaked, plastered to his head, shadowing his eyes.
He didn't greet you with the usual, 'I'm here, I'm okay.' in that gentle tone like he usually assured you every time he returned.
You searched his eyes, worry wrecking your gut.
"I'm fine," Bucky muttered after a few seconds, eyes flicking to your face.
You let out a sigh of relief. He seemed off but you didn't think much about it, more worried that he was soaked to the bones.
"You're drenched," you said.
"It's pouring," he offered with a faint, bitter chuckle, trying to toe off his boots, but they were sloppy wet, squelching with the slightest movement.
"You don't say," you chuckled, crouching down to help him tug the boot off.
"I got it," he hissed sharply.
You stilled immediately, retrieving your hand and standing up. Bucky rarely got this way. After escaping from the clutches of Hydra, touch bothered him, but that was years ago. He never shied away from your touch. However, it seemed like he was past that. Now, your mind was back to worrying.
"Are you okay?" You asked softly. Bucky visibly stiffened. Your focus shifted to his right palm, fisted tightly around the box in his hand. Bucky seemed to notice you glance because he loosened his grip.
He carefully placed the plastic wrapped carton beside the door, along with two other bags, wordlessly.
You dragged the old chair from the dining table, the legs scraping softly across the wood. He lowered himself into the chair, broad shoulders hunched, clothes clinging to his body and accentuating his form. Bucky didn't meet your eyes, removing his shoes, almost tearing them off his feet.
Reaching for his cap, you gently tugged it off his head. He finally looked at you, and you were pretty sure he looked miffed.
"You'll get sick," you mumbled. You just needed to hug him.
"I don't get sick," he quipped.
You tutted, his mood firing up your frustration further, but you knew nothing would yield when he was in a mood.
You'd have to wait to ask questions later, once he showered and ate.
You'd have to wait for that hug.
"Hang up your things. I'll make you some tea. Don't take long in the shower," you said.
The stiffness in his shoulder became evident when he walked to the bathroom at the far end of the living room. That shoulder must be acting up again. You wondered if he'd let you ease the pain in peace or if you'd have to coax him into it. The cold always made it worse.
Gosh! You hated the cold!
~
By the time Bucky returned from the shower and changed into his joggers and Henley, you had mopped the floor and unpacked the groceries from the waterproof bags.
His hair was still wet, droplets falling. It was fricking cold, and this man didn't flinch. It bothered you how blatantly reckless he was with his health.
It bothered you how much he affected you, all while looking infuriatingly gorgeous. You'd rather not delve into those waters. It was a dangerous realm.
So, you ignored the trickling water droplets down the expanse of his neck and internally berated yourself. You handed him the cup of tea and turned to fetch a dry towel.
Bucky's gaze followed you when you walked to get another dry towel. You noticed him eyeing the cake when you returned.
"You're not getting a single piece unless you dry your hair right now," you said pointedly, pushing the towel toward him.
"Is that so," he sniggered, looking down at you. You caught the sly twitch of his pink lips before he turned to sit on the couch.
Bucky wasn't the man you remembered from the 40s--the playful, flirty, sassy, nerdy boy from Brooklyn. Hydra had changed him immensely so. It had been almost a decade since he escaped their clutches, a decade since you found him. He was healing slowly but surely. You'd like to believe that. You'd been through a lot, collectively as well as individually. So, the little glimpses of the lost man always rejoiced you. Eventually, he'd get there. He had to.
"Stop it, you'll hurt your neck," you chastised when you noticed him vigorously moving his head against the towel. You pulled the towel from his grasp, at least tried. Initially, Bucky didn't budge but he reluctantly let go. You smiled, victorious, as he slumped into the couch and sighed, letting you gently towel off his hair.
You knew he hadn't slept well last night. He'd nearly finished reading the book he had started--you'd noticed the bookmark in the morning.
Every time he had to go into the town, he got tense. Bucky wouldn't tell you, but you knew it. You'd been living and navigating through this life for a few years now. Though you were grateful he'd come a long way, Bucky still had a long winding road ahead to fully heal.
"That's how you do it, Sergeant Barnes," you jested, pulling his hair back into a small bun. He let out a satisfied hum, which made your stomach flip.
"Hand me that scrunchie."
He leaned over, tugging you gently along the couch as you held his hair together. That's when you noticed him flinching.
"Bucky?" You quickly tied his hair and moved around to sit beside him on the couch. You tried to reach for his hand, but he pulled away.
"Bucky," you prompted, this time pleading.
He sighed, pulling the sleeve of his right arm up over his veiny forearm, revealing a long gash of red and blue bruising that marred his skin. If his serum didn't already heal, it only meant the bruise was worse, to begin with.
"What happened?" You asked, worried and angry that he hadn't told you about it.
"It's nothing," he dismissed, "Got a flat, had to change the tire in the nasty weather. Hurt myself," he finished, already pulling away, but you held onto it with all your strength, fighting him. He didn't look guilty, unlike the other times when he hid his injuries or sufferings. He looked unapologetic.
"Bucky."
"I'm fine," he murmured.
"Shut up and stay put," You hissed, livid. This wasn't the first time, and you knew it wasn't going to be the last. Bucky loved to suffer, and he thought he was reaping all the consequences of his actions. You'd fight this war with him until you won despite losing the battles every now and then.
You cupped your palm over his bruise and closed your eyes, feeling the warmth emanate. You felt the faint, dizzying sensation. When you opened your eyes, the bruise faded, and the skin on his warm forearm looked normal, with no sign of the gash anymore.
Bucky's silence was telling, the sharp tick of the jaw and the crease between his brows, and you waited for a long moment, but he said nothing.
"What?" You asked, not being able to bear his silence anymore.
"Nothing." He bit out rather harshly.
"I can't see you hurt," those words hurtled before you could stop. In an attempt to belie your vulnerability--your love, you got up from there, hoping to fade your emotional turmoil. You blinked back the tears threatening to spill and made your way to the kitchen, willing your thoughts to quiet as you focused on heating up dinner.
"Bucky, dinner's ready," you called out, surprised to see him already near his bedroom door.
He paused, hand resting on the doorknob. "I'm not hungry," he remarked.
"I made your favorite cake," you added gently, trying to coax him. You hated it when he went without eating. He hadn't skipped a meal in a long time, not since the early days after escaping Hydra, when nausea haunted him daily. You knew too well that when the mind is in chaos, the appetite is usually the first thing to go.
"Not hungry," he repeated, more bitterly this time, before disappearing into his room and closing the door behind him.
~
You couldn't sleep--not until you knew he was. You'd gotten used to sleeping next to him. Just knowing he was there settled your nerves. You waited for hours, hoping to hear the gentle knock, the soft padding of footsteps, and the familiar 'Can I?'--a question that had become rhetorical over time. But he hadn't come.
You tried to read, but your focus kept slipping away. Feeling thirsty, you reached for your bottle, only to realize it was empty as you gave it a shake.
Ugh! You'd forgotten you'd downed the whole thing when you got hungry earlier in the night.
As you hopped off the bed, you talked yourself out of knocking on his door. But the moment you stepped into the living room, you heard him cry out.
With a sigh, you slid off the bed, quietly debating whether or not to knock on his door. You told yourself not to, and to wait for him to come to you when he was ready, even though you were sure something was wrong.
But the moment you stepped into the living room, a sound stopped you cold.
"NO. PLEASE. NO." Bucky was sobbing, groaning.
The bottle slipped from your hand as your heart leapt into your throat. You bolted for his room. The door was unlocked, thankfully. But he wasn't in bed.
You flicked on the table lamp. The soft light fell over his figure, curled on the floor, trembling.
"Buck. Hey, heyâŚit's okay," you said quickly, crouching beside him and reaching for his face.
"NO. Not you," he cried, grabbing your wrist in a panic.
"It was just a dream," you said, wiping his tear-streaked face.
He caught your hands and pressed your palms against his cheeks. Then he pulled you into his lap, arms tight around you.
"You're hurt," he gasped, frantic, inspecting your neck and arms, turning your hands over, searching.
"Bucky," you said gently, blinking your tears away.
"I'm alright. It was just a nightmare." You reminded.
His chest heaved, "I⌠I thoughtâŚ" But the words broke off as he crushed you to him, sobbing into your shoulder. You held him just as tightly.
After a while, you whispered, "I'll get you some water." But he wouldn't let go.
"Okay. Okay⌠just lie down with me," you murmured. "I'm not going anywhere."
With you in his arms, he rose from the floor without so much as a flinch. You clung to him instinctively, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as he carried you to the bed. You held on as he gently laid you down, then climbed in beside you, immediately curling himself around you. His fingers found yours, intertwining them softly.
"I got you, Bucky. Always," you whispered, feeling his tear-streaked face pressed against your temple. Your right palm settled over his heart, feeling it slowly begin to calm beneath your touch.
~
In an attempt to calm him, you talked about random things--from constellations to the book you'd been reading, which you thought was horrible, and why. He let out a throaty chuckle when you told him you should seriously reconsider the situation with Gollum, the alpine hare you both named, who visited your humble garden now and then and caused a ruckus.
Eventually, you convinced him to let you make some tea, and he followed you to the kitchen without a word.
"BuckâŚ" you started, unsure.
You slid the mug toward him. He leaned onto the counter and slowly sipped. You studied him for a long moment and then asked softly, "What happened out there?" You were pretty sure something was bothering him.
He didn't answer immediately. Bucky took a few slow sips.
"I saw Hagen," Bucky said finally, eyes fully focused on you.
You stilled, staring at him wide-eyed as things clicked into place. The subtle hostility when he'd returned home that evening. The nightmare that followed. It all made sense now. You had chalked it all up to the rain--he was soaked through when he walked in. You should've guessed that his silence was more telling than his words. You didn't expect this though.
The odds of that encounter were next to none tonight. That was what you'd counted on.
Exactly five days ago, when Bucky made the trip to the city to place an order with Arne, the electronics guy, you'd ventured alone into town, breaking his most sacred rule--never go anywhere without me.
But you lived in a far corner of nowhere, surrounded by mountains and mist, and the town was safe even if Bucky thought otherwise.
Mr. and Mrs. Hagen, who owned the small bookstore you frequented, were kind people. That day, you'd noticed how worn Mr. Hagen looked. When you gently asked if he was okay, he told you Mrs. Hagen's health was failing. And when he asked if you wanted to see Mrs. Hagen, you agreed. Mrs. Hagen was a lovely lady. You and Bucky visited the store every now and then, hoarding books as you both enjoyed reading, and Mrs. Hagen often added a couple of books onto the pile for free. 'You can never have enough books.'
"He thinks it was a miracle," Bucky said flatly. "Said you visited," He bit out loud.
But you said nothing.
Bucky stared at you. His jaw tightened. "It fucking makes sense why you looked off that day. You know the price of using your gift."
"She was dying, Buck," you said quietly, looking away. "I couldn't walk away."
"And what about...you?" His voice dropped lower. "What happens when someone gets a whiff?" He gritted out.
You chanced a look at him. The shadow above him from the kitchen light cut sharp lines across his face, making him look like a sculpted god. Albeit an angry-looking god.
"She was suffering," you repeated, moving your gaze onto the foggy kitchen window, rain still pelting.
"That doesn't matter," he snapped. Bucky stepped forward, his right hand finding your elbow as he tugged you toward him. You didn't resist.
"Look at me." Bucky gritted out, frustration marring his features.
Your gaze rose slowly to meet his, guilty.
"What were you thinking?" he asked sharply. You could sense his pain.
"I was thinking she would've died."
"And I'm thinking I can't lose you too," he thundered, like the sky outside. His arm slipped around your back, his grip tightening as he pulled you closer.
You wanted to argue. You wanted to remind him that you were strong, more than human. That you'd lived in the harsh world alone for decades, that you went into the clutches of Hydra's lair to find him, that you weren't the one people should be afraid of. But your mother's words rang loudly in your head, 'Sweetheart, sometimes what makes you powerful is exactly what makes you vulnerableâŚhunted.'
Feeling utterly helpless, your shoulders dropped. You couldn't see people suffer. You carried a lot of regrets yourself. The fact that you didn't find Bucky soon enough after he fell off the train, the fact that you should've stopped Steve from getting the serum. If Steve hadn't, he would not have sacrificed his life. Those haunted you every damn day. So, what if you alleviated Mr. and Mrs. Hagen's suffering. It brought you peace.
"I'm sorry," you whispered, burying your face into his chest.
He sighed into your hair, kissing you tenderly.
"I need you to resist helping people," he pleaded.
"I don't know how Buck," you whispered, holding him tightly.
~
Bucky dreaded love more than he ever feared Hydra. While he mourned the love he had lost--Steve--he also mourned not being the kind of man you deserved. Â
The way you saved him persistently, and resurrected him after Hydra, with years and years of patience. It was beyond his understanding. Gosh! You could totally beat Steve when it came to being stubborn.
He watched you, relaxed in his arms, deep in sleep.
His Angel!
Sometimes, it was hard to believe that you were by his side. His fingers traced your cheek, and you leaned into his touch.
Bucky knew he was a selfish man because he'd never said he loved you out loud, afraid he'd cause an imbalance in the perfect ecosystem. Because he knew you loved him. And even if you never explicitly worded your love, you defined it in every little action. It pained him how deeply you loved him despite what he'd done.
In the late hours of the night, when he curled up beside you--nightmares as an excuse--he'd usually think of a better tomorrow. One where he'd repented the doings of a man in his mind who he'd been unwillingly sharing space with. Where he could love you the way you deserved. Where Steve was still alive, and you all lived in a world where freedom wouldn't be weighed by norms. But fate couldn't be that forgiving, right?
Bucky still hoped and prayed for forgiveness--for the actions he had unwittingly committed. He tried to be a better man every day.
Bucky was protective of you--territorial might befit. But the fact was, you protected him every day. From himself. From his nightmares. You were his salvation.
You shifted, turning more into his side, still deep asleep, slipping your hand around his waist. Bucky chuckled softly, clutching the oversized T-shirt on the little of your back, and pulled you closer.
God! You were divine. So far out of his league. Did you even know that?
He could literally kill for you. And he was close to committing that heinous act that very evening.
He'd gone to the bookstore to buy the book you'd been waiting for, only to overhear Hagen talking about you and 'miracle' in the same breath. The fear hit him instantly. For a moment, he stood frozen, staring at the wrinkled man. A sinister thought crawled into his mind: kill Hagen and his wife. Make it look like a robbery.
Then, Bucky thought of you and felt utterly disgusted with himself for even thinking of it. He wasn't that person, and he'd never be him again. He fled from there as fast as he could, terrified of himself.
He wondered if he could ever truly be the man you deserved. He highly doubted it. But the fact was, he couldn't let you go. He'd already lost Steve. He couldn't fathom losing you, too.
Bucky loved you. With every tiny, broken piece of himself--he loved you.
He moved closer, admiring your peaceful face and enveloping himself in your intoxicating scent.
You were so goddamn delicate. So mesmerizingly pretty. It was up to him to safeguard you.
You'd wake up in a few hours. You hadn't eaten because he hadn't. And he'd been a fucking prick all evening. You'd even baked him his favorite cake, but he'd been too cooped up in his head, too angry at you for being so reckless. Didn't you understand he couldn't live without you?
He'd make your favorite breakfast and apologize. Maybe you'd kiss him on the cheek like you had yesterday. That little kiss where you'd rise on your toes and tug him down gently always made him feel alive.
Bucky leaned in, and placed a small kiss on your forehead. Your scent enveloping him, a medicine to his wounded thoughts and shattered soul. In the confines of his mind, he whispered, 'I love you,' perhaps too loudly for your heart not to hear.
Fic-a-boo Part 03: Perennial Embers The phone rang three times before it was picked up. "Pepper Potts speaking." "Hi...Umm. Hi, Pepper," you said, your voice a little shaky, "I need to cash in that favor."
If you wanna be tagged in my works, add yourself here. <3
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hi icon! could you pleasepleasepleaseplease do a part 2 for NDA (i hope noone has asked you yet i dont wanna be annoying đđ)



NDA Part Two || Song Mingi x Reader
Notes: damn you guys wanted this one badly as well hehe you ask and I deliver hope you guys enjoy!!
Word counts: 2.5k+
Part 1
"No, Mingi. I can't do this anymore," you snap, moving away from him. "I deserve better than to be hidden away and paid for my silence. You may have money, but I have my dignity."
He flinches at your words, but continues to try and reason with you. "I didn't mean for things to get this complicated. I care about you, and I'll make it up to you. Just stay and talk to me." You shake your head, grabbing your purse and heading for the door. "There's nothing left to talk about. This was a mistake from the beginning."
As you walk out, Mingi calls after you one last time. "Y/N, wait! Please!" But you don't look back, letting the door close behind you with a finality that echoes through the hallway. Day after day, Mingi's texts and calls flood your phone. Each notification a reminder of the affair you shared and the emotional turmoil it caused.
"I can't stop thinking about you," "Please, just give me another chance," "I'll do anything to make things right." His words become increasingly desperate and needy. You ignore every message, deleting them without reading. The pain of your brother's anger and Mingi's betrayal still fresh in your mind. Weeks pass and the constant stream of notifications begins to slow down, though he never completely gives up. Each time you think about blocking his number, memories of his touch and whispered promises resurface.
Then the gifts start coming.The gifts become more extravagant with each passing day - designer clothes, jewelry, expensive chocolates, and more. They're delivered with the same message: "I'm sorry. Please forgive me." The flowers arrive daily, each bouquet more grand than the last. "Thinking of you," "Missing your smile," "I love you." His words haunt you, making it harder to resist the pull of his affections.
You know you should tell him to stop, but something keeps stopping you. A small part of you still feels drawn to him despite everything that happened. The gifts and messages continue relentlessly, slowly chipping away at your resolve to stay away from him.
The sound of rain pelting against your window is interrupted by frantic knocking on your door. You hesitate, knowing exactly who it is. But the desperate pleading and sobbing coming from the other side breaks your heart, and you find yourself opening the door to see Mingi completely drenched and shaking.
"Please... please let me in," he begs through his tears. "I can't take it anymore. I need to see you, to talk to you." His clothes are soaked through, clinging to his body as he stands there looking completely broken. The sight tugs at your heartstrings, and you step aside, allowing him to enter.
"Mingi, you shouldn't be here," you say softly, wrapping a towel around his shoulders. "You need to go home and get dry." He shakes his head, gripping the towel tightly. "No, I can't leave until we talk. I've tried everything else, but I can't stop thinking about you. Please, just listen to me." His eyes are red and puffy from crying, and he looks like he hasn't slept in days. "I made a mistake with the NDA," he confesses. "I never meant to hurt you or make you feel like a secret. You mean so much more to me than that."
"I know I messed up," Mingi continues, his voice cracking with emotion. "But being without you these past weeks has been torture. I can't eat, I can't sleep, I can't function without you." He takes a step closer, reaching out to touch your face. "I love you, Y/N. I love everything about you - your smile, your strength, your loyalty. I don't care about the scandal anymore, I just want to be with you openly." His wet clothes drip onto the floor as he stands before you, vulnerable and exposed. "Please give me another chance. I'll do anything to prove how much you mean to me."
"Mingi, I..." you start, your heart torn between your feelings and the pain he caused. "I can't just forget everything that happened. The lies, the secrets, the NDA..." He drops to his knees in front of you, looking up with desperate eyes. "I know, I know. And I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Just please, please tell me you still have feelings for me." His hands grip your waist tightly, as if afraid you'll disappear if he lets go. The rain continues pouring outside, creating a fitting backdrop for this emotional scene.
"I do still have feelings for you," you admit softly, running your fingers through his wet hair. "But that doesn't mean I trust you completely." Mingi nods, understanding in his eyes. "I'll earn your trust back. I'll show you every day that you can trust me with your heart." He rests his forehead against your stomach, his voice muffled against your clothes. "Just give me one more chance. One more chance to love you properly."
"Please let me kiss you," Mingi whispers, looking up at you with raw vulnerability. "Just once. Just to remind myself what it feels like to be close to you." His hands slide up your sides, resting gently on your hips as he waits for your response. The tension between you is palpable, the rain outside providing a rhythmic background to the moment. You hesitate for a moment longer, but something in his expression - the longing, the desperation, the genuine love - breaks down your defenses.
"Just one kiss," you whisper back, giving him permission with a slight nod. "And then we're talking about boundaries." Mingi stands up slowly, his hands still on your waist as he leans in. His lips brush against yours softly at first, almost hesitantly, as if afraid you'll change your mind. But once the kiss starts, it deepens quickly. The pent-up emotions from weeks apart explode between you, and Mingi pulls you closer against him, his hands gripping your back possessively.
The kiss becomes more passionate, fueled by months of suppressed desire and longing. Mingi's hands roam your body hungrily, reacquainting themselves with every curve. He pushes you against the wall, his body pressed firmly against yours as he devours your mouth with years of pent-up need. The rain outside creates a symphony of background noise to your passionate reunion.
"God, I've missed this," he murmurs against your lips, one hand sliding down to cup your thigh. "I've missed you." You respond by wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer as the kiss grows more heated. His fingers dig into your thighs, holding you up effortlessly.
The feeling of his body against yours is overwhelming, making you remember why you fell for him in the first place. Despite everything that happened, the chemistry between you is still electric. Mingi breaks the kiss to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. "I need you," he whispers against your skin, his voice hoarse with desire. "Please tell me you need me too."
"I do need you," you breathe out, tangling your fingers in his wet hair. "But we can't just pretend the past few weeks didn't happen." Mingi freezes at your words, his forehead pressed against your shoulder. "I know," he admits quietly. "But right now, all I want is to be with you. To feel you, to hold you, to make love to you."
His hands continue roaming your body, but with more tenderness now. "Let me show you how much you mean to me," he pleads softly. "Please." Mingi follows your gaze to the bedroom door, then looks back at you with a mix of hope and desire. Without another word, he carries you towards the bedroom, his strong arms supporting your weight.
Once inside, he sets you down gently on the bed and starts unbuttoning his wet shirt. "I need to get these clothes off," he says, his fingers trembling slightly. "They're soaked through." The sight of him undressing in front of you stirs something deep within you, and you watch as his muscular chest is revealed inch by inch.
"You're beautiful," you whisper, reaching out to help him remove his shirt. Your hands trace over his defined abs, the contact sending sparks through your fingertips. Mingi shivers at your touch, his breath catching in his throat. "No, you're the beautiful one," he murmurs, leaning down to kiss you again.
His bare skin presses against yours as he climbs onto the bed, his weight comforting and familiar. The rain continues outside, but inside this room, there's only heat and desire building between you. Mingi's lips move down your neck, across your collarbone, and to the exposed skin of your chest. His hands push your clothes up, revealing more of your skin to his hungry touch.
"I've dreamed about this every night," he confesses between kisses, his voice thick with emotion. "About touching you, tasting you, making you mine again." His fingers deftly undo the buttons of your shirt, sliding it off your shoulders. "You're perfect," he breathes out, his eyes dark with desire as he takes in the sight of your bare skin.
His lips follow the path of his hands, trailing hot kisses down your chest and stomach. "I want to worship every inch of you," he whispers against your skin. Mingi slowly strips you bare, his hands trembling slightly as he reveals your body. The heat in his gaze intensifies with each article of clothing that falls away.
"God, you're even more beautiful than I remembered," he says reverently, his fingers tracing patterns over your exposed skin. "I've missed every part of you." His lips follow his fingers, leaving a trail of kisses down your body as he positions himself between your legs. "Let me taste you," he murmurs, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. Mingi spreads your legs wider, his tongue tracing lazy circles on your inner thighs. Your body responds instantly to his touch, already aching with need.
"You're already so wet for me," he whispers, his hot breath fanning across your core. "So ready." Without warning, he buries his face between your thighs, his tongue delving deep into your folds. The feeling is overwhelming, making you arch up against his mouth as pleasure courses through your body.
"Mingi... oh god," you moan, threading your fingers through his hair as he devours you. His tongue works expertly, flicking over your clit in just the way he knows drives you wild. He groans against your flesh, the vibrations sending shivers through your entire body. "I could stay here forever," he murmurs, his hands gripping your thighs tightly. "Tasting you, feeling you come undone."
His pace increases, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your hips rock against his face, desperate for more friction. Mingi senses you getting close, his tongue moving faster and more insistently against your clit. His fingers dig into your thighs as he holds you in place, determined to make you fall apart.
"Come for me," he commands huskily, looking up at you with dark eyes. "Let go, Y/N. I want to feel you come on my tongue." The pressure builds inside you until it becomes too much, and with a loud cry, you shatter completely. Your body convulses against his mouth as waves of pleasure crash over you, leaving you trembling and breathless. Mingi guides you through your orgasm, prolonging it with gentle licks and kisses. When your body finally stops shaking, he crawls up your body, his eyes full of love and desire.
"You're amazing," he whispers, capturing your lips in a deep kiss so you can taste yourself on his tongue. "I've missed making you feel like that." His hard length presses against your thigh, reminding you that he's still half dressed. "Now it's my turn to feel good," he says with a smirk, reaching for his belt buckle. Mingi quickly removes his pants and boxers, revealing his thick, throbbing cock. He settles between your legs again, his bare skin pressing against yours.
"I need to be inside you," he growls against your ear, positioning himself at your entrance. "Need to feel you surrounding me." Without waiting for a response, he thrusts into you in one smooth motion, filling you completely. The sensation makes you gasp, and you cling to his shoulders as he starts moving.
"You're so tight," he groans, his hips snapping against yours with increasing intensity. "So perfect." Mingi sets a punishing pace, his hips slamming into yours with each thrust. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with your shared moans and whimpers.
"Fuck, I've missed this," he pants out, burying his face in your neck. "Missed feeling you tighten around me like this." He hits that perfect spot deep inside you, making stars explode behind your eyelids. His movements become more erratic as he nears his release, his control slipping.
"Harder," you beg, your nails digging into his back. "Fuck me harder, Mingi." He groans at your words, his pace becoming almost brutal as he obeys your command. "You're so demanding," he manages to say through gritted teeth, one hand sliding between your bodies to rub your clit.
"But I love it. I love how greedy you get for me." His thrusts become more forceful, each one sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. The room is filled with the sounds of your moans and the wet slapping of skin as Mingi pounds into you relentlessly. His fingers work magic on your clit, driving you closer and closer to another orgasm.
"I'm close," he warns, his voice strained. "Come with me, baby. Come with me again." He angles his hips to hit your g-spot perfectly, and the added stimulation is too much for you to handle. Your walls flutter around him as you scream his name, your second orgasm crashing over you like a wave.
Mingi follows right behind you, his cock pulsing as he empties himself deep inside you. He collapses on top of you, both of you breathing heavily and covered in sweat. Mingi nuzzles into your neck, still buried inside you as you both come down from your high. His heartbeat thunders against your chest, gradually slowing back to a normal pace.
"That was... incredible," he murmurs, pressing soft kisses along your jawline. "Better than I remembered." He shifts slightly to look at you, his expression soft and vulnerable. "I love you, Y/N. I'll never stop loving you."
His fingers trace lazy patterns on your skin as he holds you close, as if afraid this moment might end and take you away again. Mingi pulls back slightly, looking at you with serious eyes. "No more NDA," he says firmly. "No more secrets. I'm done hiding us from the world."
He cups your face in his hands, his thumbs stroking your cheeks. "I want everyone to know you're mine. I want to take you out, hold your hand, kiss you in public. All of it." His gaze is intense, filled with determination and love. "I don't care what anyone else thinks. You're worth it, Y/N. You're worth fighting for."
#kpop fanfic#kpop smut#ateez fanfic#thirteenheavens#ateez smut#mingi ateez smut#ateez mingi smut#mingi imagines#mingi ateez#ateez mingi#mingi x reader#mingi smut#song mingi#mingi fanfic#mingi#mingi hard hours#mingi hard thoughts#mingi atz#atz hard hours#atz mingi#ateez mingi fic#mingi atz smut#song mingi smut#Ateez#atz#ateez scenarios#ateez x reader
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Alright boys pack it up no more rain world posting new oni dlc is coming out in less than a week
#rat rambles#oni posting#rain posting#I jest I will probably still be posing some rain world stuff if I get around to designing more guys#but I can already feel the oni brain coming back and am half tempted to do one last comb through the files even tho I know itll be#pointless because the full dlc will be at my fingertips very soon#to be clear I 100% will be combing through the data of the full release too but thats a given#calvin my boy pls make it in pls don't get scrapped pls my boy#oh now that we're getting close Im gonna let myself talk abt this just this once but if you care abt potential spoilers stop reading#anyways so last I checked where the duplicant descriptions and stuff is stored there was an additional new duplicant named calvin#now I wasnt able to find anything else referencing him from my admittedly not super deep digging but he was there#I did thoroughly look through the spritesheets tho and hes definitely not there from what I could yell#or at least he wasnt when I checked idk maybe they put him in during one of the patches for some reason#but yeah I hope he makes it in despite all the specific advertising of them adding one new duplicant#its actually these descriptors that have been making me not wanna talk abt calvin dupe too openly as if he does make it in its probably#going to be a pretty big spoiler for a bit?#ofc if he is a secret of sorts then he wont be for long but if he is meant to be a surprise I don't wanna scream on the rooftop abt it#but I do wanna have proof that I found him before hand it he is a surprise I need to feel cool and special for looking at one file <3#yknow what I think I actually am going to pop open oni and tripple check that I'm not missing anything#I was playing rw a lot to cope with the dlc not being fully out but at this point Ive finished every campaign except saints#and saints is being a buggy bastard for me rn and keeps repeatedly softlocking me so Im giving up on it for now#like just this morning I did the entirety of the hunter campaign in like 2 hours I have so little left to do#if I do decide to replay a campaign tho it's probably going to be either gourmands or spearmasters since theyre my favorites to play as#idc what anyone says Ill always preffer the spearmasters story to rivulets I adore them both but ppl do not appreciate spearmaster enough#like every person Ive seen play it sees the ending as disappointing and I wont stand for it its high-key my favorite ending#now thats entirely because Im a moon enjoyer and a tragedy enjoyer but still I will always lose my mind over moon's final message
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older!rafe loves to put his fingers in sensitive!readerâs mouth & her favorite place in the world is his lap...
c/w: rafe being mean & making her choke on his fingers, heavily suggestive, size kink, use of daddy & dad, 18+ mdni!
wc: 1.6k
in love w this man so more of him on the way xx
this is an additional part to this & u can read more here
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Rafe has had a bad day.  Â
She notices it immediately by the way he greets her with only a brief peck on her cheek; carelessly throwing his jacket on the couch before slumping down against the cushions and letting out a washed-out exhale.  Â
For the entirety of the week, gloomy clouds have painted over the dusty, colorless horizon and wet water puddles have saturated the socks of passing pedestrians and dog walkers alike. However, Rafe is not someone who particularly minds rainy days, which is why she assumes that the reason for his disgruntled mood has something to do with business, as it more often than not does.   Â
He scratches at the buzzed hair still slightly damp from the rain while she simply stands there and blinks; unsure whether he wishes to be alone or not.   Â
âWhat are you doinâ? Câmere,â he suddenly orders in a somewhat of a stern tone and she has no choice but to pad over to his sprawled-out legs, lowering to sit on top of him and letting him paw at her waist as his beefy arms pull her closer. And she can't really complain when the heat of his body seeps into her flesh in such a comforting way; makes her insides feel all fluffy and featherlight.  Â
In the same way that Rafe seems to enjoy her needing him to take care of her when everything feels like too much, she loves being there for him; likes to feel useful, needed.Â
âDo you wanna...talk about it?â the muted melody of her vocal cords reaches his ears as vivid raindrops pitter patter against the glass of the windows and he groans in exhaustion at how perfect she is for him.   Â
âNot really,â he dismisses her with a shake of his head. âHow was your day, hm?â  Â
âIt was uh, okay. I donât know, the usual. Had some boring lectures, almost fell asleepâŚquestioned every decision Iâve ever made,â she huffs out and settles her palms on his strong biceps. Â
âMm,â heâs only half listening; beginning to mindlessly twirl a strand of her hair around his index finger.   Â
And she takes that as her cue to continue blabbering out complete nonsense as she begins to grow slightly restless being this close to him. Truth be told, sheâs pathetically been missing him the whole day; the only thing granting her the motivation to go about her routines being the thought of seeing him at the end of it all. And now that heâs here, he seems frustrated; mind entirely elsewhere and she doesnât know what to do except ramble on and on about her dull day.   Â
Then, completely out of the blue, heâs grabbing her jaw into his massive hand and hushing her.  Â
âShut up for one second, yeah?â he mutters out before heâs tucking a thumb past her lips; a surprised squeak leaving the back of her throat at the sudden intrusion because he was the one who asked for her to talk in the first place.   Â
However, she canât exactly say that itâs unexpected. He often gets a tad bit meaner whenever heâs had a dreary workday and takes it out on her in some form or another. And regardless of how unhealthy all of it might seem, thereâs a crooked part of her brain that yearns for it; wants him to come to her whenever heâs upset. If sheâs utterly honest, the thought of him searching for solace in anyone else makes nausea creep up her bones.  Â
For some reason, the firm pad of his thumb making her tongue feel heavy in her mouth placates her; turns her brain into a needy, dingy muddle in a way that only Rafe is capable of.  Â
âShit, just needed somethinâ to suck on, huh?â he pushes down on her tongue, making her swallow around the digit with a whimper.   Â
âSo fuckinâ pathetic sometimes, you know? Just take anythinâ daddy gives you,â a low-pitched chuckle thunders from his chest, seemingly amused by the ease in which she gives into him.   Â
However, thereâs also something gooey, syrupy beginning to whirl in the pit of her tummy. It reminds her of the countless times she was perched on the park swing as a little girl during the balmy summers of her childhood; thinking she could reach the fluffy clouds with the tips of her sneakers if only she could fly a little higher.   Â
âFeels nice to have somethinâ in your mouth, doesnât it?â he ogles her, mesmerized with intrigue twinkling in the Carolina blue that has always made her think of the sky.   Â
She lets out a faint moan when he drags the digit out and then back in, making her gag around it; her hips involuntarily rutting against the growing bulge straining against the zipper of his pants, desperate for some sort of friction if even through the soft material of her sweatpants.   Â
âDidnât give you permission to move, did I?â he feigns confusion with a furrow of his brows that gets her to reluctantly halt her shifting.   Â
âDaddy, need your...â her words are cushioned against the obstacle heâs planted between her teeth. Â
âCanât really hear you, baby,â he mocks before heâs pulling the thumb out of her mouth altogether.   Â
However, the next thing she knows, heâs stuffing in his index and middle finger both at the same time. They reach far deeper; a muffled sound of gagging following his actions as he seems to discover a perverted sense of satisfaction from her struggle.  Â
"What did you say?" his lips twist into a cruel smirk when she whimpers pitifully and tries to draw away from him in order to catch her breath but his other hand only grips her jaw tighter, keeping her exactly where he wants as sheâs forced to breathe through her nose.   Â
âI think you can take it for a bit longer, yeah?â his teeth sink into his bottom lip as he simply stares, seemingly absorbed into the obscene scene before him.   Â
And she should feel embarrassed, demeaned even. And she does! However, the humiliation of letting him do whatever he wants as if sheâs nothing but a cheap toy for his entertainment blurs over the lines when her cunt throbs in response to his degrading attention. She flutters uselessly around nothing; powerlessly begging for some sort of alleviation with a whine that merely earns her a tut of his tongue.   Â
Therefore, the only thing she can do is sit there like an obedient animal because heâs already scolded her once. She hasnât turned entirely dumb just yet; knows firsthand how âdaddy doesnât like to repeat himselfâ and that the next time she misbehaves will result in a punishment her poor cunt probably wouldnât be able to handle in this helpless state of hers.  Â
âDon't think you could take dadâs cock even halfway in this pretty mouth,â he mindlessly croons, thumb smoothing over the skin of her throat as she swallows the spit beginning to dribble down her chin.   Â
The thought manages to pique her curiosity because his cock has been at the forefront of her mind for a couple of weeks now, due to him constantly teasing her with the notion of letting her suck him off properly. He keeps murmuring about training her throat and fucking it raw but never actually doing it; merely allowing for her to drool and mouth over the tip because apparently, she's 'not ready yet'.   Â
Sheâs beginning to turn into something desperate because whenever she tries to take more of him into her mouth, he stops her with a click of his tongue and big hands lifting her head off him. âDonât be greedy now, sweetheart,â heâd scold her but she's certain sheâs going to die if she doesnât get to feel his cock nudge at the back of her throat soon.   Â
âRayâŚâ she tries to fruitlessly speak but heâs not exactly making it easy as he keeps stroking against her tongue. However, she doesnât need to say anything. He knows what she wants. Â
âI mean, can barely fit into this tight cunt, donât know why you keep whininâ about wantinâ me in this mouth so bad. Donât think youâd even enjoy it that much. Itâs a lot, you know?â thereâs something almost patronizing in the way heâs speaking to her as if heâs not the one who brought the idea up in the first place.  Â
Itâs like heâs trying to talk her out of it yet his fingertips keep prodding past her gag reflex every few minutes, almost as if testing the waters before plunging in and itâs making her head spin.   Â
She whines and tries to defend herself but the digits fussing with the inside of her slobbery mouth donât allow for her to form anything audible as she begins to grow troubled.  Â
âWhat was that?â the line of his mouth curls when he pokes deeper once more, causing her to moan with watery eyes pleading him for anything at this point.   Â
âSuch a dirty girl. Bet youâd like choking on my cock, huh?â he grunts and she hums in response; nodding fervently before heâs finally withdrawing his hand and smearing the spit-stained fingers against her pouty lips.  Â
Theyâre both panting heavily as he gently swipes at her under-eyes in order to catch the teardrops ready to trickle down before petting at the apples of her cheeks with a tenderness reserved only for her. Â
âShit, always know how to make me feel better, donât ya?â he rumbles fondly against her mouth; following his saccharine words with a messy kiss soon after. Maybe heâll finally allow her to have what she so badly craves.Â
#I think he could cure me#my love for older men is unhealthy#but im just a girl#this was supposed to be v short but had too much to say ig#older!rafe#rafe cameron#rafe imagine#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe smut#rafe x reader#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron obx#older!rafe cameron#drew starkey#obx smut#obx fic#obx#obx fanfiction#outer banks#outer banks fanfiction#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron blurb#sensitive!reader
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Bug like angel
You're here, that's the thing
You woke up the next day.
You were on the fancy velvet family couch you were never allowed on.
The couch was where every movie night, every game night, and every family hangout would happen.
The same ones you'd never be invited to.
You looked up to see Bruce and Miguel sitting in the pristine, white dining room arguing over something.
They lowkey looked like a divorced couple fighting over the ustody of their child.
You let out a giggle at that thought.
You got up and tried to stabilize yourself, still healing from the stab wound from yesterday.
You had a runny nose and a slight sore throat from the rain yesterday.
You hated your spidey luck sometimes.
As you got closer to Miguel and Bruce, you could make out some of their argument.
"She's staying with us, it's for the best," Bruce said, crossing his arms.
"Since when do you decide what's good for her?" Miguel argued, standing up from the seat he was sitting on.
"I am her father. I decide what's best for her," Bruce said, still keeping a straight face.
"you haven't been a father to her at all." Bruce flinched slightly at Miguel's words.
Miguel continued, "You were never her father. You were nothing but a sperm donor." Miguel put his hand on his hips, his bold red eyes piercing into Bruce's blue ones.
"When were you when she needed you? Where were you on her birthday? Where were you at her performances and concerts? You don't know anything about her." Miguel slammed the table in front of him, and Bruce's neutral facade faltered.
"I am still her father. we are blood." Bruce raised his voice.
"The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb."
Miguel and Bruce were now full-on arguing.
A full-on screaming match.
You decided to intervene, you just wanted to go home.
"What's going on?" They both couldn't hear you, and you saw Miguel about to flip the expensive dining room table.
You weren't against him breaking anything Bruce owned, but that table cost way more than Miguel could afford.
You ran up to him "Hold on a minute, please won't you listen?"
They both stopped to look at you.
Bruce spoke up "Are you doing better now, sweetie?" You cringed at the nickname he gave you.
"I'm fine. What's going on?"
There was a tense silence for a moment.
"C'mon, spit it out. I wanna go home." You put your hands on your hips, copying Miguel's stance
"You're going to stay with us," Bruce said, his piercing blue eyes glaring at Miguel.
"What?! You can't do that! Dad, tell him he can't do that!" you pulled on Miguel's sleeve like a tall child
Miguel looked and you and looked away guiltily.
"Dad? What's going on? Tell him he can't force me to stay!" You were tearing up.
You didn't want to stay.
You didn't want to be back where everything went wrong.
You didn't want to see everyone play happy family while you sat in a corner sobbing.
"I'm sorry, but you're 16 and can't legally stay with me. I'm so sorry, araĂąanita." you tried to suppress your tears, only for them to all spill out when he hugged you.
You felt like a child.
"This isn't fair." your lip slightly trembled.
Bruce put a hand on your shoulder which made you flinch and push his hand away.
"Don't touch me." you shrunk into Miguel's arm more.
You hated being here. You just wanted to go home.
"Can't we agree on something else? Like maybe one week each person, or something?" you tried to reason
Bruce raised an eyebrow "What do you mean?"
"I mean like, one week with with Miggy and another with you. Wouldn't that be easier?"
Miguel was about to agree with you when Bruce interrupted "No."
"Why not? Everyone would be happy!" You tried to reason
"Because I'm your father and that's final."
You rolled your eyes at that.
"What?! That's so not fair!"
"life isn't fair." Bruce started practically pushing Miguel out the door.
You started clinging onto Miguel by his leg, you didn't want him to leave.
It took your father and your brothers to separate you and Miguel.As soon as Miguel left, you
ignored your family's offerings to hang out with them.

You were in your room, still sulking about what happened.
You were texting your friends everything.
You heard a knock at the door and tried to ignore it.
You weren't in the mood to talk to any of them.
After a couple of minutes of knocking, Bruce got impatient and let himself in."Why didn't you open the door?"
"I didn't feel like getting up." You kept texting your friends, not even looking at him.
He took a seat on the edge of your bed. "Look, since you're already here, why not go out? We could go to that one, uh, museum you wanted to go to a while ago." You glared at him.
"I asked to go there years ago. My friends already took me there."
"Oh, is there any other place you'd like to go? or anything you'd like to do?"
"I want you to go away. I'm sick and you just pulled me away from my friends." You kept scrolling on your phone
Bruce sighed and left your room.

Next to annoy you was Dick.
You were in the kitchen trying to get a snack when you heard his agitating, grating voice.
"Hey, baby bird!" He was going to ruffle your hair, but you swiftly avoided it due to your spidey senses.
"Don't call me that." You continued to look for your favorite snack.
"Why not?" he playfully pouted
You started giving up hope on finding the snack, it wasn't anywhere! "Because I said so."
He saw you were struggling to find something. "What are you looking for?"
"Nunya." you crossed your arms and started looking in the fridge.
"look, if you're hungry, we can go to that one restaurant you wanted to go to! How does that sound?" he smiled.
"I asked for that years ago. I already went there with Miguel anyway." You walked away into your room not caring how dick was slightly frowning.

You were in your room fixing your belongings.
If you're going to be forced to live here up till you're 18, you might as well make everything look nice.
While you were organizing your closet, your spidey senses went off.
You turned around to see it was warning you about the door, and suddenly Jason barged in.
"Get ready, I'm gonna teach you how to ride a motorcycle."
"No thanks, Jess already taught me." You continued to fold the clothes
"Who's Jess?" Jason raised an eyebrow
"A friend. Look, can you just leave me alone? I want some alone time."
"I'm your older brother, you can't kick me out of your room." He crossed his arms.
"Except I can. Get out." You started pushing him out of your room, your strength surprising him.

Tim was in his room when he remembered about that one time you asked him if he could fix your computer.
You accidentally gave it a virus downloading Sims mods, and it was tweaking.
Tim was the most tech-savvy person you knew, so you asked him.
Unfortunately for you, he was working on a tiring case.
He was in a bad mood and half-asleep, so it wasn't a surprise when he yelled at you to go away.
Sure, it had been 2 years since then, but he still felt bad.
He made his way to your room, noticing how separated it was from the others.
When he got to your room and opened your door (you seriously need to get a lock) he saw you were face timing one of your friends and laughing.
He cleared his throat and your smile fell.
"I'll call you back later, bye Pavi!" you hung up and looked at Tim "What do you want?"
He smirked "Wow, so hostile. Do you still need me to fix your computer? I have time now.
"You rolled your eyes. "it's fine now, peni fixed it for me."
"Are you sure? I could probably add an upgrade or two, or maybe get you a new one?" He put his hand on his neck
"Yes I'm sure, you can leave now." You shooed him away with your hands and started calling Pavitr again.
Tim scoffed and walked away.

Last but not least, Damian.
He was always a headache.
Ever since you were younger, it's like he was out to get you.
He wouldn't ignore you or push you away like the others, instead, he would threaten and berate you.
No matter how much you tried, he'd always go out of his way to push you around.
You learned to stay out of his way.
You assumed he would still hate you, so you continued to avoid him.
It was surprising when he walked up to your room and demanded you to watch him train.
Not wanting to get stabbed by him, you begrudgingly agreed.
You were being escorted into the training room and saw a chance to practice your moves.
While he wasn't looking, you snuck away to practice your tricks.
It was the perfect place to do it as well, huge gymnastics area, rock climbing walls, and hurdles.
You were having the time of your life!
After around 10 minutes you noticed Damian looking for you, with Dick helping him.
You sighed and continued practicing.
Your way of swinging and moving was Heavily inspired by Gwen and Pavitr's, all the spider kids trained together so it wasn't much of a surprise.
After training for a couple more minutes, you noticed Dick and Damian had found you.
Dick was surprised you knew how to be that flexible and have a lot of movement and personality in your tricks.
As soon as you sat down to take a water break, Dick and Damian ran up to you.
"Where did you learn how to move like that? did you do gymnastics?" Dick sat down next to you, only for you to scoot away.
"No. I learned from Pavi." You took another sip of your water
"Was he the one who came to the manor last year? The punk?" He took a sip of his water
"No, that's Hobie." you got up and walked away, ignoring Dicks other questions.
Dick just sighed in defeat and watched as Damian ran after you.
Damian would not leave you alone.
The whole way to your room, he was complaining and berating you.You tried slamming your door in his face, but he fought back.
Suddenly you were trying to push him out of your room like the others and he pushed a bag of yours onto the floor.
After a couple of minutes of you both tumbling around, he finally left.
You let out a sigh of relief and went to pick up the bag.
Once you picked it up you noticed it felt a slight bit heavier, less empty.
You grabbed what was making it so heavy and noticed it was a watch.
The watch you needed to move universes.
Miguel must've snuck it in there while dropping you off.
You put it on, and right as you were about to go back to Miguel's universe, your spidey senses went off yet again.
You quickly turned off the watch and pretended you were playing on your phone again.
This time it was Alfred.
You assumed he was going to scold you for fighting Damian yet again.
You prepared yourself only to be met with something you didn't expect.
"The others are expecting your presence in the theater room."
Movie nights.
The same movie nights you longed to be a part of years ago.
This time, you didn't want to be part of it.
"No thanks, I'm busy." You continued to scroll on your phone.
"You must've misheard me. They're requiring your presence." Alfred walked away before you could argue.
You sighed and put on some slippers.
This was gonna be a long two years.

hi ik rhis chapter is sloppy and rushes BUT THIS TIME I ACTUALLY HAVE EN EXCUSE
i typed all od this at a wedding lmfao
yeah rheyre mareying the love of their life but im updating a fic so whos really winning
anyway
taglist(please lmk if i forgot you!): @bath1lda @mariadvorak @coralaura @tsxukikami @hjgdhghoe @coffeeaddictxd @cxcilla @kaitense1 @star-girl-interlud3 @sukaretto-n @welpthisisboring @itsberrydreemurstuff @lovebug-apple @crazycaoticsimp @bellethesleepypotato @blackhood1229 @jsprien213 @sirenetheblogger @awawage @holybatflapexpert @vanessa-boo @ryuushou @whiskeygirl7 @seemeee3 @inojinieeee @oliviaewl @djpuppy-kittens @w31rd3rg1rl @br33zy-blizzardz @eyeless-kun @strangelymid @twismare @cat-lover-over-9000 @jaemindontberude @galaxypurplerose @paastaboi @senhoritaapple @whiskeygirl7 @chezze-its
#spider bat!reader#batfam x neglected reader#batfam x reader#batfamily x reader#batsis#bruce wayne x daughter reader#neglected reader#platonic batfam#yandere batfam#batfamily x neglected reader#neglected batfam#neglected reader x batfamily#yandere batfam x neglected reader#bug like angel#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara#miguel spiderverse#miguel spiderman#miguel x reader#platonic batman#platonic yandere batfam#platonic#dc batfam#batfam x batsis#batfam x child reader#batfam x you#batfamily x batsis!reader#batman x reader#batsib#batsib!reader
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⥠Mini-Charles | CL16
NEFERASKINGDOM

Summary: Heâs used to fans, but something about this tiny one in Suzuka hits different, and Charles canât stop smiling. Mini-Charles 2026 pretty-please? you'd make such an amazing maman mon amour-

A/N: Chat I fear I cooked with this one. Mini-Charles literally made my ovaries almost burst, so I present thee with this little blurb.

CHARLES LECLERC MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST
One of the best parts about the Japanese Grand Prix was always the fan stage. Rain or shine, Suzuka fans showed up in full force, enthusiastic, respectful, and often wildly creative. Charles had seen all kinds of things over the yearsâhandmade banners, fans in full Ferrari suits, even one guy who brought a cardboard cutout of him as a saint to every single event. But this time, something, or rather someone, really stole the show.
It started when Charles was doing the fan Q&A alongside Lewis. He was mid-sentence, answering one fanâs question, when he noticed a flash of red near the front row. Not the usual Ferrari cap or flag, but something... smaller.
A child, maybe five or six years old, standing perfectly still with his hands on his hips in what could only be described as an exact replica of Charlesâ fireproofs. Down to the logos. Even the custom detailing on the sleeves. He was wearing a mini version of Charlesâ helmet tooâfull visor, the matte red and white colors perfectly matched. And the stance. God, he was standing exactly like Charles does when heâs focused in the garage.
Next to him were two girls around the same age. One was decked out in Maxâs navy fireproofs and helmet, and the other had gone all out in papaya orange, even painting freckles on her cheeks like Lando. But it was the little Charles clone that made him pause mid-answer.
He leaned slightly toward Lewis, nodding subtly toward the kid.
"You seeing this?"
Lewis squinted. Then grinned. "Mini-you? Yeah. That kid's got your whole aura going on."
Charles laughed softly, eyes still glued to the boy. "He stands like me. That's terrifying."
"He's probably got the hand gestures down too."
Charles kept glancing at him throughout the session. Every time he looked, mini-Charles was looking back up at him, visor slightly tilted, tiny hands on his hips like he was part of the team.
It didnât take long before a Ferrari PR staffer approached the boyâs guardian and arranged for them to come into the garage. Word traveled fast, and before Charles had even finished his media rounds, he heard, "Little Leclerc's in the garage!"
The name stuck immediately.
She found Charles in the Ferrari hospitality area a few minutes later, practically bouncing as he pulled her by the hand.
"You need to come see this kid. I swear to God, itâs like someone shrunk me."
She raised an eyebrow. "They cloned you in Japan?"
âI just wanna see him up close,â he said, glancing back at her with the giddiest grin. âHe had the little visor, chĂŠrie. The visor! And the gloves. Like mine! And he even did the pose. Did you see that?â
She laughed. âYeah, I saw. Youâve been smiling like an idiot ever since.â
He didnât even deny it. âI love him. Heâs my favorite person here.â
By the time they reached the garage, mini-Charles was standing between two engineers, who were enthusiastically showing him how the pit boards worked. His fireproofs were real. High-quality replicas down to the seams, probably custom-made. Even his boots had the little CL16 logo printed on them. He was soaking it all in with this quiet, intense focus that looked way too familiar.
Charles crouched down and called softly, "Hey, champion."
The boy turned instantly, visor flipped up to reveal a round face and wide brown eyes. He didnât speakâjust lit up with a shy grin and ran the last few steps into Charlesâ waiting arms.
Charles caught him effortlessly and stood, the kid now perched on his hip like it was the most natural thing in the world. His tiny gloves clutched the front of Charlesâ polo, and the smile Charles gave him was soft, full of awe.
"You see this?" he asked her quietly. "I mean, come on. Look at the gloves. The detail. Heâs even got the sponsor patches."
She stepped closer, smiling as she took in the sight of the boy.
"Heâs better dressed than you."
Charles crouched beside him. âTu es magnifique. You look better in my suit than I do.â
The boy just stared up at him in awe. âYouâre my favorite driver.â
Charles clutched his chest, looking like he was about to melt into a puddle any second. âMon coeur. Iâm done for. You are adorable.â
They took photosâa lot of them. With the engineers, the mechanics, even Fred Vasseur came over to see what all the fuss was about and ended up holding the boy for a photo. The engineers joined in. The boy was passed around the garage like a VIP guest, posing with everyone, giving high-fives, and pretending to check tire pressures with an air of serious professionalism.
She stood nearby, arms crossed loosely, watching Charles with a fond smile that she didnât even try to hide. He was fully enchanted. There was a softness in the way he bent to talk to the boy, the way he smoothed the kidâs hair when it stuck out from the helmet. She hadnât seen that side of him in a whileânot since their last trip to her home when he spent a whole afternoon playing pretend race car with her nephew in the living room.
Then Charles was waving her over, grinning. âCome on, chĂŠrie. You have to be in the photo too.â
âIâm not in uniform,â she said, gesturing to herself.
âBut youâre part of the team,â he insisted. âWe need a proper photo. Mini-Leclerc needs his whole crew.â
The three of them posed togetherâCharles, her, and the tiny version of him in the middle, clutching the helmet proudly.
"Smile!" someone called. "We need a nice family photo of the Leclercs!"
She froze slightly at the comment, but Charles just grinned, looking between her and the boy with a soft, far-off, dreamy expression. He didnât correct them. Didnât even blink.
After the photos, someone jokingly put mini-Charles on the scale, and the number made Charles nearly choke.
"Sixteen point sixteen kilos? Are you kidding me? Thatâs... thatâs my number! Twice!"
He was laughing, absolutely delighted, holding the boyâs hand as the mechanics lost it behind him.
Later that night, back in the hotel, he was still grinning.
"Did you see how he stood by the car? Like he was about to jump in and drive it. I swear, it was like watching a tiny version of myself."
She sat on the bed, watching as he opened his phone and showed her photos from earlier. "Look at this one. Look how heâs holding my visor like itâs sacred. This kid gets it."
"You were smitten."
"Can you blame me? I mean... that could be our actual little Leclerc one day."
She looked up slowly. "Oh, weâve moved on from 'mini-me' to actual mini Leclerc now?"
He leaned into her side with a sigh. âHe was perfect. Did you see how serious he looked when I let him sit in the simulator? Like a little pro.â
She smiled. âYouâre obsessed.â
âI am,â he admitted easily. âI want one.â
She blinked. âA simulator?â
âA Mini-Me. Like⌠a real one. Ours.â
She raised an eyebrow. âYou want a kid now?â
He nodded slowly. âI didnât, like, wake up thinking that. But then I saw him, andâmon dieuâhe looked exactly like me. It was so weird. And he had the little gloves and the fireproofs. I swear, he had the same little fold in the elbow. I didnât know kids could look that cool.â
She laughed. âCharles.â
âIâm serious,â he said. âI already found a onesie online. Look.â
He pulled up his phone and showed her a Ferrari red baby onesie with a tiny number 16 on the back.
âStop.â
âThereâs a mini balaclava too,â he said, completely ignoring her tone. âAnd lookâthis one has a hood shaped like a helmet. Isnât that cute? I mean, come on. This baby looks ready for a race.â
âCharles. You're literally in the middle of a championship fight. You donât sleep enough as it is. Not to mention you travel all year. When would you even see this baby?â
ââIâd make time obviously.â
âAnd babies cry. And donât sleep. And poop. A lot.â
âI can handle poop.â
She stared. âThatâs your strongest argument?â
âNo, my strongest argument is that I would make an amazing dad,â he said proudly. âI would be so fun. Like, Iâd teach them how to race little go-karts and read them bedtime stories in three languages. And make the best sandwiches for school lunches. And if they wanted to wear their race suit to preschool, Iâd let them.â
She bit her lip to hold back a laugh. âMax is having a baby,â he added after a pause.
âOh no. Youâre not doing this.â
âWhy not? Iâm just saying. Max is having a baby.â
âAnd?â
âSo why canât we?â
âCharles, this isnât a competition.â
He pouted. âItâs not not a competition.â
âUnbelievable.â
He sighed and slumped against her, his fingers drawing aimless shapes on her arm. âYouâd be such a good maman. Youâre warm and patient and you already take care of me and Leo. Itâd be easy.â
âCharles Leo is a dog. Youâre talking about an actual real life baby here!â
âIâm not saying now now,â he said quickly. âJust⌠soonish. Ish. Iâm just planting the idea. Watering the seed. Like a gardener.â
She rolled her eyes. âCan the gardener sleep now?â
He grinned. âCan I fall asleep while showing you just one more video? Itâs this baby in a chef outfit trying to flip pancakes and he throws them on the dog.â
She groaned. âBed. Now. Itâs not the right time for this conversation.â
He followed her into bed, still murmuring about Mini-Charles and tiny helmets and kids in the paddock.
As she lay down, he slid in beside her, wrapping an arm around her waist. "What if I just... keep showing you baby videos until it becomes the right time?"
"Thatâs not how this works."
"I found one earlier of a baby eating spaghetti for the first time and just losing it. It reminded me of you."
"Charles No."
"Or the one with the baby who keeps saying 'no' to everything? That oneâs also very familiar."
"Go to sleep."
âIâd call him Jules,â he whispered against her neck. âIf itâs a boy.â
âGo to sleep, Charles.â
He pouted into her shoulder. âFine. But at least think about it. Just saying, Little Leclerc has a nice ring to it."
She turned off the bedside lamp and rolled back towards him, burying her face in his chest. "Sleep now. Babies later."
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and sighed.
"Fine. But just you wait. One day, Iâm putting that onesie in my shopping cart."
And she couldnât help but smile.
Because if today had shown her anything, it was that Charles Leclerc would make a very cute dad. Just... maybe not this season.
âBonne nuit, future maman.â
âStop!â
He grinned against her shoulder and didnât say another word. But she could feel the way his fingers gently traced circles over her stomach, and she didnât stop him.
Maybe one day. Just not today.

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I love the mail order bride !! Can we see her trying to get a job or school something and Simon getting offending thinking he doesnât have enough to support her ??
mail-order bride
he would not be offended if you wanted to do something for yourself; but he would be offended if you felt you were required to.
you pick up your blazer out of the closet, fitting it over your shoulders and buttoning it. you check your hair and your makeup one more time in the mirror before making your way into the living room, where simon still is, tools laid out at his feet as he uses a level and a pencil on the wall.
you clear your throat, knocking on the doorway gently.
"s-simon?" you ask gently. he grunts in response, marking a place on the wall, and you shuffle on your feet as you try to calm your stuttering breath. "i...can i ask for a favor?"
"can ask me for anythin'."
you purse your lips, "uhm...i need a ride."
"where ya wanna go?"
you play with your hands, rocking back and forth on your heels. he's still facing the wall, dark sleeves rolled up as he lifts a wooden block to the wall and starts to mount it there. he's putting up floating shelves you think, but the block of wood is very short in length. odd.
"i...have a job interview," you say softly. "it's in a half an hour. i...have to leave now to be on time. i'm..." you close your eyes, flinching. "i'm sorry, they only just called me, i-i should've given you more time--"
"why are you apologizin'?" he asks, setting his things down. he turns around to face you, and you open your eyes again, biting your lip. he comes closer, making you look up at him, and he narrows his eyes at you. "just said they only just called ya. so 's not y'r fault."
you open your mouth to say something, but he just brushes past you to head towards the door, grabbing his rain jacket and slipping it on. he flips the hood up over him after he shrugs his balaclava on, and he meets your eyes where you stand there oogling at him.
"well?" he raises a brow. "get y'r shoes on."
you scramble to go slip your boots on, picking up your purse by the door. simon opens the front door, revealing the misty rainy weather that's emerged since the morning. simon opens up an umbrella, making his way down the steps, and you follow him. he stops you before you come down, holding his hand out, and when he gets to the bottom of the steps, he holds his hand out for you.
you take his hand gently and let him guide you down the steps, and you're startled when he appears at the passenger side door of his truck. he holds the umbrella over you, opening the door for you, and he holds your hand again as you get settled before he shuts it behind you.
the drive is quiet. the rain falls hard, but simon is unbothered. you clutch the seatbelt a little bit as he drives--you don't want to be ungrateful, but simon sometimes makes a turn too sharp and brakes a little too hard. he sometimes has a hard time staying in his lane, too, but you just squeak and try not to be too loud when he swerves into a parking space crooked at a 45-degree angle.
simon opens the door for you, holding the umbrella and taking your hand again to help you onto the pavement. he walks you to the door, humming lowly, and he tilts his head to the side as you open the door.
"'ow long will y'be?" he asks, and you shrug.
"i-i don't know. maybe an hour?"
simon huffs a little, "olright. y'call me when y'r done."
you nod, about to go in, and he stops you again, big hand on your elbow.
"just..." he sighs deeply, looking anywhere but into your eyes. "good luck."
simon doesn't leave. he sits in his truck in the parking lot, eyes narrowed at the door of the building you just went inside of. his leg bounces underneath him, and he doesn't turn the car on for the heater because the bite of the cold, rainy weather keeps him awake and alert.
it's been over an hour. his phone sits on the dashboard, silent. he's not a patient man, never has been. his patience certainly has been tested with that fucking gremlin you insist on keeping around, the pocket of fur that drinks out of his water glass when he isn't looking and must nibble on his herbs in the kitchen (he can't prove it, but there's teeth mark tears in the basil leaves, the little shit). but this is somehow worse. he doesn't know why you want to get a job. he's been thinking about it while you've been gone.
maybe he hasn't made you feel secure enough. maybe you still feel like a stranger in your own house. maybe you still don't trust him yet, so you're too afraid to ask him for anything.
his phone starts to ring. he picks it up immediately, putting it to his ear.
"'ello?"
"s-simon?" it's you, of course, soft voice a little shaky. "i-i'm...can you pick me up now?"
"'m outside. i'll come get ya."
he practically rips open the door, and you're already standing there, coming out. he stops you before you start walking, making sure you're underneath the umbrella before you start to walk again. you keep your head down, and he doesn't even get a glimpse of you as he opens the door for you again and helps you up and into your seat.
as he pulls back onto the road, he barely hears the sound of your tears over the rumble of the engine. he looks over at you, frowning when he sees your hands covering your face and your shoulders shaking lightly.
he growls under his breath, not even turning on his blinker as he pulls over onto the side of the road. there's a honk sounding as other cars pass, but simon just turns to face you.
"oi, why are y'cryin'?" he asks firmly. you don't respond. you keep your face hidden, your body turned away, and simon huffs.
"oi!" he startles you with his loud voice, and your hands fall into your lap. "wot the fuck happened?"
"i didn't get t-the job," you hiccup. "i-it went...it was h-horrible. he hated my...m-my resume. the questions...i-i took too long t-to answer them, and i-i could tell...i could t-tell he h-hated me--"
"so you didn't get the bloody job," simon shrugs. "come off it. there'll be others."
"i-i don't even wanna do this!" you cry, wiping your face. your mascara is running, and simon sighs, frustrated.
"then why are you?"
"i...i-i--"
"look at me," he tells you, and your eyes meet his finally. your face is puffed and messy, wet streaks along your cheeks and eyeliner smudged along your eyes. "y'can do woteva y'want. anythin'. 'f you want t'stay home, then ya stay home. 'f y'wanna go t'work, then y'go to work." he reaches over and grips your face in one big hand, cupping your jaw and forcing you to lean closer to him. you can feel his breaths through the mask, warm and anxious. "don't worry about me. now tell me y'understand."
your lip wobbles, but you nod anyways.
"i-i understand."
your eyes close when you both lean in closer, and the mouth of his mask brushes against yours. you stay that way for a few long moments, lips brushing together, and when he pulls away to get back on the road, you notice his hand has fallen to rest on your thigh.
you put your hand over his gently, and by the time he pulls into the garage, your tears have dried, and your anxiety has dissolved.
when you emerge from your warm shower, there's an envelope by your purse. simon is in the kitchen, busying himself with dinner, and you pick up the envelope and rip it open. when you unravel the paper, there's a new credit card taped to it, with your name on it.
there's movement out of the corner of your eye, and when you look up, you realize simon had finished putting the little shelves up on the wall.
you can't hold back your smile, watching as the cat jumps from one shelf to the other. the cat follows the ascending and descending blocks of wood, all the way around the room until they curl up on their favorite spot on the couch, right inside the throw blanket that has been curled into a neat ball just for them.
you slip the credit card into your purse. when you pass by simon in the kitchen, you put a hand around his bicep and coax him to bend low, giving his cheek a kiss.
does he know he's not wearing his mask anymore?
his ears get red when he blushes.
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost mw2#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost mwii#ghost x reader#cod#call of duty#simon thoughts#order up
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⥠ring pops, chocolates, proposals ! âĄ
katsuki loves you throughout the years.
a/n : BOOM !! surprise extra on your foreheads !!! this is basically a lil extra to rpp from katsu n readers pov ! i thought it was cute n i hope yall enjoy it too <33 !! much luv xx
fem reader, slight anime n manga spoilers ! food (candy and chocolate), jealous katsuki, mentions of dicks bc katsuki calls someone one, katsuki n reader are in their 20s, reader loves rain, katsuki does not, proposal, kissinggg, reader likes romance (implied sligthly), katsuki does not (kinda), soft n emotional katsuki bc I LOVE HIM FIGHT MEEE!!! RAAHHH!!!, short n sweet, proposal, lmk if i missed sum else !! <33
"for you."
katsuki, age 6 stands in front of you. no more words are said from him as he looks off to the side, beet red face turned away from you with outstretched hands. and clutched tightly in his hands, a ring pop in your favourite color.
you beam, immediately taking it from him. "thank you, katsu !" you chirp, quickly popping the candy into your mouth. katsuki's shoulders relax when he sees you've taken the offering from him although he doesn't meet your eye fully just yet.
"do you wanna share ?" you ask sweetly, already reaching out your candy towards him seeing that he didn't have one of his one in hand. he furiously shakes his head, pushing your hand back towards you.
"no ! and this one's for you ! i already got one.." he insists, shoveling around in his backpack before the crinkle of a wrapper grabs both of your attention. he pulls out the bag of sweet ring pops and picks out an orange one for himself. showing it to you while his eyes drift away from yours. you smile, seeing that you can both eat candy together now.
"i-it's a ring. so..you're my wife," he states. your big eyes widen at him and his glowing red cheeks. you look back down at the candy you've been eating pressed around your finger. it's bigger than the rings you see on tv.
you like katsuki. he was a little rough sometimes, and he could be a little mean. but he always played with you and shared his coloured pencils. he'd sit in the reading corner with you and hold your hand when you'd go on field trips.
"oh, really ?" your face heats, he nods. "want you to be my wife, cus haruto's always lookin' at you..a-an' you're my friend. not his." he mumbles bitterly. you like haruto, he's nice to you, but not as much as katsuki. katsuki was your best friend.
"does that make you my husband then ?" katsuki gets red to the tips of his ears and his nose is practically pressed into the collar of his shirt but he nods anyways. you beam again, the taste of the flavoured candy still on your lips. " i like that !"
katsuki blinks at you, chubby little cheeks pulling into a smirk and he drops to sit down next to you roughly on the grass. finally popping his own ring in his mouth.
"then you're my wife, yeah ?" you nod and he grins, you hear the candy clack around his mouth. "means you're only ever gonna be with me." and you nod again happily because you like that, you like the thought of only being with katsuki, because he's your best friend ever.
"mhm !"
"..forever." he adds tentatively and when you nod again he snickers to himself.
wait till stupid deku hears about this.
valentine's day was fucking stupid. and white day was even stupider.
besides them being the corniest holidays ever, katsuki finds the whole concept stupid. why do you need an entire day just to grow the balls to tell someone you like them ? and the worst part is that some fuckers have the audacity to try that shit with you.
katsuki remembers when he'd started despising the stupid holidays. it was in his first year of middle school and you opened up your locker to see some chocolates and a hand written note.
it was cheesy. and fucking stupid. but you smiled about it.
you fucking liked it.
the bastard even had the nerve to walk up to you at the end of the day, when you're supposed to go home with katsuki and end up coming over to his house to do your homework together (so he could stare at you) then stay over for dinner and play some video games (so he could touch you, poke your sides to make you trip up and pinch your nose when you end up losing to him) or watch a movie (so he could hear you laugh)
you were supposed to be all his. but instead you reassure him that you'll be back in a second.
and katsuki's antsy and so annoyed his skin prickles, but he swallows it down and drags his feet towards the gates as he waits, like hell he'll leave you alone with some limp dick bastard.
he did feel better when you said you rejected the loser, and he felt much better when you still ended up spending the afternoon with him. but he couldn't stop thinking about it.
valentine's day and such was so fucking stupid in katsuki's eyes. but maybe you liked it ? you never cared much for romance outside of those stupid rom-coms you like, but maybe there was more to it.
katsuki couldn't admit it to himself then, but he hates the holidays because there's a whole day for him to grow some balls and ask you out. and yet he couldn't fucking do it.
until his first year at u.a. and you hand him a box of chocolates.
dark chocolate, you specified. "since i know you don't really like sweets all that much." you said. the slight tremble in your voice made him swallow harshly. it felt different than the chocolates you'd handed out to your classmates earlier (which he was absolutely not jealous about. at all.) and the sheer size of the box compared to the little baggies you'd handed spoke too.
these were different. these were just for him.
his bag feels extra heavy when he walks home that day, and he's never loved chocolate more than the day you'd made some just for him.
"the chocolates weren't bad." was all he'd texted you (he wasn't sure he'd be able to talk to you properly on the phone that day lest you heard the shakiness in his voice.) but he knew what he needed to do.
and a few months later, white day rolls around and katsuki still thinks it sucks. it's a stupid holiday. but he spent the entire day making these stupid holiday chocolates for you. and his ears burn when he tells you that he only made these for you, because you're the only one he cares about enough to make some stupid chocolates for on a holiday he hates.
and you smile, so bright and pretty and so you. and katsuki feels like he's on top of the world when you shyly kiss his cheek, your hand in his grip on your way home.
he guessed he'll have to tell his mom about this..and maybe think about thanking her.
the day katsuki plans to propose to you, it rains.
and not even regular rain, a fucking downpour.
and due to prior experiences and feelings heâs had since childhood, he fucking hates rain.
but you love it. when you were kids you loved jumping in puddles and during morning time, you were drowsier and more prone to falling asleep when it was raining. when you got older, you'd always gasp happily when it started to rain, even though katsuki scoffed every time you did, mean mugging the window. he'd asked you what you liked about rain every year you were together, because it was cold, it made the ground sloshy and slippery and it made his quirk basically obsolete when he was younger and harder to use the older he got. there was absolutely nothing fun about that. and you'd always tell him the same exact thing.
"i like it 'cus i just do." you'd respond simply. he always raised a brow at you, but let it be. he couldn't change your mind about it and that was it.
with his proposal plans down the gutter, you're cuddling bed. you yawn in his arms, the tapping against the window putting you at ease. katsuki can admit it's not ear grating, but he'd much rather it justânot rain at all. and he wishes that so much more now, stupid fucking rain..ruining his fucking plans to fucking marry you..
"why do you like this shit so much ?" he asks you the question he's been asking you for years now as you lay against his warm chest. he doesn't mean to do it, only realising he's been asking you this practically all his life after the fact. and it makes him realise how long you've been together when you calmly respond the way you always have, cheekily smiling up at him.
you stick your tongue out at him "i like it 'cus i just do."
oh. fuck.
katsuki doesn't know exactly why that sets him off. maybe because the fact you've been together for two decades makes him emotional. maybe it's because throughout all these years your answer hasn't changed and you haven't changed and your feelings haven't changed for him. you still smile up at him, you did when you were kids when he'd asked you to be his wife with those cheap ring pops he'd begged his mom to buy. you did in middle school even when he thought you had a crush on izuku for a while and it made him act in such an embarrassing way he doesn't want to remember it, but he does anyway. you smiled up at him when he'd asked you out with the chocolates he'd spend hours working on, making them perfect for you. and when he'd told you to just move in with him because "you're basically here all the time anyway."
you've always been there, and he's always loved you. since the day you'd mesmerised him so much at six years old he had to talk to his mom about you.
katsuki absolutely fucking hates rain, and he doubts that'll change anytime soon, and it ruined his perfect proposal. but he can't hear the rain in his ears anymore when he abruptly flips you onto your back to kiss you. all he hears in the tiny giggles you let out when he smacks three wet kisses onto your lips before diving in for a longer one. i love you, they say. he can only hear your fingers sneaking into his hair and scratching at his scalp and the happy sigh you let out when he runs his tongue across your lips.
"m'breath stinks," you mumble drowsily, katsuki grumbles, pulling away just far enough to tell you "i don't give a fuck." and diving in again. you squeal in surprise. it's all he hears.
"fuckin' love you." he grunts against your lips, you hum, briefly able to pull away to catch your breath to tell him you love him too, and pulling him closer to you, the rustling of your sheets, yours and his, is all he hears.
"yeah ? you love me ?" he whispers, going to nibble at your ear. he's all over you, pressing sloppy kisses along your neck and you giggle, "mhm, love you." you sigh.
"fuck.." he breathes again, bringing his face back up to yours he presses his forehead to yours "fuckâso," he places another kiss to your lips, he gulps "so marry me."
and then you blink at him "what ?" you breathe heavily, softly chuckling. and the rapid beating of his heart is all he hears, but then your eyes go glossy and you whisper, voice broken and wobbly "..what ?"
he huffs to himself, his hands search for yours and intertwine when he finds them. like the day he'd pulled you over to his mom so he could ask her to let you come over to play at his house. like when you'd offered it to him when he took you to prom and you looked more beautiful than he could ever utter. he wonders how you'd look during your wedding. he's thought about it more times than he can count.
he takes a deep breath, not pulling away "i wasn't supposed to tell you like this, fuckin rain.." he scoffs. "butâfuck, i justâyou've always been there, always been with me. since i was a snot nosed fuckin' brat and at times were you shoulda left my ass." he's forgotten the shit he wanted to say, simply blurting out what's on his mind. he feels a little bad, because kirishima had helped him with his speech, but his heart beats too hard to care.
"but m'glad you didn't. m'glad you didn't before and i'm glad you haven't now 'cus i love you so fuckin' much." you let out a giggle mixed with a little sob at his constant nervous cursing and it makes him smile lightly too.
"i know there are times where i've been a pretty shit boyfriend but..but i mean it, y'know ?" he sniffs a bit, and you shake your head "you've never been a shit boyfriend, suki. just a bit of a pain in my ass sometimes," you giggle but your eyes are overflowing with tears. he chuckles and fights back tears of his own with a sniffle again.
"yeah, major pain..but even still iâwhen i told you i wanted you to be my wife back when we were kids, i meant it. an' when that fuckin loser tried to ask you out on valentines day in middle school, i wanted to knock his fuckin' teeth in." he smirks, and you try to hide your laugh with a gasp "wanted to tell him you were mine."
"you're such a baby. i remember how pouty you were about it."
" i wasn't pouty," he rolls his eyes, his smile doesn't disappear. he wipes away a tear about to roll down your cheek before you can get his your shirt sleeve wetter then it already is "you could've just told me back then," you whisper, holding onto the hand on your cheek and pressing a kiss to his palm. katsuki feels his heart swell.
"i should've told you a lot of shit back then," he laments. he remembers when shigaraki put holes in him and the constant flashes of you on his mind. when he woke up in the hospital and you'd been there and he just couldn't tell you those three words. he'd figured that since you were both alive, he could tell you later when shit was less..messy.
except shit kept getting messier, and then when katsuki blew a hole into his heart he'd wished he could've told you how much he loved you.
but then he had gotten another chance, another chance to be with you. to be the best damn boyfriend in the world like he'd promised you he'd be, to make you happy, and he didn't care if shit got even messier, he didn't care to be scared. when he woke up with his mom and dad, a doctor and you. everything else blurred in his mind and despite your runny nose and your mix of how much you'd missed him and how worried you were but also scolding him on how much of a dummy he was, katsuki couldn't help but smile.
his mom still teases him about how the first words that he'd blurted out after waking up from his operation getting chastised by doctors were "fuck, i love you."
"but, i won't regret not telling you shit anymore. i won't wait any longer either," he kicks out of the sheets, reaching for the lowest drawer of his nightstand to pull out a little red box, grabbing you with him and placing you down right in front of him. he kneels down on one knee, like when he used to tie your shoelaces for you because you didn't know how to, and how he does to this day because 'you want to crack your head against the side walk so bad, but i don't wanna see that shit.'
he grabs your hand, and with a wobbly voice asks you "will you marry me ?"
and finally, katsuki stops hearing his own heart beat and hears the gentle tapping of the rain, still pouring, but it puts him slightly at ease when you nod and squeal out a 'yes !'
<33
#ring pop proposal miniseries#childhood friends to lovers w bkg u will always be famous#(to me at least)#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugo fluff#bakugou imagine#bakugou x reader#katsuki x reader#bakugou katsuki#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugou katuski x reader#bakugou fluffy#bakugou fluff#bakugo katsuki x reader#katsuki x you#katsuki x y/n#katsuki bakugo fluff#katsuki bakugo x you#katsuki bakugou x you#katsuki bakugou imagine#katsuki bakugou x female reader#bakugou drabble#bakugou x you
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the slip up l lando norris x reader
request/summary â lando and reader are in a secret established relationship, until lando accidentally slips up on stream
author's notes â first piece of writing, feedback appreciated!!! this is just my thoughts written down honestly, i didnât have much idea where i was going with it so enjoy.

Max was streaming with Lando at his place. Lando drags his feet over to the stream room, sitting on a chair next to Max. He was scrolling on his phone, trying to pass the time.Â
âMate, Iâm gonna leave, youâre being so boring,â Lando joked under his breath as he ran a hand through his hair.Â
âIâll make things more interesting then. Chat, wanna know something really interesting about Lando?â Max asked with a mischievous smile as he looked back at Lando. Lando watched with suspicion of what max could say next.Â
âLandoâs got a secret girlfriend,â Max sings to annoy Lando. Landoâs eyes shot up, his heart pounding as he turned off his phone, the same phone he was using to text you, his girlfriend. âI donât, chat, donât listen to him. Heâs just trying to piss me off,â Lando says as he shoots Max a glare.Â
âââââ
A few months later, everyone has chalked up that interaction to Max simply trying to annoy and rile up Lando, and no one thought much of it. On a miracle of a night in spring, Lando was in Monaco and decided to stream. He had a hoodie on, his hair all messy, but a smile on his face. About an hour into the stream, I knock on the door of his stream room quietly. Lando immediately turned off his video and mic, telling chat to give him a minute.Â
I walk in, a black slip dress on with a cropped white cardigan, my hair and makeup done all fancy. âHi, baby,â Lando says as he pulls me in by the waist, onto his lap. âGirls night tonight, right?â He says with a soft smile. He always makes sure to pay attention to anything Iâve mentioned to him, including my plans to hang out with Lily and Carmen tonight, Alex and Georgeâs girlfriends.Â
I hum in response. âYeah, weâre gonna get dinner and then take some Instagram photos,â I say as I stand up from his lap, âyou like the dress? Itâs new.â I give him a little twirl to show off the dress.Â
Lando smiles brightly. âI love it, baby, you look gorgeous. Like always,â he says as he leans in for a kiss. âText me when youâre done and need me to pick you up, yeah?â I nod and smile.Â
Once I leave, Lando puts his headset back on, turning his mic and camera back on. He scrunches up his face as heâs met by shouting from Max into his headset. âWhatâs your problem, man?â Lando asks with confusion. Max sighs. âLando, you had your mic on the whole time. People heard that whole conversation and I was trying to tell you but as always, you ignored me,â Max says with some frustration in his voice, but mostly amusement.Â
âOh,â Lando says as he realizes what has happened. Not knowing what to do, Lando panics and ends stream.Â
When my friends and I reach the restaurant, we find it pouring rain, which was the most of our worries since the restaurant was outdoor. With frowns, we all pile back into the car and drive ourselves home. I arrive home only twenty minutes after I left, my dress soaked. My brows furrow in confusion to see Lando on the couch on his phone when i come back, and not on stream.Â
I slip off my shoes. âI thought you were streaming?â I ask softly as I make my way over to him. âWhat happened to you? Youâre all soaked! Here, let me get you a towel and you can get dressed into some of my hoodie and sweats to get comfy,â Lando says, trying to avoid the fact that he had just live streamed his whole conversation with his girlfriend.Â
I saw the panic in Landoâs eyes. âStop,â I say as I stood in front of him, âwhat did you do?â Lando shoots me a bright grin. âI love you, babe. So so much. And you know Iâd do anything for you.â This made me even more suspicious. âLan,â I say as my eyes narrowed.
âOkay, okay. I might have forgotten to mute my mic when we were talking right before you left. I swear I thought I had turned it off!â He says as he panics before beginning to ramble. âAnd I called you baby, and gorgeous, and your voice was heard too. And Max was telling me the whole time through my headset, but it was off and even if it were on, you know I donât think about anything else when Iâm with you. And there were thousands of people on the stream and you specifically told me you wanted to keep it private because you didnât want to get hate crimed by the fans and you wouldnât be able to handle it and I mean, I wanted to but it just slipped and im so so sorry but-â He stops in confusion when a giggle escapes my lips. âWhy arenât you upset?â He asks slowly.
I smile as I slip my arms around his neck, his hands instinctively wrapping around my waist. âWell. Number one, youâre cute when you panic. Number two, no one saw me, so itâs okay. I mean, considering how in love you are with me, they were bound to find out at some point that you had a girlfriend,â I tease with a smile tugging at my lips.Â
He scoffs and rolls his eyes playfully at me. âOkay, yeah. I am absolutely in love with you. Still, youâre not bothered by this?â he asks slowly, hesitation lacing his voice.
âI promise Iâm not. It was a mistake. Plus, that just means itâs gonna be all the more fun trying to watch them figure out who it is youâre dating,â I say playfully with a giggle.Â
âThatâs true,â Lando says softly with a hum, âI love you.â
âI love you too. Although, donât make me have to have you on adult supervision every time you stream now to make sure nothing else slips out of your mouth,â I tease as I playfully poke his side.Â
âAh! Okay okay, promise,â he says with a giggle as he leans in for a gentle and loving kiss.
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Greatest treasure
Summary: Eris, newly crowned High Lord of Autumn, prepares for a grand ball while keeping his wife and their three-year-old son, Azer, a secret from the courts. During the event, Azer accidentally reveals his fire magic, causing panic and leading the Inner Circle to discover his existence. Meanwhile, Eris and Y/N, lost in their own world, share a passionate moment in the rain before returning to find their son distressed.
Warning: Contains alcohol, cursing, teasing, mentions of smut, kissing, court politics, mentions of war, distress.
Pairing: Eris Vanserra x reader
English is not my first language so I apologies for mistakes
Eris stands by the window of Azerâs nursery, the late-afternoon sun casting a warm golden glow over the room. The space is cozy, filled with soft autumn huesâdeep oranges, rich reds, and browns, like the leaves of the season his court embodies. Your three-year-old son, Azer, sits on the plush rug near his bed, his copper hair glinting like flames in the light. His amber eyes, so much like his fatherâs, are rimmed with unshed tears as he clutches a small wooden fox, one of his favourite toys.
âMama, Dada,â Azer says, his tiny voice trembling. âWhy canât I come? Wanna come, too!â
You kneel beside him, smoothing back a lock of his fiery hair. âOh, my little love,â you say gently, your heart breaking at the wobble in his voice. âThis ball is for grown-ups. You get to stay here and have fun with Miss Lyra tonight.â
âBut I wanna see,â he hiccups, his face crumpling as tears begin to fall. He tries to hold them back, but soon, soft sobs wrack his small body. âI wanna be with you, Mama. With Dada.â
Eris moves from the window, his regal presence as commanding as ever, though his sharp features soften as he crouches beside you. He reaches out, his long fingers tenderly brushing away Azerâs tears. âLittle firefox,â he murmurs, his voice rich and soothing, âI know youâre upset. But youâre my biggest treasure, and treasures like you need to be kept safe.â
Azer hiccups again, his small chest heaving as he shakes his head. âNot treasure. Azer!â he cries, his voice breaking. âWanna go with Mama and Dada!â
Eris chuckles softly, though his eyes glisten with emotion. âOh, you are most definitely Azer,â he says, his lips quirking into a smile. âBut youâre also my treasure. And treasures stay where theyâre safe. Do you understand, little firefox?â
Azer clings to your dress, burying his face against your leg, his tiny fingers fisting the fabric. His sobs quiet slightly, though his hiccups continue. âNo ball,â he mumbles, still unconvinced.
You exchange a glance with Eris, your heart aching at the sight of your sonâs distress. Eris leans forward, lifting Azer into his arms despite the toddlerâs reluctance to let go of you. âCome here, little one,â Eris says, his voice soft as he cradles Azer against his chest. âI know itâs hard, but I promise we wonât be gone forever. And while weâre away, youâll have a grand time with Miss Lyra. Sheâll tell you stories, maybe even about foxes.â
Azer sniffles, his arms wrapping tightly around Erisâs neck as he presses his tear-streaked face into his fatherâs shoulder. âDonât wanna,â he whispers, though his sobs are slowing.
A knock at the door signals Lyraâs arrival. The young fae woman steps inside, her kind smile unwavering even as she takes in the scene. âHello, Azer,â she says gently. âI hear weâre going to have an adventure tonight.â
Eris looks at her over Azerâs head, his expression unreadable but his tone laced with quiet authority. âGood luck,â he murmurs.
Lyra nods, her smile unwavering. âWeâll be just fine, my lord.â
Gently, Eris pulls Azer away from his shoulder, holding him so theyâre eye to eye. âBe good for Miss Lyra, little firefox,â he says softly. âWeâll be back before you know it.â
Azer sniffles but nods reluctantly, his small hand reaching out for you one last time. You kiss his forehead, murmuring reassurances before Eris passes him to Lyra.
As you and Eris leave the nursery, the sound of Azerâs soft hiccups follows you, tugging at your heart. Eris takes your hand in his, squeezing gently. âHeâll be fine,â he says, though you suspect heâs reassuring himself as much as you.
Eris strides down the corridor beside you, his hand resting lightly at the small of your back. The grandeur of the Autumn Court is on full display tonight, with servants bustling to and fro, preparing the grand hall for the event of the decade. Despite the meticulous perfection surrounding youâthe gleaming floors, the intricate floral arrangements of russet and goldâyou can feel the tension radiating off him like heat from a flame.
His jaw is set, his golden eyes narrowed in thought, and his long fingers occasionally twitch at his side, as though yearning for something to grip. You pause mid-step, turning to face him fully.
âEris,â you say softly, resting a hand on his chest. âWe still have two hours before the ball. Whatâs on your mind?â
He blinks down at you, momentarily startled, before his expression softens. Still, the strain remains etched in his features. âAll the High Lords and their families under one roof,â he murmurs, his voice low and thoughtful. âItâs an honour, but also a risk. Thereâs no telling what alliances may shift tonightâor what grievances may surface.â
You reach up, cupping his cheek, and he leans into your touch for just a moment, closing his eyes. âYouâve worked so hard for this, Eris,â you say, your voice steady and reassuring. âYour father ruled with fear, but youâve brought peace. Everyone will see that tonight.â
His lips twitch into a faint smile, though his eyes remain shadowed. âPeace is fragile,â he replies, his hand covering yours where it rests on his face. âOne misstep, one word out of place, and it can shatter.â
Before you can respond, the sound of hurried footsteps echoes down the corridor. You turn just in time to see Lucien rounding the corner, his auburn hair slightly dishevelled as though heâd been in a rush. His russet eye sparkles with mischief, but the golden mechanical one remains as stoic as ever.
âAh, there you are,â Lucien says, his tone light as he approaches. âAnd here I thought you might still be in the nursery with Azer. Poor kid looked ready to stage a rebellion when I passed by earlier.â
Eris snorts softly, though the tension in his shoulders eases ever so slightly. âHeâs not happy about missing tonight,â he admits, glancing toward the direction of the nursery.
Lucien raises a brow, his trademark smirk firmly in place. âWell, can you blame him? I wouldnât want to miss a chance to see all the High Lords bickering like children either.â
You laugh, and even Erisâs lips curve into a reluctant smile. âYou always know how to lighten the mood, Lucien,â you say, grateful for his timing.
Lucien winks at you, then looks back at his brother. âDonât let them get to you, Eris. This is your court now. Theyâre all just guests in your house.â
Eris inclines his head, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes. âWise words,â he says, his tone laced with amusement. âFor once.â
Lucien feigns offense, clutching his chest dramatically. âIâll pretend I didnât hear that,â he quips before straightening. âIâll see you both later. Just try not to burn the place down before the ball starts.â
As he saunters off, you glance at Eris, catching the way his lips have softened into a true smile. For a moment, the weight on his shoulders seems lighter, and you take his hand in yours.
âLucienâs right,â you say quietly. âThis is your court. And tonight, theyâll see the ruler youâve become.â
Eris squeezes your hand, his gaze holding yours with a warmth that speaks louder than words. âWith you by my side,â he murmurs, âI can face anything.â
Erisâs golden eyes hold yours as the tension in his frame melts away, replaced by something softer, more intimate. Without a word, he steps closer, his hand sliding from your waist to the curve of your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone. He leans in, his breath warm against your skin, and presses a feather-light kiss to your lips. Itâs tender and unhurried, a quiet moment in the chaos of the day.
When he pulls back, his gaze searches yours, his expression open in a way he allows only for you. âHow are you feeling?â he asks softly, his voice low and laced with concern.
You hesitate, glancing down at your joined hands before looking back up at him. âNervous,â you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. âThis is my first ball, Eris. And not just any ballâitâs your ball. Everyone will be watching, judging.â
His brows knit together, and he shakes his head slightly, the corner of his mouth lifting in a reassuring smile. âLet them watch,â he says, his tone firm but soothing. âLet them judge. You are my wife, my queen. No opinion matters more than mine, and in my eyes, you are perfection.â
Your chest tightens at his words, emotion welling up inside you. âYou make it sound so simple,â you murmur, a faint smile tugging at your lips.
He leans down again, his lips brushing your forehead this time, lingering as though to anchor you. âBecause it is,â he murmurs against your skin. âTheyâll see your strength, your grace, just as I do. Youâve already won them over, my love. They just donât know it yet.â
His confidence, steady and unwavering, wraps around you like a protective shield. You nod slowly, the tension in your shoulders easing as you draw strength from his presence. âThank you,â you whisper, your voice steadier now.
Eris straightens, his hand still cradling your face, his thumb tracing idle circles on your cheek. âThank me later,â he says, a playful glint in his eyes. âAfter youâve dazzled them all.â
A laugh escapes you, soft and light, and you realize how much heâs managed to calm you with just a few words and a single kiss. âIâll hold you to that,â you reply, your smile widening.
âYou always do,â he says with a smirk, his fingers lacing through yours as he leads you further down the hall, his hand a steady, grounding presence in yours.
The grand staircase of the Autumn Courtâs palace gleams before you, each step a work of art with intricate carvings of leaves and vines, polished to a mirror-like sheen. You descend slowly, your arm looped through Erisâs, the weight of the evening settling over you with each step. The chandeliers aboveâcrafted from amber and crystalâcast a warm glow that dances across the walls, making the entire space seem alive.
As you step onto the marble floor of the ballroom, you pause, taking in the sheer magnitude of the space. The room stretches farther than you remember, its high vaulted ceilings adorned with autumn leaves that seem to flutter as though caught in a gentle breeze. The rich hues of gold, crimson, and burnt orange dominate the dĂŠcor, and the air is filled with the soft hum of string instruments warming up in the far corner.
You glance around, your brows furrowing slightly as you take in the grandeur. âDid it⌠get bigger?â you ask, your voice quiet but tinged with awe.
Eris glances down at you, a smirk tugging at his lips. âNot exactly,â he replies, his tone amused. âThough I did make a few⌠adjustments.â
âAdjustments?â you repeat, arching a brow as you look back at the ballroom.
He gestures subtly toward the far end of the room, where a raised dais now sits, flanked by towering arrangements of fiery flowers. âThe ceiling was enchanted to give the illusion of more space,â he explains, his voice laced with pride. âAnd the dais was added to ensure everyone has a clear view of their High Lord and Lady tonight.â
You bite back a smile, glancing up at him. âYou mean so they can have a clear view of you.â
His golden eyes glint mischievously as he leans in closer, his breath brushing your ear. âPerhaps,â he murmurs, his voice low, âbut I suspect theyâll find their gazes drawn to you.â
Heat rises to your cheeks at his words, but you quickly compose yourself, your gaze sweeping over the ballroom once more. The attention to detail is staggering, from the delicate leaf patterns etched into the marble columns to the soft golden light that seems to bathe everything in warmth. The room hums with anticipation, even though most of the guests have yet to arrive.
âYouâve outdone yourself,â you say, your voice soft but sincere.
Eris tilts his head, his smirk softening into something more genuine. âItâs not just for me,â he says quietly. âThis is your debut as well. I wanted it to be perfect for you.â
Your heart swells at his words, and you squeeze his arm gently, your nerves settling ever so slightly. âItâs perfect,â you assure him, and for the first time that evening, you truly believe it.
As you and Eris walk further into the grand ballroom, the low hum of the musicians tuning their instruments fills the air, mingling with the soft rustle of your gown as it sweeps across the polished marble floor. Despite the grandeur surrounding you, your thoughts drift back to the nursery, to the way Azer clung to you, his little hands trembling as he sobbed.
You stop walking, your steps faltering as a pang of guilt twists in your chest. Eris notices immediately, turning to face you, his golden eyes filled with concern. âWhat is it?â he asks, his voice low and gentle.
You glance around the empty room, ensuring no one is near enough to overhear, before looking back at him. âI feel terrible about leaving Azer,â you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. âHe was so upset, Eris. The way he cried, the way he begged to come with usâŚâ Your throat tightens, and you shake your head, willing yourself not to let the guilt overwhelm you.
Erisâs expression softens, and he steps closer, his hand coming to rest against your cheek. âLittle firefox is safe,â he says gently. âLyra will care for him as if he were her own. You know that.â
âI know,â you murmur, your voice trembling slightly. âBut it doesnât make it any easier. He doesnât understand why we had to leave. All he knows is that weâre not there, and he wanted to be with us.â
Eris sighs softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek in a soothing gesture. âI feel it too,â he admits, his tone quieter now. âEvery time he cries like that, it feels like my heart is being torn apart. But thisâtonightâis important. For our court, for our family. Heâll understand one day.â
You look up at him, searching his face for reassurance. âWhat if he doesnât, Eris? What if he remembers this as the night we chose the court over him?â
His brows knit together, and he leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. âHe wonât,â he says firmly. âBecause when this ball is over, weâll go straight back to him. Weâll hold him, kiss him, tell him how much we love him. Azer knows heâs our worldâhe feels it every day in the way we care for him.â
The conviction in his voice eases some of the tension in your chest, and you close your eyes, drawing strength from his presence. âI just hate seeing him so upset,â you whisper.
Eris tilts your chin up, his golden eyes locking with yours. âSo do I,â he says softly. âBut Azer is strong, just like his mother. And Lyra is with him. Heâs safe, loved, and cared for. Thatâs what matters most.â
You nod slowly, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. âYouâre right,â you say, though the ache in your chest lingers. âI just needed to say it.â
His lips curve into a small smile, and he presses a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment. âYou never need to keep anything from me,â he murmurs. âNot your fears, not your guilt. Iâll carry them with you, always.â
The grand ballroom is serene for a moment, the soft hum of the musicians and the flicker of enchanted autumn leaves overhead creating a tranquil atmosphere. Youâve just started to steady yourself, leaning into Erisâs calming presence, when the sound of frantic footsteps echoes through the halls.
Eris straightens, his golden eyes narrowing as he turns toward the source of the commotion. The double doors at the far end of the ballroom burst open with a resounding thud, and Alev, one of Erisâs younger brothers, comes barrelling in. His crimson hair is wild, his face flushed with exertion. Behind him, Lucien storms into the room, his expression murderous, his mechanical eye glowing ominously.
âYou little bastard!â Lucien shouts, his voice reverberating off the marble walls. âIâm going to kill you!â
Alev skids to a stop in the centre of the ballroom, his chest heaving as he glances around wildly. His gaze lands on you and Eris, and he raises his hands in mock surrender. âEris! Help! Your psychotic brotherâs lost it!â
Lucienâs growl is low and dangerous as he stalks toward Alev, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. âLost it? You set my bloody room on fire, you little menace!â
Alevâs eyes widen in mock innocence, his lips twitching as though heâs holding back laughter. âI didnât set it on fire! I justâenhanced the ambiance! You know, for the ball.â
âEnhanced the ambiance?â Lucien roars, his mechanical eye flaring brighter. âYou scorched half my wardrobe!â
Eris pinches the bridge of his nose, a long-suffering sigh escaping him. âFor the love of the Cauldron,â he mutters under his breath before stepping forward, his authoritative presence silencing the chaos.
âAlev,â Eris says, his tone calm but laced with warning. âWhat did you do?â
Alev shifts nervously, the smirk fading slightly under his older brotherâs piercing gaze. âIt was just a little spell,â he admits, his voice lighter than it should be. âA small spark to set the mood. I may have underestimated how... flammable Lucienâs curtains were.â
Lucien points an accusatory finger at him. âCurtains, rugs, half the bloody furnitureâEris, I swear, if you donât deal with him, I will.â
Eris raises a hand, silencing Lucien with a single look. âAlev,â he says slowly, his voice like a crackling flame, âdo you have any idea how much chaos youâve caused? Tonight of all nights?â
Alev grins sheepishly. âI was trying to help! You know, add a little Autumn Court flair to his otherwise... bland quarters.â
Lucien lets out an incredulous laugh, clearly seconds away from lunging at his brother. âBland? Youââ
âEnough,â Eris snaps, his voice sharp and commanding. Both brothers freeze, their gazes snapping to him. He exhales slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose again. âAlev, go fix what youâve destroyed. Now. And if I hear so much as a whisper of another incident tonight, youâll wish it was Lucien dealing with you instead of me.â
Alev blinks, then nods quickly. âRight. Fix it. Got it.â He turns on his heel and bolts for the doors, though not without throwing Lucien a cheeky grin over his shoulder.
Lucien groans, running a hand through his hair as he turns to Eris. âYou see what I have to deal with? How have you not strangled him yet?â
Eris smirks faintly, his composure returning. âPatience,â he replies, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. âAnd the knowledge that one day, heâll slip up enough to give me a good excuse.â
You canât help but laugh softly, the tension from earlier momentarily lifted. Eris turns to you, his expression softening. âShall we expect more dramatics tonight, or are you ready to face the ball?â
âWith your family?â you tease lightly. âIâd say both are inevitable.â
Eris chuckles, offering you his arm once more. âYouâre learning,â he says with a smirk, leading you toward the doors. âNow, letâs see if we can survive the evening without another catastrophe.â
You pause just before the grand ballroom doors, your arm still looped through Erisâs. Your gaze lingers on him, soft and questioning, and he stops in his tracks. He knows that look of yoursâheâs learned it all too well. The unspoken request, the subtle tilt of your head, the way your lips press together as though youâre carefully choosing your words.
âYou want to go check on him,â Eris says quietly, his voice laced with understanding.
You nod, biting your lip. âI know Lyra is with him, and I know heâs fine, but⌠this is the longest Iâll have been away from him since he was born. It feelsââ
âStrange,â Eris finishes for you, his golden eyes softening as they meet yours. âI know.â
You glance down at the floor, guilt pooling in your chest. âI just⌠I need to see him, Eris. Just for a moment.â
He gently lifts your chin with his fingers, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. âMy love,â he says softly, his tone carrying a calm authority, âI understand how you feel. Truly. But Azer is safe. This is good for him. He needs to learn a little independence, and so do you.â
You blink at him, your emotions warring within you. âI just feel like Iâm abandoning him,â you whisper.
Eris sighs, his hand slipping to rest on your waist. âYouâre not abandoning him. Youâre showing him that his mother is more than just his caretaker. That sheâs strong, graceful, and capable of leading beside me. And when we go back to him tonight, heâll see that too.â
You nod slowly, his words sinking in, though the ache in your chest remains. Before you can reply, the sound of hurried footsteps echoes behind you, and you both turn just as Alev comes bounding into the room.
âAlev,â Eris says sharply, his brows furrowing, âwhat now?â
Alev skids to a stop, his hair still slightly dishevelled, though his grin is as irreverent as ever. âRelax, brother,â he says, holding up his hands. âI just thought Iâd let you knowâI stopped by the nursery on my way back down.â
You inhale sharply, your attention snapping to him. âAnd? How was Azer?â
Alev hesitates for half a second, glancing nervously over your shoulder. Itâs only then that he sees the warning glare Eris is shooting himâa silent command to tread carefully.
âOh, uh⌠heâs fine!â Alev says quickly, his grin widening. âTotally fine. Lyra had him all snuggled up in his favourite blanket. He wasnât crying or anything. Just⌠looking at his little fox toy. Happy as can be.â
You exhale a shaky breath, relief washing over you. âThank you, Alev,â you say sincerely, your shoulders relaxing.
Alev shrugs, his grin turning a little sheepish. âNo problem. Figured youâd want to know.â
Behind you, Eris arches a brow, his golden eyes still fixed on his younger brother. âThank you for your⌠insightful report,â he says dryly, though his tone carries an unspoken promise of consequences if Alev had dared say anything to upset you.
Alev throws him a mock salute before backing away, his grin still in place. âWell, Iâll leave you two to it. Try not to burn the place down while Iâm gone.â
As he disappears back into the corridor, Eris sighs and turns to you, his hands sliding to rest on your arms. âSee? Heâs fine,â he says softly. âAnd now, so are you. Letâs do this together.â
You nod, leaning into him for a brief moment before squaring your shoulders. âOkay,â you whisper, allowing him to guide you forward.
With Eris by your side, you take the final step into the ballroom, ready to face whatever the evening holds.
-----
The ballroom is alive with music, laughter, and the soft clinking of glasses, but it all feels distant, a blurred backdrop to your rising tension. You sit at one of the ornately carved tables near the edge of the room, the deep burgundy of your wine a sharp contrast to the delicate gold trim of the goblet you hold. You take another sipâno, more like a gulpâyour grip on the stem tight enough to make your knuckles ache.
Three hours. Three endless hours. Youâve smiled, curtsied, and exchanged pleasantries with the High Lords of Spring, Dawn, Summer, and Winter. Each interaction had felt like a delicate dance, one misstep away from disaster. Tamlin of Spring had been cordial enough, though his words carried a stiffness that matched the tight line of his jaw. Thesan of Dawn had been polite and warm, his genuine curiosity about your role as Lady of Autumn easing some of your nerves, if only for a moment. The Summer Courtâs Tarquin had offered a quiet strength in his presence, his words measured but kind. Kallias of Winter had been formal, his icy demeanour a stark contrast to the fiery warmth of the Autumn Court.
And through it all, youâd managed to maintain the poised, composed exterior that Eris had assured you would command their respect. But now, seated alone at the table, your mask of grace and elegance is beginning to crack.
Your gaze flicks across the room to the Night Court delegation, where Lucien is engaged in animated conversation with Rhysand, Feyre, and their inner circle. Even from this distance, you can see the easy camaraderie between them, the subtle smiles and the occasional laughter that spill from their group. You know Lucien feels more at home with them than he does here, and while you understand, it does little to soothe your unease.
Helion, at least, had been a comforting presence earlier in the evening. Youâd known him long before tonight, ever since Erisâs mother, Arlene, had moved into the Day Court after Beronâs death. Helionâs warmth and humour had provided a brief reprieve from the relentless formalities of the evening, but now, with him occupied elsewhere, you feel untethered.
Eris is across the room, locked in conversation with one of his advisors, his expression sharp and unreadable. You know heâs keeping an eye on you, even from afar, but right now, his watchful presence does little to ease the knot of anxiety in your chest.
As you lift your goblet for another sip, a familiar voice cuts through the noise. âYou look like youâre plotting someoneâs demise,â Alev remarks, his tone laced with amusement as he slides into the seat beside you.
You glance at him, raising a brow. âAnd if I were?â
He grins, leaning back in his chair with an air of casual defiance. âDepends. Is it someone Iâd enjoy watching you take down?â
A small, reluctant smile tugs at your lips, though it doesnât quite reach your eyes. âI think the only thing keeping me from snapping is this wine,â you admit, swirling the liquid in your goblet. âAnd even that might not be enough.â
Alev chuckles, his crimson hair catching the golden glow of the chandeliers above. âCome on, it canât be that bad. Youâve survived half the High Lords already. Whatâs one more?â
You cast a pointed glance at the Night Court, where Lucien is still deep in conversation. âItâs not just one more,â you say quietly. âItâs Rhysand and his entire inner circle. Theyâre⌠intimidating.â
Alev follows your gaze, his expression thoughtful. âThey donât look so scary to me. Lucien seems to be holding his own.â
âLucien is used to them,â you counter. âIâm not.â
He shrugs, his grin returning. âWell, if they give you any trouble, just sic Eris on them. Or me. Iâd be happy to cause a little chaos on your behalf.â
You laugh softly, shaking your head. âThatâs the last thing we need tonight, Alev.â
âMaybe,â he concedes, his tone teasing. âBut itâd make for a more entertaining evening, wouldnât it?â
You canât help but smile at his antics, the tension in your shoulders easing just slightly. Alev may be a troublemaker, but in moments like this, his irreverent humour is exactly what you need.
âThank you,â you say quietly, your voice barely audible over the din of the ballroom.
He glances at you, his smirk softening into something more genuine. âAnytime,â he says, his voice steady and sincere.
As the night drags on, the noise in the ballroom seems to grow louder, the laughter and chatter blending into an indistinct hum. You glance over at Eris, still engaged in conversation with his advisor, his posture rigid and his expression betraying the strain of the evening.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you see him step away from the group. His stride is slower than usual, his shoulders slightly slumped, and his usually sharp golden eyes seem dimmer, weighed down by the demands of his title.
He spots you immediately, his gaze softening as he makes his way across the room. The exhaustion etched into his features is stark, his mask of courtly perfection slipping now that heâs out of the scrutinizing eyes of the other lords and advisors.
When he reaches your table, he lets out a long, quiet sigh and sits down heavily beside you. His hand brushes over yours briefly before he leans back, rubbing his temples.
âTired already, my Lord?â you tease lightly, though your voice carries a note of sympathy.
He lets out a dry chuckle, his lips twitching into the faintest smile. âIf I hear one more thinly veiled threat disguised as flattery, I might set the whole ballroom on fire.â
You laugh softly and pick up your goblet, extending it toward him without a word. He glances at you, a flicker of surprise crossing his face, but he doesnât hesitate. He takes the wine from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours, and drinks deeply.
When he sets the goblet down, he exhales, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. âThank you,â he murmurs, his voice low and rough.
âAnytime,â you reply, your lips quirking into a small smile. âConsider it a perk of having me as your wife.â
His golden eyes meet yours, a spark of warmth cutting through his exhaustion. âThe best perk,â he says quietly, his hand finding yours under the table and giving it a gentle squeeze.
His hand still resting over yours, his thumb tracing idle circles against your skin. Thereâs a spark of something in his eyes now, a lightness that hadnât been there earlier. He shifts in his seat, straightening slightly, and turns to face you fully.
âDance with me,â he says softly, his voice low and inviting, though itâs more a request than a command.
You blink at him, momentarily surprised. âHere? Now?â
His lips curve into a faint smirk. âWhy not? Iâm owed at least one dance tonight, and Iâd rather have it with you than anyone else.â
You glance around the bustling ballroom, the glittering gowns and polished boots of the other guests reflecting the glow of the chandeliers above. Before you can voice any hesitation, Eris stands and offers his hand to you, his golden eyes glinting with determination.
âCome,â he murmurs. âI know a better place.â
Intrigued, you slide your hand into his, letting him guide you away from the crowded floor. He leads you toward the grand doors that have been opened to the gardens, where the fresh, crisp scent of rain drifts in on the cool night air. The gardens, transformed into an extended ballroom, glimmer under the soft glow of floating lanterns.
The rain is gentle, a light mist that barely kisses your skin as Eris steps into the open garden, the soft patter against the stone tiles creating a melody of its own. He turns to you, his hair catching the golden light, and extends his hand again.
âWill you dance with me here?â he asks, his voice softer now, almost tender.
You glance up at the misty sky, the droplets shimmering like tiny diamonds as they fall. âItâs raining,â you say, though thereâs no protest in your tone.
âA little rain never hurt anyone,â Eris replies, his lips quirking into a playful smile. âBesides, itâs quieter here. Just us.â
Your heart flutters at the sincerity in his words, and you place your hand in his once more. He pulls you close, one arm wrapping around your waist while the other holds your hand, his grip steady and sure.
As the music from the ballroom drifts faintly into the garden, Eris begins to sway with you, guiding you effortlessly across the rain-slicked tiles. The world feels smaller here, the distant chatter and laughter fading away until itâs just the two of you, moving together under the soft drizzle.
The rain cools your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of Erisâs touch as he holds you close. His gaze never leaves yours, golden and intent, filled with a quiet affection that steals your breath.
âYouâve been incredible tonight,â he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the gentle patter of rain. âI know how hard this is for you. But youâve handled it all with grace.â
You shake your head slightly, a small laugh escaping you. âIf grace means aggressively sipping wine and hiding from the High Lords, then sure.â
Eris chuckles, his breath warm against your temple as he pulls you even closer. âTo me, it means being yourself. Even when itâs hard.â
The sincerity in his words makes your chest ache, and you rest your head against his shoulder, letting him lead you in the quiet dance. The rain falls softly around you, catching in his fiery hair and soaking into the rich fabric of his suit, but neither of you care.
In this moment, with the garden as your ballroom and the rain as your accompaniment, the weight of the evening lifts, leaving only the warmth of his presence and the steady rhythm of your hearts.
-----
From the balcony overlooking the garden, the Night Courtâs inner circle had gathered, drawn by the faint sound of laughter and the soft glow of lanterns spilling into the misty rain. Feyre leaned against the railing, her hand loosely intertwined with Rhysandâs, while Cassian and Azriel stood nearby, their dark wings slightly folded, their gazes sharp. Mor and Amren were seated on a cushioned bench, but even they couldnât resist peering out into the rain-soaked garden below.
The scene unfolding before them was nothing short of surprising.
âThere,â Mor murmured, gesturing with a tilt of her chin.
Eris Vanserra, of all people, was dancing in the rain. But it wasnât the stiff, performative kind of dance theyâd expect from the newly crowned High Lord of Autumn. This was⌠intimate. Genuine.
He moved with an easy grace, his hands firmly guiding his partnerâyou, his wifeâacross the rain-slicked stones. The faint music from the ballroom drifted into the night, but it seemed almost irrelevant. The two of you were lost in your own rhythm, your laughter carrying softly on the cool breeze.
âIs thatâŚ?â Cassian began, leaning forward as if he couldnât believe what he was seeing.
âItâs his wife,â Feyre confirmed, her lips curving into a faint smile.
Rhysand said nothing, his violet eyes narrowing as he observed Erisâs expression.
They had seen him many times before: sharp, calculating, cruel. A predator dressed in finery. But now? Now, he looked like someone entirely different.
As the inner circle watched, Eris suddenly dropped to one knee, his fiery hair damp with rain, his hand disappearing beneath the delicate folds of your gown. The motion was quick, fluid, and in an instant, he pulled out a dagger from some hidden sheath at his side.
âWhat the hell is he doing?â Azriel murmured, his shadows swirling with tension.
But their apprehension faded as Eris took the dagger to the hem of your dress, his movements precise as he carefully cut another slit along the fabric. The silk parted easily beneath the blade, creating a matching slit opposite the one already present. He sheathed the dagger just as quickly, the glint of the blade vanishing into the folds of his coat.
You were laughing, your head thrown back as you leaned against his shoulder, and Eris stood, brushing his fingers along the edge of the fabric to ensure it wouldnât catch. He whispered something to you, too soft for the onlookers to hear, and thenâwithout warningâhe lifted you off the ground.
Your laughter rang out, light and joyful, as he spun you in a circle, his hands steady at your waist. The movement was effortless, as though he had done it a thousand times before. The lantern light caught the droplets of rain clinging to his hair, his suit, and most notably, the smile on his face.
A real smile.
Not the cunning smirk he so often wore, nor the sly grin meant to unsettle his enemies. This was something deeper, something softer, something the inner circle had never seen before.
âIs he⌠smiling?â Cassian asked, incredulous.
Mor leaned forward, her golden hair glinting in the light. âI think he is,â she said, her voice tinged with equal parts awe and disbelief.
âThatâs a first,â Amren muttered, though even her silver eyes softened at the sight.
Feyre glanced at Rhys, her brow slightly raised. âDo you think heâs actually happy?â she asked quietly.
Rhysand didnât answer immediately. His gaze remained fixed on Eris, watching as he set you back on your feet with a gentleness that seemed impossible for the man they thought they knew. The way his hands lingered at your waist, the way his head tilted down to hear your laugh more clearlyâit wasnât an act.
âI think,â Rhys finally said, his voice low, âweâve never seen the real Eris Vanserra before.â
Below, Eris leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead, his smile lingering as he pulled you closer. The rain continued to fall, unnoticed by either of you, and the inner circle watched in silence, captivated by the unguarded, unexpected display of love from a man they had always considered unfeeling.
For the first time, Eris Vanserra seemed⌠fae. And it left them with far more questions than answers.
The inner circle remained silent, captivated by the unexpected scene unfolding in the rain-soaked garden below. None of them had ever thought Eris capable of such tenderness, let alone joy. It was a moment so foreign, so incongruous with the man they had come to know, that they could hardly look away.
âEnjoying the show, are we?â
The voice came from behind them, sharp and laced with amusement. They all turned to see Alev Vanserra, Erisâs younger brother, leaning casually against the doorway that led to the balcony. His crimson hair was damp from the rain, and his amber eyes gleamed with a mischievous light.
Cassian narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms. âYouâre surprisingly cheerful for someone who just fled the ballroom with your brother shouting after you.â
Alev smirked, shrugging one shoulder. âEris is always shouting about something. Iâve learned to tune it out.â
Mor arched a brow, stepping closer. âAnd what about you? Shouldnât you be inside, causing chaos?â
âI could,â Alev said with a mock-serious nod. âBut then I wouldnât get to see all of your reactions to this.â He gestured toward the garden, where Eris had just twirled you again, your dress fanning out as you laughed.
Azrielâs shadows coiled tighter around him, his expression unreadable. âWhat do you want, Alev?â
âNothing, nothing,â Alev said, raising his hands in mock surrender. âJust thought Iâd join the peanut gallery for a moment. Watching Eris act like an actual person is a rare event, after all. Wouldnât want to miss it.â
Feyre tilted her head, studying him. âYou donât seem surprised.â
Alevâs grin softened, just slightly. âWhy would I be? Heâs always been like this with her. The rest of you just never get to see it.â
That earned a flicker of interest from Rhysand, who regarded Alev with his usual inscrutable expression. âYouâre saying this is common?â
âWith her? Absolutely,â Alev replied, his gaze drifting back to the garden. âWith everyone else? Not so much. Sheâs⌠different for him. Special.â
Cassian scoffed, but there was no real malice in it. âHard to imagine Eris Vanserra being soft for anyone.â
âMaybe thatâs your problem,â Alev shot back, his tone still light but carrying an edge. âYouâve all only ever seen the mask he wears for court. Thatâs not who he isânot completely.â
Rhysâs violet eyes narrowed slightly. âAnd youâd defend him, after everything?â
Alevâs smirk faded, and for a moment, his gaze hardened. âIâm not defending him,â he said quietly. âIâm just saying thereâs more to him than you know. Thatâs all.â
The inner circle exchanged glances, the weight of his words hanging in the air.
âAnd if youâll excuse me,â Alev added, his usual smirk returning, âIâve got a drink waiting for me inside. Enjoy the show.â
With that, he turned and disappeared back into the ballroom, leaving them to mull over his words as they returned their attention to the rain-drenched garden below.
The rain had picked up slightly, but you hardly noticed, lost in the rhythm of Erisâs movements as he twirled you around the garden. The music from the ballroom drifted faintly on the air, but the sound of your laughter drowned it out, the world narrowing to just the two of you.
Eris spun you faster this time, his hand firm on yours, the other resting at the small of your back. You let out a surprised laugh, swatting at his arm when the spinning became a little too enthusiastic.
âEris!â you exclaimed, breathless. âYouâre going to make me fall.â
He smirked, the playful glint in his golden eyes shining brighter than the lanterns. âIâd never let you fall, my love,â he replied, his voice smooth and teasing. âBut you do look rather adorable when youâre dizzy.â
Before you could retort, he abruptly caught you mid-spin and pulled you close, dipping you dramatically. The world tilted, your hands instinctively flying to his shoulders to steady yourself, but his grip was unyielding, his strength evident even in the gentlest touch.
âIâll have to remember that move,â he teased, his fiery hair falling slightly into his eyes as he leaned down. âIt keeps you right where I want you.â
Your heart fluttered at the intensity of his gaze, at the way the rain clung to his lashes and dampened the sharp lines of his face. âYouâre impossible,â you said, though your voice lacked any true heat.
âAnd yet, youâre still here,â he murmured, his lips brushing against yours in a fleeting, tantalizing kiss.
You let out a soft laugh, your fingers curling into the fabric of his coat. âFor now.â
He arched a brow, his smirk deepening. âCareful, little fox,â he said, his voice low and teasing as he dipped you even lower, his grip unshakable. âYou wouldnât want me to think youâre challenging me.â
The rain fell heavier now, but the warmth of his breath against your skin, the steadiness of his hold, and the fire in his eyes made you forget the chill. Then, without warning, he kissed you again, this time deeper, his lips stealing the last of your breath and leaving you utterly lost in him.
When he finally pulled back, he straightened, bringing you with him as he set you back on your feet. âAdmit it,â he said, his voice a mix of smugness and affection. âYouâre having fun.â
You rolled your eyes, though your flushed cheeks and lingering smile betrayed you. âYouâre lucky I love you,â you muttered, swatting his arm again.
He caught your hand this time, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before spinning you once more, his laughter blending with yours as the rain continued to fall.
Back on the balcony, the inner circle remained transfixed, watching the scene unfold below. Erisâs laughterâactual, genuine laughterâcarried faintly through the rain, blending with the sound of your own.
Cassian let out a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. âI think Iâve seen everything now. Eris Vanserra laughing, smiling, and dancing in the rain? Who knew he had it in him.â
Mor leaned against the railing, her golden hair glinting faintly in the lantern light. âItâs not just the laughing,â she said, her voice quieter, more contemplative. âLook at him. Heâs⌠happy. Like, actually happy.â
âThatâs what love will do to you,â Feyre murmured, her lips curving into a small smile as she watched Eris dip you low, your laughter ringing out like a melody.
Amren snorted from her seat, her sharp silver eyes flicking briefly toward the scene. âOr madness. The line between the two is thinner than most think.â
Azriel, standing slightly apart from the group, didnât respond. His shadows swirled around him, reflecting the tension in his stance, but his gaze remained fixed on Eris. âHeâs not who we thought he was,â he said finally, his voice low and even.
Rhysand, who had been quiet for some time, rested his hands on the balcony rail, his violet eyes narrowing thoughtfully. âNo,â he agreed. âHeâs not.â
The High Lordâs gaze flicked to Alevâs empty chair, a shadow of a smirk tugging at his lips. âHis brother wasnât wrong. Weâve only seen the side of him that benefits his games. ThisâŚâ He gestured vaguely to the garden below, where Eris had just spun you again, your dress fanning out as you swatted at him, both of you laughing. âThis is new. For us, at least.â
âAnd youâre telling me this,â Cassian said, pointing toward Eris with an incredulous look, âis the same bastard who tried to burn Lucien alive as a kid? The same Eris whoââ
âYes,â Rhys said simply, cutting him off. âBut people are more complicated than their worst moments, Cassian. Heâs been playing a role for a long time. Maybe too long.â
Cassian grunted, clearly unconvinced, but he didnât argue further.
Mor crossed her arms, her gaze still fixed on the garden. âDo you think heâs changed?â
âNot entirely,â Rhys replied, his tone careful. âBut maybe heâs⌠trying.â
âOr maybe sheâs the one who changes him,â Feyre added softly, her eyes warm as she watched you laugh and lean into Erisâs chest.
Amren huffed. âLetâs not start romanticizing the brute just yet. A few dances in the rain donât erase centuries of cruelty.â
âNo,â Feyre agreed, turning her gaze toward Rhys. âBut it does mean thereâs more to him than we thought. And maybe thatâs worth watching.â
As the conversation continued, Eris dipped you once more, pressing a kiss to your lips that left you smiling even as the rain began to drench your hair and dress. The sight of his rare, unguarded happiness lingered in their minds, sparking a quiet, uneasy realization: the man they thought they knew might not be the whole story after all.
The rain, which had started as a light drizzle, suddenly intensified into a downpour. The soft patter turned into a symphony of heavy drops, soaking through your dress and Erisâs fine clothes in seconds.
You let out a startled laugh, trying to shield your face with your hands as the water cascaded down. âEris!â you exclaimed, blinking against the deluge. âThis is no longer romanticâitâs a storm!â
Eris, his fiery hair plastered to his forehead, grinned mischievously. âDidnât you say you wanted an unforgettable night, little fox?â
Before you could respond, he grabbed your hand, tugging you forward with an energy that made your heart race. âCome on!â
âWhere are we going?â you called, laughing even as you stumbled after him.
âTo the other side of the garden!â he shouted over the roar of the rain, his voice carrying above the chaos.
The two of you darted through the garden, your soaked skirts clinging to your legs and slowing your pace. Eris kept a firm grip on your hand, guiding you expertly around puddles and flowerbeds as you both ran toward the sheltered pavilion on the far side.
The rain lashed harder, drenching every inch of you, but neither of you seemed to care. Your laughter mingled with the storm, and despite the chill, there was a warmth in the way Eris glanced back at you, his golden eyes bright with exhilaration.
Finally, you reached the pavilion, the stone archway offering a reprieve from the downpour. You collapsed against one of the columns, breathless and laughing, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.
Eris joined you, his hands braced on either side of the column as he leaned in close, droplets of rain rolling down his sharp jawline. âYouâre drenched,â he said, his tone teasing but his gaze soft.
âSo are you,â you shot back, flicking a strand of wet hair from your face.
He chuckled, his fingers reaching up to tuck the errant strand behind your ear. âYou look beautiful like this,â he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, intimate tone.
Your heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in his words. âYouâre impossible,â you whispered, though your smile betrayed your affection.
âAnd you love me for it,â he replied, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to your rain-slicked lips.
For a moment, the world fadedâthe storm, the ball, the weight of the crown Eris now wore. It was just the two of you, drenched and laughing, hidden away in your own little corner of the garden.
The inner circle remained on the balcony, now huddled beneath the stone awning to avoid the storm's reach. The rain lashed against the marble, a distant echo to the laughter that had accompanied you and Eris as you darted out of sight into the garden. The scene below was empty now, the storm masking all but the faint music from the ballroom.
Lucien approached from the stairwell, his auburn hair slightly damp, his gold and russet eye catching the flickering light of the lanterns. He paused when he saw them, his lips curving into a wry smile.
âYouâre all watching him like heâs some sort of rare creature in the wild,â he said, crossing his arms as he joined them at the railing.
Cassian leaned against the stone, smirking. âYou canât tell me that wasnât worth watching. Your brother, spinning his wife like a lovestruck fool in the middle of a downpour?â He chuckled. âNever thought Iâd see the day.â
Lucien arched a brow, his good eye narrowing slightly. âCareful, Cassian. Eris isnât as oblivious as youâd like to think. Heâs likely aware of every one of you standing here gawking.â
Mor scoffed, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. âHe didnât even glance this way. He was too busy playing prince charming.â
âHe didnât need to,â Lucien said, a hint of exasperation in his tone. âEris always knows his surroundings, especially now. But I suppose none of you would understand how much that crown weighsâon him, on her.â
Rhysand tilted his head slightly, watching Lucien with mild curiosity. âYou sound almost⌠sympathetic, Lucien.â
Lucien shrugged, his gaze drifting toward the rain-soaked garden. âI know what itâs like to have people assume they know you, to reduce you to your worst moments. And I know what itâs like to see someone you care about carry more than they should.â
His words hung in the air, a quiet truth none of them could argue.
Azrielâs shadows coiled tighter, his voice breaking the silence. âDo you believe heâs changed?â
Lucien hesitated, his jaw tightening as if weighing his words. âI believe heâs trying. For her, for their-... And thatâs more than I ever thought possible.â
Feyre studied him, her expression softening. âYouâve seen it firsthand, havenât you?â
Lucien nodded, a faint, almost reluctant smile tugging at his lips. âHeâs still Erisâsharp edges and all. But when heâs with herâŚâ His gaze flicked to the garden again, where the rain still fell heavily. âItâs like those edges dull, just a little. He loves her. Fiercely. And I think that scares him as much as it comforts him.â
Cassian snorted, shaking his head. âFierce or not, heâs still the same arrogant bastard whoââ
âCassian,â Rhys warned, his tone light but carrying enough weight to make the Illyrian warrior pause.
Lucienâs smile didnât falter, but there was a dangerous gleam in his russet eye as he turned toward Cassian. âHe is arrogant,â he agreed smoothly. âAnd heâs made mistakes. But donât let your biases blind you to whatâs in front of you.â
Mor looked ready to interject, but Rhys raised a hand, silencing her. âThatâs enough,â he said, his gaze lingering on Lucien. âWeâre not here to pass judgmentâyet.â
Lucien inclined his head, though the tension in his frame didnât ease. âJust remember, Rhysand. Whatever you think of Eris, she chose him. And she seems happy.â
With that, Lucien stepped back, his gaze once again drawn to the stormy garden. His expression softened, a flicker of something unreadable passing across his face before he turned and walked back into the ballroom, leaving the inner circle to ponder his words in silence.
The rain continued to fall in heavy sheets as Eris led you deeper into the garden, his steps purposeful despite the mud slicking the stone paths. The storm seemed to heighten everythingâthe cool, wet air against your skin, the pounding of your heart, the way his golden eyes burned with something primal and unrestrained.
Before you could fully process his intent, he stopped abruptly, turning to face you. Without a word, his hands slid to your waist, and in one swift, commanding movement, he pressed you back against the soft grass beneath the open sky.
âEris,â you murmured, your voice breathless as your hands instinctively reached up to grip the lapels of his soaked coat.
He leaned down, his body caging yours, every line of him sharp and unyielding against the stormâs chaos. âShh, little fox,â he whispered, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver through you. âYouâre mine tonight. All of you.â
His lips descended on yours, fierce and demanding, yet somehow achingly tender. The rain pelted down around you, but you barely felt it, too consumed by the heat of his kiss. His hands roamed your sides, his touch grounding you even as it left you utterly undone.
The kiss deepened, his tongue teasing yours with a skill that left you breathless. You arched into him, your fingers threading through his damp hair as his hand slid to the curve of your hip, pulling you impossibly closer.
When he finally broke the kiss, his lips brushed against your jaw, your neck, trailing heat in their wake. âYou drive me mad,â he murmured against your skin, his voice rough and unguarded. âDo you know that?â
Your heart thundered in your chest, your voice a trembling whisper as you replied, âYouâre one to talk.â
He laughed softly, the sound vibrating through you as he leaned back just enough to meet your gaze. The storm raged on around you, but in his eyes, there was only fireâfire that promised heâd never let you go.
âYouâre mine,â he said again, the words a vow as his lips claimed yours once more, his body sheltering you from the storm even as his kiss consumed you completely.
Eris pulled back slightly, his breath warm against your rain-cooled skin, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His golden eyes roamed over your face, his expression caught somewhere between reverence and possessiveness, as though he couldnât quite believe you were real.
You opened your mouth to say something, to tease him or demand another kiss, but he beat you to it. âI should take you back inside,â he murmured, though his hands stayed firm on your hips, pinning you to the soft, rain-drenched earth. âBut I canât seem to let you go.â
You let out a shaky laugh, brushing a soaked strand of his hair away from his face. âMaybe I donât want you to.â
His grin was slow and wicked, the kind that always made your pulse race. âIs that so?â he asked, lowering his lips to the hollow of your throat, pressing a kiss there that made you shiver despite the heat pooling in your stomach.
The rain continued to fall, soaking through both your clothes and the soft earth beneath you, but neither of you cared. Eris shifted slightly, his body a solid, grounding weight against yours, his hands sliding from your waist to your thighs, his thumbs tracing lazy circles through the fabric of your dress.
âYouâre everything to me, little fox,â he said softly, his voice raw with emotion. âDo you know that? My world begins and ends with you.â
Tears pricked at your eyes, though you werenât sure if it was from the intensity of his words or the way he looked at youâlike you were the only thing that mattered. âEris,â you whispered, your voice trembling as you cupped his face, forcing him to meet your gaze. âI love you. More than anything.â
His breath hitched at your words, his lips parting as if to respond, but instead, he kissed you again, pouring every ounce of his devotion into it.
The storm raged on, but in that moment, nothing else existedâjust you, Eris, and the fire that burned between you, unquenchable even by the rain.
-----
The ballroom carried on in its lively revelry, the swirling gowns and vibrant music disguising the absence of its new High Lord and his lady. Most were too engrossed in their conversations, drinks, or dances to notice that Eris and you had slipped away, though the inner circle, seated near the grand doors, had kept an eye on the eveningâs events with quiet curiosity.
Feyre, lounging at the table beside Rhysand, tilted her head toward the doorway, her brows furrowing. âDo you see that?â she murmured, her voice low but sharp enough to catch her companionsâ attention.
Cassian, who had been nursing his drink, looked up and followed her gaze. Near the doorway, a small figure stood hesitantly, his auburn hair glinting in the flickering light of the chandeliers. His clothes were finely made but slightly rumpled, as if heâd been running or hiding.
âThatâs a child,â Mor said, her tone incredulous. âWhat in the Motherâs name is a child doing here? This isnât exactly a family gathering.â
Azrielâs shadows curled tighter around him as he observed the boy. âHeâs too young to be here alone,â he said quietly. âSomeone shouldââ
Before he could finish, Feyre gestured toward Lucien, who was standing nearby. âLucien,â she called, her voice cutting across the noise. âCome here for a moment.â
Lucien approached, his gaze sharp as he followed their pointed looks toward the boy. The moment he saw him, his body stiffened, his eyes widening in recognition. âAzer?â he muttered under his breath before suddenly striding forward.
The inner circle exchanged puzzled glances as they watched Lucien kneel in front of the boy, his expression softening as he gently placed a hand on his shoulder.
âAzer,â Lucien said, his tone both firm and kind. âWhat are you doing here, little one? Whereâs your sitter?â
The boyâs wide, teary eyes looked up at him, his lower lip trembling. âThere was⌠a fire in my room,â Azer hiccupped, his voice high and distressed. âShe told me to step away.â
Lucienâs jaw tightened. âA fire?â
Azer nodded, tears spilling down his cheeks. âIâI made a spark, Uncle Lucien,â he confessed, his tiny voice breaking. âI didnât mean to! I didnât know I could do that.â
The revelation hit Lucien hard, but he quickly scooped the boy into his arms, holding him close as Azer began to sob in earnest. âShh, little fox,â he murmured, trying to calm him. âItâs okay. Youâre not in trouble.â
âWhereâs Mama? Dada?â Azer cried, his small hands clutching at Lucienâs tunic.
Lucienâs heart clenched at the desperate plea, but his focus remained on soothing the boy. He turned back toward the inner circle, carrying Azer with a protective arm around him.
As he approached, the groupâs expressions ranged from confusion to shock. Feyre, in particular, seemed stunned. âThatâsââ she started, her gaze darting between Azer and Lucien. âIs heâŚ?â
Lucien didnât meet her eyes. âYes,â he said shortly. âThis is Azer. Eris and Y/Nâs son.â
The table fell silent, the revelation striking like a thunderclap.
Cassian was the first to break the silence. âWait, Eris has a kid? And no one told us?â
Mor blinked, her mouth opening and closing as if trying to find words. âHow⌠whenâŚ?â
Before anyone could press further, Alev appeared, his expression one of mild alarm as he approached the group. âWhatâs going on?â he asked, his gaze flicking to Azer.
Lucien, his tone sharp, said, âAzer lit a spark in his room. Itâs his first time using his powers.â
Alevâs face paled, his hand instinctively running through his hair. âOh, cauldron,â he muttered. âThis might be my fault. I told him a story earlierâabout how I accidentally set your curtains on fire. He mustâveâŚâ
Lucienâs glare was deadly. âYou what?â
Azer hiccupped, his small body trembling in Lucienâs arms. âI didnât mean to,â he sobbed, his face buried in Lucienâs shoulder. âI just wanted to see if I could make a spark like Uncle Alev.â
Alev looked stricken, his guilt plain as he reached out to touch Azerâs back. âLittle fox, Iâm so sorry. I didnât mean for you to try that.â
The inner circle exchanged stunned glances, their earlier judgments of Eris and you now tempered by the sight of the distraught child.
Rhysand, always the calmest, leaned back in his chair and said quietly, âWell, this certainly explains a few things.â
âIt explains everything,â Feyre added softly, her gaze lingering on Azer, who clung to Lucien as though his life depended on it.
Cassian let out a low whistle, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his chair. âSo, not only does Eris have a kid, but heâs been hiding him? Makes you wonder what else heâs keeping secret.â
âMore like why he hid him,â Mor added, her voice laced with sharpness. âIf he was so proud of his son, why wouldnât heââ
âEnough,â Lucien snapped, his voice cutting through their remarks like a blade.
The group stilled, turning to face him. Lucienâs expression was uncharacteristically hard, his russet eye blazing with anger while his mechanical one whirred faintly as it focused on each of them. Azer, still clinging to him, hiccupped softly, his tiny hands fisting in Lucienâs tunic.
âYou can say what you want about me,â Lucien began, his voice low and fierce. âAnd you can say what you want about Eris. But you will not speak of Azer like heâs some kind of scandal to be dissected.â
âLucienââ Feyre started, but he cut her off with a glare.
âNo,â he said firmly. âYou donât understand. Azer wasnât hidden because Eris wasnât proud of him. He was hidden because he was born during Beronâs rule.â
The air in the room seemed to grow heavier at the mention of Beron, the former High Lord of Autumn whose cruelty was well-known.
âIf Beron had known Azer existed,â Lucien continued, his voice shaking with restrained fury, âhe wouldnât have lived to see his first birthday. Eris and Y/N kept him hidden to protect him, not because they were ashamed.â
Morâs expression softened slightly, but her tone remained skeptical. âIâm not saying they didnât have reasons, Lucien. But keeping a child secret for yearsââ
âYou donât get to judge them,â Lucien bit out, his tone sharp. âYou have no idea what it was like in this court. What it took to survive, let alone to keep a child safe.â He adjusted Azer in his arms, his hold protective. âAzer is not to be a topic on your tongues. Not now, not ever.â
Azriel, who had been silent until now, leaned forward slightly, his shadows curling tighter around him. âWe werenât trying to judge the child,â he said carefully. âBut itâs⌠surprising. Thatâs all.â
Lucienâs gaze narrowed, but he nodded curtly. âSurprising or not, Azer is off-limits. I donât care what you think of me or Eris, but you will leave him out of it. Heâs innocent in all of this.â
The inner circle exchanged glances, a mixture of unease and understanding passing between them. Rhysand finally spoke, his tone measured. âFair enough, Lucien. Weâll respect your wishes.â
Lucienâs shoulders relaxed marginally, but the fire in his gaze didnât fade. âGood. Because Azer isnât just Erisâs son. Heâs my nephew. And I wonât let anyone treat him like heâs some kind of stain on our family.â
Azer whimpered softly, his little voice breaking through the tense silence. âI want Mama and Dada.â
Lucienâs expression softened immediately, and he pressed a kiss to the boyâs rain-damp hair. âI know, little fox,â he murmured. âWeâll find them soon.â
For the first time, the inner circle seemed to see Azer not as a symbol of Erisâs secrets but as a scared, vulnerable child. And in that moment, no one dared say another word.
Alev came rushing back into the ballroom, his normally composed expression frazzled as his eyes scanned the crowd. His coat was slightly askew, his hair damp from the rain outside.
âIâve looked everywhere,â he said breathlessly, his voice tight with frustration as he approached Lucien and the inner circle. âI canât find Eris or Y/N anywhere.â
Lucienâs jaw tightened as he shifted Azer, still rocking the boy gently in his arms. Azer clung to him, his tiny fingers fisting in Lucienâs tunic, his sobs quieter now but no less heart-wrenching.
âKeep your voice down,â Lucien hissed, glancing around to ensure no one else overheard.
âTheyâre probably somewhere in the gardens,â Alev muttered, running a hand through his hair. âBut itâs pouring out there, and theyâre not answering any of the usual signals.â
Before Lucien could respond, a soft but firm voice interrupted. âAzer? What are you doing down here?â
Everyone turned to see Lady Arlene, her elegant figure framed by the light from the grand chandeliers. She moved with a regal grace, her auburn hair swept up, her amber eyes sharp but filled with concern. Helion followed closely behind her, his expression curious as his golden gaze flicked to Azer.
âMother,â Lucien said, his voice heavy with relief.
Arleneâs eyes widened when they fell on her grandson, who was still trembling in Lucienâs arms. Her expression softened instantly as she stepped closer, her skirts brushing the floor. âWhat happened?â she asked, her voice gentle as she reached out to stroke Azerâs hair.
Lucien sighed, his grip on Azer tightening protectively. âThere was a fire in his room,â he explained, keeping his voice low. âHe⌠lit a spark. For the first time.â
Arlene froze, her hand stilling against Azerâs curls. âA fire?â she repeated, her tone laced with both shock and understanding. âOh, my little firefox.â
Azer sniffled, lifting his tear-streaked face to look at her. âI didnât mean to, Grandmama,â he whimpered. âI just wanted to try like Uncle Alev said.â
Alev visibly winced, muttering, âI really shouldnât have told him that story.â
Arlene shot him a pointed look but said nothing, focusing instead on her grandson. âItâs alright, sweetheart,â she murmured, her voice soothing. âYou didnât do anything wrong. Powers like yours can be tricky at first.â
Helion stepped forward then, his golden armour glinting in the light. His expression was equal parts curiosity and pride as he looked at Azer. âFirst sparks, hmm?â he said, his voice warm and deep. âA sign of strength, little one. Nothing to fear.â
Azer sniffled again, his big, teary eyes meeting Helionâs. âBut I scared my babysitter. And I couldnât find Mama and Dada.â
Lucien tightened his hold, rocking Azer gently. âTheyâll be back soon,â he promised. âYouâre safe now.â
Arlene exchanged a glance with Helion, her lips pressing into a thin line. âIâll go find them,â she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Helion nodded, placing a reassuring hand on her arm. âIâll come with you.â
As they turned to leave, Arlene glanced back at Azer, her expression softening once more. âStay with your uncle, little fox. Iâll bring your parents back to you.â
Azer nodded weakly, his head resting against Lucienâs shoulder. The boy was exhausted, his earlier sobs having worn him out, but the occasional hiccup still shook his small frame.
The inner circle watched the exchange in silence, a mix of emotions flickering across their faces. Feyreâs gaze lingered on Azer, her expression unreadable, while Cassian and Mor exchanged wary looks. Rhysand leaned back in his chair, his eyes sharp as they followed Arlene and Helionâs retreating forms.
Lucien finally broke the silence, his voice low and firm. âSay what you want about Eris and me, but Azer isnât up for discussion, I said it more than once but I'll say it again. Not tonight, not ever. Heâs a childâa good childâand he deserves better than to be the subject of your scrutiny.â
Feyre nodded slowly, her tone soft as she said, âYouâre right. He doesnât deserve that.â
Lucienâs shoulders relaxed slightly, though the fire in his gaze didnât dim. He glanced down at Azer, his voice softening as he murmured, âYouâre safe, little fox. Your parents will be here soon.â
As the room settled into a tense quiet, Azer stirred in Lucienâs arms, his hiccups subsiding into soft breaths. He sniffled, his small hands clutching at Lucienâs tunic as he lifted his tear-streaked face. His wide, amber eyesâso much like his fatherâsâscanned the room, landing on Cassian, Azriel, and Rhysand.
Azer blinked, his curiosity breaking through the haze of his earlier tears. âWhy do they have wings?â he asked, his voice small but clear as he pointed a tiny finger toward the three Illyrians.
The question caught everyone off guard, and for a moment, the tension in the room softened. Cassian exchanged a glance with Azriel, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
âWe were born with them,â Cassian said, leaning back in his chair and giving his wings an exaggerated stretch. âTheyâre part of being Illyrian.â
Azer tilted his head, his small brows furrowing in confusion. âWhatâs an Illyrian?â
âTheyâre warriors,â Lucien explained gently, his tone patient. âThey come from a different part of the Night Court.â
Azerâs eyes grew even wider as he looked back at the three males. âWarriors? Like Dada?â
Azrielâs lips twitched in what might have been a smile, though his shadows curled tighter around him. âSomething like that,â he said quietly.
Cassian chuckled, his grin widening. âI bet we could teach you a thing or two about being a warrior, little one.â
Lucien shot him a sharp look. âHeâs three, Cassian. Letâs not give him ideas.â
Azer ignored the exchange, his attention fixated on Rhysand now. âCan I have wings too?â
Rhysand, who had been watching the interaction with quiet amusement, leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table. âI donât think wings are something you can grow, little one,â he said, his tone light. âBut you donât need them to be strong. Youâve got fire in your veins, just like your father.â
Azerâs face scrunched up as he considered this, then turned back to Lucien. âBut wings would be fun,â he insisted, his small voice earnest.
Lucien sighed, a soft chuckle escaping him despite himself. âYouâll have to make do without them, little fox.â
The inner circle exchanged subtle glances, their earlier wariness giving way to quiet intrigue as they observed the boyâs innocent curiosity. For a moment, the weight of secrets and past grievances seemed to lift, replaced by the simple wonder of a child discovering the world around him.
Azerâs gaze lingered on the Illyrians for a moment longer before he nestled back into Lucienâs shoulder, his tiny voice murmuring, âMaybe one dayâŚâ
Lucien smiled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. âMaybe one day,â he agreed, his voice filled with quiet affection.
The tension in the room only deepened when Lady Arlene, Helion, and Alev returned, their faces marked with worry. Alevâs hair was even more dishevelled than before, and both Arlene and Helion looked like they had braved the worsening storm outside.
âNo sign of them,â Arlene announced, her voice tight as she approached Lucien and Azer. âThe gardens are sprawling, and the rain is turning into a storm. They could be anywhere.â
Helion placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, though his own concern was evident. âTheyâre clever. Theyâll be fine. But we should keep searching.â
Azer, still in Lucienâs arms, babbled softly to himself, seemingly unaware of the adultsâ growing unease. His little voice carried a mix of words and toddler gibberish, his fingers playing with the collar of Lucienâs tunic. His eyes, though still red-rimmed from crying, were wide with curiosity as he noticed the way Azrielâs shadows danced around him.
ââShadows,â Azer murmured, his small hand stretching out toward the wisps of darkness that curled and swirled around Azriel like living things. âWanna play.â
Azriel glanced down at the boy, his expression unreadable. His shadows seemed to hesitate for a moment before one daring tendril crept closer, teasingly twirling around Azerâs outstretched fingers.
Azer giggled softly, the sound tinged with sniffles as he tried to grab at the shadow. âGotcha!â he exclaimed, his toddler speech slightly garbled. âNo⌠no run!â
Azriel allowed a rare, faint smile to tug at the corner of his lips as his shadow darted away, only to circle back and flick at Azerâs tiny fingers.
Lucien sighed, adjusting Azer in his arms as he watched the interaction. âDonât encourage him, Azriel,â he muttered, though his tone lacked any real bite.
âIâm not doing anything,â Azriel replied smoothly, though there was a flicker of amusement in his voice.
Azer giggled again, distracted from the earlier upset as he babbled nonsense words to the shadow, his sniffles gradually fading. The storm outside intensified, the sound of rain pounding against the grand windows of the ballroom filling the room.
Arlene stepped closer, her hand brushing over Azerâs curls. âWe need to find them,â she said softly, her worry now etched plainly on her face.
Helion nodded, his gaze moving toward the doors. âThey canât have gone far, even with the storm. Weâll keep searching.â
Alev, standing nearby, hesitated before adding, âIâll check the garden pathways again. Maybe they found cover somewhere.â
As the adults strategized, Azer turned his attention back to Azrielâs shadows, a tiny smile breaking through his lingering tears. His little hand swiped through the air again as he mumbled, âCome back, shadow. No hide!â
The sight of the toddlerâs innocent determination seemed to soften even the tension between the inner circle and the Vanserras, at least for a moment. But the storm outside raged on, a reminder that the ones they were all looking for were still nowhere to be found.
-----
The storm had turned the garden into a shimmering maze, the rain coming down in heavy sheets that drenched everything in its path. You ran through it, your laughter ringing out despite the chaos, your hand clasped tightly in Erisâs. The muddy ground squelched beneath your feet, and your gown, once pristine, clung to your body, the fabric soaked through.
Eris, his hair plastered to his forehead, glanced back at you, his golden eyes alight with amusement even as the rain poured down around you both. âYouâre going to ruin that dress,â he teased, though his own immaculate attire wasnât faring much better.
âBetter the dress than my ankles!â you shot back, already fumbling to pull off your soaked shoes. The delicate heels were no match for the slippery garden paths, and you nearly tripped as you tugged them free.
Eris caught you before you could fall, his strong hands steadying you as he grinned. âCareful, love. Iâd hate for you to twist an ankle before our grand re-entrance.â
You laughed breathlessly, finally kicking the shoes off and tossing them onto the wet grass. âI think itâs a little late for grand, donât you?â
Eris raised a brow, clearly unbothered by the state of your dishevelled appearance. âYou forget who youâre with.â His voice was low, teasing, and entirely too self-assured as he pulled you closer. âI can make anything grand.â
Rolling your eyes, you tugged him forward, your bare feet splashing through puddles as you both ran toward the faint glow of the ballroom ahead. The rain was relentless, but it only added to the thrill of the moment, each step a mix of wild abandon and shared laughter.
As you reached the edge of the gardens, the sound of music from the ballroom grew louder, mingling with the rhythm of the rain. You paused for a moment under the partial cover of a sprawling oak tree, catching your breath as Eris leaned down, his hands braced on his knees.
âYou know,â you panted, brushing wet strands of hair from your face, âwe probably look ridiculous.â
Eris straightened, his golden eyes gleaming despite the storm. âWe look like royalty,â he said smugly, though the grin tugging at his lips betrayed his amusement. âJust⌠slightly soggier than usual.â
You laughed, shaking your head as you grabbed his hand again. âCome on, Your Highness. Letâs get back inside before they send a search party.â
As you reached the edge of the gardens, the rain pelting down harder than ever, Eris tugged you back beneath the shelter of a sprawling oak tree. His golden eyes glimmered with mischief as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him.
âDo we really have to go back inside?â he murmured, his voice low and smooth, barely audible over the storm. âThe ballroomâs full of people Iâd rather avoid⌠and youâre far more interesting.â
Before you could respond, his lips found yours, warm and insistent despite the chill of the rain soaking through both your clothes. His hand slid up your back, fingers tangling in your damp hair as he kissed you with a fervour that made you momentarily forget the storm raging around you.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breathing uneven. âWhy donât we just stay out here?â he suggested, his tone teasing but his intent unmistakable. âThe rain, the grass⌠Itâs far better than listening to advisors drone on or exchanging pleasantries with people who donât matter.â
You couldnât help but laugh, though your teeth chattered from the cold. âEris, itâs freezing, and weâre both covered in muck. Look at us!â
He glanced down, his shirt clinging to his chest and the once-immaculate fabric smeared with dirt. His boots were caked with mud, and your gown was a waterlogged mess. He grinned, utterly unbothered. âWeâve looked worse. And I still think youâre stunning.â
You swatted at his chest, though it lacked any real force. âAs flattering as that is, Iâm not about to let my teeth chatter out of my skull just to indulge you.â
Eris sighed dramatically, though his grin remained. âYou ruin all my fun, you know that?â
You arched a brow, stepping back and tugging him toward the glowing lights of the ballroom. âCome on, High Lord. Letâs go before the muck starts seeping into places it shouldnât.â
Eris followed reluctantly, though his hand remained firmly clasped in yours. âFine,â he said, his tone half playful, half resigned. âBut donât think for a second that Iâm done with you tonight.â
You rolled your eyes, your heart still pounding from the intensity of his kiss. âYouâre insatiable,â you muttered, though the warmth in your chest betrayed how much you loved it.
âAnd youâre freezing,â he shot back with a smirk. âLetâs get you inside before you catch cold.â
The grand ballroom was alive with music and chatter as you and Eris entered, soaked from the rain and slightly dishevelled. The golden chandeliers cast a warm glow over the room, a stark contrast to the storm still raging outside. Water dripped from the hem of your dress, forming a small trail as you both walked further in. You reached up to smooth your hair, hoping to appear somewhat presentable, but Eris was already scanning the room, his sharp eyes cutting through the crowd.
It was then that his entire demeanour shifted. His gaze landed on Lucien, seated at a table near the far side of the ballroom, cradling a familiar bundle in his arms. Eris froze for a fraction of a second, his shoulders tensing before he took off in a sprint, leaving you to trail behind him, startled.
The inner circle, seated with Lucien and Azer, noticed Eris immediately. Cassian leaned back in his chair, exchanging a look with Rhysand and Feyre. Theyâd spent the past hour piecing together the puzzle of the little boy, thanks to Lucienâs quiet but firm explanation, but now they were about to witness the truth first-hand.
Eris reached Lucien in moments, his golden eyes darting over Azerâs tear-streaked face. Azer was clutching Lucienâs tunic with trembling fingers, his breaths coming in quick hiccups as his wide amber eyes filled with tears.
âDada!â Azer cried out, reaching for Eris with both arms. His voice cracked with the effort, his small body shaking as his emotions overwhelmed him.
Eris immediately knelt, his hands steady as he took Azer from Lucienâs arms. âShh, little firefox,â he murmured, his voice low and soothing despite the storm of worry in his gaze. âIâm here. Dadaâs here.â
Azer buried his face in Erisâs soaked chest, sobbing uncontrollably. His little fists clutched at Erisâs tunic, his cries muffled but heart-wrenching. The room seemed to shrink as the High Lord of Autumn cradled his son, his usual composed mask cracking just enough for those closest to see.
Lucien stood, his expression grim as he addressed Eris. âThere was a fire,â he explained quietly, his voice laced with both worry and frustration. âThe babysitter told him to step away, but⌠Azer lit the spark. His powers manifested for the first time.â
Erisâs jaw tightened, his pride momentarily overshadowed by the need to comfort his son. âHeâs alright?â he asked, his voice steady but low.
âHeâs fine,â Lucien assured him. âJust shaken. And terrified.â
Eris closed his eyes for a moment, pressing a kiss to Azerâs curls. âItâs okay, little one,â he whispered. âYouâre safe now. Youâre so brave.â
Azer tried to speak, but his words came out in broken sobs. âD-Dada⌠fire⌠Iââ
âShh,â Eris soothed, rubbing small circles on Azerâs back. âYou didnât do anything wrong. Youâre just like me, arenât you? Full of fire.â
The pride in his voice was subtle, carefully masked by his fatherly concern, but those who knew him well could hear it. Cassian and Azriel, who had been quietly observing, exchanged a glance before stepping forward.
âYouâll soak him through,â Azriel said, his voice calm as he shrugged off his jacket. Cassian did the same, handing theirs to Eris.
âWrap him in these,â Cassian added, his tone unusually soft.
Eris hesitated for a moment, his pride warring with practicality, before taking the jackets and wrapping them around Azerâs trembling form. The little boy clung to him, his cries quieting to soft hiccups as the warmth of the jackets and his fatherâs presence surrounded him.
The inner circle continued to watch, their expressions ranging from surprise to quiet understanding. This was not the cold, calculating High Lord they had expected. This was a fatherâprotective, proud, and deeply devoted to his son.
Rhysand leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful as he observed Eris murmuring soft reassurances to Azer. âI never thought Iâd see the day,â he said quietly, his voice just loud enough for Feyre to hear.
Feyre glanced at him, her lips curving into a faint smile. âThereâs more to him than we realized,â she said.
âClearly,â Rhysand replied, watching as Eris stood, cradling Azer close as if shielding him from the world.
The moment you spotted Eris standing with Azer wrapped in the jackets, your heart clenched. You ran toward them, your bare feet still damp from the rain, your gown dragging slightly behind you. The sight of your little boy nestled against his father, his tear-streaked face peeking out from the folds of fabric, was enough to quicken your pace.
As you reached them, you instinctively placed a hand on Erisâs arm, your gaze immediately falling to Azer. âWhat happened? Is he okay?â you asked breathlessly, brushing damp curls from your sonâs forehead.
âHeâs fine,â Eris assured you softly, his golden eyes meeting yours. âJust a little shaken. Heââ
Lucien cleared his throat, stepping forward. âIâll explain later,â he said, his voice low but steady. âHeâs alright now, though.â
It was then you noticed the table behind them, where a group of unfamiliar faces watched the interaction with curious and calculating eyes. You quickly straightened, smoothing your sodden dress as best you could.
âI donât think weâve met,â you said, addressing the group with a polite smile despite your racing heart. âIâm Y/N, Erisâs wife. Thank you for⌠for helping with Azer. It means more than you know.â
The High Lady of Night CourtâFeyre, you recognized her from Erisâs descriptionsâwas the first to speak. She stood, her expression warm and welcoming. âItâs lovely to meet you, Y/N,â she said. âYou have a beautiful family.â
You smiled, a touch nervously, as the others introduced themselves: Rhysand, Azriel, Cassian, and Mor. Their gazes flicked between you, Eris, and Azer, a mix of curiosity and guarded interest in their eyes.
Azer squirmed slightly in Erisâs arms, his small hand reaching out for you. âMama,â he mumbled, his voice still thick from crying.
You took him gently, cradling him close as he rested his head on your shoulder. His little body relaxed almost immediately in your embrace, though his pout remained firmly in place.
âThis is a boring ball,â he mumbled, his tone disgruntled.
The room went silent for a beat before laughter rippled through the group. Even Eris let out a low chuckle, his hand resting on your back as you shook your head, biting back a smile.
âWell,â you said, kissing the top of Azerâs head, âheâs not wrong.â
Cassian grinned, leaning back in his chair. âI like this kid,â he said, earning a glare from Eris that only made him smirk wider.
Azer peeked up from your shoulder, his amber eyes still wet but curious as they scanned the group. He gave a little sniffle, then buried his face back against you with a contented sigh.
âThank you,â you said again, your voice softer now as you looked at the group. âFor everything.â
Feyre smiled warmly. âHeâs lucky to have you both.â
You nodded, your heart swelling as you looked down at Azer. Despite the chaos of the night, everything felt a little more steady now with him in your arms.
#eris vanserra#eris x reader#eris acotar#eris x you#eris x y/n#autumn court#eris fanfic#eris imagine#eris vanserra x reader#eris vanserra x you#eris vanserra acotar#eris vanserra fic#acotar x reader#acotar#acotar x you#a court of thorns and roses#eris vandaddy#eris fic#acotar fics
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Whoever decided to ring her doorbell in the middle of a midnight thunderstorm was either a serial killer or a poor soul stuck out in the rain. Either way, she still felt sorry enough for whatever poor bastard was stuck outside and decided to open the door, but her expression dropped into annoyance when she saw the man leaning against the doorframe.
âHey,â he murmurs, gazing at her. âLong time no see.â She starts to close the door and he sticks his foot in it. âWait, please, donât close me out.â
âLike you did to me,â she retorts, opening the door. âWhat do you want, Simon?â
He glances back towards the rainy street and hefts his rucksack higher on his shoulder. âTo stay the night.â
âSeriously?â
âPlease?â He begs and she pausesâSimon Riley wasnât a man who begged often.
She gazes at him a moment longer before sighing and opening the door. âClothes and shoes off at the door. Mask too. Youâre soaking wet.â
âWhat gave you that âint? The rainstorm?â
Turning, she shoots him a glare. âIâm letting you stay the night despite you breaking my heart. Iâd be a little less sarcastic.â
âSorry,â he mutters, starting to strip his clothes as he shuts the door behind him. He hands her his clothes, standing in his boxers, then cups the front of himself and asks. âYou wouldnât happen to have any of my clothes shoved in the back of your closetâŚwould you?â
âBottom drawer in the chest of drawers.â
âYou kept my clothes? Aw, you still carââ he falls silent when she glares at him. âGoing now.â
As she disappears into the laundry room, she calls out, âWhat did you do, walk here from the base? You know Birmingham has cabbies, right?â
âIâm not wasting money to drive twenty minutes when I can walk within an hour.â
âYou know youâll get sick from this.â
âWiveâs tale. Canât get sick from the rain.â
âSmart-ass,â she retorts, shoving his clothes in the dryer.
He comes around the corner, leaning against the doorway with a hand towel thrown over his shoulder, short blonde hair sticking up in all directions, evident heâd dried off with it.
âThat is a decorative towel, not for use.â She glares at him. âYou know that too.â
âYou moved the other towels.â
âOh, for godâs sake,â she mutters, then looks at him, eyes trailing down to where the sweatpants hung low on his hips. âPut a fucking shirt on, floozy.â
âI couldnât find one,â he replies with a small smirk. âYou mustâve used âem for fuel for the fireplace.â
She stands up straight and walks up to him. âWhy are you here, Simon?â Her voice is quiet, calm, waiting.
He looks down at his feet, shifts his weight and murmurs, âMissed you.â
âYou left me.â
âI know.â
âYou start going to therapy yet?â She asks and he purses his lips.
âSAS doesnât exactly offer therapy, yâknow that, right? Not exactly âow we operate.â
She crosses her arms over her chest. âYou know I asked that friend of yours, what was his name? Soap? He said that the SAS offers routine psychiatric care and therapy. He also happened to mention you conveniently manage to get out of it every single time.â
Simon lets out a grunt and pinches his brow. âSoap canât mind âis own fuckinâ business.â
âHeâs your friend. And he was also drunk.â She waves a hand. âRegardless, you havenât done the one thing I told you that you would have to do if you wanted to come backâno, when you came crawling back.â
âI donât need therapy. I just want a second chance.â He shifts to his full height, looks at her with a pleading look. âThings were good between us, love. You know they were.â
âSure, when you werenât shutting down when you were hurting emotionally or running off to God knows where when you had a mission and didnât leave me a notice.â
Simon sighs. âI was protectinâ you. I didnât wanna drag you into all the shit I âave to deal with on a daily. I didnât want you to have to put up withâŚall ofâŚâ
She gives him a hard look. âSimon Riley, what part of me gave you the notion that I ever need to be protected or sheltered from what you do?â
He swallows thickly and gazes into her eyes. âLoveâŚyouâre too pure for me. What I doâŚyou donât need to know the horrors Iâve committed. YouâreâŚyouâre too beautiful for such things.â
âYou mean how you kill people with no emotion? How youâve taken lives with your bare hands? How you shove so much of yourself down into the black hole until thereâs no humanity left but âGhostâ, the hollow killer?â
Simon stares at her, throat bobbing as he replies, âI canât drag you to hell with me, it would kill me, love. What ifââ
âDo you know the moment I knew I was in love with you?â She interrupts and he falls silent. âI was sick that one day a year ago, bad sick. And you told me not to go into work, but I didnât listen and when I came home early, I could barely walk straight.â She places a hand on her hip. âAnd you helped me into the bathroom. Ran a bath in the dark, lit a few candles and you bathed me. Washed my hair. Took care of me. You were so gentle and so loving. Like a priest tasked with cleaning his alter, you cleansed me and made me feel safe.â
He shifts uncomfortably but his body language is anything but repulsed; itâs soft. âYou started cryinâ when I was washinâ your hair. Thought I got soap in your eyes. But you said you just felt so loved.â He smiles then. âYou were like a kitten really. Could barely lift your head. So tired and weak.â
âMhm. And then you tucked me into bed and crawled beneath the covers with me. Laid up beside me, never once acted sexual. JustâŚcaring.â She looks at him. âDo you remember what I said to you before I went to sleep?â
âNo,â he mutters but he looks up at the ceiling and she knows heâs lying, itâs his tell-tale sign.
She gives him the benefit of the doubt and closes the distance between them, lays her hands on his chest, and says, âI said, âThis is the real man beneath all that coldness. The real Simon. The one I knew I loved more than anything. No matter what.ââ
Simon shudders beneath her touch, feels weak in his knees like he might drop to his and worship at her feet, beg for forgiveness like a sinner in confession. His chest aches, tightening as the words tear violently at his chest, a reminder that he left one of the only good things to ever come into his life, all because he was too afraid to let the walls come down, too afraid to be vulnerable, too afraid to risk being hurtâbecause if she hurt him, heâd never come back from it. In the end, heâd felt like a fool trying to protect a damsel who never needed saving in the first place; and he was left with the realization that sheâd been protecting him the entire time.
âI know what you do, Simon. I know itâs hard, even if you donât think it is. I know that no matter how you push your humanity down into that hole that itâs still there. I know killing someone takes something from you every time but, Simon, Iâm not your enemy. I love you.â Her eyes are calm, but her voice is firm. âAnd I will not stand on the outside of the lines under some guise of protection. You either be upfront and honest with me about everything or you leave, and you donât come back.â
Simon knows sheâs asking him to choose now, and he feels that creeping anxiety rise in his throat like bile until he manages, âCanâŚcan we talk about everything in the morning?â
She sighs and pulls her hands away. âYeah, I guess so. Sheets and blankets are in the hall closet. You know where the couch is.â
âYouâre not going to let me sleep in the bed?â He sounds incredibly offended.
âCouch, Riley.â
âYeah, yeah,â he grumbles, but he canât help but smile when she sets the bedding out on the couch for him. âGoodnight, love,â he murmurs as she passes, and her shoulders tense and she waves a hand.
âGoodnight, Simon.â
He sits on the couch for a few moments, watches the rain splatter against the window, the clock ticking on the wall, before he pulls out his phone and simply types, âI love you,â and sends it.
Itâs quiet for a solid ten seconds before he hears, âYou absolute bastard!â From the bedroom followed by, âGet in here!â
Simon gives a victory dance as he clears his throat and attempts to look innocent as he steps into her bedroom; she glowers and points to the other side. âYouâre on that side.â
âYou can make me,â he retorts and crawls into the middle of the bed, groaning when all the bones in his body snap and pop.
She rolls her eyes and goes back to her book, but after a moment, she shifts against the headboard, getting comfortable again. Simon lifts his head, watches her, then he moves and lays his head in her lap, his arms wrapped around her hips under the pillows behind her. Her eyes rise to the wall in front of her and she stares unamusedly at it before she switches the book into her other hand and rests her right hand at the back of his neck, gently thumbing the juncture of his spine and skull. He groans beneath her touch, shifts himself so that she has control over moving him, body going slack when she scratches her nails into his scalp.
âYouâre like a cat,â she mutters, feeling his lips turn up against her thigh.
âMeow,â he mimics, and she snorts, feeling him move until his head is pressed into her stomach, face turned so she can see the right profile.
He watches until she puts the book down on her nightstand and turns into him; they gaze at each other, and his eyes gently shut when she cups his face, thumbs brushing over his features.
âYou know Iâm giving you another chance, donât you?â
Simon swallows the lump in his throat and nods. ââŚyeah.â
âBut weâve gotta change. Or else weâll end up back where we were before we broke up.â
âI know.â He opens his eyes and looks at her. âIâve missed you, love.â
âIâve missed you too,â she murmurs, bending down to press her lips to his forehead. âDoesnât feel the same without you haunting my apartment.â
His lips turn up in a smile as she pulls back and lays on the pillows; Simon rises and crawls up her body, his nose brushing hers as he whispers, âIâll do better for you. Iâll change. I swear it.â
âYeah?â
His gaze turns solemn in a way sheâs never seen before as he replies, âOn their grave, I will.â
She smiles softly at him, pulls him down so his face is tucked in her neck, and replies, âGet some sleep.â
âI love you,â he mutters against her warm skin, arms tucked safely around her, body weight comfortably on her. âI love you more than the world.â
âI love you,â she says back, reaching up to turn off the lamp on the nightstand.
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader imagines#simon ghost riley x reader imagine#simon ghost riley imagines#simon ghost riley imagine#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x reader imagines#simon riley x reader imagine#simon riley imagines#simon riley imagine#simon riley#ghost x reader#ghost x reader imagines#ghost x reader imagine#ghost imagines#ghost imagine#ghost#cod imagines#cod imagine#cod#call of duty imagines#call of duty imagine#call of duty
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I've been lookin for a writer who takes reqs for lnds đ Can i req sfw hcs/one-shot (choose which one u prefer more) for sylus & fem/gn reader?
I remember there was one call for zayne x mc where mc called zayne accidentally because mc was drunk & mc called zayne (accidentally) instead of booking a cab (mc did book a cab but w/ a wrong destination).
Can i maybe req what if the scenario is like that but it's w/ sylus instead? Feel free to tell me if this req is too much or if u wanna decline it, thanks a lot!
My first Sylus fic! Yay! (Don't look at me Rafayel đĽ°) Anon your mind is so powerful! This prompt was so much fun to write, so thank you, hope you enjoy!
Wrong Number
Sylus x Reader đЏ

Summary: You're having a bit of trouble getting hold of that taxi you booked, but more trouble help is on the way...
Genre: fluff, kinda ends on an angsty note (sorry đ)
Warnings/Additional tags: drunk reader, some swearing, humour, uses of 'sweetie' and 'kitten', threat of violence/death at the start, a slight bit of suggestion (it's Sylus, ok? He's having â¨funâ¨)
| Word count: 2k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!
âMr. Sylus, please! It was an honest mistakeâ almost indistinguishable from a genuine protocore, I swear!â
Sylus is lounging back in a plush leather armchair, feeling thoroughly short-changed as he turns about a fake protocore with his fingers. Heâs been listening to this noise for almost a full minute, growing awfully impatient, though he did like the last excuse.
âSay that again,â he drawls with a sinister smile.
âIt was an honest mistake,â the black-market dealer stutters, tripping over his words. âIt was almost indistinguishable from aââ
âAlmost indistinguishableâŚâ Sylus confirms. âAlmost. Almost.â Heâs savouring each syllableâ tasting them like wine.
âIt would have fooled almost anyone!â
âAlmost anyone?â Sylus laughs, and itâs a wicked, dangerous thing. âWell yes, I rather think thatâs the point. But it didnât fool just anyone, did it? It fooled you.â
His smile is gone in an instant, his hand closing around the fake protocore, splintering it with a crack. He drops bloodied, sapphire fragments from his palm, red and blue, red and blue, and they skitter across the hardwood floor like rain.
âPlease, Mr. Sylus!â the dealer pleads, desperate. âIâll do anything! I will! Iâll make it up to you!â
âNo, thanks.â Sylus studies his palm as it heals. âIâve had my fill of fake protocores.â
âSylus!â
The leader of Onychinus stands, drawing his gun with a customary apathy. Dark energy manifests, twisting around the dealerâs limbs, holding him still, while a lone tendril crawls around his mouth, holding him silent. Heâs struggling, but he should know better. He should have known better from the very beginning. With a wistful smile, Sylus levels the gun with his head, andâ
Something rings.
His red gaze shoots up, instinctively seeking Luke and Kieran, but they shrug from their station at the other side of the room. The sound is closer than that, anyway. Glaringly more familiar. Sylusâs spare hand goes to his pocket, and he draws out his phone.
âMmm?â he greets, thumb sliding across the screen as he puts it to his ear.
Thereâs only one person who calls him at this time of night.
âWhere are you?â your voice echoes from the other side of the line.
âThatâs a question I prefer not to answer without knowing what motivates it.â
âWhaâ Sylus?â
âYes, sweetie,â he drones.
Thereâs a moment of silence. âShit.â
Itâs not the reaction he aspires to, but you sound agitated, so heâs going to let it slide. Thereâs a loud crackle from the speaker, followed by a few, harsher sounds, and he pulls the phone away from his ear, wincing slightly. His eyes are trained on the man at his feet, but he lowers his gun, distracted.
âWhat are youââ he begins, but then he identifies the sound. Itâs a fingerâ your fingerâ jabbing away at a screen. âIf I didnât know any better, Miss Hunter, Iâd say you were trying to get rid of me.â
âNoâŚâ you deny too quickly. Itâs still there: the tapping. Like Mephisto, pecking furiously at a locked window from outside. A few more jabs, and thenâŚ
The call cuts out.
Sylus scoffs, looking down at his now silent phone in disbelief. He flops back into his chair, tossing his gun onto a side table before hitting the button to call you back. You know heâs not a patient man, but you donât pick up the first time, and so he has to try again. He can be patient for youâ he tells himselfâ as he thinks up some creative ways for you to return the charity. Speaking of charityâŚ
His gaze drops to the dealer. âGet out,â he sneers.
The man doesnât have to be told twice. He scrambles to his feet as his blood-dark bindings retract, practically throwing himself towards the roomâs exit. Luke pushes open the door, the intense music of the nightclub beating through the gap, but Kieranâs being less helpful. He steps into the doorway, blocking any escape. He feints right. Then left. Behind the masks, both men are laughing.
Eventually Kieran steps aside. He shoves the dealer the rest of the way through the door as Luke kicks it shut, and they exchange a high-five.
Sylus pinches the bridge of his nose. His call connects.
âHello?â Youâre back. âFinally! Where are you? I donât see you.â
âStill me, sweetie.â
âSylus?â you actually whine. Itâs adorable. âWhy is it you? Go away.â
âNo,â he lilts tunefully, and then heâs coaxing: âI want to help you, kitten. Wonât you let me help you? Tell me, who are you trying to call?â
Frustration spills from youâ fake, exaggerated sobs tearing themselves from your throat. âThe taxi, Sy,â you whine again. âThe stupid taxi, okay? Itâs not here. Itâs meant to be here.â
âWhereâs here?â
âHa!â you exclaim like youâve evaded a masterplan, and not a casually asked, run-of-the-mill question. âNo. Nice try, but no. You wanna help me?â
âYeah.â
âThen leave me alone!â
Withâ he can imagineâ some sort of theatrical flourish, you deliver your phone a final, decisive tap. It beckons a fateful silence. Sylus brings his phone in front of his face, unmoved by the momentâs gravitas. Thereâs a pop-up on the screen. Kitten: requesting video chat.
He smiles to himself. Then accepts. âHi sweetie.â
Your face is lighting up his screen, your cheeks flushed, your brow furrowed, and your eyes sharp with determination. âWhy can Iâ wait, why can I see you? Get out of my phone, Sy!â
âMy, my,â he tuts, but heâs smiling still, âlook at youâ the illustrious Miss Hunter. It is a relief to know the fate of Linkon rests in such⌠reliable hands.â
âWhat dâyou mean?â you mumble.
âYouâre drunk.â
âYouâre drunk!â
He chuckles. âAnd thereâs that infamous wit.â
You bite your lip as you ignore him, still fixated on trying to end the call. It occurs to him that you will eventually succeed; even a broken clock is right twice a day. âListen to me, sweetie. Are you alone?â
His tone is sober enough for the two of you, and your exasperated eyes meet his. âYeah.â
âThen be a good girl and send me your location. You remember how to do that, right?â He carefully enunciates each word of his plan. âIâll come and get you, but I need to know where you are. Donât go with anyone else. Wait for me, okay?â
Youâre nodding away, the odd âmmhmmâ escaping your lips, but youâre not at all listening. He catches on after a minute. Trails offâ realises your gaze is too vacant, and your focus? Wandering. Youâre cradling your phone with both hands. His view is interrupted as your thumb passes over the camera; youâre⌠stroking the screen?
âYouâre so pretty, Sy,â you murmur breathlessly.
His gaze softens. He sighs, âYouâre pretty too.â
Then you make a sound heâs never heard before: you squeak, the phoneâs audio almost cutting out. A blush is spreading through your cheeks, so much darker than the alcoholâs afterglow, and gods he wishes your face was in his hands. The vision is short-lived, however, because suddenly youâre gone.
Thereâs a circling view of a dark street, split by streaks of white light, as your phone careens through the air. It strikes concrete a moment later, stuttering to a stop, and Sylusâs grimace deepens with each jarring crack. Your screen has gone black, but he doesnât think itâs broken. Heâs face down, apparentlyâ subjected to an unexciting view of the pavement.
âOh, shit!â He hears you gasp.
Though your voice is far away, your phone is in your grasp again in no time. Youâre turning it over, peering down at him, tracing the outline of his face with worry. âSorry, Sy. Are you okay?â
âIâll survive.â He raises an eyebrow. âYou know, if you wanted to throw me around, you only needed to ask.â
His voice has dropped, and he loves watching you notice. You stand from your crouch with a smirk, bringing him with youâ a dark idea in your eyes. âWanna go again?â
Before he can protest, heâs looking at the back of your head. Your arm is stretched behind you, gearing up to send him on another short flight.
âAh, ah, ah,â he interrupts, panicking briefly, but youâd never detect it with all your wits about you, let alone none. Heâs brought in front of your face again, and youâre frowning oh so sweetly. âI asked you to do something, remember?â
âYou told me to do something.â
So pedantic. âWhat did I tell you to do, sweetie?â
You donât say anything. Thereâs a short huff as you blow hair from your face, and then youâre concentrating. You have that look he likes: the one you get when youâre whittling away at your paperwork like a good little hunter. The same stubborn resolve, too, that makes you lean over it when he or Mephisto are conveniently behind your shoulder.
Your location comes through with a ping and his smile widens. Heâs up in a heartbeat, telling you heâs on his wayâ that you did such a good jobâ and that you need to stay on the phone with him, okay? He spins his fingers as he passes between Luke and Kieran, a gesture theyâve long grown accustomed to and can easily translate.
I'm leaving. Clean this up.
âŚ
âSo then Xavier, likeâ well, you know Xavierâ he was all, âIâll tell you later,â but he never did, Sy! Off he went, leaving Nero and I to do all the paperwork, and I asked Nero, and Nero was like, âask Xavier yourselfâ, and I was like, âI literally just did!â, and he just shrugged, and itâs⌠driving me crazy, you know? Because where does he even go? Tara and I have this bet going, she thinks itâs because heââ
Your anecdote comes to a sudden stop.
âWhat does Tara think, sweetie?â
âShh shh shh! Wait a secondâŚâ
You clutch your phone to your chest like itâll somehow suppress Sylusâs voice. Youâre sat, leaning back against a chain-link fence, but you rise as a black car pulls up in front of you. The windows are tinted. You squint, leaning forward to try to look through them anyway.
âI donât like this, Sy,â you frown as you plant a hand on your hip. âThereâs a car here.â
âOh?â
âShh!â you hiss again. Itâs not the only car parked on the street, but it is the only one alive. The engine purrs and its lights are glowing like angry embers, refusing to be snuffed out by the dark. You take a step closer, then the engine cuts out. You take a bigger step back.
âWhat exactly are you afraid of?â Sylus asks, his tone so thick itâs practically bleeding through your phone. âIs a big, bad man trying to get you?â
âWell I donât know what they look like, Sy. The windows are tinted, and Iâ AH!â you gasp. Â
A strong pair of arms wrap around you from behind, lifting you from the ground. âGot you, sweetie,â Sylus chuckles in your ear as tell-tale crow feathers settle around you. His breath is hot on your neck and it tickles, turning your panicked shrieks to laughter.
âSylus!â you squeal as you attempt to wriggle free. You donât think youâre trying very hard.
The man lowers you back to your feet, but his arms stay around you and he dips his head, resting his chin on the curve of your shoulder. âHi,â he whispers.
âHi.â For a little word, thereâs so much fondness.
âLetâs get you home to bed, okay?â
You nod compliantly with a yawn, swaying a little as his arms retract and youâre having to stand on your own again. He chuckles as he steadies youâ placing a hand on the top of your headâ and you pivot, drawn by the sound. His crimson eyes find yours and theyâre dark with something that stirs you, even with your mind swimming and nothing really making sense. Youâre not sure of anything at all, exceptâ
No-one has ever looked at you like that before.
And you wonât remember it tomorrow.
âCome on,â he prompts, nudging you towards the car, and you start to walk, though youâre dragging your feet. âI want to hear all of the associationâs dirtiest secrets while I still can.â
âTara has a crush on the new weapon specialist, you know.â
Sylus blinks, then laughsâ a tender, comfortable thing. Completely enthralled. âYou donât say,â he beams.
No, you wonât remember it tomorrow.
#đrach is actually writing#sylus x reader#sylus#love and deepspace#lads sylus#lnds sylus#l&ds sylus#qin che#sylus x mc#sylus x you#lads x reader#lads#lnds#l&ds
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bookworm blurb
pairing: bookworm!reader x rafe
synopsis: youâre trying to read your book but a certain someone canât help but distract you
warnings: fluff, smut, daddy kink, pet names, MDNI

something about books always calmed you down. you were an anxious mess ninety nine percent of the time but reading always helped shut your mind off. it made you stop thinking about all the what ifs and kept you from overthinking. you could get so into a book sometimes hours would pass when in felt like only minutes. you could completely focus in on the words on the page and completely forget everything around you. which is why you didnât notice him standing there watching you.
rafe thought it was cute how you could talk about books all day. he didnât have the attention span to read that much but he always admired you for it. the way your face would light up when you discovered a new favorite. sometimes you would even cry when one of your favorite characters died. he hated when you cried of course but he found it so fucking endearing how connected you could be to these characters.
he shook his head and slowly walked towards you. your stomach was against the cushions, you knees bent with you feet in the air. your hair in a messy ponytail on the cusp of falling out. theyâd spent the whole day home. the weather outside one of those rare cold, rainy days. you always said you loved listening to the rain as you read. it was the perfect background noise.
âhey sweetheart.â
you jumped, quickly closing your book. a blush already rising on your cheeks. you knew you shouldnât be embarrassed but you always were. your thighs rubbed together as you turned your head to look up at him.
âyou scared me!â you let out a laugh as you made to get up but his hands pushed your back down. âwhatâre you doinâ? donât you wanna sit with me?â
â âcourse I wanna. but you look comfy, keep reading I just wanted to see you.â
he lifted your legs and slid under you. his hands immediately going to massage your thighs. he could never keep his hands off you for long. Whether it was holding your hand or playing with your hair.
you went back to your book. quickly getting immersed in the words again. it wasnât uncommon for rafe to sit with you while you read. his hands mindlessly rubbing up and down. occasionally his fingers would drift a little too far up. fingertips grazing your underwear. you hadnât bothered getting dressed this morning. simply throwing on a shirt and pair of panties.
youâre not sure how long has passed but you were a little more then halfway done with your book.
âbaby?â his fingers stopped just below your underwear. tracing the fabrics edges but never straying to your center.
âhmm?â
he knew what he was doing. youâd manage to block him out for the most part. but heâs been getting touchier the longer you read.
âyouâre so pretty.â both his hands came up to squeeze your ass and you let out a little moan.
your face was burning. youâd been together for a while now but youâd never get used to this. his words. his touch.
âmy pretty girl. youâre reading one of those scenes arenât you? think i didnât notice you clenching your thighs? donât know why you read âem when iâm right here.â
you were dripping. it only took a few words and touches from him to have you soaking through your underwear. you tucked your face into your arms. your book falling onto the floor with a little thump.
âso wet. this for me or your little book?â his fingers were teasing. dragging back and forth over the material separating you from him. the material thin. his fingertips catching on your entrance every so often.
âfor y-you. always for you.â god he was barely even touching you and you were a panting mess. âplease rafe.â
his fingers stopped. his warmth gone in an instant. your head popped up about to ask why he stopped before you felt a sharp sting on your ass.
âtsk tsk. what did i say about you calling me that? try again sweetheart.â
his hand was massaging you over where he slapped. the skin sure to have a pink mark.
âp-please daddy. teasing too much.â you were shocked when he first asked you to call him that. you didnât realize youâd liked it until you were a moaning mess beneath him, the word slipping out like youâd said it thousands of times before.
âsee? that wasnât so hard baby was it.â
your thighs clenched with his words. his voice alone could make you wet. he knew how to talk in a way that had you melt against him.
âyou want my fingers sweet girl? your bodyâs tellin me ya do. so wet fâme. i donât know why you bother wearing these. âm just gonna take them off.â
sure enough you felt him pulling the fabric down your thighs. you flushed as you felt your wetness trailing down your leg. his fingers coming back up to rub you. trailing up and down your slit. his fingernails catching on your clit making you whine.
âdaddy. please.â
you could feel his gaze on you. youâd imagine a smirk lining his lips. you could feel how hard heâd become beneath you. the sweatpants leaving little to the imagination. your hips trying to rub up against him.
âso needy. câmon baby i wanna hear you say it.â
your face was flushed. you could feel sweat dripping down your neck. his fingers avoiding the one spot you needed him to touch.
âplease. p-please fuck me with your fingers.â
his middle and pointer finger immediately dipped into you. you were so wet there wasnât even any resistance.
âyes. yes. ohmygodplease.â
before youâd met him youâd tried touching yourself. but your fingers were too slim. too short to reach that one spot inside of you. rafeâs the first one to make you cum. his fingers thick and long enough that he barely has to try.
you hear him chuckle. his fingers dragging against your walls. in and out. in and out.
âgod baby. youâre dripping down my fingers. feel good yeah? i can feel you gripping me. so fucking tight.â
he lets out a groan as your walls squeeze him. youâre so close. so fucking close. tears brim your eyes and you canât help but buck against his fingers chasing that feeling. your stomachs tightening and youâre so close you slam your eyes shut. whining and moaning incoherent words. all you can feel is his rough fingers slamming inside you.
âgod please iâm about to cum. please i-i need-â
âdonât worry baby. i know what you need.â
his thumb finds your clit. running tight and fast. you throw you head back.
âohmyfuckinggodâ
you feel that spot in your stomach snap. stars dance behind your eyelids as your body slumps on the couch.
you feel him move beneath you. heâs so hard beneath you it makes you whimper at the thought of how he feels inside you.
rafeâs hand, the one he wasnât using, comes and and grabs your head. tilting your face to look at him.
âeyes on me baby. there she is.â
youâre blinking. your eyelids fighting the heaviness that weighs down your body. yet you feel your body clench as you watch him lick you off his fingers. his eyes never leaving yours.
you feel yourself dripping onto him. no doubt leaving a wet patch on his pants.
âso fucking sweet. here, taste yourself. lick my fingers clean.â
you weakly lean forward and take his fingers in your mouth. gagging slightly as he pushes them in farther.
âthere you go. good girl, cleaninâ me up so well.â
um so hi. this is my first attempt at smut and omg what do you think.
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x reader#rafe x you#outerbanks rafe#obx#outer banks#outer banks fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe fanfiction#rafe imagine#rafe fic
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sweet treat 2

construction worker!rafe who spends his days âlifting heavy stuff and building shitâ and driving shy!reader home, shows up on her doorstep in the middle of the night...
c/w: fluff, smut: slight somnophilia, dry humping, p-in-v, 18+ mdni!
wc: 2.7k
so this story was supposed to be just a small drabble consisting of a few silly sentences but then i got a bit carried away..
series masterlist
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Itâs past midnight when her doorbell rings, making her brows furrow. She throws the fluffy covers away, immediately yearning for the warmth of them as she pads her bare feet along the chilly hardwood floors of her apartment. Â
No one has ever been at her door this late, which makes her hesitate. Maybe itâs just her neighbor asking for sugar, she tries to reason, as if the retired elderly lady living next door would even be up this late. For all she knows, it could be a criminal whoâs escaped prison, holding a bloody knife at her.Â
Curiosity ends up getting the best of her (as always) when she gingerly opens the door, mentally preparing to face a serial killer.
However, all her worries wash away like pollen under rain when she realizes itâs Rafe standing tall before her.Â
âOh, hi. What are youâ what are you doing here?â a surprised look paints over her countenance. Â
âYou forgot this in my car, thought you might want it back,â he smiles, holding out a phone to her, the pale yellow case making her realize itâs her phone. She almost doesnât recognize it, since it appears so tiny in his massive paw, almost like a miniature version of the device sheâs grown accustomed to. Â
âOh my god, I was looking everywhere for it, thought I was gonna have to buy a new one,â she takes it from him, a grateful smile etching her features. Â
âYeah, couldnât exactly call,â he shakes his head at his terrible attempt at a joke.Â
A delighted giggle escapes her throat, nonetheless, eyes crinkling and teeth poking out; forcing the corners of his mouth to lift up as well as he finally takes in her appearance; a worn-out t-shirt a few sizes too big andâŚwell, thatâs it.
Sheâs not wearing anything else and heâs trying his hardest not to stare at her plush thighs, or the way the hem of the shirt slightly climbs up, revealing even more skin as she rakes a hand through a messy head of hair.
She swallows nervously under his attention. Â
Unfortunately for the both of them, he never ended up doing anything when she came over to his place last week and had him cook for her. He just felt so bad about initiating something like that when she kept yawning through forkfuls of pasta, eyes barely staying open as she complained about her limbs aching and how she was so exhausted she could sleep for an entire week after the particularly long shift sheâd had. Â
Which is why he simply drove her home after their late-night dinner and wished her a good night with a heavy hand on her shoulder before letting her get some much needed rest, telling himself he could be patient.
However, sheâs not making it very easy for him when thereâs only one piece of clothing covering her at the momentâ she looks so sleepy and pretty he has half the mind to pick her up in his arms right now and slump down on her bed, crawl under crisp sheets and feel her lungs expand against his chest. Â
âUh, sorry, did I wake you?â he asks, suddenly worried heâs disturbed her serene slumber. Â
âNo, no. I mean, I was in bed but couldnât really sleep soâŚâ she trails off, desperately trying to come up with something to make him stay a bit longer; finding immense comfort in his assured presence. Â
âUm, do youâ do you want to come in? I could make you some tea or something?â she clumsily offers, not wanting him to go just yet.
His brows raise in surprise because sheâs being uncharacteristically bold, making his mouth twist in amusement.Â
âActually, forget I said anything, youâre probably really tired and jusâ wanna go home, sorry, donât know why I evenââ she scrambles to correct herself, and now that sounds more like the girl Rafeâs grown accustomed to. Â
âNah, of course Iâll come in,â he cuts her off, stepping past the threshold before taking a look around her cozy home; picturesque paintings fixed on the cream-colored walls and leafy plants adding greenery to the small space. Itâs cute, he thinks. Â
She sets a steaming mug in front of him when he takes a seat around the kitchen table. And when she sits down on a chair next to him, he canât help but stare at the way the bottom of her shirt rides up, revealing the tops of her thighs and allowing for the flimsy material of her panties to peek out.
He clears his throat. Â
âYou, uh, you have trouble sleeping a lot?â he tries to focus on something else, anything else while taking a quick sip of the searing liquid; nearly burning his tongue in the process. Â
âYeahâŚsometimes itâs jusâ kinda hard to shut my brain off after spending all day at the cafe. Like I try to close my eyes, but then the loud voices of customers and the clinking of plates keep replaying in my head and suddenly mâwide awake, you know?â
âIs there anything that helps?â he prods. Â
âUm, I donât know, I guess jusâ trying to think of something else or talking with someone else,â she mumbles out.Â
âOh yeah? So, what youâre sayinâ is that youâre just usinâ me right now in order to fall asleep?â he teases, grinning when he manages to drag out another giggle from her. Â
âGuess I am,â her eyes glimmer like little stars when she blinks up at him. Â
âShould I feel offended right now?â he jokingly huffs. Â
âNo, you should feel flattered, I donât invite just anyone into my home at almost 1 am, just so you know.âÂ
He thinks he likes this side of her, all playful and sleepy; a lot less reserved than her usual fully rested and overly conscious self, more carefree. Maybe thatâs the reason he lets the next words escape his tongue.
âYou, uh, you into cuddling?â he asks, noticing how her eyes round out in surprise.
âUhâ I mean, probably if I had someone to cuddle with, but I donât soâŚâ she drifts off, not sure how to respond.Â
âWanna cuddle with me?â he says it so nonchalantly, and she doesnât understand how heâs so indifferent about this whole situation when she feels almost dizzy; dazed mind reeling and her vivid heart tingling in her ribcage.Â
âYou, umâŚyou want to? But wouldnât it be weird?â
âWhy the fuck would it be weird? I mean, weâre friends, right?â his brows crease.Â
âYes, of course we are, I justââÂ
âLook, all mâsayinâ is that it might help you sleep, yeah? Having somethinâ else to focus on ân shit,â he reasons, making her realize sheâs totally overthinking this when heâs simply trying to help. Â
âYouâre right, yeah, we should do that then,â she agrees before swiftly getting up on wobbly feetânearly falling face first on the ground, if not for his strong grip on her waist steadying her, drawing a faint gasp from the back of her throat at the sudden proximity. Â
âEasy there, sweetheart,â he chuckles, finding her eagerness to get into bed with him rather amusing. Â
âSorry,â she mumbles, a raspberry hue dusting over her cheeks. Â
And thatâs how they end up tangled in each other under her soft sheets, his beefy arms wrapped tightly around her middleâ caging her in with mindless fingers toying with the hem of her shirt. His sturdy chest rises and falls against her back in tandem with his steady breaths, pacifying her; coaxing her heavy lids to flutter shut. Â
âYou good?â he murmurs into her hair.
âMhm,â she blissfully hums, letting out a content exhale because heâs so warm and bigâ making her feel so secure and safe she thinks she wouldnât mind doing this again. Â
Soon, her mind begins to topple over the edge of reality, plummeting into oblivion; a far away dreamland where everything is upside down and the ether is evermore the shade of fluffy cotton candy. Â
âSweet dreamsâ is the last thing her misty awareness grasps onto before sheâs in the tender embrace of a place where the sand consists of stardust and ecstasy.
- - - - - - - - - - -
Sheâs lethargic in her movements when she stirs from the abstruse blankness she seems to have lost herself in with Rafeâs heavy arm is draped over her waist, trapping her body into his.
The lines of her cerebrum are blurred and sheâs not sure what woke her up because itâs still murky in her unlit bedroomâ the pale moonlight gleaming through the slots of her curtains the only beacon illuminating the space.
Then, she feels it; something poking her from behind, pressing against her ass.
Thereâs a crinkle in her brow until her eyes widen in realization. Heâs hard.
Rafe is hard and she can practically feel the culprit of his excitement since heâs only wearing a pair of boxers, having complained about getting all too hot during the night to wear anything more.Â
She swallows. Â
What is she supposed to do?Â
She shifts against him, trying to untangle her limbs from his. However, her attempt is proved fruitless when instead of unchaining her, he lets out a low rumbleâ his grip only tightening around her smaller form. Â
âRafe?â she calls out.Â
No response. Â
âRafe? Wake up.â Â
Still nothing.Â
She can feel his heavy breathing against her neckâbigger hands pawing at her hips every now and then and trying to pull her closer, as if theyâre not already effectively glued together, leaving her no space to move. Â
Sheâs already beginning to grow sticky between her thighs when he drags her against his cock again; seemingly stuck in some sort of a stupor. Â
She canât help but let out a faint mewl when her clit throbs, pestering for more friction since the soft fabric of her underwear is not even close to enough, more or less torturing her with the its cottony graze.
And thatâs when Rafe finally stirs, the weight of his arm loosening like a tight knot unfurling, finally allowing for her lungs to greedily suck in the air of the quiet room.
âShitâ sorry, my bad,â his tone is gravelly, and she could swear some sort of birds begin flapping their wings in her tummy, jabbing at her insides in response.
However, he doesnât pull away like she half expects.Â
âItâsâŚuhâ itâs okay. I meanâŚno worries, it happens,â she rambles with heated cheeks because what the fuck is she supposed to say to that?Â
âNah, sâfully my fault, jusâ had this, uh, nice dream,â he admits, voice coarse.Â
âOh. What was it about?â she inquires with a yawn, perhaps slightly too curious for her own good. Â
âYou wanna know?â his brows raise.Â
She manages a hum.
âWell, there was this, uh, real pretty girlâŚân she had me in her mouth ân was lettinâ me do whatever I wanted,â he murmurs, a heady tone overlaying his response. Â
âOh.â She tries to appear indifferent, even if thereâs a pitiful sprout of jealousy threatening to blossom in the pit of her stomach.
He lets out a breathy chuckle. âYouâre silly sometimes, you know?â
He was practically dry-humping her just now, was he not? Why would he be dreaming about another girl when heâs got her right here?Â
âSo, what else happened?â Â
âWhat else? Okay, then she, uh, let me do this,â he confesses at the same time as he grabs at her hips again before pushing against her, earning a whimper when she can feel how big he is through the thin material of her underwear.Â
âRafeâŚwhatâre you doing?â she asks through a whineâ his blunt nails denting the exposed skin of her thighs.
âGot no idea what youâre doinâ to me, do you?â
âIâ what are youâŚwhatâre you talking about?â her brain is foggy, unable to think straight when heâs so close. However, he doesnât respond, merely continues the retelling of his dream.
âThen I grabbed her like this,â he lifts her on top of him in one smooth motion, as if she weighs nothing more than a piece of paperâ shuffling her around until sheâs straddling him, properly sitting on top of his cock.
Somewhere along the way, her inhale gets stuck in her throat, mindlessly moving her achy cunt over him and causing him to let out a heartfelt grunt.
âNeedy little thing likes this, huh?â he helps her find some relief by grappling at her hips and dragging her over his cockâ filthy groans escaping his mouth when he feels her wetness saturating the two layers of cotton between them. Â
âRafe, can youâŚâ Â
âCan I what, hm? Play with you a little?â he says while already slipping a hand in her panties; petting at her puffy clit, earning a surprised moan from her before she lifts up the hem of her shirt for a better view. Â
âDidnât know you were such a dirty girl. Gettinâ real fuckinâ wet from me just beinâ close to you, huh?â his thumb rubs lazy circles over her sensitive button, making her cry out as she presses down harder against his cock.Â
âShit, gonna come in my fuckinâ pants if you keep doinâ thatâŚyou wanna know what else was in mâdream?âÂ
She nods, frantic. Â
âPushed this little piece of fabric here to the side,â he says as he plucks at her underwear, doing just that. âAnd then, did this,â he mumbles out as he takes himself out, causing her eyes to round out when she looks down at it in his palm, mesmerized. He thuds the head on her clitâ one, two, three times, and then heâs smearing it over her sticky folds, painting it up and down her soaked cunt.
âRafeâŚâ she whines, desperate to feel him inside her. Unfortunately for her, heâs feeling a little mean; pressing just the tip inside her tight hole, slowly pushing in and out and turning her into a whimpering mess.
The hydrangea blue of his eyes is locked to where they connect, fascinated. âFuck, sweetheart, does that feel nice?â he asks, thumbing over her swollen bud, tucking his cock in a little deeper and forcing a loud noise to leave her throat.
âFeels so good, Rafe, think mâgonnaâŚâ she trails off, lids heavy as she stretches around him. Â
âYou gonna come already?â he chuckles, amusement coating his features while he keeps nudging his dick about halfway in and then out, never fully plunging it inside. Â
âYou feel soâŚcanâtâ canât hold it,â watery droplets gather in the corners of her eyes, catching to her lashes as her teary eyes look into larimar and she keeps rolling her hips against him, chasing after a release.Â
âGo on then, let me feel you soak my cock, yeah?â he encourages, and she doesnât need to be told twice before sheâs crying out and throbbing around him, hips stuttering as her cunt pulses and sheâs unspooling on top of him.Â
âThere you go, fuckinâ give it to me,â he grunts, and all of a sudden, he feels his own orgasm approachingârolling down a hill like a landslide. Sheâs squeezing around him so tight, he canât help but thrust his hips into her, a guttural moan leaving him when he finally stuffs his cock inside her, to the hilt.
Then, heâs stilling inside her and groaning out when his cum gushes out from his drippy tip, coating her gummy walls in white, filling her to the brimâ making her feel so full.
Thereâs so much of it, to the point where the sticky substance begins to seep out from where theyâre connected as they both pant, trying to even out their breathing. Â
She turns into something mellow in his arms, slumping down against him and burying her face in his neck as he draws sluggish circles on her back, calming her down with tender words spoken in gentle murmurs. Â
She thinks she could die happy right now. Â
âDid so good for me, shit, should do this more often, yeah?â he says with a sleepy tinge. Â Â
And sheâs completely out of it; head as empty as ever and merely managing a hum of agreement before sheâs tumbling down a slippery slide right back into a nebulous slumber.
#construction worker!rafe#shy!reader#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron imagine#rafe smut#rafe fanfiction#rafe imagine#rafe x reader#rafe fic#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#outerbanks rafe#obx smut#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron obx#obx fanfiction#obx fic#obx#outer banks#outer banks fanfiction
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Rose and Sandalwood â.á 𫧠đ đđ¸



synopsis: taking a shower with Sylus ;)
tags: shower sex, begging, nipple play, pet names, vulgar, creampie, explicit
wrd cnt: 1.1k
a/n: 3rd sylus fic of the week iâm on a sylus spree rn i alreays have another draft thatâs almost done with bondage and gunplayâŚ.i donât wanna be saved guys
The humidity in the air clung to your body, just like a specific crow behind you.
Sylus suggested since you use up most of his resources, you should both try to save a little water together at the least.
Heâs the one always offering you everything !!
For once you could already see through his sneaky ploys, but you certainly didnât mind.
After bickering about the water temperature, he caved and let you turn it up til damn near boiling point.
âI donât understand how you can stand thisâŚit feels like Iâm going to melt.â He says, standing behind you while you let the shower heads around you spray your body with steamy water.
âI donât get how you can shower in ice cold water- maybe thatâs why your skin is so nice actuallyâŚâ You second guess yourself.
He smirked, âSee,â he picks up a black glass bottle of what smelled like a luxurious body wash, âYou could learn a thing or two from me, sweetieâ.
Before you had time to think of a good response, Sylus lathered up the now bubbly body wash into his hands and rubbed your shoulders with it.
You laughed- out of both surprised and disbelief. âWhat are you doing?â
âWhat does it look like? I expect you to do the same for me after this you know, repaying my kindness and all.â He said, his eyebrows raised and trying to sound serious while you laughed.
âOf course you just want something in return.â You retort.
His eyes narrowed, pulling your body closer to his as his other started moving around, soaping up your neck and dragging his large palm down to your breasts, making you wonder what he had planned.
âI did want something in return, now that you mention itâŚâ He lowered his head down to meet your face, âYouâ He whispered, barely audible enough under the half a dozen shower heads surrounding the two of you.
âSylusâŚâ You whimpered, feeling both his hands tweaking at your nipples, dragging his soapy hands against your soft breasts. He kneaded them, squeezed and rubbed them while you held onto his wrists.
Before you had any time to stop him, he grabbed the back of your thighs and picked you up, your upper bodies pressed against one another; your soapy tits transferring the suds to his chest.
âYou look so cute like this, kitten.â He mumbled, placing kisses to your neck and hearing your soft moans as you tangle your hand in the back of his head.
You forgot how tall he really was, and how high up he had you now; pressed against the glass of the shower while the water rained down between you. The smell of rose and sandalwood kissed your senses, with Sylus kissing your neck and chest.
âIsnât the whole purpose of a shower- to be clean?â You spit out between moans, feeling his hard cock lay in position between your folds and his lower stomach.
âI can clean you up right after, with water and soapâŚ.or my tongue, Iâll let you pick.â He mumbles next to your ear. âUnlessâŚ.you want to stop right hereâ. He threatens, slowly letting you down.
âNo!â You reply, gripping on his shoulders to keep yourself in his hold.
âThen whatâs with all the complacency? We really need to teach you gratitude.â He snarled, placing the tip of his cock right at your entrance, watching for the approval in your eyes- well, moreso the desperation.
âSylus- pleaseâŚâ
âPlease? Is that all? Iâm going to need more than that.â He replies, his deep voice sounding even smoother in the echo of the large shower room.
âPlease- I need youâŚâ You measly reply.
âHmph, I guess thatâll do.â He smirks, pushing his tip up and down your slippery folds, hearing you whine as he finally pushed it inside you.
You gasped, not fully used to his size after all this time.
âFuckâŚyouâre squeezing around me so tightly, princess.â He exclaims, placing his hands back onto your hips as you wrap your arms around his neck, and legs around his waist.
âSy-lusâŚharder!â You gasp, feeling ever inch of him slowly pulling in and out of you, dragging his long cock in and out of your velvet walls.
His grip on your hips only tightened, definitely leaving some kind of soreness to be discovered later that night.
âDo you even hear yourself? Such a naughty girl.â He says, taking your words to heart and pounding your pussy even harder. Relishing in your submission.
You could hear all the lewd noises, the squelching sounds coming from your shared effort, the chuckle of Sylus as he watched your fucked out face just contort.
âOh fuck- Y/nâŚâ He moaned into your ear, he knew how much you loved that.
He canât help himself but to speak his pleasure into your ear, holding you so close as he fucks you so deep. The steam from the shower only made your head lighter, you felt like you were on an actual cloud.
With his brutal pace, you almost felt like the glass behind you was going to shatter soon. Sylus started to rut into you, his thrusts getting erratic and quick.
âSweetie- Iâm sorryâŚIt seems like you will be getting dirtier soon.â He laughed, a strangled one that showed how close he was.
You wanted him to make you feel even more warm, to fill you up and let it drip out of you.
And he didnât make you wait too long, as you approached your own orgasm, you felt a tight knot in your stomach, the pressure of Sylusâ body pressed tight against you threatened to make it all unfold.
âAh- shitâŚâ He groaned, holding the bottom of your ass as he pounded you deeper, digging his nails into your plush skin as you felt ropes or cum splash into you, hearing a deep groan evade his mouth.
The knot inside you had broken as well, creating a ring of your own cum around his cock; while your cunt dripped out his.
You both realized you were in the shower so long you would have been better off showing separately, but whereâs the fun in that?
whimsic4alwasab1 ⢠- do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.
#joâs posts#l&ds#l&ds scenarios#l&ds headcanons#lds sylus#sylus x you#lads sylus smut#l&ds sylus#sylus smut#love and deepspace sylus#sylus x reader#lnds sylus#lnds#lnds smut#lnds x reader#love and deepspace smut#zayne love and deepspace#love and deepspace
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