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prettygiri222 · 1 year ago

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okay but imagine eren seen a video of his baby momma at the club singin sexy redd’s “ FUCK MY BABYDADDY ” 😭😭 he just brings their son or daughter to reader’s mom and goes back to reader’s house and tears them TF upppp.

i can just hear him saying “ fuck yo baby who?? oh aight. ”

I had to add rapper!Eren to this cause it's something I always wanted to write😋

Eren x Black Fem Reader, PLOT + SMUT

rapper Eren Yeager's longtime girlfriend of six years broke up with him after having his first child, Duke Yeager. Eren shared a post on instagram confirming their breakup but stated that the both of them remain in Duke’s life as co-parents. the reason why was unreleased so fans speculated that Eren must’ve cheated because why else would you willingly break up with the famous rapper. his management released a statement saying it was due to conflicting schedules but it was seen as damage control so no one believed it.

during the six years of the relationship, his management managed to keep your face out of the media. but with the way Eren was constantly posting snippets of you, fans soon discovered who you were after matching physical features, traits and location that were found on his story with the ones present on your small instagram.

you two quickly became the it couple, how the girl from nowhere pulled a famous rapper gave fans hope because they saw them reflected in you. a woman who didn’t have to undergo multiple surgeries to pull the industry's finest. but after the breakup, that image fell.

his management did their best to keep things under wraps to keep the media from tormenting you but it didn’t work. when you posted a picture of yourself postpartum your dms filled with hateful comments wondering why Eren had gotten with you in the first place. you knew it was just jealous fangirls but it still got to you, especially since you weren’t all that confident in your new body and still recovering from your pregnancy. your accounts went silent shortly after.

although the breakup was mutual, the reason why was deeper than scheduling conflicts. you needed someone who was able to be there physically, emotionally and mentally. it was hard for Eren to provide that due to his career path, always travelling the world with a packed schedule. you guys did your best to make it work but after Duke came into the world you just couldn’t handle it anymore.

Eren was a decent baby daddy and you guys co-parented well. you had full custody of him but when Eren was in town and would have time off you would send Duke over to him. Duke loved his daddy, always wanting to watch his concerts and interviews on the TV when he wasn’t there or free to facetime. Eren always made sure to send double what was asked for in child support to make sure you took care of yourself as well as his son.

that’s why when you reposted your friend’s story of you in the club all hell broke loose. people took it as a diss to your baby daddy, which it was, but not in the way they thought.

earlier that week you had dropped Duke off at Eren’s mansion. he had just flown back in from his world tour and finally had a few weeks off. despite being exhausted he called you up and asked if you could bring Duke over, wanting to spend as much time with his son as possible during his break. he sent over an uber black to pick the two of you up.

when Eren met you two at the door, Duke jumped into his arms smiling and giggling. it’s been a while since he’s seen his daddy in person. the sight made you awe. Eren turned to you and asked if you wanted to stay over so he could spend time with the two most important people in his life but sadly you declined. you didn’t want to interrupt their father and son bonding time.

Duke was almost a clone of Eren, he had his sharp green eyes, german nose and face shape. the only hints of you in him were his full lips, darker skin and coils. Duke was your little bundle of joy but he could be a handful at times. during the few times those two got to spend together Eren spoiled him rotten, whatever he wanted he got and it showed. whenever you told him no he would throw a tantrum saying how he wanted his daddy. you knew you were a good mother but hearing him say that when you were the one who took care of him every day hurt.

---

it was a friday night and Eren was at his crib chilling with Duke. he had his phone on do now disturb so his time with his family wouldn’t be interrupted. it was a shame you weren’t here to spend time with them. after having pizza, soda and ice cream for dinner the boys passed out on the couch after staying up past midnight watching movies.

his peace was soon interrupted by the constant buzz of his phone. it roused him from his sleep but Duke slept through it. after the third ring, he finally answered the phone. he was pissed that his manager was calling him knowing it was his time off but he figured it must be important for them to use emergency bypass to call.

“what’s going on?” his voice gruff from his slumber and irritation. he turned on his phone to see it flooded with notifications from instagram, snapchat, tiktok, twitter, messages, missed calls from his friends and one from his mom and his heart dropped to his stomach. he hadn't dropped anything new recently so he knew whatever was happening had to be bad.

“well… it’s about your baby mama… she uh…” his manager was at a loss for words. he didn't know the words to describe the situation to make it not seem as bad as the media was already making it out to be. he knew Eren would be pissed when he found out what happened and they didn't want to be on the end of it.

Eren was extremely protective of his family and friends. when he saw the hate you were receiving after you posted a picture of yourself postpartum he took to twitter immediately. he did not play when it came to you, together or not together. you were the mother of his child and you needed your respect. so he was wondering why you were playing in his face like this.

“well what is it?” he snapped, already losing his patience. “is she ok? is she hurt?” he shot upright from his resting position on the couch. he opened up the group chat between him, Armin, Connie, Onyankopon and Jean first. all that was sent was a blurry video followed by a bunch of skull and grave emojis.

he opened the video and immediately recognized the faces of a few of the girls in it as a few of your friends, Sasha, Mikasa and Historia at a club. Sasha, Connie’s model girlfriend was the one to record them singing along to a sexyy red song. he wondered what the video had to do with him until it panned to you. you stood out with your brightly dyed red hair styled in a what he recognized as a wash-and-go.

“fuck my baby daddy! fuck my baby daddy! fuck my baby daddy!” you were shouting the lyrics a little bit too passionately. you had your middle fingers stuck up to the camera showing off your glittery red acrylic nails. you were clearly wasted, drunk off of whatever drinks Sasha managed to shove down your throat.

“yes bitch!” your friends shouted as you turned around to shake your ass sticking out your tongue. you were wearing a ripped mesh dress. one of your friends reached out to pull down the back of your dress to prevent your ass from showing but the dress was already leaving very little to the imagination. the pregnancy did your body good, you were a bit on the skinny side before but now your hips had filled out, your ass and boobs swole and your skin finally cleared up. you were glowing.

“I’m a fine ass bitch, I ain’t in the in the house sad!” you were feeling yourself. it felt nice to get out of the house and away from Duke no matter how much you loved him. having to take care of a baby by yourself was tiring, no matter how much Eren supported you from afar you needed him there with you.

your friends were hyping you up and your mind grew hazy from both the alcohol and adrenaline. you were far too gone to realize what you said when you yelled “fuck Eren!” instead of the actual lyrics. the camera quickly panned to the floor before the video stopped.

Eren had to replay the video countless times to process what he had seen and heard. but he couldn’t believe it was you. never in the eight years he’s known you have you ever picked up the phone to send a dig at him through social media. no matter how tough the going got, it’s what he respected about you. you always wanted to talk problems through and try to make it work. Eren clenched his fist looking at you now.

Eren knows how baby mamas like you are seen and treated in the industry. he’s seen how they're constantly bashed and embarrassed by the fathers of their children and the media. Eren never wanted that for you, he wanted to give you a ring before he gave you a baby but accidents happen and here you both were. instead of calling him or stopping by to talk you wanted to show out for the fans and diss him. it was stupid of you, he knew you were better than this.

“so it’s “fuck Eren” is that right,” Eren laughed to himself throwing his head back on the couch. sure he couldn’t be there for you and Duke all the time like he wanted but at least he tried. he was a very busy man. but he did what he had to to make sure his mother, Duke and you could have a nice and cozy life. where Duke didn’t have to worry about if he was going to eat dinner that night. “bet.”

“sorry little man but I have to go get your mommy. you’re going to go to stay with your grandma tonight, ok?” he cooed to Duke, waking him up. Duke slowly woke up and was trying to rub the sleep out of his eye. Eren loved his son very much he was the reason he kept this stressful life up.

he enjoyed making music and performing but not during the days when he slept in the studio trying to find the perfect lyrics and beat or days where he hardly slept because he had to stay on his feet. it was a fast life and if he couldn’t keep up it would all come crashing down. and for you to make a dig at that knowing how he felt was fucked.

“Eren Yeager!” his manager shouted through the phone overhearing the whole thing. he needed Eren to keep a calm head and not do anything rash tonight. he didn’t need him sparking more outrage in the media or doing something that could potentially ruin the relationship you two had. “what are you going to do?”

“what else, I’m going to go fuck my baby mama,” before his manager could get another word out he hung up the phone.

“daddy said a bad word!”

“...don’t tell your mom and I’ll bring you to the studio with me.”

---

you wobbled into your apartment with a sheepish grin. it felt like a huge weight was lifted off your shoulder tonight. it’s been a while since you went to the club and got so drunk that the world became a blur. you were slowly regaining memories of what happened that night and you couldn’t help but cringe knowing you would regret some of them in the morning. your phone died on your way home after you reposted Sasha’s story so you were oblivious to the buzz you had created.

when you went to unlock your door you found out that it was already open. you raised your brow but you brushed it off thinking you must’ve forgotten to lock it in your rush to leave the house. you knew the security for your building was tight, it was the main thing you were looking for when you were buying your apartment. it was a necessity since Duke was the son of a successful rapper.

when you and Eren had split you bought yourself a nice little two-bedroom apartment deep in the city. Eren offered to pay for it but you immediately declined, you didn’t want anything else of yours to get attached to him. during your relationship you saved up a lot of money since Eren had always offered to buy you whatever you wanted and spoiled you rotten just like he was doing with Duke. he fueled your shopping addiction only wanting his girlfriend to have the best of the best.

you had a little side hustle as an occasional hairstylist and nail artist for your friends and family with the occasional new client. Eren told you time and time again you didn’t need to work and that he would take care of everything. but you liked having your own source of income it made you feel independent plus you enjoyed your job.

being able to close on your dream apartment was a dream come true and it left you feeling satisfied. you loved how everything was within walking distance, there was a daycare down the street along with an elementary school for when Duke got older. there was a grocery store right around the corner with a few outlets and public transit ran just outside the building, it was perfect for a single mother like you.

“thought we were doing good with this co-parenting shit mama?” the second you opened the door you were greeted by a voice you knew better than your own. goosebumps covered your arms, ‘why is he here’ you thought.

“Eren?” you called out into the dark apartment. you felt the wall closest to the door for the switch and turned the light on. and there he was, Eren, your famous baby daddy. he turned his head to look at you from where he was seated on the couch. his eyes were extremely low, watching your every move. “are you ok? where's Duke?”

“with your mom,” Eren was having such a pleasant high, he felt so relaxed and calm in the dark room. he didn’t have the TV on and was just staring at the black screen. but the second the room lit up and you walked through the door with that tiny see-through dress on it dispersed. he narrowed his eyes down at you and you could tell you had just blown his high. his anger simmering underneath his calm demeanour.

“how’d you even get in?” you never gave Eren the key to your apartment. having already been split and you always dropped Duke off at his place there was no reason for him to have one.

“front desk gave me a key after I flashed a couple of stacks,” he replied nonchalantly, like it wasn’t a crime on both parts. you rolled your eyes, this was how Eren fixed all his problems, with money. you get that when he was growing up it was something he didn’t have but now that he had it was like all he knew how to do was throw it at people to make his problems disappear.

“well if Duke isn’t here then there’s no reason for you to be,” you don’t know what you did to warrant this visit but you didn’t want to be in his presence any longer. you liked to keep your contact with Eren as minimal as possible. plus you didn’t have the energy to deal with him tonight, you were tired. hoping he would get the hint it was time to leave you walked away and headed towards your bedroom, “please see yourself out. we can talk another day.”

“nah, 'cause it’s “fuck Eren” right?” he got up from the couch and followed you down the hall and into your room. the wooden floor creaking under his weight. you didn’t have to turn around to know he was towering over you, you could feel him breathing down your neck. you tried to move away from him but he gripped your waist with a firm grip underneath and pulled you against him. “you must’ve gone crazy going so long with my dick huh? that must be it, acting like you lost your damn mind.”

“Eren!” you pulled away to look back at him in shock. “what are you even talking about?”

“don’t play dumb with me mama, your ass is all over the shade room talking about “fuck my baby daddy” ” he took his phone out of his pocket to show you their newest post. it was a screenshot of a video but it was clearly you, it was the same outfit and hairstyle you had on right now. you swiped the image on his phone in disbelief and the video played, “fuck Eren! fuck my baby daddy! fuck my baby daddy!”

“oh my gosh! Eren, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, I was drunk and got carried away,” you looked up at him from the phone. you could tell he was pissed, his eyes darkened after hearing what you said in the video for the hundredth time. you were horrified, you didn’t mean to air out your personal problems and make Eren seem like a bad father. you knew how the public blew things out of proportion.

“they say drunk words are sober thoughts,” Eren stated, shrugging his shoulders. “I know Duke be stressing you out ma, let me fix it,” he stared down at you with a little smirk. he licked his lips, obviously checking you out. it's been a while since he's seen your body exposed, you always show up to drop Duke off in oversized sweaters and shirts. just looking at you like this made his dick hard, “plus you owe me an apology.”

that’s how you found yourself face down ass up in your bedroom with the man you’d never thought would step foot in your new apartment. Eren was behind you standing at the edge of the bed, his black and grey nike tech sweater was thrown somewhere in your room leaving him in a white wife beater and his golden cuban link chain. his grey sweats were down so that just his dick was out.

“mm fuck Eren! please,” you cried out. no matter how deeply you arched or angled your hips you couldn’t get him to reach where you needed him the most. he knew that but he loved watching you struggle and the way your brown cheeks jiggled after coming into contact with his pelvis. you were a sight to see, one that he deeply missed.

“you can do better than that mama,” he raised his pierced brow watching you. Eren stood completely still behind you, you had your face buried in the sheets as you attempted to throw it back on him. you were still dressed in your mesh dress but he ripped your thong off. “I saw you in that video. you were shaking that shit so c’mon, fuck me back ma.”

your makeup was staining your sheets but you could care less right now. the feeling of Eren stretching out your practically virginal walls was dumbfounding. he didn’t bother to stretch you out believing that your body was already moulded to his shape. but it’s been about two years since you last had sex. your tight walls were struggling to accommodate his humongous size.

“ ’m trying,” the lack of stimulation on your sweet spots had you in tears. the stretch was pleasurable but it wasn’t enough, paired with the shallow thrusts. you so desperately craved more so you reached in between your legs to play with your clit. Eren groaned at the sight of you touching yourself, not to mention you began to clench around him.

“damn ma, now that’s what I’m talking about,” Eren gave your ass a harsh slap. you let out a little whine as you lost your rhythm because of it. but you soon found it again. your wetness was soaking his dick and you were basically twerking on his dick. Eren loved every second of it.

he took one of your ass cheeks and pulled it to the side with his tattooed hand, he watched himself go in and out of your brown folds. feeling the unsteady approach of his orgasm watching as you struggled to fuck yourself on him he decided to finally grant you mercy. he languidly began to thrust into you. “go ahead and nut on this dick mama.”

“o-okay” you stuttered out. you struggled to concentrate on stimulating your sensitive clit while bouncing back to meet Eren’s lazy thrusts. your fingers were covered in your own wetness while you rubbed little circles on your bud. each loop paired with the tip of his dick pressing against that spongy spot inside you brought you ever closer to your climax. “ ‘m so close!”

“let it out for me baby,” the pace became erratic, you guys’ release at its peak. sometimes his dick collided straight into your soft spot and sometimes it completely missed. but the feeling of him pummeling in and out of you had you convulsing around his dick. “keep squeezing around me like that and I'll put another baby in you, fuck.”

you let out broken whines as you struggled to continuously stimulate your bud. you were soaking wet that your fingers slipped around. “‘ren! ren!” you chanted, reaching out toward him with your slick-covered hand. Eren grabbed it and put it in his mouth. groaning deeply as he licked and sucked on your coated digits.

“don’t worry mama, I got you. let it out for me,” Eren leaned over your arched form and whispered in your ear. his husky sending shivers down your spine as he talked you through it. you listened to him feeling the wave of pleasure overwhelm you, the sensation in your stomach bursting.

“f-fuck, fuck!”

“shit,” when he felt himself about to burst he pulled out of your pussy's compelling grasp. he watched the lewd scene in front of him and used it to jerk off. he groaned out stroking his soaking dick. your pussy hole remained gaping after he pulled out and your liquids were spilling on your sheets. after a few strokes, he released all over your back onto your mesh dress staining it.

you plopped down onto your empty bed exhausted. the room filled with the sound of laboured breathing as you guys tried to catch your breath. the sound of Eren shuffling around could be heard soon after. your heart ached at the thought of him leaving you so soon but you closed your eyes, ‘it’s for the better’ you thought. you wanted a few moments of rest before you went to wash up.

but Eren wasn’t finished yet, he was shedding the remaining articles of his clothing leaving him naked. your eyes opened feeling the bed dip under the extra weight. before you could protest, Eren had already climbed on top of you, grabbing your legs and having them pushed over your head, “we’re not finished yet.”

this time Eren took the lead, he had ripped off your dress leaving you completely naked and exposed to his eyes. he had you folded over like a pretzel leaving you open for him. your legs were bent so far over your head you could see the top of your pussy and watch as Eren thrusted in and out of your overstimulated hole from above. the pleasure made you want to slither away but Eren’s strong hold kept you still.

“E-eren!” you were losing your mind from the stimulation. “too much! it’s too much!” you cried out. you reached out to push against his rock-hard abdomen. you didn’t want him to stop, not when you were so close to your second orgasm of the night but it was too much. he was being so rough with you. you didn’t think you had it in you after motherhood to be manhandled like this.

“nah, you can take it. you’re a big girl now, dissing me at the club with your friends. be glad I’m even fucking you since I’m such a “bad baby daddy.” Eren mocked you from above. he didn’t even flinch as you tried to push him away. he smiled down at you watching how easily you got fucked out. moans were no longer coming out your mouth, more like strangled sobs and whines that were being forced out after each deep thrust of his. the head of his dick battering your insides and abusing your soft spot left you tremoring underneath him.

“imsorryimsorry,” you babbled out. your mascara and eyeliner were running down your cheeks and your lipstick was smothered but you couldn’t look any prettier to Eren. he enjoyed watching as your tits bounce around. he brought his forest green eyes back up to you watching as you bit your quivering lip.

“how’d that song go again?” Eren sarcastically asked. with the number of times he replayed that video he had the lyrics, beat and rhythm all memorized. “something like this right?” pap! pap! pap! Eren changed the rhythm of his thrusts, the sound of his balls clapping against your ass and the squelching sounds of your pussy mimicked the bow bow bow of the song. he angled each thrust to deliver a particularly harsh hit to your g-spot.

without warning an intense feeling of pleasure erupted in your stomach. “imcuming!” you cried out. you could feel a liquid flow out from your pussy, completely drenching Eren’s dick. he quickly pulled out to watch you squirt, a sight he immensely missed. the translucent liquid gushed out of your hole soaking the sheets as well.

“you said fuck your baby who?” Eren smiled down at your fucked out face. you couldn’t even answer him with the overwhelming pleasure rendering all of your senses useless. your head was thrown back and your face furrowed, coming down from the high of your intense orgasm. “oh aight.”

I think I got a bit carried away🤭

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akixa · 2 months ago

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could you write something about Yamazaki shingen can be anything

Sure! 🎀

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

Shingen Yamazaki

First to end of it.

You and Shingen were in high-school students. You are his first love before it went downfall.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

Here you are, standing outside of his classroom, waiting on him. You were stomping on your left foot impatiently for him to get out of that room.

"Ugh, it's been 30 minutes and he is still not coming out?! hmp…”

You look through the mirror door and see him still studying on his desk all by himself. The school bell rang an hour ago, and everyone had already left the school except you two still in school. You barge into his classroom and sit in front of him.

"When will you be done?” You ask him as he looks up from his book to you now. His eyes are full of black, empty, and shallow of darkness, looking to you. He put down his book and spoke at you with boredom through his voice.

"Why are you still here?”

“Waiting on you, dummy.”

“who said you can wait for me?”

“Me and you can't do anything about it.”

He let out a sigh and started gathering his things into his bag while you stood there, smirking at him. You loved teasing him, knowing it would make him angry, but he could never do anything about it since you were a girl and he couldn't hit you. In fact, Shingen was always at the top of his class, and you were always second, making the two of you look like a power couple, even though you were just colleagues and friends.

Together, you often found yourselves in friendly competition, pushing each other to be better. You both shared a passion for literature, often exchanging books and discussing your favorite authors. Your debates about the themes and characters in the novels you read were intense but always ended with mutual respect and a deeper understanding of each other's perspectives.

Despite this, you couldn't help but wonder if he ever thought about the possibility of something more between you two. You certainly did. Every shared glance, every playful argument, and every moment spent together made you hope that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way. The bond you shared over your interests only deepened your connection, making you wish that your friendship could blossom into something more.

You always see him as a ruthless prince in your imagination and you remember that time that you almost fell down the stairs because the floor was so slippery with no sign to say it. Before you even meet the floor a hand grab your waist and pull you up with other hand on your legs. You look up just to see him carrying you like a bride. Blushing mess as he carry you to the clinic to check if theres any injury on you.

Enough with the past. You always bottle up your feelings for him because you know it would be dangerous for both of you. As the son of Shinji Yamazaki, the formidable head of the Yamazaki clan, he is constantly under scrutiny. Being with Shingen has already caused him trouble, just by being near him and teasing him.

Every time you meet, there's a spark in his eyes that he tries to hide. When you tease him, he pretends to be annoyed, but you can see the faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He often finds excuses to be near you, whether it's helping you with a task or just sitting quietly beside you.

Little did you know, he also harbored feelings for you. In his position, he had to hide everything, including you. To him, you were something special, someone he cherished deeply. He wanted to hate you for your own safety, but why do you keep coming back?

There were moments when his guard would slip, and he'd let his true feelings show. A lingering touch on your hand, a protective arm around your shoulder when danger seemed near, or the way his eyes softened when he looked at you. These small interactions spoke volumes about his hidden emotions.

Despite the risks, you couldn't stay away. The bond between you was too strong, and every interaction only deepened your connection. You were something else for him, someone he couldn't bear to lose. He wanted to hate you for your safety, but your unwavering presence made it impossible.

Finally, you both step out of the school, with him next to you, carrying both his bag and yours. The silence between you is comfortable, and you watch the sun slowly setting together. In the golden light, you glance at him and see the warmth on his face, reminding you of the sun—how you feel about him, yet you can’t be too close.

You try to approach him, using your pinkie to touch his arm slightly. Your cheeks flush with redness when suddenly you feel his finger wrap around your pinkie, pulling you closer. A warmth lingers on your skin from his touch, reminding you of the sun because of how he melts you with just a simple touch.

When you finally arrive at your place, he places your bag next to you, but neither of you lets go. You’re both scared that the cold will replace the warmth in your arms. As the sun’s rays fade, you watch him walk away, his figure slowly vanishing from your sight.

Maybe tomorrow you see him again like always.

“?!?”

“Be my date.”

What…

Did you hear that right or is the delusional just messing you up? Coffee does bad to your health. You snap out your thoughts and ask what he said again.

“Are you deaf? I said be my date.”

“ You should at least brought me flower with it to make it more romantic”

“... On second thought, never mind.” walking off leaving you behind.

You chuckle as you notice a red tint forming on his ears. But you nod to him agreeing to be his date while catching up to him.

Is it really a good idea? Think about it—nothing bad has happened since you first met him. From the very beginning, you felt an undeniable connection and fell for him. Every moment spent with him makes you feel secure and cherished. You find comfort in his presence, and the thought of being without him is something you can’t bear. You hope that this feeling of safety and love will last forever, and that you’ll never have to part ways.

As you keep catching up to him, he looks at you with such affection that it makes your face glow brightly. The warmth of his gaze feels like a gentle caress, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. He holds out his arm, inviting you to hold him. As you slip your hand into his, you feel the comforting strength of his grip. Together, you walk home, the cool evening air brushing against your skin, the soft rustle of leaves underfoot. The silence between you is filled with the unspoken words of two new love birds, each step syncing your heartbeats, creating a rhythm of newfound love.

People would say everything in the end can be happily ever after with your loved one, but how come yours ended so soon? Laying down on your pile of blood.

A second ago, you were walking alone on the street, a sudden ambush from behind catches you off guard. A sharp object violently pierces through your back, tearing through to your chest. You gasp, blood spurting from your mouth as you collapse to the ground. Your breaths become shallow, your vision blurs, and an overwhelming darkness engulfs you.

As your vision blurred and darkness began to take over, you caught a glimpse of Shingen rushing towards you, his face streaked with tears. It was a sight you never expected to see—Shingen, always the pillar of strength, now crumbling. The raw emotion on his face was startling, yet it brought a strange sense of peace. In your final moments, you found solace in the fact that even the strongest boy in the school hearts can break.

With your last breath, you longed to tell him to live happily and brightly, to watch over him like a star that fades away with the dawn but remains ever-present. Yet you can't… Now, you lie cold and still in his trembling hands. He clutches you tightly, tears streaming down his face, whispering desperately for you to wake up and speak, please. The room is filled with the haunting silence of unspoken words and shattered dreams.

🌧️

#lookism #lookism fic #lookism x reader #shingen yamazaki #gun park #lookism manhwa #lookism fanfiction #lookism fandom #yamazaki shingen #Shingen Yamazaki x reader

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yoongiseesawmp3 · 11 months ago

Text

ceilings pt2 - san (m)

summary: pe teacher!san x not so single mom!reader. now that san knows about his daughter, he's determined to worm his way into her life. and yours. and maybe your home? or, the one where violet's mom and dad fall in love.

word count: 16.3k (i could say i'm sorry but i'm not)

warnings: SMUT! afab reader, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving). this is unedited and i am sorry about that

masterlist / part one

"mommy, where's daddy?"

"he's at home, sugar," you answer violet. she's been asking about her dad a lot more lately, considering she now knows that san, her pe teacher, is her father. the two of you told violet the same night that you told san, and at first you worried that was the wrong choice. you were worried this would be too much for violet all at once and she wouldn't understand, so you and san came up with a plan.

you still drove violet to school every day, but she'd come home with san. he'd always bring her back to your house and watch her until you got home. every other night, the two of you would make dinner, or san would treat his girls to whatever they wanted if you were too lazy to cook. on the weekends, he and violet had daddy daughter days where he took her to the park, to birthday parties, friend's houses for playdates, the store...they went anywhere and everywhere together. daddy daughter days were always followed by family fun days where san would spend the night and wake up with you in his arms and violet knocking at the door asking to play. these were his favorites (and yours too) because it was just a glimpse of how wonderful your life as a family could be.

it was so hard for san to leave, though. he hated going back to his empty apartment during the week, and family fun days usually carried over into monday morning. the only thing stopping san from coming back and staying that night, and the next, and the next..the only thing stopping him was you.

you claim you were too afraid of changing violet's schedule so quickly, because san was, in a way, still a stranger to your daughter. you were afraid of doing anything that would hurt violet now or later on in life, so you wanted to take things slow with san. in reality, you were afraid of opening your own life to him. you know he's a great dad, you know you can trust him with violet, but you're afraid of trusting him with yourself. honestly, violet has been handling this great. now it's just you that needs to adjust.

you will say, the only growing pain so far is 1) getting violet to refer to san as mr. choi still at school and 2) getting her to not call him mr. dad at home. other than that, she's loving this whole dad thing. she's got another playmate, a new best buddy, a partner in crime. it's so cool seeing violet and san bond finally, and every day you catch yourself loving them both more and more.

"when we finish dinner, can we call him?" she asks. (she saw him less than an hour ago.)

"as soon as you eat your broccoli," you tell her, and you have to stifle a laugh at the way she rolls her eyes. your little drama queen. she listens though, because she's done with her food in record time. you let her take your phone and call her dad, laughing at the way she's speaking a mile a minute as soon as he picks up.

while violet and san talk, you clean up dinner. you don't have to do much, because san did most of your dishes while he waited for you to get home from work today. you're trying to balance the mess in your fridge and find space for the leftovers when you notice something you don't remember buying. you pull it out and see a handwritten note, from san, telling you he bought your favorite dessert "just because." you're pulling it from the fridge to sneak a couple bites without violet knowing when she appears in the doorway, your phone smooshed between her cheek and her shoulder. squeezed in her hands is san's old pillow, shiber, and she plays with it as she asks, "mommy? can daddy spend the night?"

"huh?" you laugh, recognizing how odd that sentence is. it's just another reminder for you that you need to get comfortable with san being here, being with you, because the longer you wait, the less she gets to see of her dad. you can hear san faintly through the phone, and then violet nods, goes, "mhm, she's right here," then passes the phone to you. "daddy said he wants to talk to you."

"is this the handsome man who left a tiramisu in my fridge this afternoon?" you greet him, and you get butterflies in your stomach when you hear his happy laugh.

"and what if it is?"

"thank you, san."

"of course, m'love," he says like it's nothing. "figured you would like it."

"so what's this i hear about you spending the night?" you ask as you try a bite of the tiramisu. it's sweet and comforting, just like san.

"that was violet's idea, i swear-"

"so you won't admit that you miss me?" you tease.

"will you admit that you miss me?" he gives it right back, and you feel your face flush.

"i do," you nod. "i miss you. if you want to spend the night tonight you can. sorry you had to go home-"

"don't say sorry," he cuts you off. "i'll be there in 20."

san is at your house in 15 minutes. he lets himself in, which will never not surprise you, because you're so used to being the only person with a key to your house. while you're recovering from the small heart attack of thinking an intruder was opening the front door, violet comes tearing out of her room screeching for her dad. she's so happy to see him, she jumps into his arms and he has to catch himself on the door to stop from falling. you let them have a moment, content to hang off to the side but san pulls you into his side and places a delicate kiss on your cheek.

"hey," he smiles.

"hello," you squeak, and he squeezes you closer to his side. "you want me to take your stuff to our room?"

"our room?" he asks, his smile growing bigger. "you've never called it that before."

"do you want me to take it or not," you deadpan, trying to will the blush away from your cheeks.

"yeah, you can take my stuff to our room," he emphasizes. "i'll get our daughter ready for bed."

"no!" violet whines. "you just got here!"

"you still have school tomorrow, bug," he tells her, booping her nose. "gotta stick to bedtime, but i'll read you an extra book after your bath. ok?"

"ok," she grumbles, wiggling her way out of his arms so she can stomp off to her room. you and san share a laugh and you turn to take his things, but his firm hand tugging your wrist stops you. he pulls you back to his side, cupping his hand under your chin so he can kiss your lips swiftly.

"you know we can kiss in front of her, right?" you whisper to him, but san shakes his head.

"wanted that one to be just for me and you," he says, his hand slipping from your wrist to playfully pat your ass. "go, i'll get her bath started."

"so pushy," you grumble, but you see san smiling from the corner of your eye as you take his things to your room.

not so long after that, you find your little family cuddled up on violet's bed. you're pushed up against the wall, violet smushed into your side, and san's broad form takes up the rest of the bed. he's reading a book to violet that's putting you and your daughter to sleep, and before you know it you've drifted off. you register a soft kiss to your forehead, the bed shifting a little, and then you fall into the deepest sleep you've had in years.

you wake up the next morning in a similar way, except this time, you feel two pairs of lips kissing you. you open your eyes to violet kissing your cheek and san pulling back from kissing your forehead. they're both dressed for school, and you sit up in a panic, mumbling incoherently.

"shh, baby, go back to sleep," san soothes you. "i'll take violet to school, i reset your alarm so you can rest a little more before you have to leave for work."

"what?" you ask groggily, and san explains that the three of you fell asleep in violet's bed. she woke up before her alarm, which woke san up, and he made their breakfast and packed their lunches while violet got dressed. there was nothing for you to do but sit there confused, a pleasant feeling blossoming in your chest. "i guess i'll see you tonight then?"

"you will," san nods, brushing some hair out of your face. "now please, go back to sleep."

"no," you shake your head, reaching for violet. "goodbye hugs. have a good day at school, sugar."

"i will!" she chirps. "it's a pe day, so i get to eat lunch in daddy's office!"

"ooo, i'm jealous," you say as you let her go. you blow san a kiss as he ushers violet out of her room, and he catches it dramatically and pops it into his pocket. he winks at you before he closes the door, reminding you one last time to rest before he leaves. when you hear the front door close, you let yourself fall back onto violet's pillows, catching the scent of san lingering in the sheets. you could get used to mornings like this.

san and violet have a great day at school. as promised, she got to eat lunch in his office, and she felt like the coolest person in the world getting walked back to class by her dad. hand in hand they go back to miss jen's room, meeting the class outside as they take a potty break. violet runs to join her friends, so san stops to say hi to jen.

"we missed you at lunch today," she says. "wooyoung thought you were having a conjugal visit with your wife."

"shut up."

"his words, not mine," she says, putting her hands up. "but violet told me you brought her to school today? is y/n ok?"

"yeah, she's fine," san shrugs. "i just figured she could use the sleep, so i got violet ready and brought her with me this morning."

"you spent the night?" jen wiggles her eyebrows.

"it's not like that," san laughs. "we all slept in violet's bed, no funny business."

"that's fucking cute," jen whispers, her eyes looking over her class to make sure they didn't hear her use a bad word. "things must be going well then!"

"it was violet's idea, me spending the night," san sighs, "but y/n was fine with it, so i guess, yeah, things are great."

"why don't you ask to move in? i know you want to."

"y/n would say no," san shakes his head. "she's not ready for that."

"then we'll make her ready!" jen decides. "i need you two to be madly in love already. i'm living vicariously through you right now."

"if you would just go on a date with wooyoung-"

"stop," jen points a harsh finger in san's face. "we are friends."

"friends who like each other-"

"come on, class, let's go!" jen calls for her kids, and san sticks his tongue out at her as she hurries off. if jen can play matchmaker with him and y/n, then san has every right to get her to realize wooyoung is obsessed with her. he'll bring it up to y/n tonight, see what else they can do.

seeing as you and san are trying to figure this whole estranged friends turned lovers turned parents thing out, one thing you struggle with is finding moments just to be a couple together. you and san never dated, really. yes, some of your time in college could constitute as the early stages of a relationship, but that doesn't really count. you're not sure you and san have ever been on a date under the premise of it being a date, but you are absolutely dating. he's your boyfriend, and you're his girlfriend. it feels trivial trying to define what you are to each other considering the circumstances, so you and san barely talk about it. it hasn't come up in a while, actually, but one friday while you're picking violet up from school, san approaches your car with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"hey beautiful," he greets you, leaning down to give you a kiss as yeosang (mr. kang, the librarian) helps violet into her carseat. at the sound of your lips popping apart from san's, yeosang gasps dramatically with violet.

"how dare you do that in public," yeosang shakes his head. "there's children present."

"mommy and daddy kiss all the time," violet tells him, and you all stifle laughs at the disgust in her voice.

"thanks for the help, man," san calls to yeosang as he heads off to grab the next carpooler. san ducks his head back into your car to ask, "what are you doing tonight?"

"hmm, nothing really," you think. "somebody has to help me clean the living room," you say with a glance to violet in the rearview, and she looks around like she can't hear you, "but other than that we're not busy. why?"

"let me take you out," san smiles.

"just me?"

"yep."

"what's our kid gonna do?"

"wooyoung can watch her," san shrugs, and you look at him skeptically. "orrr we could bother jen last minute-"

"she's got a date," you inform him, and san looks sad for a moment. "what's wrong with that?"

"that's gonna kill wooyoung," he sighs. "but whatever. he'll be fine with violet, he handles a third grade class on his own and so far he's only killed a fish."

"what?"

"baby, please," san starts to beg, grabbing one of your hands in his bigger ones and squeezing tight. "i would like to go on a date with you tonight. please say yes."

"of course i'll go out with you sannie," you reply, using your free hand to reach out and push some of his hair out of his eyes. "if you trust wooyoung with violet, then sure. just tell me where to be and when."

"be ready at seven," san smiles so big you're afraid it'll split his face. "i'll pick you up. dress sexy."

"san!"

"mommy, what does sexy mean?"

"sorry," san smiles still, leaning in to kiss you one last time. "see you later. bye bug!"

"bye daddy!"

you've always tried to be a good role model for violet, to show her what a strong woman looks like. you're not sure how that's translating tonight though, because you're stressing so much about this date with san that violet, in her little kid ways, is trying to comfort you. first she brought you her favorite stuffie to keep you company while you got ready. while you showered and stressed over your makeup, violet cleaned her toys in the living room without being asked. when she finished that and saw you were still frantic, she just climbed on your bed amidst the piles of clothes and started giving her own advice.

"daddy likes when you have sparkles on your eyes," she suggests, and you know she means glittery eyeshadow. san says it makes your eyes look like the night sky, and it always makes your stomach flip.

"if i wear that eyeshadow, then i need to wear one of these," you say as you hold up your outfit options. "these colors go together best."

"really?" violet scrunches her face up.

"yes? why?"

"that shirt is ugly," she says bluntly, pointing to the hanger in your right hand. "but i don't like that dress either. it's a yucky color."

the "yucky" color was an olive green, which you thought wasn't that bad, but violet had a point. the shirt was ugly now that you looked at it, and if she hated the dress too...

"what do you think i should wear, baby?" you ask as you try to organize the mess on your bed. "you pick."

"mmm, something blue," she says confidently, so you help her look. surprisingly, she puts together an outfit that you really like. violet stands in front of you in the floor length mirror, staring up at you proudly. you lean down to squeeze her into a tight hug, kissing her cheek before telling her this outfit is perfect.

violet looks so pleased with herself as you stand back up and watch her in the reflection. you focus a lot on how violet looks like san, but every once in a while you look at her and get this indescribable feeling of recognition in your chest. she is your daughter through and through, and you love sharing moments like these with her. as you stand there, you quickly notice that same glint of mischief you've seen in san's eyes before as she says, "do you think daddy's gonna call you sexy again?"

san comes over early with wooyoung in tow. the first thing he says when he enters your home isn't a hello, a nice to meet you, or anything remotely polite. he looks you dead in the eyes and asks, "why is jen on a date with seonghwa?!"

"excuse me?" you ask, looking from him to your date. san just shrugs before running off to find violet, leaving you all alone to answer wooyoung's interrogation.

"i mean, i've only been in love with her for years and instead of going out with me she picks this guy just because he's new and shiny and annoying.." wooyoung grumbles.

"you're annoying too, man," san says as he enters the room with violet in his arms.

"hi mr. wooyoung," she chirps, and wooyoung smiles warmly at her.

"hey violet! i'm your dad's best friend, so i think you and i will be best friends, too."

"i thought mommy was his best friend," violet pouts, and that sends wooyoung into another rant.

"you can have more than one best friend," you tell your daughter. "mommy has more than one best friend, and nobody is upset about that," you shoot wooyoung a look, and the mom eyes get him to shut up. "also, if you've been in love with jen for years then you've had plenty of chances to ask her out. sorry that seonghwa manned up and did it before you-"

"wooyoung, let me show you where all of vi's stuff is," san cuts in, afraid that you and wooyoung were about to get into a catty argument. you'd be late for your reservation if san let you keep going, so he runs through all the important things for wooyoung as you finish making violet's dinner. you don't hear san join you in the kitchen, too distracted by the sound of wooyoung and violet pretending to be what sounds like fighter pilots in the living room. you jump when san wraps his hands around your waist, sliding under the apron you tied over your dress to keep it pristine while you cooked.

"hey gorgeous," he whispers into your ear, and you feel goosebumps erupt over your skin as his lips trail from your ear down the column of your neck and to the exposed skin on your shoulder. he turns you around, hands still firmly around your waist, and he kisses you quickly. against your lips, he whispers, "this dress is gonna kill me."

"you'll be fine," you whisper back, hands rubbing over the crisp black fabric struggling to stay buttoned over his broad chest. you take him in then, the all black outfit making him look so handsome it's almost intimidating. the way his shirt is buttoned all the way to his neck, though...

"what's wrong?" san asks, his thumb rubbing at the crease between your eyebrows. "is my shirt wrinkly?"

"no, you just look like a waiter-"

"y/n," san whines, his hands squeezing your waist. "seriously baby?"

"well it's just," you start, your fingers finding their way to the collar of his shirt. "with all the buttons done up, yes, you look like a - very handsome - waiter. i think it'd look better this this," you mumble, undoing the top few buttons. now it's san's turn to get goosebumps, little tingles traveling across his skin as your fingers brush against his neck. you readjust his collar to show a little more skin, and you smile, satisfied with your work when you notice how flushed he is.

"better?" he asks as he clears his throat, and you nod.

"will you get violet in here? her food is ready."

once violet is set up at the kitchen table with her dinner, you and san start to say your goodbyes. you're running through violet's nighttime routine with wooyoung, and the boys assure you that you'll come home to your daughter in one piece.

"i've watched kids before, y/n," wooyoung says. "violet will be fine."

"you know i'll kick your ass if we come home and she's not," san says, and you hit his arm as violet calls out, "swear jar, daddy!"

"ok, we really need to go," you say. "we're gonna be late-"

"wait!" wooyoung shouts, getting up from the kitchen table with his phone out. "baby's first date. i need to get a picture."

"wooyoung," you groan as san says, "let him, baby. it'll be cute."

so you let wooyoung dramatically take pictures of you and san together, treating this more like senior prom than a date with someone you've known for almost ten years. san is eating this up, but you're trying to fight it. he's wrapping you in his arms, trying to kiss you for the photos, and you can't help it, you become a giggly mess. wooyoung is cooing over you two as he snaps the photos, but your eyes find violet watching from the kitchen. she's smiling, and it almost makes you tear up. you hope violet remembers moments like this as she gets old, and remembers how much you love san and how much he loves you. you want this same kind of love for her, something pure, protective, and so caring. you want this girl's standards so high, because she deserves all the love in the world. you wonder for a moment if you've found that kind of love, and when san calls your name to lead you out the door, you know. the look in his eyes tells you just how loved you are.

you and san share a beautiful evening together. san took you into the city to one of your favorite restaurants, and you were spoiled all night. dinner was delicious, the champagne was just strong enough that you're just tipsy but still very aware of how warm san makes you feel, and you share a dessert that you took turns feeding to each other. as far as "first" dates go, this was absolutely perfect.

neither of you wanted to leave, but you knew you had to get home for violet. she's on your mind as you make the short walk back to san's car, and a sign in the distance catches your eye. you turn to san with a twinkle in your eyes and say, "let's get donuts."

"what? baby, aren't you stuffed?" he asks, but you shake your head and grab his hand anyway. you lead the way to the donut shop a few blocks down, san following behind you with a content smile on his face. he'd follow you anywhere, he thinks. hell, if you wanted to run down this street until you ran out of road he'd follow you. he's glad the trek isn't that far though, but he wonders briefly if your shoes will be able to make the walk back to the car.

"violet will be so stoked to have donuts for breakfast tomorrow," you finally explain, and san nods along as you pick out what's left from the day. you're still gripping his hand firmly in yours, so you struggle to reach your purse when it's time to pay. san uses his free hand to take out his wallet, paying before you have a chance.

"still date night, still my treat," he whispers to you before kissing the top of your head. he takes the bag of donuts from the cashier as you both call out your thanks, and san sees you grab a couple napkins before he tugs you out of the store.

"gimme," you reach out for the bag, and san holds it out to you. you search for something, tongue peeking out between your lips in concentration. when you find what you want, you pull it out with one of the napkins, presenting a strawberry frosted donut with sprinkles. you take a bite, humming at the sweetness, and then you hold it up in front of san's face. "take a bite, it's really good."

"i'm full my love," he tells you, but you bump the donut into his mouth anyway. when he laughs, you try it again and aim for his open mouth, but he keeps managing to pull away. laughing softly, you come to a stop at a red light, and you decide to address something.

"san? you know i love you right?" you ask, and san looks at you in confusion. "what? you didn't know?"

"no, i knew," he shakes his head. "but, baby, i don't think we've said that to each other before."

"yes we have," you scoff, but san shakes his head again.

"as friends, yeah. but not seriously."

"oh."

"yeah."

"sorry?"

"sorry?" san chuckles, the light turning so you can cross the street. he watches you carefully try to navigate the bumpy crosswalk, and when you look back up at him he sees that you're blushing.

"yeah, i'm sorry i said it like that for the first time," you shrug. "like it wasn't a big deal."

"it's still a big deal," he assures you.

"but that's not how you're supposed to tell someone you love them!"

"i think we just do things differently, baby."

"whatever," you mumble. you're stopped at another light, so you turn to him fully, eyes holding his gaze, and say, "choi san, i love you."

"y/f/n," he replies, "i love you even more."

"oh really?"

"yeah," he nods. "like, way more."

"hmm."

"and you know what?" he asks. you hum in reply, and he continues. "i think your name would sound a loooot better with my last name."

"what?" you stop in your tracks. "are you-"

"i'm not proposing," he laughs. "just flirting, a little bit."

"oh so we're flirting now?" you ask. "then might i say, your ass looks great in those slacks."

"classy," san squeaks out. you're coming up on the street where you parked, and you stop san before he can turn. he's about to ask why, but you just point up toward the buildings ahead. it's a clear night, so you can almost see the stars in the night sky, but the skyline is glittering in front of you so beautifully it takes your breath away. you stand together admiring it, and only when you turn to find san already looking at you do you pull him in the direction of the car.

he unlocks the car from your side, but you stop him before he can leave. you wrap your arms around his neck, lean your face close to his, and whisper, "i love you so much, san." you kiss his forehead, then his nose, then his lips, and he boxes you in so you're pressed against the cool metal of the car as he deepens the kiss. you make out for what feels like only a few seconds, but when san finally pulls away you notice you're out of breath.

"let's go home," he whispers, a fire in his eyes you've only seen once before. you've got butterflies in your stomach as san drives home, a firm hand on your thigh the whole way. you're watching him the whole drive, and san tries to focus on the road. he steals glances as much as he can, and when you get close to your house you start to get antsy. you place your hand on his, pushing it ever so slightly farther up your leg, and san's other hand is gripping the wheel so hard he's afraid it'll snap. he speeds the final few minutes back to your house, and as soon as the car is off he's grabbing your face and crashing his lips on yours. your hands start at his shoulders and slowly make their way down...and then there's a buzzing sound coming from somewhere. you want to pull away and look for the phone, but san holds you tightly in place. you have to speak directly into his mouth to ask, "who is it?"

"who cares?" san mumbles back into your lips. he keeps kissing you, and the buzzing dies out. but then you feel your purse start to vibrate by your feet, and you push san away with a pop as his lips disconnect from yours, his mouth still pursed and eyes closed like he doesn't believe you actually pushed him away. you reach for your phone, mumbling about how it could be an emergency, and when you show him that it's wooyoung, you think you've been vindicated. you answer and ask quickly, "is violet alright?"

"i'm not getting paid for you two to make out in your driveway," wooyoung replies, and your head falls back with a sigh.

"you're not getting paid at all, wooyoung."

"what?!"

"thanks man!" san shouts into your phone. "totally ruined the moment!"

"good!" wooyoung shouts back. "i'm bitter! and bored! come inside!"

"i'm gonna punch him," san tells you as you collect your things. he's out of the car before you and rushes to open your door.

"you are not," you roll your eyes. "just get him out of the house quickly, please."

"fine," san grumbles as you get your keys out to unlock the door. wooyoung is faster though, tearing the door open with a big smile on his face.

"welcome home lovebirds," he greets you with a sweep of your arms. you almost gasp when you see your house, because it's cleaner than you've maybe ever seen it. you look to wooyoung in shock, and he shrugs. "told you, i was bored. violet's been asleep for about two hours, so i needed something to do."

"you cleaned my house," you say in disbelief, peeking around corners and seeing things neatly put away, blankets folded, dishes washed and dried. you turn to wooyoung and say, "i think i might love you."

"whoa," san jumps in. "let's not say things we don't mean."

"whatever," you say, still looking around in surprise. "wooyoung i take back anything bad i ever said about you."

"you said bad stuff about me?" he pouts, and you remind him, "jen? not asking her out when you're both obviously into each other?"

"you think jen's into me?" wooyoung asks, and it's his turn to be shocked.

"he's never gonna leave now," san sighs as he comes up behind you and tucks his head onto your shoulder. "i've told you that before, man."

"yeah, but you're not a reliable source," wooyoung chides. he's about to say something else, but you cut him off.

"listen, i'd be happy to tell you how in love jen is with you, but maybe another time," you say, trying to use the mom eyes on wooyoung again to get him to leave. it seems to work, because he looks between you and san with a knowing look in his eyes.

"right, right, you two probably wanna get busy," he nods, and you feel san groan rather than hear it. "i'll leave you to it, violet was telling me how she wants a baby brother-"

"alright man, i'll see you later," san says as he detaches from you and pushes wooyoung toward the door. you watch them bicker a little before san shoves his friend outside and closes the door softly after. he leans against it and sighs, eyes reopening to find you watching him. "c'mere."

you saunter over to him, hands cupping his chin as you place a chaste kiss to his lips. you think if you step back and head for your room he'll follow you, but instead he grabs you by the hips and spins you around so you're pressed against the door. he makes sure there's no space between you, your chest pressed to his and his hips slotted over yours as he leans down for another kiss. he slowly trails his lips down your chin, across your neck, and stops right where your collarbone dips down slightly. he sucks a kiss into your skin, relishing in the way your breath catches as you try to stay quiet. he stays there, biting and kissing at your neck, and you reach up with a shaky hand to snake your fingers through his hair. you pull him off of you, a sounds close to a growl coming from deep within san's chest. you stare into his eyes, that flame still flickering from before.

"let's go to our room," you say breathlessly, and san nods. before you can stop him, he's scooping you up in his strong arms and carrying you to the bedroom, a squeal dying on your lips as he kisses you harder. he's able to kick the door closed before he tosses you down on the bed. you watch as he undoes his belt and tosses it to the ground, and you giggle.

"somebody's eager," you tease, and san groans.

"been waiting too long for this, damn right i'm eager," he mumbles as he crawls on top of you. he kisses you again, and this time it's messier, more teasing, and it takes you back to the first time you and san were in this position. you remember how he made you feel like your skin was on fire, and you feel that same way now. he breaks away from you and just stares, which starts to weird you out.

"earth to sannie?" you whisper. "what are you doing?"

"admiring you?" he smiles. "sorry, i got distracted."

"you got distracted staring at me?"

"yeah?"

"you're sickening," you tell him before kissing him again. this time, you wrap your legs around his hips and flip him over so you're straddling his lap. san has that same dopey look on his face from a second ago, so you decide to do something that will break this sappy haze he seems to be in. "so i was going to take my dress off, but i'm not wearing much underneath it..."

"baby," he whines, holding your hips and kind of kicking around like he's having a tantrum. "why didn't you tell me that sooner?"

"we never would've left," you answer, and he shuts up. you lean down to kiss him, and over his lips you tell him, "and if we hadn't gone on our perfect date, i wouldn't have told you i loved you," you kiss him, "and knowing you, if we had stayed home, this would've been faster," kiss, "more frantic," kiss, "and what's the fun in that? we took our time getting here. why don't we enjoy it?"

"exactly," san growls, using his hands on your hips to pull you closer to the tent in his pants. you gasp at the friction, so san moves your hips again, and again, as he says, "we've waited this long. i don't want to wait anymore, just wanna make love to you."

"oh you do?" you ask as your hands find the buttons on his shirt. you trail kisses across his jawline as you undo his shirt, sitting up to admire his broad chest as your hands slide under the fabric and push it away. san refuses to let go of you, so you leave his shirt hanging off his shoulders as you trace over every freckle, every line, every curve of his chest. your hands trail lower, reaching the waistband of his pants, and san grabs both of your hands in one of his to stop you.

"take your dress off," he says lowly, and you feel his words in the pit of your stomach.

"not fair," you pout, but he shakes his head.

"wanna see you," he says, already breathless. his hands find the hem of your dress, fingers tracing along your skin and sending goosebumps across your thighs. he helps you push the skirt of the dress up, and he lets out a hiss of breath when he sees your panties, almost the same shade of blue as the dress. you keep pulling the fabric up and over your body, and san moans softly when he sees you weren't wearing a bra. "baby, you're gonna be the death of me."

"told you there wasn't much underneath," you laugh as you pull his hands from their slow ascent up your legs. you bring them to your chest to cup your boobs, and san sighs at the soft feeling. you lean back down over him, replacing your mouth on his. you make out like that for a while, san getting lost in the feeling of having you this way again. he doesn't know how he went years without this. he curses himself for all the lost time, but he smirks into your mouth as he thinks of all the ways he can make up for it in the future. you feel the shift in his features, so you pull back and ask, "what are you thinkin about?"

"about how much i love you?" he tries, and you don't fall for it. he squeezes your chest as he admits, "thinkin about all the ways i wanna have you this weekend."

"have me?" you tease him, and he nods. "what's the first one?"

"want you to ride me."

"you sure? we made a baby like that the last time," you tell him as you unbutton his slacks anyway. you're both impatient, so you don't even try to get his pants off, just low enough for you to cup the bulge in his boxers before you pull those down too. his cock springs free, and you spit in your hand before wrapping your fist around it. you stroke him a few times, even though it's not necessary. san might be harder than he's ever been right now, but you can't help it. he's moaning beneath you so beautifully, you get lost in the sound until he moans out your name.

"y/n, please," he groans. "just sit on it, please. need to feel you, baby."

"what if i wasn't ready?" you ask, but you pull your panties to the side anyway.

"could feel you soaking my pants," san smirks. "can't be cocky when i know exactly how bad you want me, baby."

"shut up," you mumble, trying to focus on guiding his tip to your entrance. you feel his tip against you and you hiss, you forgot how big he was. you lower yourself on his cock, moaning softly as san holds onto your hips for dear life to keep from bucking up into you. he waits for you to settle in his lap, no space left between you, and then he lets out a deep breath.

"feels so good, y/n," he sighs. "like your pussy was made for me."

"i need a minute," you tell him, and he rubs soothing circles into your skin.

"take your time my love," he says. your eyes are screwed shut, genuinely not used to feeling this full, and san reaches a hand up to your face to soothe the tension away. his other hand travels to your core, swiping through the arousal dripping from you so he can drag his finger up to your clit. he draws lazy circles around it, tapping over the bundle so softly. if you weren't so desperate for his touch, maybe you wouldn't be jerking at each little movement, but it's helping you relax.

you feel ready to move, and you place your hands over san's stomach for leverage as you pull off of him, leaving just the tip in. san's going crazy, he's trying to hard to go at your pace, to let you take your time, but he's losing that battle fast. he watches as you bounce above him, cupping your chest and focusing on your nipples so he doesn't put all his attention on how bad he wants to fuck up into you, to make another baby with you. he wants to enjoy this, like you said, he wants to take it slow if that's what you want, but god, he wants so much more.

"how do you feel baby?" he asks, and you whimper in response. that alone could kill a weaker man, he thinks, but the way you're gripping around his cock, how warm you are, how beautiful you sound, he's not going to last long. you put the final nail in his coffin when you whine out, "you feel so good sannie, missed you, missed your cock..."

san can't take it anymore, he grabs onto your hips again and slams you down onto his cock. he holds you there for a second, letting you feel every inch of him as you squirm in his lap, and just when he thinks you're about to tap out he grinds into you. you didn't think he could get deeper, but you can feel him in your gut. he pulls you up and guides you back down, and he does this a few more times before you finally gasp out, "'m close, sannie, 'm gonna come-"

and that's all he needs to hear. he holds you in place above him, braces himself from below, and starts fucking up into you. he's been waiting for this, god he's waited for this, and he wants to ingrain everything into his memory. the way you look, the way you sound, the way you feel. it's overwhelming, and he can't help it, he starts to come, fucking his load into you as he tries to get you to your own high. he brings his hand back to your clit, and you're gasping above him, coming so hard you think you see stars. san lets you catch your breath above him, his cock still buried deep inside you. he's also afraid that if you move, all his come will leak out, and selfishly, he doesn't want that to happen. he felt his heart skip an excited beat at the idea of having another kid with you, so he's happy to sit and wait until you're ready to move.

"fuck," you whisper as you start to separate from him. "fuck, that felt really good."

"and to think, you deprived yourself of that for so many years," san says with a shit eating grin. you pinch his chest as you get up, but he takes you by surprise and pins you down before you can leave the bed. "where ya goin?"

"to shower?" you reply, and san smirks above you.

"who said i was done lovin you though?"

san wakes up the next morning and immediately puts his arms out to find you. he sighs happily as he pulls you into his chest, nuzzling his head into your hair. he takes a deep breath in, thinking not for the first time that he would be happy staying like this for years. he doesn't know how you expect him to leave once this weekend is over, condemned to come and go just to end up at his lonely apartment each night. he understands why you both decided on this set up, but he hates it. he'll just have to find a way to convince you that you'd be miserable without san here 24/7, and he thinks he's got a good idea to start.

you'd think the three rounds last night would be enough for any regular man, but not san. now that he's had you again he can't help himself. even holding you and feeling your warm breath hit his chest has him shifting to accommodate the growing problem beneath the sheets. he has no idea how he was able to wait years to fuck you, because he can't imagine waiting another second right now. he slowly rolls you back onto your pillow, hoping he won't wake you just yet. he makes sure you're comfortably laid back and then he pushes the sheets away, crawling down until his face is level with your bare stomach.

he leaves light kisses across your skin, starting above your bellybutton and trailing down. he sucks a couple hickeys on the skin of your hips, tracing his thumbs over the reddened marks in satisfaction. you begged him not to leave too many marks last night, but he looks up proudly and sees the result of your lost fight. there's only one or two spots on your neck, but your collarbone and your chest are a different story. san wants you to know you're his, finally his, so if he has to leave daily love bites on your skin to remind you, he will. happily.

he kisses one of the marks on your hips now, licking the skin just to taste you. he feels himself get excited at the thought of really tasting you, and he continues his descent down to your core. he thought about this as you were falling asleep last night, but he's never really seen your pussy. the few times you've had sex, there were just other things on his mind, so now that he can, san takes his time admiring you. he uses his thumbs to pull your lips apart, moaning softly at the sight of his come dripping out of you or dried on your skin. he leans in and places a kiss over your clit, and your legs jerk, but you stay otherwise still. that won't do, san thinks, so he delicately traces your entrance, collecting some of the wetness that's still pouring from you, and strokes your clit. he licks over it carefully, wanting to savor this moment.

his ears perk up as he hears you start to whimper, so he cups his lips around your bundle of nerves and sucks ever so slightly. his fingers trail back to your entrance, dipping in just so, and he sets a steady rhythm of playing with your clit and easing his fingers into your core. he's focused on his work, determined to make you feel good, but he wants more. he switches his fingers up to your clit, your wetness helping them glide over you easily. he kisses down your pussy until he gets to your entrance and dips his tongue in. you stir again, so san repeats his movements, determined to wake you up. he loses himself at the taste of you, and when he thinks about last night, how many times he came inside you, he moans into your core. he's getting impatient, his senses drowning in you. all he can feel is you, all he can taste is you, all he hears is you calling his name...wait-

"sannie, fuck," you gasp above him, your hands pulling at his hair to get him away from your sensitive core, but he holds strong. you try to use your thighs to squeeze his head and push him away, overwhelmed by the feeling of his lips on your pussy, but he reaches up and holds your legs apart so he can eat you like a man starved. now that you're awake, he doesn't have to keep quiet. he's drunk on your pussy, moaning and slurping obscenely, mumbling about how good you feel, how good you taste, how he wants to make you feel good. you can't help it, you start to come, gasping above him trying to take a deep breath. san feels you tighten around his tongue, but he keeps going. he keeps eating your pussy like he'll never get the chance again, and your sleepy haze mixed with the way he's making you feel has your vision spotty and your mind in a haze. he gets you to come again soon after, and you finally whine his name loud enough for him to look up at you, his mouth lazily teasing you as you exhale, "well. good morning."

"morning baby," he smiles, your arousal all over his chin. you whine, and he strokes your thighs comfortingly as he asks, "can you give me another one? still hungry."

"we have donuts."

"they're not as sweet as you," he insists, diving back in. you can't keep up with him, your senses so overloaded with san that you're begging for something but you don't know what. san works you up to another release before giving you a break, crawling up your body and trailing kisses the whole way. you try slapping his chest, but the movement is so weak it only makes him laugh. "what are you doing, love?"

"trying to hit you," you reply. "i'd kick you but i don't think my legs work."

"good, i did my job then," san says happily. he collapses on top of you, and you blush at the feeling of the mess between your legs. with san's chin on your chest, staring at you so content, you flick his nose and he bursts into laughter. "what was that for?!"

"for being perfect. and for turning me into a shell of a woman. i can't move, seriously."

"need me to help you into the shower, doll?"

"no," you shake your head. "i don't trust what you'd do in there."

"nothing out of the ordinary," he smirks, and you flick his nose again. he moves quick, biting your finger before you can move away, and you squeal. with your finger between his teeth he asks, "so? shower?"

"if you can carry me, then yeah," you give in. san pulls himself out of bed, easily lifting you from the bed as you raise your arms to wrap around his neck. he places you delicately on the bathroom counter, laughing with you as you squeal over the cold marble. he runs a bath for you, insisting that if your legs don't work you shouldn't be standing in the shower. he helps you into the warm water once it's ready, and you assume he's going to join you but instead he turns back to your room. "baaabyyy," you whine, and he's in the doorway immediately.

"what's wrong? was it too much? are you sore?" he asks in worry, but you shake your head and make grabby hands for him in response. he smiles as he comes closer, holding your hands in his as he asks, "are you always this needy after sex?"

"yep," you reply. "get used to it. and get in the tub with me."

"can't," san sighs, dipping down to give you a kiss anyway. "i'm getting dressed and then checking on our daughter."

"she's probably still asleep," you say as you lay your head on the cool porcelain edge of the tub.

"then i won't be gone long," san tells you before ducking back out of the bathroom. you keep your head on the tub though, admiring him from afar. you love having him here, you think. you wonder if he'd be ok with staying longer than just a weekend.

while san took care of violet, you got an idea. you enjoyed the rest of your bath, but as soon as you were dressed you got down to business.

you were buried amongst boxes, piles of clothes, and shoes you'd never wear when san and violet come looking for you. you hear violet run into your bedroom calling for you with san right behind her, not sure if you were decent or not. when they don't see you in the bedroom, san peeks into the bathroom as vi goes for your closet, and she giggles when she sees you on the floor.

"mommy, what are you doing?" she asks, kneeling down in the mess anyway.

"i'm cleaning out my closet, bug," you answer. you push a box toward her and say, "call for your dad, i want him to look through those."

"i'm right here," san appears, popping his head through the door. he looks at you quizzically, then decides to go with it and kneel next to violet.

"i'm cleaning out my closet," you repeat. "i want you to go through that box next to vi, that's all of her work from preschool. you can keep any of it that you want."

"really?"

"yeah, we've got plenty of it around the house, and i've basically made wallpaper out of it for my office, so i figured you might like some," you shrug.

"thank you baby," he smiles, dimples on full display. you watch fondly as he settles on the ground, violet climbing into his lap almost as a reflex. they sit together and go through everything, violet giving commentary on what she remembers and calling on you to explain what she doesn't. you're constantly in motion, trying to organize your clothes and make piles of what you can donate. you turn to your family every so often for opinions, violet giving it to you straight when she thinks something is ugly, and san being no help at all. he just says you'll look great in whatever you're holding up, and borders on compliments too vulgar for your daughter to hear. it's a good thing violet knows how to speak her mind, because with her brutal honesty and a good idea of what clothes will drive san insane, you're left with the perfect amount of clothes.

you won't take any outside input on which shoes to donate, though. that's a personal decision for you, and san is smart enough to stay out of it. violet, on the other hand, picks up her favorite shoes and tries them on, laughing with glee when she trips and san has to dive to catch her. she asks if she can keep some of the shoes for herself, but knowing how expensive they are, you try to find nice ways to tell her to back off. san promises to buy her "mommy shoes" and that seems to satisfy her, but now she's bored and wants to go play. you shoot san a sympathetic glance as he's pulled out of the closet by your hyperactive kid, and then you're alone. you step back and look at the space you were able to clear, and you think that should be enough for san's things. you can always use the hall closet if he needs more space, but he's a man, how many clothes does he need?

"hey," he whispers from behind you, making you jump. you would turn around to talk to him, but he wraps his arms around you and sways your bodies from side to side as he informs you, "i got her set up with a movie. i love that girl, but i needed a break."

"thank you for giving me the morning to myself," you tell him, leaning your head back on his shoulder. you turn to place a kiss on his jaw, whispering against his skin, "you're so wonderful to me. and to violet. we're very lucky ladies."

"and i'm a lucky man," he responds. his eyes fall to the pile of violet's work on the floor, and he separates from you to pick it up. he shows you the stack and says, "got enough for my apartment and my office. there's not much left in the box, though."

"that's fine," you brush it off. "i needed the space in here, so."

"hey, did you eat this morning?" san asks while he tucks violet's work into his duffel bag. when he stands up fully he points an accusing finger at you. "i wore you out twice and you haven't eaten, that's not good for your health."

"you're not good for my health," you scoff. "last time i was this sore was after labor."

"sorry," san says sheepishly. he reaches for your hand and tugs you toward the door. "come on, let's get you some food and then hang with violet. i put on one of your favorites."

the rest of the weekend passes by in complete bliss. it's like that night with san bridged any gaps that timing and poor decisions might have created between you, and you've never felt more in love or more like a family than you do right now. but there's a pit in your stomach as you sit with san and violet at the dinner table, knowing that san needs to go back to his apartment tonight. he didn't pack any work clothes, so he really needs to leave, but he so doesn't want to. he wonders how many more weeks he can get by with going to his place just long enough for you to miss him and call him back home. meanwhile, you're wondering how you can inconspicuously get jen and wooyoung to help move san's things to your house on such short notice. san checks the time, and you feel the pit in your stomach tear open as he stands to leave.

"alright girls," he sighs, putting his dishes in the sink. "i guess i gotta go. need to get ready for the week."

"i'll miss you daddy," violet pouts, and san mimics her with a pout of his own.

"i'll miss you even more bug, you have no idea."

you stand and clear your own plate as violet sadly pushes her peas around with her fork, and you catch san staring at her from the doorway. "what's wrong, san?"

"i don't wanna go," he admits. his voice is so quiet you can barely hear him, but he can't say it any louder. it hurts leaving you two, and san isn't sure how many more trips he can take before his heart just kicks it.

"then don't go," you shrug. "move in with us."

"are you serious?" san asks, a smile slowly breaking across his face. he takes two steps and he's in front of you, hands on your waist, asking you again, "are you serious?"

"yeah," you nod. "violet? what do you say? should daddy stay here forever?"

"and ever?!" she adds, making san laugh, a happy squeaky sound that sends your heart soaring.

"i'll stay forever and ever and then some," he agrees. he pulls you into the tightest hug known to man, spinning you around the kitchen as he whispers to you, "this is finally happening."

"it took us long enough, right?" you whisper back, gripping onto his shirt. you squeal as san pushes you off balance, and you realize he's trying to move you toward the kitchen table. he lets go of you long enough to lift violet into his arms and smush her between you both, and then the spinning continues.

"my girls," he smiles proudly. "i love my girls."

that monday at work, san feels like superman. he woke up with your head on his chest, he ate breakfast with his girls, and he had a sing along in the car with violet as he drove her to school. he put works of violet art up in his office (and a couple on the gym bulletin board, she was very embarrassed), and he walked violet to her classroom before carpool started so he could tell jen the good news.

"hey violet!" jen greets her, and violet runs up to give her a hug. "how was your weekend?"

"good!" violet replies. "daddy spent the night, and then mommy told me he was staying forever and ever, and then this morning i saw mommy and daddy naked wrestling-"

"she saw you what?" jen hisses, and san has to look embarrassed.

"um, yeah, i wanted to celebrate my first morning moved in, so...we forgot to lock the door, and...yeah. it's been a long morning at the choi household," san explains, and jen pushes his arm surprisingly hard.

"so you moved in?!"

"kind of?" san rubs the spot jen basically punched. "y/n asked me to move in last night, so we filled our cars with some of my stuff and brought it to the house. i'll really move in this weekend."

"well, if you need me and wooyoung to help, you know where to find us," jen offers.

"you and wooyoung?" san wiggles his eyebrows, and jen nods eagerly.

"yep, we're an item now. you and y/n aren't the only ones who did some naked wrestling this weekend."

"please don't say that," san groans, and thankfully, the bell rings to alert teachers to their stations. san stoops down to kiss violet's forehead as he says goodbye, and he rushes off to his carpool spot. he hears jen say as he leaves, "violet, you need to knock before you go into mommy and daddy's room..."

you have to admit, living with san is bliss. you didn't know how easy it could be having someone else around to take care of violet, and you especially didn't know how nice it would be to have someone around to take care of you. san was quick to show his love with actions and words, and all he asked for in return was your time. if he had his way, he'd spend every second of every day with you and violet. it hurts to watch you leave for work in the mornings, and it hurts him again when he parts from violet at school. at home, he's always attached to one of you. some nights he's lucky, and he gets you both.

tonight, san stopped by the store for you on the way home because you needed some last minute things for dinner. san got what you needed, plus some wine he knew you'd like, and he got violet her favorite ice cream without her even asking. he had everything ready for you when you got home, and since violet helped get the ingredients she wanted to help cook, too. san always stays in the kitchen with you as you fix dinner, because he likes to clean up after you as you go. he claims it's efficient, but it's also a chance for you to catch up on your days. you're happy to have violet with you tonight, but it did ruin one of your mom secrets.

"what can i help with, mommy?" she asks once she's set up next to you, standing on her tippy toes on top of her step stool.

"you can help me tear the spinach to go into the spaghetti," you show her how to do it, and she copies your actions with a frown on her face.

"what's wrong bug?" san asks, given up on the dishes. he just wants to watch you and violet work together.

"where's the 'pinach going?"

"into the sauce, baby," you answer her. "i always put it into the sauce, it's yummy."

"do i like 'pinach?"

"you like it in spaghetti."

eating dinner together is one of san's favorite things, too. he loves the conversations that come out of violet, and he feels so privileged to see her personality growing and maturing before his eyes. she's an incredible kid, and san reminds you constantly that you did a phenomenal job raising her. you insist that his genes made her an angel to begin with, and that makes san blushy and shy enough to change the subject. he starts to ask you about a work thing, so there's no attention on violet for a moment. she starts giggling though, and when you turn back to her you see that she's slurped noodles so quickly that there's sauce all over her face. it reminds you of a similar mess when she was a baby, so you show san pictures and videos of baby vi that have his stomach doing flips. he asks you to send him those, and you do as he says while he and violet start to clear your plates.

you move into the living room to get ready for one of your favorite shows. it's coming back after a hiatus, so you made it clear this morning you didn't care what san and violet did as long as you got to watch. what you didn't expect was for san to come in from the kitchen with violet in his arms, dumping her down on top of you in a giggly pile. san leaves to grab your favorite blanket and takes his time tucking it around you and vi before he slides in next to you, intertwining his legs with yours and pulling you so your head will lay on his chest. he wraps his arms around you and violet, and sighs happily when he's all done.

"whatcha doin?" you turn your head to his as he flips through the channels, looking for your show.

"we're watching this show together?" he says like it's obvious. "violet told me there's cool stunts."

"and the old guy is funny!" she adds.

"see? cool stunts and a comedic grandpa, i'm sold," san says, kissing the top of your head as the show starts.

"ok, but no talking until the commercial breaks," you mumble, pulling san's arm further around your shoulders so you can hold his hand over your chest.

"is that the old guy?" san asks a minute later.

"baby," you whine. "i said no talking!"

"i have to go potty," violet says a few minutes after that, climbing over the pile of her parents. san watches her go then turns to you, calling your name.

"sannie, please, it's almost a commercial-"

"i want another one," he whispers excitedly, and you look confused for a second before it clicks.

"another kid?" you confirm, and he nods eagerly. "right now? i don't think we have time-"

"no baby," he chuckles. "just. whenever. but sooner rather than later, please. i want at least three, so-"

"three?!" you shriek. "that's a lot of kids for me to push out of my-"

"daddy, can i have some ice cream?" violet asks as she returns from the bathroom.

"of course baby," he responds, sliding his limbs from under and around you slowly. he comes back with violet quickly, and she plops down next to you with san on her other side. they eat in silence, which you're thankful for since your show is back on, but san calls your name and you stifle a groan. you look up to find him holding a spoonful of ice cream out for you, and you let him feed it to you with a soft look in his eyes. he wipes a dribble from the side of your mouth, presenting his finger to you. he tells you with his eyes to taste that next, and as you stare up at him and suck on his finger, you feel your skin erupt in goosebumps. you let go of his finger with a pop and then basically hide under the blanket until the show is over.

as the credits roll, you look to san and see violet curled up in his side, the empty ice cream tub long forgotten. san's carefully stroking violet's back, and when he catches you staring he reaches a hand out for you. you grab it, bringing his knuckles to your lips so you can kiss each one before speaking. against his skin, you whisper, "i'm ready to have another kid with you. but let's start with one, ok?"

agreeing to have another kid with san might have been a bad idea. if you thought he was all over you before, now he really can’t keep his hands off you. it's a sisyphean task getting him out of bed in the morning. he grabs onto whenever you pass each other in the house, stealing kisses that he hopes will lead to more. he's rushing through bedtimes with violet so you can have more "mommy daddy time" in violet's words. it's so bad even your kid has noticed! but....you're not complaining. you pretend to hate it, you pretend to resist just to give in later, but really you're eating this up. a match made in heaven, you two!

after a particularly active morning, you decided to work from home for the day. you were feeling under the weather anyway, so it was nice having the option. especially on days like today when san forgets his lunch. he called you about an hour into his day in a panic, already whining that he was going to starve to death. you roll your eyes but listen intently before offering to bring it to him. halfway through the call you found his lunchbox looking lonely in the fridge, so you were happy to spend your lunch break doing something for san. before you head out, you tear off a paper towel and write him a little note like you do when you pack violet's lunch, and then you're out the door.

san said he would be in his office, so you park in the teacher lot and make the short walk to the gym. it's its own building behind the school, so it's quiet as you make your way to san. your footsteps echo on the wooden floor, and an eager san slides out of his office in his desk chair. like an excited puppy, he jogs to meet you halfway and wraps you in a hug, peppering kisses over your face along with whispered thanks.

"what would i do without you, baby?" he asks.

"starve, apparently," you tease, pinching his cheek. "so i guess i'll see you at home?"

"eat lunch with me," he begs, not giving you a chance to answer. he takes the lunchbox in one hand and wraps his other around your waist, leading you to his office. he sits in the rolling chair and walks it back over to his desk while you stand at the door. "you waitin for an invite, doll? get in here."

"where do i sit?" you ask, semi-distracted by the way san has decorated his office. your heart warms seeing so much of violet's work in here, and you blush as you notice the pictures san has printed of you and violet to tack up along with her art. san hasn't replied, so you turn to find him patting his lap with a wiggle of his eyebrows, and you just laugh at him. "i'll stand."

"at least stand closer to me," he whines. "so far away over there."

you sigh, but walk to his desk anyway. you hop up so you're sitting on the one space free of junk, but that puts you directly in front of san. he opens your legs slightly, and you feel your heart rate spike, but he just scoots closer and starts unpacking his lunch. you watch as he focuses on tearing his sandwich equally, his tongue caught between his teeth as he works. you take this time to snatch his chips, feeding one or two to san as he searches for a napkin to wrap your sandwich in. he finds the note you stuffed in there and smiles, a blush creeping over his cheeks as his dimples appear.

"what's this?" he asks in a squeaky voice.

"reminder of how much i love you," you shrug.

"i love you too," san says happily as he straightens the napkin. "thanks for bringing my lunch."

"you said that already."

"well let me thank you another way?" he asks, his hands drifting to your knees and sliding up your thighs. you try to close your legs, pushing him off, but his grip is stronger than yours.

"san, there's kids here."

"so? we're trying to make one-"

"sannie!" you hiss. "no! not at school."

"but no one's gonna be anywhere near the gym for another thirty minutes!"

"what about wooyoung? or jen? don't they come check on you when you don't eat lunch in the teacher's lounge?"

"they can deal," san says, leaning down to trail kisses up your leg. as much as you want to, and god you want to, you can't. not here. so you use your foot to catch the rolling chair and push san back. he thuds into his bulletin board with an "oof!" and you laugh as you hop down. "what are you doing? come back here-"

"ah, i'll see you at home," you tell him. you're almost to the door when he catches up with you, holding onto your waist like his life depends on it.

"just one kiss before you go," he whispers, and you feel yourself nodding before you can say no. he captures your lips in a fierce kiss, moaning as he slides his hands around to grip your ass, but you grab his hands and pull them off of you. you give him one last kiss and then you step back, pointing a finger at him as you say, "you are trouble, mr. choi."

"and you're sexy, mrs. choi," he smirks, watching you leave.

"not your missus!" you shout back, turning to catch him still watching you walk away. he waves teasingly, blowing a kiss that you catch and place over your heart. "i'll see you at home, you crazy man."

san tried using the rest of his lunch to plan, but you were right - jen and wooyoung came to find him before lunch ended, so it's really a good thing you didn't take up his offer to fuck in his office. wooyoung makes himself at home, playing with some of the loose equipment as jen asks why san didn't show for lunch.

"i forgot my lunch, so y/n had to bring it to me," he explains, and wooyoung gasps.

"you had sex in here!" he shouts, pointing an accusing finger at san.

"no, we didn't," san sighs. "but i wanted to."

"y/n said no?" jen asks, and san nods. "of course she was the voice of reason."

"what do you both want?" san asks. "shouldn't you be with your classes right now?"

"there's an assembly after lunch, so they're the vp's responsibility," wooyoung smiles evilly. "so you didn't even get some head while y/n was here?"

"wooyoung!" jen shrieks, and he shuts up. "sorry he's disgusting."

"i'm more sorry for you, you're dating the guy," san teases, and jen blushes. "so you both came here to bother me? no other reason?"

"i suspected you had a visit from the milf, so i came to get the low down on that," wooyoung replies.

"and if y/n was here i wanted to talk to her," jen says. "i need to have one conversation with someone sane today."

"you're talking to me!" san says, and jen laughs. "ouch."

"whatever man," wooyoung says as he walks toward the door. "if you're gonna lie and say nothing happened here, then i'm outie 5000."

"actually, i do want to tell you something," san starts nervously. "it's nothing saucy, but i think i need your help. both of you."

"anything," jen says, and wooyoung nods in agreement.

"great," san smiles. "well, uh, i think i'm going to propose to y/n..."

there's a daddy daughter dance at the end of the week. san, of course, will be taking violet. that means you need to go shopping! violet needs a new dress, and san has to buy a shirt that matches. violet chose a light purple, her favorite, and insisted on you getting something that color, too. since you were just spending the night at home, you tried to buy a light purple pajama set, but san vetoed it. he made you pick out a dress of your own despite you saying you won't wear it but for five minutes.

"but now we have a family outfit," san smiles. "we can wear it all the time."

"violet, your dad is embarrassing," you say to your daughter, and she nods.

"whatever," he sighs, taking the clothes from you and violet anyway. "i'm just excited to do family stuff with you."

"is family stuff like mommy daddy stuff?" violet asks, and you let san handle that one. you've stopped at the jewelry section, wondering if you can find a necklace for violet to wear. you play with the charm around your neck now, the heart necklace violet gave you. as you're spinning the display around, you hear two sets of footsteps come up behind you.

"whatcha doin mommy?" violet asks, tugging on your hand. you pick her up and point to one of the necklaces, answering, "trying to find something that matches your new dress. do you like this?"

"ooo, yes," she nods at the flower charm you're showing her. "can daddy have one too?"

"not sure that's my style, bug," san squints at the necklace.

"and it's a kid size, it wouldn't fit around your beefy neck," you point out. you look around and your eyes light up as they fall on what you're looking for. you grab violet's necklace and head to a display of rings, holding the necklace up to find something that goes with it. "daddy can wear a ring to match with you at the dance. how's that sound vi?"

you get an enthusiastic yes from her, so the three of you look quietly for a moment. san holds something up and asks what you think, but you shake your head.

"that's too dainty for you," you say.

"for you," san corrects. "do you like it for you?"

"hmm," you inspect the ring, and shake your head. "no, i think i prefer gold jewelry."

"what about this?" san holds up another ring, and you like this one. it's a simple gold band with a purple gem set on a raised back, but you nod and offer san your left hand since violet is currently occupying your other arm. san slides the ring onto your ring finger, but it won't get past your knuckle. san tries his best, but it won't budge, and you can't help but laugh. "hmph. you have chubby fingers."

"hey!" you whine, "that's what having a kid does to you. parts of your body are never the same again."

"really?" san asks. "i never knew that."

"yeah, there's a lot of weird stuff that happens with pregnancy," you shrug. "but i got used to it."

"you'll have to tell me everything soon," san says, cupping your head to pull you in for a forehead kiss. he's distracted now, thinking about something else, and starts to turn back in the direction of the registers when violet reminds him, "daddy! the rings!"

"oh right, thanks bug," he winks at her, and you kiss violet's cheek in thanks. san finds a bigger size and tries it for good measure. it's a perfect fit.

"do you still want a ring?" you ask san, and he searches for a moment before holding one out to you.

"what about this?" he passes it to you, and you cock your head in confusion. "what? you don't like it?"

"hm, i like it," you tell him. "it goes with mine."

"even better," san smiles.

the night of the dance can't get here soon enough. violet has been bouncing off the walls excited for it all week, and you know san is looking forward to it too. he told you that he gets stuck overseeing the dance every year because it's in the gym, and he admitted this was the kind of thing he dreamt of taking his own kid to some day. he seems a little nervous though, which you think is sweet.

because he had to plan the dance, the week leading up to it is a busy one at your house. san is constantly stepping outside to take calls, and he's running off to errands throughout the week to make sure everything is perfect. he's taken over the coat closet, claiming there's things in there violet can't see, but he won't let you look in there, either. one afternoon, he catches you peeking and turns a bright red.

"what are you doing!" he squeaks. "you can't see this!"

"why not?" you laugh. "i'm not going to the dance."

"yeah, but if you see it, and then violet asks what you saw, you'll tell her-"

"i'm not a snitch," you scoff.

"well you're usually on her side," san rolls his eyes.

"hey, i'm on your side all the time, babe," you assure him. "but girls gotta stick together, so i guess you have a point."

"exactly," san sighs, checking that the closet is closed before pulling you in for a hug. he inhales deeply and lets out a breath of relief once you're wrapped around him, and you rub his back soothingly.

"you're doing a great job, my love," you tell him. "it's gonna be a great night, everyone will have so much fun, and it'll be all thanks to you."

"i hope you're right," san says, and he hopes you don't catch the quiver of nerves in his voice. he also hopes you can't feel the box of the engagement ring poking out of his pocket. you caught him before he could slip it into the closet, and he's starting to sweat having you so close to it. even though he doesn't want to, he slowly lets you go, stroking your hair as he gets an idea, "hey, can i ask you to do something for me?"

"anything."

"anything?" he smirks, and you smack his arm. "no, i was wondering if you could make pancakes for dinner?"

"really? that's it?" you ask, but he nods like he's completely serious.

"i hear you're better at them now," he teases. "but, i don't know, i've just been so stressed this week, and that's like a comfort meal for me-"

"oh sannie, yes, yes i'll make you pancakes," you promise. "you want chocolate chips?"

"i love you," he says as he nods vehemently. you giggle as you stand on your toes to kiss his cheek.

"dinner will be ready in about thirty minutes then," you tell him. "unless i burn the house down, then we're just going to waffle house."

it's the night of the dance. to anyone walking by, it might sound like your house is having a party, but it's just you blaring music while everyone gets ready. you're already in your dress, so you're helping violet while san showers. he was so jumpy when he got home, you're really worried about him. this dance must have been a lot of work for him, so you're glad he'll get to rest when it's done. once san and violet leave, you've got a riveting night of laundry ahead of you so san can come home to a clean, comfy bed to collapse in. you know he'll need it after the week he's had.

you're mentally trying to organize the loads of laundry you have to do while you work on violet's hair. she's digging through your make up bag because you promised she could use eye shadow and lip gloss tonight, and you're both humming along to the music. you don't hear her stop and say something to you, and you certainly don't hear whoever is knocking at the door. violet twists around to look at you, ruining the heart shape you were trying to pull her hair into.

"aw, vi, now i have to start over-"

"mommy, someone's knocking on the door," she cuts you off. you reach for your phone to turn the music down, and she's right, there's someone frantically knocking at the front door. you walk out warily, unsure of who it could be, but you spot a flash of jen's hair through the window. when you open the door, she looks relieved.

"good, you're dressed," she breathes out. upon further inspection, she frowns and says, "but you haven't done your hair? no make up? y/n we're gonna be late."

"what?" you're confused. late for what?

"san didn't tell you? we need you to chaperone the dance," jen explains as she steps inside. that's when you notice she's dressed up too. "one of the fifth grade teachers was supposed to help me with the photo booth, but she's puking everywhere-"

"ew, gross," you stop her. "i mean, san didn't tell me anything, but i guess i can help? i'm not doing anything tonight." looks like you needed this dress after all!

"great," jen smiles. "now about your hair..."

seconds later, violet is standing in front of you while you sit on a kitchen chair as jen works on your hair for you. you're still trying to finish violet's, and then you need to help her with the make up she picked out. you could care less how you look, you'd rather violet get the pampering she wants, but jen is insisting that you "at least need to look put together tonight."

"hey, is san still here?" you ask suddenly. "i don't hear the shower anymore, but he's being awfully quiet if he's home."

"his car wasn't here when i pulled up," jen shrugs. "ok, hair's done! now where's your make up?"

"in violet's room," you reply. she goes to grab it, and when she returns you're done with violet's hair. "how's our girl look?"

"just as beautiful as her momma," jen replies, and she laughs when you and violet blush the same way.

"careful, i'm a taken woman," you warn.

"i could totally take san in a fight for your hand."

"wooyoung would be pretty upset though," you remind her, and now it's her turn to blush. "is he gonna be there tonight?"

"yeah, he's helping san with some of the set up i think."

"so what time do we need to get there?" you ask as you work on vi's make up. "keep your eyes closed, baby."

"ok mommy."

"um, we might need to leave soon," jen barely answers your question.

"that's vague."

"we should leave in fifteen minutes."

"shit, ok," you mumble, then you catch yourself. "jen, can you find my purse? put a quarter in the jar on the counter please."

"two," violet corrects you. "you said the fuck word when the elastic in my hair snapped."

"violet!" you and jen screech.

"now you need to put a quarter in the swear jar," jen jokes, but you have to lecture violet on not using those words while you finish up her eye shadow. you ask her to purse her lips so you can do the lip gloss, and jen says, "she really looks like san, doesn't she?"

"yeah, she does," you smile proudly. "they're both pretty cute, huh?"

"if you have another kid do you think it'll look like you?"

"we'll have to wait and see i guess," you say as you cap the lip gloss. "vi, go like this," and you show her how to rub the lip gloss in. she gets it all over her lips, so you lick your thumb to wipe it off as she tries to squirm away. "alright, my turn. can you show jen where your shoes are baby? i'll finish getting ready if you can help her with shoes and maybe a jacket."

"on it," jen nods. "we gotta leave in ten!"

as promised, ten minutes later, you and violet are in jen's car. you wanted the fun to continue for violet, so you've got music playing as jen speeds toward the school. she kept saying you weren't late, but the way she's driving you wonder if she's lying.

a few minutes later, you can see the school in the distance. you don't know why, but your stomach starts doing flips at the idea of seeing san. you know he's going to look great, so that's enough to make you all excited, but you're more interested in seeing what he's worked so hard on all week. you're staring at the gym as it gets closer, and then jen drives right past the school entirely.

"um, hello?" you call out. "earth to jen? we just passed the school."

"we're not going to the school," jen says simply. what's going on? you look to violet in the backseat, but she's staring out the window, kicking her feet the way you know she does when she's excited. you sit back with a "humph!" and watch as jen drives you to the park down the street. she pulls into the gravel lot and turns off her car before turning to you. "get out."

"what? jen, what is going on?" you ask, but jen is out of the car and won't respond. you're confused as hell, but you unbuckle your seatbelt anyway as jen gets violet out of her car seat. jen meets you at the back of her car, pointing off to the path in the distance.

"you need to go over there."

"i'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's happening," you stand firm.

"come on mommy!" violet chirps. she holds her tiny hand out to you, and you look to jen. she just smiles, so you take violet's hand and walk with her to the wooded path.

"baby, where are we going?" you ask, but violet shakes her head and mimes zipping her lips. can't argue with that, so you succumb to the circumstances and follow her lead. you're looking around, trying to catch any kind of clue. as you come over a hill, you see a clearing in the distance, and you gasp when you see what's waiting for you.

underneath an ivy covered arch stands san. he's dressed in his outfit for the dance, dark grey slacks and a vest with the light purple shirt underneath. he left his hair natural, how you like it, so the ends of his bangs just barely brush over his glittering eyes. he's smiling at you so brightly he could be the sun, and you look down to find violet smiling back at him the same way.

as you get closer, you notice the flower bushes are all violets. san must have brought more though, because there's flower pots and bouquets all around. you close your eyes and take a deep breath, admiring the soft scent flooding your senses. when you open your eyes, san is approaching you shyly, and violet squeezes your hand. you squeeze back even tighter.

"hi gorgeous," he greets you, his voice soft and quiet, like he doesn't want to disturb this moment. he leans in to kiss your cheek, then kneels and says to violet, "you look beautiful, my love. thank you for your help."

"you knew about this?" you ask violet, and she looks to san before she responds.

"YES! daddy told me all these secrets and said mommy can't know, and if i pinky promised not to tell then he would get me the princess bed i want," she explains rapidly, and you look to a sheepish san.

"i'm not proud of the bribe, but she did a good job. you had no idea?"

"san, what is this?" you ask in a nervous whisper. he lifts violet into his arms and then offers you a hand. as he walks you over to a bench beneath the ivy arch, he begins.

"this was my favorite park as a kid," he says as he sits you down and carefully places violet between you. he holds onto your hand as he speaks, his thumb stroking over your knuckles softly. "and when i moved back here after college, this was the first place i came. i missed you so much already, and i needed someplace to clear my head. i found myself here a lot, actually. i would walk the entire path just thinking about you, wondering how you were, wondering if i should reach out, try to make things right. it became a habit. i'd come here every time i missed you, and i wouldn't leave until i got you off my mind. then, out of nowhere, you show up at school. i noticed you, that first day. i noticed violet," and as he says her name he boops her nose. over her giggles, he continues.

"i saw her walking in and thought, man, that kid sure looks like me," san smiles sadly, and you squeeze his hand. "so as soon as school ended, i was over here, pacing and wondering again how i could reach out. then i caught you parking in the wrong spot-"

"i didn't know where else to go!" you defend yourself, and san chuckles.

"you not knowing where to go worked in my favor, because it was like someone shouting in my face, hey! here she is! don't lose this chance! so i knew i had to wiggle my way back into your life somehow. it wasn't until you mentioned violet, her name, that i felt something inside me. again, i came back here, to this spot, and thought about what to do. as i sat here, i noticed all the violets around me, and i knew. i've always thought we were meant to be together, but that day i knew for sure. i wanted to be in your life. in violet's life. forever."

"and ever," violet whispers, making you and san both laugh. as you quiet down, you stare at san, and that warm feeling you get in his presence rushes over you. finally, you think. finally finally finally.

it's like san can read your mind, because he nods before tugging you back up to your feet. violet holds onto your hand as you both watch san reach into his pocket, and even though you knew it was coming, it still takes your breath away. san kneels, holding out a velvet box. he takes a deep breath and says, "y/n. my love. my best friend. you're the love of my life, and i can't imagine our story ending any other way. will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? will you marry me, finally?" he opens the box to reveal the perfect ring, and you're nodding before you can even speak.

you look at san's glistening eyes, his happy smile, and you cry out, "yes, san, oh my god, yes, i'll marry you." san pulls you down to smash his lips into yours, but you can barely keep the smile off your face long enough to actually feel his lips against yours. you end up kneeling in front of san, wrapping him in the tightest hug as you start to cry. you feel violet's tiny arms working their way around you both, so you separate and cover her in kisses to her delighted giggles. you hug them both, holding onto your family so tight it almost hurts.

"wait, wait!" san cries out. "the ring! gimme your hand!"

you present your left hand to him as he takes the ring out, and you love the way it glitters in the setting sunlight. he slides it onto your ring finger, interlocking his hand with yours. as you admire your hand in his, you hear cheers off in the distance.

you look around to find jen and wooyoung just outside the clearing. wooyoung is holding a camera, and jen is smiling like she just pulled off the heist of the century. as they get closer, violet runs over to jen and they jump and squeal, something about secrets and another bribe you'll have to learn about later.

"so everyone knew about this but me?" you ask san, and he brushes hair behind your ear as jen and wooyoung join you.

"sorry, but that's the way it had to be," san shrugs.

"you were so surprised," wooyoung says, "i can't wait to edit these pictures, i think i got a really funny one of you when he pulled the ring out."

"i'll make sure he only keeps the good ones," jen cuts in, but you shake your head.

"you send me every single picture you took," you say sternly, and wooyoung salutes you as he says, "aye aye mrs. choi!"

"oh my god," you turn to san then. "i'm gonna be your wife."

"yeah you are," he smiles proudly. "'bout time."

"oh, what time is it?" you ask. "don't we need to go to the dance?"

"baby, there is no dance," san admits. "i made that up so you wouldn't be suspicious of all the calls and errands without you."

"you sneak," you slap his arm. "and involving our daughter!"

"we got you," violet giggles, looking up at you as she wraps her hands around your legs. you pinch her nose and she squeals.

"well, what do we do now?" you ask. "i don't know what engaged people do."

"i've got an idea," wooyoung says suggestively, and jen groans.

"actually, i was going to take us to dinner," san says, reaching for you and violet. "we need to celebrate!"

"that's our cue to leave," jen says to wooyoung, but san stops them.

"nope," he shakes his head. "you helped. i owe you dinner."

"well if you insist," wooyoung smiles, wrapping his arm around jen. you all start walking back to your cars, jen and wooyoung ahead of your family. you and san are walking with violet between you, hands swinging happily.

"hey," san whispers, and you find his handsome face smiling at you. "are you happy?"

"happier than i've ever been, san."

"good," he nods. "sorry for all the secrets, though."

"whatever," you brush it off. "but, uh, i guess i have a secret of my own to share?"

san stops in his tracks, worry in his eyes. jen and wooyoung stop too, hearing the lack of footsteps behind them. everyone is watching you, and you look at each of them with a growing smile on your face. you end with san, and you blush as you say, "my love, my husband to be, i'm pregnant."

672 notes · View notes

stormhearty · 11 months ago

Text

Pairings: Rhysand x Reader, Feysand

Word Count: 5.5k+

Triggers: mentions of torture, blood, rape (all nothing explicit), insecurities, depression, PTSD

Summary: When Rhysand had gone Under the Mountain, you, his wife, followed him. However, neither of you knew it had been a trap set by Amarantha. And so, for forty-nine, while being trapped Under the Mountain, you had been his support, his pillar, his reason for living while he had been tortured and used by Amarantha. You had suffered along with him, helplessly watching from the sidelines as Rhysand had to whore his way in protecting his city, his family… and you. But little did you know that things would change when Feyre came to save the High Lord of Spring. Little did you know, that yours and Rhysand’s life would change forever. And how your husband’s bond with you would slowly unravel and wrap around the newly Made High Fae.

Note: I was sobbing while writing this. I have no idea where this came from, but I love it. I originally was thinking of basing this off a song from Phantom of the Opera, but it gotten so astray that it became this mess of emotions. This will also be some mini spoilers from ACOTAR through ACOMAF, so just an FYI. I legit thought of this while I was driving home from my 12-hour night shift nursing job. And I wrote this in a couple of hours because of how much inspiration I had! LMAO. I love Rhysand and I love Feysand so much, but I wanted to see write a story that told was so heart wrenching that it ended up being this. I have read a few fics here on Tumblr about Rhysand having a lover before Feyre ever existed. I loved reading and I wanted to have my own little spin to it. I hope you guys enjoy it!

It had been nothing but a trap.

You and Rhysand had gone to the masquerade party Under the Mountain blindly.

The echoes of Mor and Cassian’s begging for either of you to go to the party still ring in your head. The smile that you had given your family and your last words, We’ll be home before you know it, made regret ache in your chest.

It had been a long forty-nine years and the worst forty-nine years of your immortal life.

The first time that Rhysand had decided to become Amarantha’s lover, you all but begged. Begged the High Queen to spare your husband. To have him do anything besides share her bed, you had begged to have yourself tortured by the Attor — anything to save your husband from such a life.

However, Amarantha was ruthless. She wanted to have the High Lord of Night share her bed, a way to torture not only him but you as well.

Throughout the nights, for forty-nine years, you watched and waited every night, for your husband to return to your bed and cry himself to sleep. To have shivers and sobs echo through your dark bedroom. To watch him sit in the tub, trying to scrub away the indecent touches and kisses of the High Queen. You had held him, comforted him. Prayed to the Mother that both of you would be able to return home to your family with an ounce of your sanity left.

And for you, you had to stay strong, for Rhysand — for your home, for your family that was waiting for you beyond the walls of the mountain.

You held back all the tears, the heartache, the pain that racked your body every single night — so you could pick up the pieces of Rhysand that Amarantha would place in your awaiting arms every single night.

Every night you slowly placed Rhysand together, putting him back as whole as possible with all the love you can muster. Focusing on caring for him, focusing on his pain rather than your own. He was so traumatized, hating every inch of himself because of what he did when he was with Amaramtha. You watched as he was slowly breaking and you couldn’t let that happen.

You couldn’t tell him the amount of pain you were having, not when he had done everything he could to protect Velaris and you along with it.

Because while he was being used by Amarantha, you were tortured by the Attor.

That horrid creature that served the High Queen all but relished in torturing your body, mind, and soul. You had bled, unbled, and been tortured all over again — the Attor putting you back together like a child’s block and dumped back into Rhysand’s arms. And every single time, there was no evidence of your pain — no scarred skin, no broken bones. Nothing to show your suffering and anguish — nothing to show you were broken and touched by darkness.

And only you knew that your mind and soul were slowly being ripped apart.

For forty-nine years that was your fate.

For forty-nine years you were Rhysand’s pillar, his support — the one to pick up the pieces to put him together.

But for forty-nine years you were breaking, slowly but surely. And no one was there to put you back together.

And so, when that time limit was slowly ticking away, little did you know your fate was about to change — for the worse.

You watched on the sidelines, with Rhysand by your side, as Feyre Archeron, the fae-hating human, declared her love for the High Lord of Spring, realizing it was too late to save him.

You watched from the sidelines as Rhysand — being the savior that he was — secretly helped the human through her trials and tribulations against Amarantha. You watched as the bargain to keep her alive was made — watched Rhysand’s determination for the human. You couldn’t say anything, didn’t want to say anything… for you knew it would get you and your husband back home and end this long nightmare.

When Amarantha had speculations on Feyre’s winnings against her tests, she decided to use the Attor to torture you for information. In the dead of the night when everyone was high on fae wine, Amarantha had dragged you down and allowed the Attor to break you, and torture you for the information she wanted.

But you never gave up, you never let the truth slip from your lips. Even when your bones were breaking, the nails of the Attor breaking through skin to make you bleed, or when it tried to break through your mental shields to hunt for information — you held on. Fighting tooth and nail against the pain and agony — to protect your husband and the fate of Prythian. You bit down every strain, every struggle, every yell that scratched your throat — worried that anything that may come out of you would reveal the coup that was brewing under Amarantha’s very nose.

And every time Amarantha was done with your torture, the Attor would put you back together — only your mind shattered to pieces. And every night you would crawl back into bed, biting back tears and screams, as you allowed your husband to hold you throughout the night — unknowing of what had happened to you hours before.

You would feel him slip away at night at times, and you’d follow through caverns of rock only illuminated by fae light to the dungeons below, to the prison that held the human — watched as he slipped through the metal gates, all to heal Feyre from the inflicted wounds from her battles against Amarantha. You would watch as she would fight against him, spit at him, as he did everything to ensure her safety and healing. All you wanted to do was scream, but you didn’t… you couldn’t. You would slip away, returning to your bed, pretending you were asleep as Rhysand would return into your awaiting bed. And every single time, you bit your lower lip, to prevent the aching sobs that wracked your entire body.

When the final trial had come, and Feyre had completed the third trial and therefore tortured and killed by Amarantha, you watched as both Rhysand and Tamlin rushed to her aid, eventually ending the High Queen’s life and reign. You watched as all of the High Lords of Prythian stepped forward and gave that kernel of life — a bit of their lifeforce to the human and watched her transform into one of you, a Made-High Fae.

You were happy that Feyre was brought back — the Savior of Prythian, the Defeater of Amarantha’s Reign — she deserves the happy ending, after everything she had gone through.

And you had hoped that would be the same for you and Rhysand once you returned to Valeris. You stood by his side when he had greeted Feyre, and watched when Rhysand had stiffened at the sight of her. Feeling his arm wrap around your waist in a tight grip before winnowing away, watching her face shift into confusion.

Both of you landed in the Townhouse, Mor giving a screech of surprise, wide eyes as she took in the both of you.

“…Rhys… (Y/N)…” she breathed out in shock before wrapping the two of you in a death hug.

The familiar warmth of Mor had you breaking down, your own hands grasping onto her shoulders as forty-nine years of tears racked through you. The three of you fall into the wooden floors in a heap.

But the thing that ripped your soul the most — to the point that it was unrepairable— was the heartbreaking whisper from your husband.

“She’s my mate…”

It was as if your world tilted on its axis and you didn't know what was up or down, right or wrong. Your body froze, and slowly pulled away from Mor’s embrace and looked at your husband with wide eyes.

“What…?”

Rhysand looked at you, violet hues brimming with tears, agony shown through the usual twinkling stars, “Feyre’s my mate…” was all he can muster out.

Your head pounded, your blood ran cold, and all you could feel was your body scrambling away from the embrace, hands and feet clawing at the wooden floors.

Your chest heaved, as you stared at Rhysand.

How fate was so cruel to you.

You need to support him, you are his pillar, you reminded yourself as a strained smile tugged at your lips.

“That's great, my love…” you whispered, voice shaking as you tried to find the words of happiness. But it was so difficult to find — for you knew that his new-found mate, was in love with someone else; was in a whole different Court. And that echo of half of a mating bond would slowly break your husband.

You maintained your composure, scrambling over to gently wrap your arms around Rhysand, running your fingers through darkened hair, “You will be fine…” you whispered as you felt him quiver in your arms, wetness soaking your shoulder, “You will get through this…”

Both of us will get through this… was all you could wish the Mother for.

The first three months after the events of Under the Mountain were the hardest. Every night Rhysand would still wake up in the middle of the night in cold sweat, screaming. Every night you'd wake up right beside him as he vomited his guts out thinking he was still Under the Mountain, still under the hands of Amarantha. Every night you would hold him in your arms whispering how much you love him and that he was safe with you, that he was back with you in the City of Starlight — back with his family.

You would hold him until he was back asleep, the nightmares kept at bay with you at his side.

But little did he know you were also fighting your own nightmares.

You'd wake up, a hand over your mouth as you held back screams, your nails digging into your skin to stop from waking your sleeping husband with the fear that crippled your body. You would slip from your large bed, down the stairs to the cool breeze of Valeris, kneeling on the ground as you held back every vomit, every groan, every nightmare that shook your body.

You couldn't be weak, not when your family had relied so much on you to keep them together. You were the glue that kept them sane, that kept them from shattering.

But who was going to pick up your pieces when you finally break? You didn't know, and you didn't have the luxury to ask.

The first time Rhysand had winnowed to retrieve Feyre for their “bargain”, all you could do was smile. Gently handling Feyre like a newborn lamb. You cared for her, as she tried to figure out her way through her new body. You watched from the sidelines as Rhysand interacted with the new High Fae, seeing a new light in him that was sparking — one that wasn't there when he was with you.

The second time Feyre was brought to Valeris, you watched as Rhysand pushed her to try to get better, pushed her to feel something rather than the emptiness she was radiating.

“She’s killing herself, (Y/N)…” he had told you one day as the two of you walked through the streets of Valeris, “I need to help her through this…”

Your chest ached with an unpleasant feeling, your whole body screaming that it should have been you that he was saving. But you shook that unpleasant feeling and gave him a small smile, “… You're right…”

Breaking… Your husband was breaking you… bit by bit.

When you had heard the echoes of Tamlin locking Feyre in Spring Court, the anger that Rhysand seeped was enormous. He had ordered Mor to save the poor girl from Tamlin’s clutches and whisked her away back to Night Court.

The look that Rhysand had given you when Feyre all but locked herself away, withering away in that room made you break even more.

You took it upon yourself to slowly help the female, caring for her — and building her confidence and health.

You were the pillar of this family, you had reminded yourself over and over again, all the while being chipped away slowly, No one gets left behind.

You watched as Feyre gained her health, became that girl that you saw Under the Mountain — regained that spark that was put out by Tamlin for all those months. You helped Feyre find herself in this new world, but little did you know you were slowly losing yourself too.

You had given up so much of yourself for your family, for your Court, for your husband that you didn’t know yourself anymore. You questioned your self-worth — wondering if what you have done for the past few centuries was all worth it.

What had you contributed to the Night Court for all these centuries? What had you done to earn your spot next to Rhysand? You were nothing special, the dark thoughts whispered into your ears — insecurities rising from the depths of the shadows. You weren't gifted the powers of the seven High Lords like Feyre, you weren't beautiful or frightening like Mor or Armen, and you didn’t know how to fight like Azriel or Cassian — weren’t trained on the ways of Illyrian fighting. You had nothing to contribute. You had no idea why Rhysand had kept you beside him all these years.

But you continued to give and give for the people you loved. You continued to give little of yourself each time someone from your family broke down — still healing from the effects of Amarantha’s rein. You gave a bit of yourself up to Feyre, your husband’s mate, so she can heal herself from the traumatic experience of her first love. You gave a bit of yourself up for Rhysand, as he slowly healed from his trauma from Under the Mountain.

You became the crumbling pillar in their lives.

Crack, crack …you were like glass, being slowly chipped away by the people you love. Those who you had tried to protect Under the Mountain. The very people that had taken advantage of your love and care without them even knowing.

“She’s in the cabin in the mountains… The Suriel told her that she and Rhysand were mates and that the bond finally snapped in her. And Rhys’ up there too… with her.” Mor had told you over a glass of wine.

Your body froze, which seems to be a common occurrence these days, as the glass of wine slipped from your fingers, shattering on the wooden floors. Your chest burned as you stared down at the shards of glass that covered the floor, your eyes dimming as Mor’s words echoed in your head.

The bond finally snapped in her… And Rhys’ up there too… with her.

Panic filled your senses as you stood up from your chair, shards of glass digging into the bottom of your feet as you fled the room, not sure where your bleeding feet were taking you.

“Shit, (Y/N)! What’s wrong? What happened?” Mor panicked, running after you, a hand reached out to gently grab your shoulder and stop you in your tracks.

It took a moment for you to react, dull eyes blinking, as you pulled your mind from such a muddled state. You turned to look at the blonde, who stared at you with a worried gaze, eyes glancing from your face to your feet, “…I… I don’t know. I’m sorry…” you whispered, not sure why you were apologizing in the first place.

You had looked down, your naked feet oozing out bright red blood, and dulling eyes tracked your footsteps behind you. You couldn’t feel it… the pain. There was nothing… no dull or stabbing pain. You had just felt the cool red liquid on your skin beneath your feet.

“… (Y/N)… (Y/N)!!!”

Head snapped up to look at Mor who shook your form gently, “Hey… What’s going on? Why aren’t you crying, screaming in pain? You stepped on so much glass… Let’s get you to Madja, okay?”

Brows furrowed and you tilted your head at the blonde, “…But it doesn’t hurt…” you all but whispered to her, “… I… I can’t feel the pain…”

Mor blinked in disbelief before shaking her head, “…I’m taking you to Madja… We need to get you seen and healed up…”

Mor gently held both of your hands, giving you a tiny smile before she had winnowed you away to the healer.

“… We’re losing her… mind, body and soul, Rhysand…”

You don’t even remember falling asleep.

“She hasn’t slept, nor ate… She has gotten so thin and so weak over the last couple of months… Has no one in the House noticed?”

You hear filters of conversations as you weave in and out of consciousness.

“Have you been really that busy to not pay attention to your wife, High Lord?”

You recognized voices but were unsure what they were talking about. Was it about you? What was going on?

“I don’t know Madja… She always looked okay. (Y/N) was just busy with her duties… ”

That was Rhysand. Had he really not been paying attention to you lately?

“It doesn’t seem like she’s okay, boy…Why is she like this? Like an empty shell that barely is walking this Earth?”

That was Armen’s voice. She sounded angry.

“… I — I… don’t know.”

“She stepped on glass and didn’t even flinch, Rhys. What’s going on?”

That was Azriel, the steel in his voice was unmistakable.

“We won’t get answers unless we look into her mind, she should be unconscious enough that you could break through her walls.”

You could feel the hesitance in the room before you felt warm hands run through your hair.

“I’m sorry (Y/N)…”

Claws of darkness tore through your mental walls and everything sprung out.

Your memories of the Attor and Amarantha torturing you when you were Under the Mountain. The feeling of your bones breaking, skin bleeding, tears, and screams ripping through your very body every night you were tortured. The feeling of emptiness every time they had put you back together to do it again and again. The emotions of anguish and fear crippled your very soul every time Rhysand was taken away from you each night. The constant worry about your family, fear that if Amarantha found them everything would be all for naught. You had to put on a brave face for not only yourself but for Rhysand to get through this ordeal — to help him heal and push on. Because if you didn’t, you would have failed to keep your family safe.

Everything was revealed, on how broken your soul had become while Under the Mountain. And how broken you were when you realized that your husband was mated to someone else. On how little of you was left when you heard that your husband had completed the mating bond.

On how little of you was left as you gave yourself for your family.

Get out of my head…!!! you pushed Rhysand out of your mind, blockading your memories and pain with metal walls and darkness — impenetrable to the Daemati abilities of your husband.

A gasp escaped your body, back arching as eyes opened wide. Your body sitting up as you pushed hands away, scrambling away as you pressed your back against the headboard, panting as you clutched the fabric of your nightgown against your chest, eyes wide as you stared at your family.

“How dare you rip my mental shields, Rhysand??” you whispered in disbelief, your voice shaking with every word, eyes blurring with tears that threatened your vision.

Chip, chip… crack. The glass has finally broken.

“How could you do that? You had promised all those centuries ago, that you would never do that… And yet here you are… breaking that very promise!!”

You watched as the High Lord flinched, violet eyes diverting away.

Bloodshot eyes stared at the people in the room — your family surrounding the large bed that you had laid on.

“… Are you all just noticing my pain now? Was this the only way you would have ever realized the pain I had to endure for you? On the nightmares that have plagued my dreams for years on end? Have I hidden my pain so well that none of you would have seen it? Without ripping my sanity apart?!

“I’ve given so much of myself for all of you. I have fought tooth and nail to ensure that this family would continue to prosper after Amarantha’s rein… Became that pillar all of you had so wrongfully placed on me… That expectation… was a burden. I realized I couldn’t show any weakness, that I couldn’t break down and show my own nightmares because all of you were still trying to heal.”

“We never expected you to do any of that…” Rhysand started.

“Yes, you have! Who would keep this Court afloat when you were still healing? Every damn night you woke up feeling disgusted under your own skin due to everything that woman had done to you. How could I have asked you to move on and rule over your Court? I couldn’t. I needed you to heal for your own health, for your own sanity. For your family’s sanity and well-being. How could I ask any of you to move on after not having your brother for the past forty-nine years while he was being raped Under the Mountain by that woman? I couldn’t! Everyone was healing! But all of you saw how strong I still was and presumed I was alright… that it hadn’t affected me. That these past forty-nine years didn’t cause me to break… But guess what, it has! More than you have ever believed.”

You took a deep breath, tears spilling over as you fought the panic that threatened to take over your whole body.

“I was tortured, every night for the past forty-nine years by the Attor. To be ripped apart, mentally and physically… every damn night and then put back together as if nothing happened. And I would go back into the dark room with you, Rhys… to watch you break apart after what Amarantha had put you through. I watched you claw your skin at the very thought of her touching you… That her very scent seeped so deep into your skin that you wanted nothing but to claw your very soul out…”

Rhys’ gaze snapped back to yours, agony in its very depths.

A broken laugh escaped you, “How could I have told you what had happened to me when you were so broken… You cried, every night, wondering if you were still yourself… Wondering if you were enough still. How could I tell you of my pain, when you were wallowing in so much of it?

“I had to be strong… for the both of us. So that both of us could return home to our family and heal together. I became strong so that you can heal… and get us out from Under the Mountain… Together. But… I realized… after all these months… You were the only one that was able to make it out… You and Feyre…”

Your gaze drifted to the Made-Fae behind Rhysand.

“While I am stuck… Under the Mountain, with the claws of the Attor and that woman still rooted in my nightmares. And when we got out, back home… I thought that was when I could tell you of my pains, my nightmares… but, I still couldn’t. Not only did that woman still plague your dreams, but your connection to your mate haunted you as well. You felt everything that Feyre felt while she was in the horrors in Spring Court.”

A shiver broke through your fragile body, you felt as if your whole body could just shatter into millions of pieces at that point. And at that point, you wish it did. You wish you didn’t have to expose your soul to the people who broke you apart.

“You prioritized the safety of your mate, one who didn’t know of the bond, who hated your entire being… over the person who had gone through the torture and pain with you Under the Mountain. You chose your mate…”

A smile tugged at the edge of your lips, one that did not reach your eyes, one that did not twinkle as it usually did.

“And I can’t fault you for that… I want to… with every being in my body… every cell of my immortal life. But I can’t..” you whispered, your head shaking in disbelief, “I want to fault you for not choosing me. But I just can’t…Your other half, the part of your soul with breaking, dying… And I couldn’t hate you for it. I stayed strong… so that she could heal… so that both of you could heal so you can make it out of that darkness…”

And yet I brought both of you together… by healing the both of you and breaking me at the same time… You thought to yourself, your brows furrowed with pain.

A shaky sigh escaped you as you opened your eyes, and found yourself staring into violet hues. Rhysand kneeling in front of you on that bed. Shaky hands coming up to cup your face, only to have you turn away, averting his touch.

“…Please don’t touch me, Rhysand…”

You watched from the corner of your eye how the High Lord’s body stiffened at the sound of his name escaping your lips like that. You never had called him his full name, not in the centuries you have been together. It had always been Rhys… with the laugh that would accompany it, the smile that would tug at the edge of your lips when you called out to him.

Not anymore. That person had died Under the Mountain — forty-nine years ago.

“…Please don’t touch me when you have held your mate…” you pleaded, wrapping your arms around yourself — wanting to crawl into yourself and disappear, rather than have Rhys touch you, and comfort you.

“—- I…”

“—-Don’t say you’re sorry…. Just don’t. If you were truly sorry, this wouldn’t have happened…” you looked and turned to the healer, “Madja, please escort them out… I don’t want to see them right now…”

The pleas from your family went deaf to your ears, you closed your eyes hearing the yells and cries as Madja removed them from the room, the doors finally shutting, leaving you in silence.

And when you were finally alone, you finally broke, a scream so excruciating that it echoed throughout all of Prythian.

“You’re going to become a statue at this point, (Y/N)…” murmured the Captain as he placed a light shawl over your shoulders.

It had been almost a decade since Madja had gently handed you over to the High Lord of Dawn Court.

The Night Court healer realized that you had been too broken — too fragile to be glued together by her ancient, old healer hands. Madja knew you’d continue to suffer underneath the skies of Valeris, to be so close to those who had ripped small pieces of you away, leaving nothing but the raw edges.

You needed somewhere to heal, and Thesan had willingly opened his doors up for you after hearing what had happened. The High Lord remembered you from Under the Mountain, a figure that had always stood by Rhysand's side — a figure of support for the High Lord of Night Court.

And yet when things fell apart, they had left you… pieces on the ground — shattered. He couldn't leave you that way, not after everything that you went through.

So he took you in, healing your mind, soul, and heart.

It had been a tough few years. You were an empty shell of your former self. You never ate, never slept, didn’t even say a word to anyone — just stared into the golden light of Dawn Court skies. It took a lot of coaxing from both Thesan and his lover to get you to start healing.

It was slow, excruciatingly slow. But Thesan knew that it would take years, centuries even for the amount of pain and trauma to minimize.

When you felt the light shawl drape over your shoulders, you looked up at the Captain and gave him a small smile, nodding your head to thank him.

The Captain of the Peregryn hummed out a stood next to you while you sat in your chair, awaiting his lover to join the two of you. You knew that the High Lord had a meeting with one of the Seasonal Courts that day and it would have been a long meeting and Thesan didn’t want to leave you alone too much due to your delicate condition; and thus having his lover stay by your side.

You heard the door open, but it sounded distant as you just stared absentmindedly outside, allowing the cool breeze of Dawn Court to wrack a shiver through your body.

“I told you to watch over her, my love…” Thesan’s voice echoed through your room.

What you didn’t expect was another pair of footsteps to follow Thesan’s. Your body stiffened, an unknown person entering the sanctuary of your bedroom. Feeling a familiar weight on your shoulder, you looked up to gaze up at the High Lord of Dawn who gave you a gentle smile, “You will get a cold, my child…” he murmured.

“That’s why I gave her a shawl…” you heard the Captain murmured. And the light battering between lovers caused you to tug a tiny smile on your features.

Your eyes moved from the couple to the person that had occupied Thesan’s side. You recognized him — the High Lord of Summer, Tarquin. You met him briefly Under the Mountain, but never spoke to him. Turquoise eyes met yours and he bowed his head, and you just tilted yours in question.

Thesan watched your movement and glanced at the Summer High Lord.

“My child… I think it’s time that you make new friends…”

Tarquin stepped towards you and set out his hand. You stared at it for a few moments before you raised your own to place on top of his palm, “It’s an honor to meet you, (Y/N)…” he hummed out, pressing a kiss on top of your hand, “My name is Tarquin — -”

“… I know who you are High Lord of Summer…” your voice weak, a whisp of sound in the Dawn wind, “Why are you here? Why are you willing to see me?”

Tarquin’s brows scrunched together before he relaxed his features, “… I want to help you heal… A decade in Dawn Court sounds boring…”

Thesan’s quip on the side caused a quirk in your lip as you focused on Tarquin.

“Come with me to the Summer Court, hopefully the warmth there will heal you a bit more…”

You stared at Tarquin, hesitance in your every feature, a hesitant nod causing Tarquin to smile before winnowing you away, landing in Summer soil, greeted by the warm sun.

#acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fic #acotar angst #rhysand x reader #rhysand #rhys acotar #( .one shot : breaking like glass )

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monzabee · 2 years ago

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hot girls support 44 – lh44

masterlist

Summary: The one where your husband realises that you are, indeed, his number one fan.

Pairing: lewis hamiton x wife!reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: cursing? (i’m not even sure), and a whole lot of fluff

Request: “Hi can you do we’re Lewis Hamilton wife is with him to see one of his races but she leaves the garage for some reason and over hears someone talking bad about her husband and she snaps and tells them straight and Lewis is watching her from a distance like damn that’s my wife”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i don’t know if this classifies as a drabble but let’s just pretend it does because i realised that i can’t write anything under 1k? this was a very fun request to work on, so thank you to anon, and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

Both you and Lewis are private people when it came to your relationship. It has always been that way, with him leading a lifestyle in front of the cameras, and you preferring to stay away from those said cameras as much as you can. Over time, you both developed a rhythm, a delicate balance between Lewis's public persona and your desire for privacy. It was an unspoken agreement, an understanding that you valued above all else.. You knew how much Lewis's racing career meant to him, and you admired his ability to excel under the constant scrutiny. And in return, Lewis respected your wish for a quieter, more intimate life together. It was this mutual respect that solidified the foundation of your relationship, allowing it to thrive despite the challenges that fame and attention often brought.

That is not to say that you guys were completely private, of course. You’ve had your fair share of events the two of you attended as a couple, as well as races, but Lewis is always mindful of the fact that you don’t want cameras in your faces. In the early days of your relationship, the media had tried to capture glimpses of your relationship, eager to uncover every detail and learn more about the woman who finally made him give up his bachelor status. However, Lewis, being the fiercely protective partner that he was, had firmly set boundaries to shield your personal life from the prying eyes of the world. He cherished the sanctity of your bond and understood the importance of keeping certain moments sacred and away from the public eye.

The two of you have a special routine for the race days where you decide to join him on the track – you mainly spend your time inside the Mercedes garage, instead of lingering around where the cameras are most likely to be. However, you make sure to leave the garage for celebrations for those races where Lewis is up on the podium, celebrating him with the people who support him every step along the way whom he appreciates immensely; while the podium celebrations were reserved for the public eye, the garage held its own intimate victories. It was here that you celebrated the milestones and shared the unspoken triumphs, basking in the knowledge that your presence was an unwavering pillar of support for Lewis. But for the most part, you’re happy with your routine – it’s safe, familiar and it has worked for a very long time. So you don’t really know why you decided to take Roscoe on an impromptu tour of the paddock, especially when he gives you that look which clearly says that he would rather be taking his afternoon nap.

It's a good day despite the chaos everyone on the paddock seems to be in, but then again, there’s only a few hours until the qualifying session. So, in hopes of avoiding the human traffic, you decide to take Roscoe to a more secluded area in the back. As you walk, Roscoe happily wagging his tail by your side, you take in the sights and sounds of the paddock. The familiar smell of rubber and gasoline fills the air, mingling with the excited murmurs of fans and the distant roar of engines. It's a world you've come to know and appreciate, even if from a slightly different perspective. Lost in your thoughts, you suddenly hear voices growing louder as you approach a group of people gathered in conversation. Curiosity gets the better of you, and you slow your pace, intending to discreetly eavesdrop before continuing on your way. But as you get closer, you realize the topic of their conversation hits closer to home than you expected.

In hindsight, you know better to get involved in situations which might cause you to bother yourself with rude, petty people, but when it concerns your husband and everything that he has worked hard his entire life for, you don’t even hesitate. With the fierce protectiveness you feel inside, you clear your throat to get the attention of the engineers, “Excuse me,” you say as you give them a (fake) smile, “could you repeat that again, please?”

The group falls silent, their faces registering surprise and perhaps a touch of embarrassment. They exchange glances, seemingly unsure of how to respond to your unexpected intrusion. “We just meant that–” The man is quickly silenced by one of his friends elbowing him in the side.

You ignore the silent ow that comes from the man’s mouth and give the trio a stare down. “Well, I guess everybody is entitled to their opinions.” Your sweet smile and dulcet tone is enough to think them that everything is fine, but you’re quick to continue voicing your thoughts, “But that doesn’t give you the right to undermine a man’s hard work, especially when he has broken record after record and don’t even get me started on the fact that not only he is a pioneer in this sport, he is also a role model and inspiration to many and has impact beyond the track.” You let a frustrated hum, “Also, have some respect, the guy is an eight-time world champion.”

The guy who spoke before looks confused as he attempts to point out, “He won it seven–”

“Do you want me to let Roscoe attack you?” You ask as you point to the puppy sitting next to you, who, in hearing his name, looks up at you; all panting and happily sticking his tongue out.

Little do you know, Lewis had been watching the entire scene unfold from a distance, a mix of admiration and adoration in his eyes. He waits until the engineers leave in a hurry, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed on his chest. A smile tugs at the corners of Lewis's lips as he watches you handle the situation with such grace and confidence. As you turn around, ready to head back to the safety of the Mercedes garage, your eyes meet his, and a surge of warmth fills your heart. Walking towards you, Lewis closes the distance between you, his steps purposeful and full of pride. His arms quickly find their place on your waist as he mumbles, “Damn, that’s my wife.”

You roll your eyes at his antics, your face quickly mirroring the smile he gives to you. “Didn’t you see the sign? Apparently, ‘hot girls support 44’.”

“Is that so?” He hums, letting his hands wonder towards the back pockets of your jeans as he continuously presses kisses along your jaw, “It’s definitely right.”

As Lewis's lips trail along your jawline, sending shivers down your spine, you playfully swat at his chest. "Behave, Mr. World Champion. We're in a public place," you whisper, trying to suppress the laughter bubbling up inside you.

Lewis chuckles softly, his eyes sparkling with love and mischief. "Can't help it, love. Seeing you stand up for me like that, it's a turn-on," he teases, his voice laced with admiration. "But you're right, let's save the public displays of affection for later."

With a shared understanding and a silent promise, you and Lewis turn, making your way back to the familiar comfort of the Mercedes garage. In each other's presence, you find solace and strength, ready to face whatever lies ahead. And as Roscoe happily trots beside you, you can't help but feel grateful for the extraordinary life you share with the man who has captured your heart, both on and off the track.

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton fluff

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jsprnt · 6 months ago

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Americano PT. 16 | Jude Bellingham x Reader

What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?

A/N: hello loves!! I can’t believe we’ve already come to the end of this series😭 thank you guys so so much for all the love you’ve sent my work and efforts!! Love y’all so much, enjoy reading- and stay tuned for my future fics 🤍🩷

W/C: 4.025

part fifteen

I sigh for the millionth time today, leaning back against the backrest of my chair. I rub my wrists, massaging my fingers and knuckles, groaning in relief when I hear some of them pop.

There were only a handful of matches left in the league, along with the Champions League final. The entire PR and marketing department had been working overtime for a couple days now, wanting to end the season on a high note.

I was so tired and stressed out, internally debating whether to call in sick tomorrow, but there was no way the team could finish all of this without my help.

Since my role in the department has gotten much more important this season, I needed to attend more meetings and calls with a lot of different people.

Never in my life, had I exercised my social skills this much, and it was only a matter of time before my social battery ran so low that I couldn't take interacting with people anymore, without looking like a total jerk.

Though, the generous paycheck that dropped into my back account every month, motivated me to work harder, well, sometimes..

I shift from my position, grabbing a single pen from its holder. Looking back up to my laptop to write down some refreshing and creative questions for the upcoming, very important and widely viewed interviews.

Winning both the national league and the Champions League in the exact same season would be absolutely insane to witness.

I had experienced the feeling in my first season working at the club. After almost three years of getting to know the team and the players who had come and gone, this year would feel even more special.

I had grown closer to the club, not just as an employee but as a supporter as well. I had multiple personal and dear connections with the club.

My father had just renewed his contract with the club. A topic that everyone working for respective companies joked about was the possibility of the agreement not being renewed.

After all these years, both companies had become synonymous with each other.

I had also gotten closer to my colleagues, much closer than I would've ever imagined. Starting this job as an eighteen-year-old, I was incredibly intimidated by the sheer size of the operations behind the scenes.

Of course, juggling both working here and studying for my law degree was hard at first. Work in the morning had switched to the evening when attending the matches.

Study breaks consisting of trying to figure out what interview questions were rubbish and needed to be scrapped, and packing my little suitcase for another trip, only to overpack again.

Thankfully, I had gotten all of my results back from this school year, and I was absolutely over the moon knowing I'd be going for my next year of my degree after summer break.

All my hard work had finally paid off when I saw my grades, and I had celebrated it that night- with working…

The biggest change in my life?

That was the fact that I had actually found love.

Going from hating each other to loving each other was a weird feeling. Even so, Jude and I had been together for almost six months now, and honestly speaking; I had never felt so loved by anyone in the entire world before.

We supported each other wholeheartedly, and it was definitely easier to do than other couples.

Mostly, because we worked together.

Living together for the first few weeks of our relationship, definitely sped up the process of actually getting to know each other. It bonded us faster than I would’ve ever expected.

Looking back, it's difficult to even imagine a world where Jude never moved into my place..

Jude had moved out of my house in the middle of March. He had changed houses following everything that had happened the last few months.

The new house is quite far away from the old, temporary house he lived in, that got broken into. The home was spacious and modern, just like I'd expected before visiting for the first time.

My father and his partners at his firm, had finally built up a proper case to take the intruder to court. I didn't know the specifics because, for some reason I wasn’t allowed to, by both my own father and Jude.

I already knew that the man who had caused so much chaos wasn't getting off the hook easily, and that was enough for me. Knowing any more details about the situation, would probably cause me more stress and anxiety, so I had just learnt to let it go.

I couldn't even lie, lately I had spent more time at Jude’s place than my own. There was something so comforting about it, maybe it was how inviting and cozy it felt.

His friends from England and Germany would always be over, for the simplest of reasons.

Playing games, both board and video ones, watching new movies in the unnecessary, huge cinema room. It created a very fun and friendly atmosphere and made me feel more comfortable than ever.

Jude’s parent’s presence, especially his mother’s- was very much appreciated. I loved chatting to her, from the most mundane things, to the things that I was worried about.

Just like the other women in my life, she gave me guidance and encouragement to keep on going and be even better at anything I wanted to accomplish.

Obviously, there was no way we could keep on hiding our relationship from certain teammates Jude was very close with. We'd decided to be open with them, because keeping a 'secret' from them wouldn't exactly give us peace of mind in the long run.

Scratching what I've written down so far, I drop my pen onto the desk. Glancing up at the clock to check the time, and gasping softly when I remember I have a meeting that starts in a minute.

I quickly grab the necessary paperwork, and dash out of the office. Into the meeting room, already full of my coworkers, sat waiting only for me..

"Okay, I'm really confused. Do I have something on my face? Like sauce from lunch or something?" The puzzled y/n asks, turning around in her office chair, only to glance at the busy Lina.

"Uh.." The older woman begins, looking up from her monitor and shaking her head.

"Nope, no sauce. Why?" Lina takes her hand off the computer mouse, sighing before leaning back.

"Everyone has been looking at me, like since- this morning.." y/n rolls her chair forward, holding out her foot, to stop herself from violently slamming into Lina's desk.

"You think? I thought it was because your dress looked cute.."

Lina smirks at her own words, her hand reaching over to grab her purple water bottle, swiftly taking the top off and chugging a couple gulps.

y/n scoffs, glancing down at the dress she's wearing. Yes, of course the dress is cute, that's why she wore it today. But the stares she got were definitely not in appreciation of the cream-colored dress.

"Are you serious? I don't think-"

She's cut off by a loud knock. Both women break eye contact, looking up at the glass doors where someone is standing in front of.

"Jude?" y/n perks up, standing up from her chair and making a beeline towards him. Ignoring the unnecessarily loud and teasing whistle leaving Lina's mouth.

Stepping outside, she furrows her brows, looking around for anyone who could eavesdrop on their conversation.

"Follow me.." Jude can only say, immediately starting to walk down the stairs without sparing another second.

"What are you-" She trails off, sighing in defeat, before following him down, into one of the empty meditation rooms.

She looks at Jude as he locks the door behind them, his hand immediately reaching to wrap around her waist. He pulls her closer than ever, planting a kiss on her lips.

"Something wrong?" She asks, picking up on his stressed out demeanor. Pulling back, she scans his face once again.

"I have to show you something, but don't freak out, yeah? I called your dad already, and he said he'll see what he can do.."

This only sends her into a panic, his warning going over her head as she watches him pull his phone out of his pocket. Arms flexing underneath his training jacket as he moves.

She looks at him with a confused frown on her face, her eyes almost popping out of her head when Jude shows what was so important.

Grabbing the phone out of his hand without thinking, she brings the device closer to her face. A small noise of annoyance leaving her mouth.

It's all photos of the couple, outside during various times they had been on dates for the past- six months.

"This one's from Valencia, and this one's from that night in Mallorca?!" y/n exclaims, hands shaking as she tries to scroll through the other photos. All off guard pictures of them, taken while they were out together, after matches, and even on dates in Madrid.

Noticing how distressed the photos make his girlfriend, Jude grabs his phone out of her hand. Setting it down on the table next to him, he grabs onto her shoulders, making her look up at him.

"It's okay, we prepared for this, remember? I won't let my team put out a statement, apart from legal action. Your dad's handling it with my team, okay?" He brings her frazzled form into a reassuring hug, planting kisses on her cheeks and the tip of her nose.

Of course, just like her boyfriend explains- they knew their relationship couldn't be kept secret for much longer. Jude, being the high profile football player he is, couldn't exactly keep people from prying into his private life.

She knew that the media had caught a whiff of her, even back when they despised each other. The night at Wembley Stadium months ago, had caused a little commotion back then.

The gossip pages and newspapers loved a story containing love, a successful and beloved young man, and not to forget- her having actual connections to the club in both work, and her father's partnership with the club.

To the couple, when they entered the training center or the stadium, they would work at that particular day- it was about work and work only.

When they clocked in, they prioritized working. It would've obviously been very difficult for them to keep their relationship on the low- if they glanced at each other every damn second, while in the same room.

During working hours, they'd greet each other like their other colleagues, acting like they didn't make out the night before in his room.

Unavoidably, the players who knew about them dating, would try their best to sneak little jokes and teases in. The couple would successfully brush off the comments.

Practicing all these months made the perfect facade, but sometimes the jokes were too good not to chuckle, at least very discreetly.

"Okay, I trust you.." She mutters, pressing her face into her chest, a soft hum leaving her mouth. Thoughts and worries swirling through her mind.

"Baby! I'm ready!" I shout, almost falling flat on my face while pulling on my new heels.

These red bottoms were absolute hell to wear, especially since I had just gotten them as a gift, from Jude.

It would take some time before I could break them in, but with how stunning they looked paired with this dress, it was worth the pain, at least tonight.

To celebrate winning the league, Jude and I were finally going on a date. It had been a while since we had been on a proper date night, mostly due to how busy we both have been lately.

Jude with training and I with preparing everything, from interviews to social media posts, and even some press releases that needed to be out before the Champions League final that was in a couple days.

"I'm here.." I walk out of his bedroom, chuckling at the sheer amount of my clothes stuffed in his closet.

We had been staying over at each other's place on and off, but looking at both our closets, you'd think we'd been living together again.

Considering how important the past few weeks had been, Jude had been training a lot. I was especially worried about him and his health, mainly thinking of his shoulder injury.

His doctor and the team's physiotherapist had reassured me personally, but still, I could help but wince every time he touched his shoulder and grunted. Or seeing the multiple, pain-stopping injections, he had to take to play a full ninety minutes.

"You look handsome.." I mutter when reaching the front door, pressing a kiss onto his plump lips, my hands reaching to fix the collar of his button down. My lipgloss leaving a sheen of glitter on his lips, it making me chuckle as he gave me a dumbfounded look.

We’re fairly young, and early in our relationship, we realized that fancy dates weren't really our thing. But tonight was one of the few occasions we'd go all out, and dress up very nicely.

"You look absolutely stunning, love.." He smiles, his hand circling around my waist and down my back, fingers digging into the fabric of my dress.

"Thank you, baby.." I hum, giving him a small wink. A loud chuckle leaves my lips as he attempts to wink back, though, just like every time, it looks like he's got something in his eyes, instead of being cheeky.

"What's so funny, hm?" Jude questions, hands trailing down to grip at my bum, squeezing slightly.

"Mhm, nothing.." I say, reaching up to fix his hair a little. "Should we leave? It's getting late.."

He agrees instantly, and I wrap my arm around his as we walk out of his house. The sun hadn't set yet, mostly because summer was coming soon, and I couldn't wait to enjoy the weather this year, yet again.

"Wait- I didn't grab my keys.." I gasp, eyes going wide as I watch him pull the door shut.

"Oh, you're definitely not driving missy, especially not in those heels.." Jude says, giving me a cheeky smile, and I can immediately sense that he is hiding something.

"You got your license?!" I beam, eyes glistening in happiness. Though, my excitement is cut short when he shakes his head, an embarrassed look on his face.

"No, I did not get my license.."

"Oh.." I say, the corners of my mouth twitching as I hold back a menacing laugh.

"So, you'll be my passenger prince forever?" I bring my hand up to grab onto his bicep, squeezing the muscles as my body leans against his.

"Will you ever stop saying that?" I watch his lips move, eyes glimmering when his lips pull into a slight pout.

"When you get your license, sir. I'll stop calling you my passenger prince..."

"I'm sure you would like a break from it then.." Jude says, his expression changing to a smug one within a split-second, and I follow his lead without thinking.

My uncomfortable heels click against the concrete as Jude leads me outside the gates of the house, a sleek black Rolls Royce parked right in front of the driveway.

"You got a driver for tonight?" I ask, eyes fixated on the, admittedly sexy car.

"Going all out for my lovey tonight. I've got to spoil my girl, always.."

I grin at his sweet words, warmth reaching my face, and I suddenly feel shyness creeping up on me. I shift my gaze for a second, avoiding eye contact with him and staring at the concrete.

"Aw, is my pretty girl shy now? You weren't like this a moment ago, huh?" A soft noise of protest leaves my mouth at the loving words. My breath hitching as he presses a kiss on my neck, right against my jugular.

"Come on, love. We'll be very late to our reservation if I keep you here longer.." Jude gives me a charming smile, grabbing onto my hand and pulling me towards the car, making me forget whatever my thoughts were before he'd made my heart flutter.

"I'm sweating literal buckets. I can't even breathe properly right now.." My eyes immediately shift to Luis, my right eye twitching, just like it has been on and off this entire day. The stress and anxiety of this all had been building up in us both, causing actual physical symptoms to show.

"Ask me about it, I went peeing two times already, and we're just seventy minutes into this match.." I say, wiping my sweaty hands down my black jeans. The laptop and phone on my lap shaking, as I bounce my knee up and down in anticipation.

My heart also leaped in my throat every time Jude got fouled. Checking the stats confirmed my suspicion, he currently is the most fouled player on the pitch.

I obviously knew it was a part of the game, but considering his injury- I couldn't help but be worried.

"Fuck, I swear if we score, I'm going to lose my shit." Luis says, running a hand through his curly hair, and I can almost feel the nerves radiating off of him.

Well, all 90.000 people in Wembley Stadium feel the exact same way right now. From supporters to chairmen of both respective clubs, sitting on the edge of their seats as we all watched the Champions League final between Real Madrid and Borussia Dortmund unfold, live in front of our own two eyes.

My breath hitches in my throat as we're given a corner. The grip on my phone getting tighter as Luis glances at me.

"Okay, we got this, Toni's so experienced-"

"Shut up, I'm trying to focus.." I exclaim, grabbing onto Luis' shoulder to calm him down.

"You can't exactly focus with 90,000 people screaming.." He replies, glancing at me.

I open my mouth to speak, but decide to spare my breath, and stop breathing in anticipation.

Right, at that moment, Toni kicks the ball from the corner flag, it flies upwards as we watch both our players and Dortmund players scramble in front of the goal.

Finally, Dani jumps up and GOALLLL!!

The entire Madridista side jumps up in celebration, my devices almost slipping out of my hand and onto the floor as we jump up to cheer as loud as we can.

"I'm going to kiss Dani's forehead after this!" Luis screams, making me choke on my laughter. I hurry up and return my attention back to my devices, as happy as we were, we still had our job to do and execute.

I close my eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm down, before we both go back to doing our jobs.

Our wishes and prayers for a second goal aren't that far away, time-wise. Dortmund player Maatsen tries passing the ball, due to a wrong estimation, Jude gets the ball instead, shooting to Vini.

He goes on to score the second banger of the night. The stadium erupts in both cheers of happiness and screams of protest.

It's even louder than after the first goal, and we know it's only a matter of five minutes before our boys secure the victory over this season's Champions League..

y/n fixes her shirt for the nth time, trying to fidget with something before she loses her mind. Standing in the tunnel, she glances at Luis. Both of their eyes glimmering, as they wait for the families of the players to enter the pitch to celebrate the win.

They were insanely busy with handling their work, channelling their emotions into doing their job, to make sure it's all taken care of before they were done for the night. The automated system, consisting of already edited work, would take care of the rest from now on...

"Dude, what just happened?.." Luis whispers, glancing at the equally mesmerized girl next to him.

"We won!" She squeals, letting her excitement and happiness show as she hugs Luis. "Fuck, I don't even know what I would do if we lost. I'd actually be having a breakdown right now.."

Luis hugs her back, patting her head affectionately.

"You've worked very hard, y/n. Thank you for being my best friend and best colleague.." He says, giving her a brotherly smile.

"Thank you too, older brother.." She laughs, voice slightly teasing, as she pats his shoulder.

"Oh, I think we can join the celebrations.." He says, pointing to the families they’ve gotten very close with over the years.

The familiar faces joining their loved one on the pitch to celebrate this huge milestone in their careers.

"Come on.." Luis says, dragging her along and onto the pitch.

She looks around, a permanent smile plastered on her face as she's overwhelmed by the emotions running through her body.

"Dani!" Luis shouts, and y/n watches him run up to the goal scorer, just like his promise- Luis plants a fat kiss on the athlete's head.

y/n laughs loudly at the interaction, making eye contact with Dani’s wife, and laughing even harder at her confused expression.

She shakes her head at her best friend’s antics. Realizing she's alone now, she freezes. Cameras were absolutely everywhere at the moment, and she was absolutely sure at least one was pointed towards her.

The weeks following the photos of their dates being leaked were quite turbulent, with a lot of support, but also criticism- it was very difficult to ignore the reactions.

She wasn't anywhere close to wanting to be a public figure of some sort, so the attention was putting a lot of pressure on her.

But loving a star athlete, like Jude meant having to sacrifice some part of her privacy. If it meant she could run up to him now, and kiss his face a couple of times.

Then screw privacy, she'd throw that all away to get to him right now.

Her eyes darting to the rest of the enormous pitch again, frowning when she can't find the boy she's so desperately looking for.

Finally, after squinting a whole lot, and definitely causing damage to her eye muscles, she finally makes eye contact with the equally lost looking Jude.

He's standing in between both his parents, arms around them as he looks around wearily.

Jude's eyes immediately light up in relief when he spots y/n, mumbling something to his smiley parents before he makes a run for it.

Within seconds, he's by his girlfriend's side, and she jumps up to wrap her legs around his waist in greeting. He pulls her flush against him in a tight embrace. y/n cups his jaw tenderly to place multiple kisses on his face.

"I'm so fucking proud of you, baby.." She breathes out, cut off as he presses his lips onto hers, exhilarating kiss that makes them forget other people are around, and especially the hundreds of cameras and phones filming the pitch.

He catches her lips, plump lips sucking onto her bottom lip before they're forced to pull back for air. They pant, faces warm, and cheeks hurting from how much they'd smiled within the past couple minutes.

"I'm proud of you too, baby. Come on, you're my family too. Forget about work and the cameras here for me, yeah?”

She plants her shoes back onto the grass when he lowers back on the floor. She looks down as he grabs onto her hand. Playing with her fingers as he makes eye contact with her.

Reaching up, she swipes at a piece of grass stuck on his temple, probably from being fouled earlier, she chuckles at the sight, biting her lip.

“Come on, then. Your parents are waiting..” She says, turning and dragging him along the pitch. Skipping towards his awaiting, happy parents. Who look at them with an infinite amount of joy and proudness in their eyes.

“He’s a winner! Jude’s our winner!!”

#jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham imagine #jude x reader #jude #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #bellingham x reader #bellingham #football blurb #footballer x reader #football imagines #football fanfic #football imagine #football #real madrid fc #real madrid

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shes4twnksinatrnchct · 3 months ago

Text

Straight to the Heart

Josh Kiszka x fem. reader

You and Josh were friends long before you were lovers, yet somehow can't manage to grapple yourselves into an actual relationship with one another (oneshot).

Warnings: Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, explicit language, angst, mutual unrequited love? kind of? smut (dry humping, oral {f. receiving}, unprotected sex, p. in v.)

Words: 2.7k

Please keep in mind this is a work of fiction and enjoy!

Why were you here, again?

You know it always ends this way.

A tear falls and splatters on the top of your foot, your elbows digging into your knees from where you’re sitting on the edge of the tub in the hotel bathroom while holding your head in your hands.

If the small digital clock on the nightside table is correct, it’s nearly 3:00a.m.

You should go get back into bed and continue staring at the ceiling to avoid looking at the man that’d been lying next to you in a deep sleep–to avoid the guilt that shreds at you because you know this time will be no different.

He knows it, too, deep down…he just refuses to acknowledge that feeling that settles in his gut and tells him repeatedly it’s never going to work between the two of you.

And it’s an easy fact to ignore when you’re so entrapped in one another.

All the begging, whining, moaning, cursing, praising, gasping, grasping, hounding, grinding, licking, kissing, touching, holding, pulling, scratching, biting, teasing and everything else that conspires between the two of you acts as bountiful excuses not to accept the simple fact that those primal things is all your relationship will ever be.

You’re both so drastically different that it’s difficult to bond over anything other than being completely addicted to the feel of each other—any further step you’ve tried to take toward an actual relationship had always ended in the two of you fighting each other.

He was too him—who you adored–but quickly came to the realization that he was overwhelming in a relationship. Just as he realized that you were far too you, who he thought the world of but felt smothered by outside the boundaries of friendship.

Too opposite, perhaps, but it didn’t stop you two from trying to force it to work.

It was just a constant run-around of bickering, having sex, breaking up, having sex, getting back together, having sex, and repeating the cycle.

You’re pretty sure his family and friends, and yours, are ready to strangle the both of you because how quickly things change between you so often…

Wiping your eyes, you sniffle and head back into the room.

It’s freezing cold, the air conditioner offering a peaceful rustle in the corner of the pitch-black room.

The lights of the city flicker through the window every now and then when the a/c catches the curtains every once in a while, other than those, however, the only light is that of the smoke detector.

Padding across the carpet, you step to the bed and see the silhouette of Josh still fast asleep, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

It’s been a few hours since you both got out of the shower after a drawn out reunion in the mid-priced hotel that’s across town from the much pricier inn that his bandmates are staying in.

He felt like a teenager sneaking out once everyone got back to their rooms after the show.

His security was sworn to secrecy of where he was going and who he’d be with, because he didn’t want to hear his brothers try to talk him out of it.

The moment he knocked on the room door, it swung open, and he didn’t even have time to admire your infectious smile before you were snatching him inside by his shirt, gathering his soft hair into your hands while his mouth wasted no time in seeking yours.

You should change out of his shirt, pull your clothes on and leave, but he’s right there within reach, which is something he hadn’t been in a couple months.

Though the two of you would make up for it over the phone, it never compared to hearing, seeing, feeling everything in person.

Josh feels the dip in the mattress when you get back into bed, crawling over to him.

Careful not to put your weight on him, you swing a leg over his hips, your lips press to the smooth skin of his chest, gently trailing up to his jaw while he shifts in his sleep that’s growing lighter the more you kiss along his skin.

By the time you get to his prominent cheek bone, his hands are grabbing at your thighs, pushing up to grab your waist to pull you further down onto him.

“Fuck,” You breathe out shakily as your already sensitive clit rubs along the fabric of your panties, the feel of him underneath you causing your eyes roll back as one of his hands grab at your jaw.

“Back for more already?” He whispers, the tickle of his facial hair dancing along your mouth as he speaks, his nose teasingly swiping against yours gently.

You nod pathetically, and he obliges, tracing your bottom lip with his tongue before it tangles with yours.

You’ve already battered and bruised one another, hickies decorating the two of you, bite marks imprinted in skin, not to mention the soreness between your legs that spikes with you growing all the more wet when his hands slip under his shirt you’re wearing to squeeze at your chest.

It’s discarded rather abruptly, the soft white being thrown quite aggressively before his hands are back on you, rolling your nipples, taking in the sight of you once again moving against him, your nails biting into his hands.

That wave of something strikes in you, your mouth falling open as you hump against him, no doubt ruining your panties while he grins up at you, groaning out softly from the friction against his throbbing cock as a sharp gasp leaves you at the sight of him being so amused watching you.

“Make as big of a mess as you can, pretty girl, I wanna clean up every last drop.” He assures you, guiding your hips.

“You do?” You ask weakly, needing to hear him divulge how badly he wants to taste you.

“I always do, don’t I?”

You nod, falling forward to brace your palms on his chest, squeezing your eyes closed as you grow closer and closer to your finish.

He feels the sticky wetness of you through your panties, the thin sheet and his underwear, his mouth watering with anticipation as he shifts his hips up to meet yours.

“You’re so wet, aren’t you?” He asks, a frantic nod from you being his response.

Your mouth falls into an “O”, brows sharply furrowing as you look down at him and pick up your pace.

“Josh.” You whine, doing the best that you can, your eyes going blurry as you pant, sweat cloaking your chest as your clothed pussy works desperately against him.

And then it rapidly happens, your orgasm swallows you whole when you see stars, your walls throbbing and clenching at nothing as your release spills out of you and he gets his wish.

He chuckles at you, a breathy, “Fuck, y/n,” leaving him while he pushes you off of him.

You’re limp, your eyes shut and your mind unable to think while he grabs your ankles and drags you to the edge of the bed.

Josh stares down at you, running a hand down his face at you disheveled and sweaty, hair tangled, lips swollen.

He splays you out, palming at himself through his underwear at the sight of your soaked pussy soaked, already able to feel your tight cunt around him. He can’t wait to get you split open on him, writhing and crying, begging for him to fuck into your harder just for you to try to crawl away say it’s too much, it feels too good, only to end up a fucked-out mess, scrambling to open your legs wider to take him deeper and plead for him to cum in you.

You’re predictable in that aspect, but every time it feels like it’s the first time you two have done any of it.

Just as exhilarating.

Your back arches and your hands tangle in the sheets when he reaches out to run his palm along your pussy.

The sound itself is vulgar, a soft, “Oh,” leaving you as his fingertips tease at your clit.

“You want my mouth here, don’t you?” He asks smugly, picking up his pace as your hips start rolling with his movements.

“I want your mouth everywhere,” You confess, more than content to have him anywhere you can get him.

“Good answer.” He leans down, kissing your lips while one finger slips into you.

Your teeth bite into his lip as he digs into the spongey, soft flesh of your back wall.

Josh pulls from your mouth and adds a second finger, his forehead resting against yours while he watches your face shift.

“Whose is this?” He questions you, knowing very well the answer.

Even when you’ve had non-exclusive suitors, and potential partners through the years, they all are thrown out the moment he gets ahold of you.

“It’s all—ah! It’s yours,” You promise, gasping, the wet sound of him finger-fucking into you echoing in the room.

“You’re so fucking tight, y/n, you know that?” He asks, next, your pussy clinging to his digits as if trying to milk them for what they’re worth.

All you can do is nod, his movements growing more demanding, repeatedly digging into your g-spot, giving you no other option but to cum again.

“Oh, where are my manners?” He suddenly pipes, pulling his fingers from you, causing you to nearly cry, tears in your eyes as the orgasm you were approaching is torn away from your grasp.

“Josh!” You complain, looking up at him when he stands back up.

“Do you want me to eat it or not?” He slyly inquires, smirking down at you.

You can’t argue, adamantly agreeing with a loss of your breath, pushing up on your hands when he sinks to his knees.

Your head falls back when he kisses along the inside of your thighs, your chest heaving as he looks up at you and finally licks at your swollen.

He groans when you tug at his hair, sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth before shaking his head, your back having to collapse into the mattress because your shaky arm lets you down as a high-pitched, “Ah!” Crawls from the back of your throat and you try to close your legs.

His hands dig into your skin when he forces your thighs apart, and drinks up.

Rolling his tongue has you struggling to breathe, but then his fingers push back into you.

“Josh!” You don’t even try to muffle it, probably giving your neighbors a wake-up call as you moan it out brazenly. “Please, please don’t stop, Josh, please, it’s so good, you eat it so fucking good.”

You can’t help but grind into his face the best you can, feeling like you’re hostage to his touch that’s unrelenting as he mercilessly digs into that spot again, lapping at your clit simultaneously.

You’re done for, he can tell in the way you stop speaking and just cry out, your legs shaking.

He keeps his word, licking up every drop of your slick, pressing sweet kisses to your pussy in between strokes of his tongue, examining his work once he’s finished, wishing he could acceptably take a picture of you like this.

Now you really are out of it, your core aching from the ghost of his fingers, your body twitching from the aftermath of pleasure while he’s stripping from his underwear, stroking at his cock that feels as though it holds his heart beat with the relentless pulse of his desired release.

The thick tip of it runs along your folds before he eases it to your entrance.

“So pretty,” He says to you, but his eyes are locked on the juncture of your thighs, a hiss leaving the both of you when he pushes his tip in.

“Ow,” you whisper, despite being slick enough to take him easily, there’s still that initial pinch of adjustment while his mouth falls open from the vice grip of you around him.

“You okay?” He asks you with a shaky breath.

“It’s just so big,” You say thickly, furrowing your brows as he eases deeper into you.

“I’ll have you good and stretched out—fuck— before too long, baby.”

You clench around him with his promise, wanting nothing more than for him to do just that.

When he bottoms out, you’re reaching for him, wanting him on top of you, as close as he can be.

Grabbing your legs to rest them on his shoulder, he sinks deeper into you and you close your eyes, feeling his lips press to your temple when he crawls over you.

“I’m so full.” You whisper, looking up at him with watering eyes at the pleasure of him slowly pulling out of you only to slam back in.

“You’re gonna be when I come, too,” He gets it out roughly before kissing you, his thrusts becoming quicker but keeping their depth, your toes curling and your hands roaming his muscular arms and back before settling in his hair.

Any other time he’d fuss about his precious curls being harassed, but sex is never a time for complaining in his eyes—whatever makes you feel better, screaming louder, come harder, he’s in full support of it, so long as he gets to watch your pretty face as you do so.

Your compressed lungs struggle for breath, the heat of him over you eating you alive as the stretch of his cock pounding into you renders you speechless aside from moans.

He leans down to kiss you, and you eagerly return it, your tongues working together in a lazy, sloppy, dance.

When the two of you are like this, it’s hard to believe that you aren’t in-love. That’s why it’s so damn hard to walk away.

You regain your vocals when he pulls from your lips and his hand snakes between you and starts toying with your clit again, licking his lips when you untangle your arms from him and start trying to get away.

“I can’t, baby, I can’t, I can’t,” You beg, the sensation nearly painful as another orgasm builds in you, your abdomen already trying to recover from earlier in the night.

“You can, just let go, baby, I wanna feel you,” He tells you, feeling more of your juices coat him as you grow louder with your cute little whimpers that try to stifle your screams.

That is until he’s pulling from you, flipping you to your stomach and re-entering you.

It’s impossible not to be loud like this.

He learned long ago if he wanted you to really show out, you had to be bent over and rode into.

The mattress does absolutely nothing to quiet your cries—and you are crying—the ecstasy laying into you relentlessly with your back arching painfully as you take him to the brim.

The back of your thighs get soaked from your own arousal in this position, running down them, getting all over his legs, the mattress below the two of you…

Your have to bite into the covers when he angles himself to find that spot again, and when he does, it’s hell.

“There she is,” He praises you as you grow louder than before, struggling to keep your ass up with your shuddering thighs as your hot walls spasm around his length, “Just like that, y/n, you keep taking it.”

He kept to his word, your pussy ruined with him, the sight of your swollen cunt greedily accepting him being enough to make him clench his jaw and chase his own release.

“Do you still want it?” Josh asks you, struggling to keep himself together.

“As deep as you can, baby, please,” You beg, and he does as you ask, burying himself to the hilt as he comes with a sighed out, “Fuck, y/n.”

He stays inside of you as you both calm, his lips meeting the base of your back as he catches his breath.

The two of you collapse beside one another, sharing a sweet kiss as he looks at you with those big, beautiful brown eyes of his that always seem to convince you that this will end differently than what you both know it will.

That’s why you’re here, after all.

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet smut #greta van fic #fanfic #gvf fic #josh kiszka #josh kiskza smut #gvf josh #josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka fanfiction #josh kiszka x reader #josh gvf #josh kiskza fanfic

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itsclydebitches · 1 year ago

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Zevlor: An Angsty Character Analysis

Hey, Zevlor simps. Can I interest anyone in 4,000 words about our favorite disaster tiefling? 💀

“We can’t stay, but we’ll be slaughtered if we leave—we’re no fighters.”

Back during my first play-through this is the line that turned Zevlor from another dime-a-dozen, exposition spouting NPC to a character I was legitimately interested in. “We’re no fighters.” My DnD ignorance abounds, but even I could see that wasn’t an accurate statement. Here’s a mountain of a man sporting fancier armor than my level 2 Tav knows exists yet, having wrecked half the goblin hoard with his crossbow and, if you let him, he'll happily turn to punching as a solution to verbal disagreements. Plus, he’s clearly the one giving the orders, so what do you mean you’re not a fighter?

Having explored the Grove a bit I chalked it up to a generalized assessment of the refugees as a whole. They’re mostly kids, civilians, and would-be protectors who only look the part of fighters in cobbled-together armor. One woman is grappling with the guilt of killing someone for the first time, even an enemy. Lakrissa is sure they’re all going to get slaughtered and is willing to put money on that fact. Meanwhile, the couple you meet are more concerned with what pet they’ll get when they somehow, someway, make it to the city. Don't worry about how that'll happen. You learn later that even those like Ronan are small potatoes compared to most of the baddies you’ll face. On paper he looks and sounds like the real deal—dressed in robes, talking up an apprenticeship with the famous Lorroakan—but scenes like the celebration light show and his own fury at needing to be saved, again, highlight how far he still has to go. The point is that Zevlor is right: these aren’t fighters and he at 18 strength, paladin, former commander, is definitely the exception.

However, BG3 is the sort of detail-heavy game where I’d expect them to include that exception in the dialogue. “We can’t stay, but we’ll be slaughtered if we leave—these people aren’t fighters.” Zevlor’s inclusion of himself in this assessment continued to nag at me and it didn’t start to make sense until I delved into his tag here on tumblr, with more patient players than myself posting everything there is to know about the tiefling. (Thanks, all.) Zevlor is fascinating to me in part because he has this contradictory nature, one example of which is that he’s a very talented fighter who desperately doesn’t want to be a fighter anymore.

…but also he totally does.

We overhear in his dialogue to Tilses that Zevlor is adamant about shedding the titles he’s earned through combat: Hellrider, Commander, Sir. He insists that they’re just civilians now and it’s not like he’s being disingenuous here—note that he introduces himself as just “Zevlor” to Tav. Zevlor means what he says to Tilses and we can see that he’s trying to both reinforce his point and lesson the blow by referring to her as “Tilly.” The nickname is a sweet one, hinting at their close bond in just a single word, reminding her that he’s not saying this to hurt her, he cares for her… but the nickname is simultaneously something he never would have used as her commander. The intimacy meant to comfort is also a hard blow to weather. They're now people who use nicknames inappropriate for the hierarchy of battle.

So Zevlor means what he says here, means it enough that Tilses is convinced and drops her use of “Commander,” but there’s definitely a hint of bitterness in his voice. At least, I’ve always heard it. Zevlor is steadfast in his conviction here, even going so far as to say, “I’m done soldiering, Tilly” when discussing what will come next at Baldur’s Gate. Yet for all of that his tone conveys (understandable) anger and disappointment that it’s come to this. Zevlor doesn’t act like someone who truly wants this change, but rather someone who’s been forced to accept it.

Is it outside forces unwillingly influencing him then? Did Avernus truly change things irrevocably? No, not really. At least, not in the way Zevlor likes to claim. Tilses herself states that being a Hellrider is for life; nothing can take away that title. You lost your post? Your whole city? Most of the people under your protection? Doesn’t matter! You’re a Hellrider forever, no matter the circumstances. I can easily picture a time in Zevlor's life where he would have agreed with Tilses wholeheartedly. They are Hellriders, dammit, and so long as there’s one person looking for their help they will wield that title alongside their blades. And right now, Zevlor has a lot more than just one person in need of his assistance.

So it’s not that Avernus truly stripped them of that identity. Nothing can do that. Zevlor is not rejecting titles and planning retirement because the mechanisms of fate are forcing him to.

He’s doing all that because he’s lost confidence in himself.

Even as someone with a shaky understanding of DnD classes, I love the parallel between a broken oath and the rejection of a lifelong title. If Zevlor can fail in his oath—or in his faith entirely, according to the memories stemming from his pod—why-ever would he think that any other ‘permanent’ part of his identity was worth fighting for? If you can loose the very thing you’ve built your entire life around, every important aspect of yourself, tied to your very soul… what’s a bestowed title compared to that? Zevlor doesn’t believe himself worthy of being a Hellrider anymore, but I think that goes deeper than a string of horrific circumstances making him feel incompetent. As an Oathbreaker, Zevlor likely believes that if he couldn’t uphold that, he can’t uphold anything. Calling himself a Hellrider would be a lie. A fiction. A pathetic, dangerous, insulting fiction at that. It’s like calling yourself the “Hero” while continually failing those around you. Sure, others might insist it’s a title you’ve earned, one you will always carry with you, but you don’t believe them anymore and at a certain point calling yourself that feels worse than embracing the title of “Villain." You don’t want to be the villain… but you want to pretend you’re the hero even less. Pretending is exhausting.

We see this struggle in the many ways that Zevlor fails, or almost fails, to uphold the ideals that originally guided him. I use the term “villain” above deliberately because Zevlor is not merely a former hero-type who’s self confidence has been shattered, or who has been reduced to a civilian, or who thinks themselves useless; he’s actively fighting against temptations that, under less stressful situations, he’d never even consider. I don’t think he is a villain, I think he’s a flawed, struggling victim who sees his own, inevitable mistakes as villainous—and the longer that warped perspective continues the easier it is to fall into bad behaviors. This cycle is perfectly summarized in the autobiography Zevlor keeps by his bed:

“When every passer-by thinks you a thief and a heretic, it is deeply tempting to become one.”

We don’t know if this is Zevlor’s autobiography (as far as I’m aware, anyway) but even if it’s not the words have clearly resonated enough for him to keep them nearby. This particular line paints a pretty clear picture of Zevlor’s struggle. If everyone you meet says you’re devil-kin, vermin, or would-be criminal, isn’t it easier to just give them what they want? If you can’t persuade them otherwise, why put in the effort of trying? If he can’t be Faithful to his God, why have faith in anything at all? If he can’t save these people—setback after setback, mistake after mistake—why is he even making the effort?

Zevlor obviously is trying, very, very hard, which is why such thoughts are merely temptations rather than actual, questionable actions. Still, the Grove gives us numerous examples of the precipice he’s balanced on—and the ways Tav can tip him in one direction or another. You can talk Zevlor down from his anger and get him to acknowledge his disgust in nearly sinking to Aradin’s level. You can also let him boil over and punch the human at a time when the last thing anyone needs is more violence. You can convince Zevlor that there are peaceful ways of stopping Kagha's ritual, or you can help him in pursuing the darker temptation to kill her. It’s a “low” thought, but at his own admission he hasn’t been above entertaining it. Zevlor’s requests for help, though always polite and humble, carry a spark of manipulation in them too. He’s not above leveraging your previously selfless good deed to his advantage—"She owes you for saving this grove"—and if you approach him before speaking with Kagha he’ll claim that the ritual will “be trouble—for all of us.” Except, no? Not really? Tav can make it clear that they’re just here for a healer, they’re only passing through, and as a fighter they are not beholden to the Grove’s sanctuary as the teiflings are. It’s not trouble for everyone involved, yet Zevlor frames it as such in the hopes that (unnecessary) self-interest may motivate you if selflessness fails. Finally, if Zevlor dies in your play-through and you use Speak the Dead on him, he will admit to having “plenty” of secrets, none of which he’ll share. Admittedly, this may be the result of cut content, specifically a story-line in which Zevlor knowingly betrays the tieflings rather than being tricked by the Absolute. Still, the game as it stands is the story we have and within it we’re given a man who is both fighting against these dark urges (ha) and has a past riddled with secrets. If Zevlor is anything, it’s blunt when it comes to his own failings, accurate and otherwise. So how terrible must these secrets be that he outright refuses to divulge them when, generally speaking, most corpses speak freely in death?

However, out of all of this the struggle I’m most intrigued by is the one surrounding the gate. Zevlor represents the tieflings: persecuted refugees, vulnerable civilians, people seeking to survive through cooperation, specifically by joining a community. Kagha represents the druids (or at least a vocal subset of them in Halsin’s absence): bigoted individuals, powerful fighters, people seeking to survive by giving in to their fears, specifically by keeping themselves isolated. This is the moral dichotomy of the Grove and it is symbolized through the gate. Zevlor wants to open it to everyone whereas Kagha wants to close it, permanently.

So isn’t it odd that Zevlor is the one ordering it shut?

When the scene first starts Kanon shouts down that no, he won’t open the gate. Zevlor said that no one is allowed in. Notably, he’s saying this to Aradin and his crew, people that the Grove is at least passingly familiar with, given that Halsin left with them to search the temple. It’s also notable that Zevlor isn’t expecting goblins to attack the Grove. He’s shocked that this is suddenly a problem, brought about by Aradin’s decision—“You lead them here?”— and the entire point of staying at the Grove is that it’s at least comparatively safe. Yes, there have been more attacks lately, but Zevlor seems to be relying on the Grove’s relatively unknown location, as well as the fact that goblins are normally disorganized. The safety is only compromised because Aradin brought a hunting party back, so Zevlor has no reason to expect any visitors, let alone ones that would be a threat.

More importantly, he should welcome such visitors even if he did expect them. After all, that’s precisely what the tieflings are: strangers with no ulterior motives other than to survive. Broadly speaking it makes perfect sense why he'd shut the gates. Zevlor’s first priority is to his people, so anything that keeps them safe is, theoretically, a good thing. But through the lens of his specific characterization and this specific, moral dilemma, it’s an awfully hypocritical decision. Based on everything we’ve seen, our party would not have been welcomed by Zevlor if we’d arrived without danger on our heels and a rescue to endear him to us. So his people should be welcomed, trusted, kept safe, given the benefit of the doubt… but Zevlor isn’t necessarily willing to extend that same trust to others. At the end of the day, he and Kagha want a version of the same thing: safety for those they deem are worthy of it.

It’s precisely these flaws and temptations that make Zevlor such a great character to me, even before he’s tricked by the Absolute. The fandom has leaned hard into Zevlor’s self-loathing and let me tell you, I love it (kisses, hugs, and cookies for you all), but canonically I think he has more reason to fear himself than we tend to portray in the H/C fics. I’m not saying he’s a bad person. Rather, it’s precisely because Zevlor is such a good person that he has the capacity to fall so far. It’s his all-consuming desire to protect his family that leads Zevlor to do and consider so much that a paladin would normally balk at. Denying others the safety you’ve been granted. Subtly manipulating others to do your dirty work. Considering murder.

Zevlor is someone torn between doing the Right Thing and the thing he believes will help those under his care survive. Importantly, when we first meet him he considers these to be two separate courses of action. So can you imagine what goes through his head when he first sees Tav saving everyone and doing so righteously? I think it’s integral to Zevlor’s characterization that the game all but forces you to play the Good Guy in that initial encounter. A cut scene starts, you’re thrown into combat immediately afterwards, and unless you plan to start attacking the Grove members alongside the goblins (which the mechanics discourage through the coloring that distinguishes enemies from allies) you will always finish this fight as Zevlor’s hero. Sure, you can be an asshole afterwards and demand payment. You could already be plotting your betrayal and the slaughter of all the refugees. But in this moment you are nothing but a miracle made flesh in his eyes. Right from the start Tav is succeeding in all the ways Zevlor feels like he's failed. You're the hero.

More specifically, you’re an Every-Man Hero. We might have epic backstories for our Tavs, but within confines of the game you’re largely a nobody when not playing an Origin character. How powerful must that have been to witness then? A total stranger, someone who has no ties to the tieflings or even, depending on your class, any sworn reason to help others, putting their life on the line to save what is most precious to Zevlor? I think a lot about the fact that he never asks Wyll to step in and try to change Kagha’s mind. She owes him just as much as she does Tav—Wyll is an equal participant in that fight and, if your shoddy play style is anything like mine, he likely did more damage—and Wyll is clearly invested in the tiefling’s survival, training the kids as he is. Now, obviously Zevlor’s reticence is largely a question of assigned roles (we need to be the one engaging with Kagha because we’re the protagonist/player) but, like Zevlor’s choice to include himself in the Not a Fighter group, it would have been all too easy to explain this away within the narrative. One comment about how Wyll already tried and failed, or how Kagha doesn’t trust Warlocks, or hell, maybe you don’t meet Wyll in the Grove at all. It’s an easy thing to accomplish and though this is edging more into the realm of headcanon than anything else, I can’t help but think that Wyll isn’t the kind of person that Zevlor could turn to for help right now. Because he’s a folk hero. The Blade of Frontiers, known far and wide for his impressive, selfless deeds. Zevlor is struggling so hard to keep the tieflings safe, tempted by all the unsavory solutions that might achieve that, drowning in self-hatred as his past and current failings catch up with him, wanting nothing more than to be his peoples’ protector:

“I would be a paladin again—with a god’s purpose, a god’s power. Everything I needed to protect my people. And all the while, the cult tortured them. They fought, and ran, and died around me, while I imagined myself their savior.”

Three of the things Zevlor mutters while trapped in the pod are “Hellrider… for… life…,” “Trust… in me…,” and “Children… look away… look at me…” He wants to be the protector, the one children look to for reassurance, he wants his words to Tilly to be a lie and he wants a way to prove that he is a Hellrider for life… but he’s not. At least, Zevlor doesn’t believe it. He lost his titles while Wyll still proudly bears his. Wyll trains the children to fight while Zevlor can only get swept up in anger at them being threatened. The people trust Wyll, adore him, he’s the hero and Zevlor… is not. Not anymore.

It’s too painful to approach Wyll and admit all that. That would be a hell of a blow to Zevlor's pride. But Tav? A stranger? A nobody? The Every-man who had no reason to help or reputation pressuring them, saving them anyway? That’s inspiring. Someone like Tav could be the answer and even, perhaps, the proof that Zevlor could redeem himself. Neither of them are folk heroes, untouchable in their assumed perfection. Tav is a living, breathing example of how the flawed, everyday adventurer can be everything Zevlor strives for.

No wonder he won’t shut up about them in the Shadowlands.

All of this is why it’s so tragic that Zevlor wasn’t given a redemption arc. Sure, you can recruit him for the final battle against the Netherbrain, but there’s no quest to change the cast’s opinion of him—or change Zevlor’s opinion of himself. All his content at the end of Act 2 and Act 3 reinforces that self-hatred.

Let’s make a list, shall we?

Nearly every line of his reunion with Tav has Zevlor painting himself in the worst light possible, from “a lie kinder than the truth” to his refusal to join you because he believes he’ll stab you in the back. You cannot convince him of the Absolute’s manipulation and there’s no response to his belief that such horrors start within the person like, “Of course it does! Because we’re all flawed and equally capable of good and evil deeds! That potential doesn’t make you irredeemable, Zevlor, it makes you mortal!!”

He’s utterly failed as his peoples’ champion and he’s also deemed “unworthy” of being a True Soul. Obviously not being chosen by the Absolute is a good thing, but for a man drowning in self-loathing that’s one hell of a complicated rejection.

Nearly all the tieflings hate him now, all those people he’s been sacrificing his soul to keep safe. I found it particularly devastating that this is one of the rare occasions where nailing a persuasion check doesn’t change the person’s mind. There’s at least one tiefling at Moonrise (I’m drawing a blank on her name) who will believe you when you explain how the Absolute influenced Zevlor, but that doesn’t lead to forgiveness.

Zevlor is deemed unimportant on a literal, narrative level. He is very easy to miss in the pods (I nearly did on my first play-through) and the game does incredibly little to dissuade you from that mistake. Putting aside for a moment that obviously an Origin companion is more significant than a minor NPC, compare this to Shadowheart screaming from her own pod, the game making it abundantly clear that this is someone in need of help—someone worth rescuing. She’ll even say later that you could have run past, more concerned with your own survival and the big picture heroics to bother with her. How must it feel then, if Zevlor ever learns that Tav was there and never stopped for him?

If you do miss Zevlor… oh boy. We’ve probably all seen at least a recording of Orin’s so-called gift. There are plenty of characters who can meet untimely and devastating ends, but very few go through this level of horror. Zevlor—after being held captive, remember—is tortured by God’s Favorite Torturer. He is stripped of his personhood and reduced to a mere “message,” a “pet.” Zevlor is further humiliated in death by being literally stripped of his armor—not just vulnerable in his nakedness, but denied the last symbol of his faith, his status, his power—and it’s always struck me that this is the closest we see to him 'enjoying' an intimate moment, this parody in Orin’s painting. Zevlor is one of the NPC’s most in need of physical comfort and instead he’s forced into this torturous mockery of a sex scene. It also hits hard that when Tav first spots his body the narration says that Zevlor “might almost be sleeping.” Undoubtedly this is a man who isn’t taking good care of himself. He needs a good night’s rest, yet this horrifying trick is all he gets.

As if all this weren’t enough, most of your companion are VERY critical of Zevlor while commenting on his demise. It’s one thing for the tieflings to believe the worst given their ignorance and the fact that they are the ones who suffered from Zevlor’s failure, but your company understands the Absolute and the ways that she gets her hooks in people. Still, Astarion calls him a “wet rag” even if he did deserve better than this. Shadowheart wouldn’t have wished this on him either, but she can’t help but slip in a “no matter his failings.” Lae’zel, often the most blunt, straight up says that he was “always destined to fail his people—and to fail us.” Wyll shakes his head and intones that “even good intentions can lead us down deadly paths.” Only Gale and Karlach stick to mourning the dead rather than airing his shortcomings.

When I spoke to my allies before the final battle Zevlor didn’t have a cut scene. It became clear to me later that this must have been a bug in my play-through, but at the time it only reinforced my feelings that his story was incomplete. Looking on Youtube I’ve found recordings of him saying that he is a Hellrider once more and he would “die a proud man if [he] were to die this day”… but that rings as terribly hollow given where we left him. Last we were together, Zevlor was saying in no uncertain terms that he could not be trusted, he would fail again, he was unworthy of forgiveness. Where did this change of heart come from? It makes perfect sense that he would help Tav in this moment—he begs to be of some use after getting free—but not that he would present himself with such confidence. Within the story as it’s been told this feels… fake. Like Zevlor is putting on a mask to fit the mood of this lively, optimistic party. Which, in turn, gives the “I would die a proud man” line a terrifying implication to me. Does Zevlor expect to die this day? Does he intend to? What would persuade him not to lay down his life here and now? His mission is complete. The tieflings are safe—though not by his hand. There's no hero's welcome waiting for him after this battle. They hate him. He hates himself, and by his own admission the one thing that could still make him proud would be to die at Tav’s side, trying to do one last bit of good. If someone said that to me after everything Zevlor has been through I would keep them far away from the front lines.

(I did, for the record lol.)

I’m not saying anything new then when I go, “Larian, PLEASE add more to his story.” Give us a Zevlor side-quest to renew his oath. Let us invite him to our camp. Something to link the broken man mid-game and the confident fighter at the end so that the latter doesn’t feel like an alarm bell with two legs and a tail. I mean yeah, I get hooked on minor characters so 75% of this is simply me wanting more content of a fave, but I also I do legitimately believe that BG3’s story would benefit from tying up loose ends like this.

Zevlor is a fantastic character, someone who contains an astounding amount of complexity for so little screen time. You have to follow up on that complexity though. If he’s meant to be a purely tragic figure, okay, fine, that’s the ending you get with Orin. But one where he joins you with a smile and reclaims a title he's previously rejected with such fervor requires more work in the middle; a through-line that explains how someone with so much self-loathing learns to think of himself as the hero again.

Because it does all come down to Zevlor’s perception of himself. He was always a hero, flaws and all. He always was and always will be a Hellrider.

The UI knows what's up :)

#BG3 #Zevlor #bg3 Zevlor #wow this took forever #someone cry over this wet cat of a tiefling with me #mymetas

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cressidagrey · 5 months ago

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Dust off your Highest Hopes - Part 2

Summary:

Eavesdroppers never hear anything good about themselves, goes the idiom.

When Solana hears an admission from the High Lord of Day, she’s ill-prepared for it. She doesn’t believe in fairytales any longer, but maybe there was a happily ever after for Solana and Helion somewhere.

Warnings:

Mention of Rape, Mention of Domestic Violence. It's all in the past, it's non graphic, but Solana is still dealing with it.

Notes:

This was supposed to be a one shot. One day I will find a way to be less wordy.

(thanks to @tsunami-of-tears for the super pretty dividers!)

Contrary to popular belief, Helion Spell-Cleaver, High Lord of the Day Court, was actually quite picky about who he took to bed.

It probably came as a shock to many, because tales of his virility and pursuits had been spread far and wide…and oftentimes embellished beyond recognition. He didn’t even want to know what the librarians in a few thousand years would make out of him.

He had his own set of rules for it as well. As often as possible, nobody from his own court, because that never ended well. No female that had the kind of scheming and social climbing mother that would make sure that an accidental pregnancy was going to happen one way or another. If the person he was interested in had a spouse, then only if the spouse was interested as well. (Mostly because he was just not interested in the kind of jealousy-induced displays that could result in.)

And regardless of what many people thought…He did not actually bed a new person each night. Or even each week or each month.

And there was a reason why he did it in the first place.

He had the tragic habit of falling for Females that were completely and utterly unavailable to him.

Amara had been the first.

His mate.

Just that by the time the Mating Bond had snapped…Amara had already been the Lady of Autumn. Had already had 6 sons from her High Lord husband.

If there was something like tragedy, then this had been it.

They had both known that it was impossible. That there was no chance for them. Not in this world.

There had only been one night. One stolen night that they had…spent together. One stolen night, where he had kissed her forehead and then let her go. The son he hadn’t known he had, had been the result of that.

Just a couple of years later…seemingly in the blink of an eyes…Helion’s brother Castor’s Mating Bond had snapped.

Solana Mousav as she had been then, had been 19, fresh-faced and wide-eyed. So young. So innocent. Not married. No High Lord husband hanging over her head. No. She had stars glittering in her eyes and had stared at his brother in stark adoration.

Everything Helion had ever wanted…Castor had gotten it. He had gotten this absolute gift of a mating bond to a girl who had loved him from the first time she had seen him. Who had adored him.

The daughter of one of their father‘s councilmembers, high enough in rank that she could have made an easily accepted wife, even without the Mating Bond.

Castor had hit the lottery with her.

And then spent nearly three centuries kicking that gift he had been given with his feet.

Helion hadn’t been able to stomach watching it.

Not because of how he treated Solana but because he was unspeakably jealous.

Castor had gotten his mate, his wife, and had never needed to worry about anybody not accepting her or their bond.

And Helion…Helion didn’t.

So while his brother stayed near their father, Helion had filled his days with everything but that. They were fresh off a war…they were…he helped rebuild their fighting forces, he researched and he aided and he did everything so that he didn’t need to come home.

Didn’t need to watch Castor and Solana be gloriously happy.

Still, he was the recipient of many, many care packages from Solana, filled with sweets and books and the subtle scent of roses and orange blossoms. Small notes from her, impersonal but friendly.

He had been a fool. He hadn’t even entertained the thought that Castor would lay a hand on her in anger…until he had been home in Odeira, they were supposed to attend a symphony performance that evening and he had walked in on his brother and Solana, his brother’s hand yanking her arm so harshly that he knew that purple bruises would spread over her skin, while his other hand had been groping her chest, her dress ripped apart.

Her cheeks had been burning with her shame, her eyes downcast when she had realised that he had seen that.

He would always give himself the fault for not killing Castor then and there.

Helion could have spared Solana another century of pain.

But he hadn’t. He hadn‘t. He had broken Castor‘s arm and threatened him to treat his wife properly. That had been that.

And in his incredible wisdom, Helion had thought that this would be enough. That Castor would behave himself. Apologise to Solana. Beg on his fucking knees for her forgiveness and never do anything like this again.

It wasn’t enough.

He had never asked Solana what price she had paid for his stupidity. He wasn’t sure if he could stomach it.

And then fucking Amarantha had happened. It had ended with both of his parents dead and him High Lord…

And then Amarantha had killed Castor. Nearly an afterthought.

Maybe she had thought that Helion would be easier to control than his brother. He hadn’t done anything…Had been unable to do anything in that godforsaken mountain…anything but grasp Solana, and hold her back from trying to save her mate. He had known that that would simply end in Solana's death too.

And he couldn’t have her die as well.

Still, Helion would never forget that scream of anguish that broke out of her throat as Castor’s head rolled over the floor towards her.

Would never forget that feeling of the glamours on her body snapping…as the male that had cast them had died.

The bruises that had painted her skin for the world to see.

Layers upon layers of them onto her skin. He had been shocked that she had been able to still walk and talk normally…that nothing had seemed amiss from the surface.

Only then it had become clear to him, what exactly his brother had spent centuries doing to his mate.

And what the court had watched and let happen.

One of the first things he had done…the only thing he still could…was to try and get Solana out from under the mountain as long and as quickly as he could have. It had cost him dearly, but he would have paid every price for it. And so Solana settled back in Odeira, sending him notes about her progress there…always spelt that they would only show up for his eyes, that they would disappear as soon as he had read them, whenever Amarantha had requested his presence under the mountain.

He had handed her the keys to his Kingdom. And Solana had kept it as safe as she could, cradled in her hands.

The Day Court owed her a debt for it. Helion owed her for this.

And so maybe it shouldn’t have surprised him.

Falling for Amara had been immediate, blinding.

Solana…she had slipped up on him. Slipped up on him, because she had twisted and changed as soon as his brother’s head had rolled over that ground. Slowly, carefully…like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon.

She had been Castor’s widow for a good twenty years and then…one day…she had showed up for breakfast in a light lavender dress.

No more black that leeched every bit of colour from her tawny skin. Back where the coloured dresses. Gold earrings had decorated her lobes. Sun shaped. Showing everybody where she belonged to.

And somehow…somehow that had given his feelings permission to flourish like a plant after a decade-long drought.

Somehow that had made him want her…desperately.

Solana was…magnificent.

There was no other word for it.

The pulsing heart of the Day Court safely ensconced in Sunray Palace. The court that she kept running, regardless of what happened.

And then Amarantha had died and he had come home for good and she had smiled at him, as she dropped into a picture-perfect curtsy… Welcome Home, High Lord.

And that had been that.

Working closer together with her, letting her deal with the expectations of the Court, with the nobles, with the servants, with the palace…

Everything the Lady of the Court did…Solana caught it and did it herself.

It was just the two of them, every other member of their family dead.

Just them.

And she had bitten her teeth into it all, and not let go. He had always been able to trust her. Trust that his court was in the very best of hands…trust that she was loyal to him and nobody else.

Regardless of what happened…she had taken it all in stride.

Helion could trust her with anything and be sure that Solana would do everything in her power to make it better.

She had sat through many of these first few meetings with Lucien after everything had gone down in the Autumn Court…smoothing over the edges for both of them, pushing them together until…

The fact that Lucien and Elain had made their home in the Day Court…he owed that to Solana. To Solana and her sweetness and kindness and her ability to stay flawlessly polite through anything. She had befriended Elain easily and Lucien appreciated her wit and candor.

A million and one things she did and somehow Solana did it all with the same easy grace.

How could any other female even start to compare to that?

“Good Morning!" Elain pulled him out of his near-daily thoughts that always came to the same conclusion: Regardless of what feelings he had for Solana…she should never find out.

“Good Morning,” he gave back, just as Elain slapped down a whole stack of leather-bound books next to her plate as Lucien pulled out a chair for her.

“Accounts?” Helion asked with a nod to the books and Elain nodded.

“Yes. I am supposed to figure out where to “cut the fat”, so to speak,” Elain said brightly.

It was a well-thought-out job for the daughter of a merchant. “Ah. Solana?” Helion asked, already knowing the answer and Elain bobbled her head into another nod, a bright smile on her face as Helion poured tea into her cup.

“Yes, I am having a meeting with the Steward about this later today…” Elain said. “I have some ideas…though I don’t think he’s actually taking me seriously,” she mumbled, faltering into her enthusiasm.

Helion sighed. “Oh, he’s probably not, but it’s not about you personally,” he assured her. “Most of the servants tend to be… overly protective about Solana.”

Not that he could fault them for that. Not after Castor.

Though it had taken on an even worse edge, after that incident they had a year ago that had involved Kallias’ younger brother and Solana’s mother conspiring to try and get Solana married off. Again.

Helion was still pissed off that he hadn’t gotten to run his sword through Khion’s throat, for the bruises that had painted Solana’s skin once again.

Still, they couldn’t let that out on Elain. Especially not because he knew that Elain wouldn’t ever do anything to Solana. Had been nothing but respectful of Solana’s place in this court.

“Have you talked to Solana? Make sure that your orders don’t go against hers. She wouldn’t care, but the servants will,” Helion advised, as he buttered his bread. “Make sure the two of you are on the same page and they’ll be quicker to accept you.”

“I’ll catch up with her today. She was going to meet with some artisans about new porcelain and I got invited!” Elain said brightly, before growing seriously. “Solana is making this as easy for me as it could be. I really appreciate that.”

“She’s the best,” Helion said easily.

She was. There was no question about it.

And still, the question Lucien posed next made him freeze with his slice of toast suspended midway between his plate and his mouth: “Are you aware that you are in love with her?”

“What?” Was it that obvious? It shouldn’t be that obvious. He didn’t want Solana to have to deal with even more gossip about herself. That wouldn’t be fair.

It was his secret to carry…the weight on his shoulders. And he would take it to his grave. She should never find out what he was feeling.

The toast hit his plate, and his stomach suddenly felt like ash.

“Are you still stuck in denial?” Lucien demanded, a smile playing around the corners of his mouth. “Or are you in the *She’s my best friend and she’s the one thing that is keeping this court running and the servants adore her and we attend symphony performances together and we walk in the garden and my Pegasus loves her but it’s all totally platonic*phase?”

Solana was his best friend. Solana was the one that was keeping the Day Court running…The servants did adore her. Helion loved attending symphony performances with her because Solana loved music. And they walked in the garden, her hand in the crook of his elbow and she talked to him about everything and nothing, about all the gossip that she had snapped up and everything she was planning to do in their court and that was…

Meallan adored her, too. As did Clodagh, his mate…and Helion had been on more than one occasion jealous of his bloody Pegasus because he had gotten more attention than him from Solana.

Still. He hadn’t thought that anybody else…anybody else would pick up on it. Not in a…different way than Helion doting on the only family he had left…on his sister-in-law because that’s what she was, right? She was his brother’s mate, even when Castor was dead.

But alone to let Castor keep that claim about her…when Helion had seen what he had done to Solana…it was making him furious.

“Be nice, Lucien,” Elain said pointedly. “We talked about this.” She glared at Lucien, who pointedly looked towards the ceiling in response.

What?

“You talked about this,” Helion repeated. What?

“Of course, we did,” Elain agreed immediately. “I spent nearly a month thinking Solana was your mistress until Lucien told me otherwise,” she pointed out reasonably.

Alone these words in connection to Solana made him fucking furious. It wasn’t Elain’s fault, he couldn’t fault her for this. She didn’t know the full story, she didn’t know everything that had gone on in the last…oh, around 300-odd years?

Still.

“I would never do that to her,” Helion spat out. “This whole Court has failed her once already. I have failed her once. I will not be part of a second time.”

No. He would rather never have Solana at all than to put her into a position like that…treat her that disrespectfully.

“Is that why the servants are that protective?” Lucien asked him, cocking his head to the side. Even Lucien didn’t know everything. Didn’t know how bad things had been between Castor and Solana…didn’t know about all the bruises that had littered her skin…

And Helion often wondered if the bruises had been everything he had done to her. Somehow Helion doubted it. Somehow Helion thought that it probably had been even worse.

“They couldn’t protect her against my brother. But they will protect her against any perceived threat on my part,” Helion answered, dark amusement colouring his voice. The servants did everything in their power to make it easier for her. Just as they should. They were overprotective over her, and Helion appreciated that more than he could possibly say. “They’ll choose her over me in a heartbeat. The Day Court needs Solana. I can be replaced. She can’t be.”

If he died, the magic would choose a new High Lord. If Solana died…the carefully oiled wheels that kept the Day Court up and running would collapse, he was sure.

“You haven’t answered the question,” Lucien pointed out at that moment, mustering him with his eyes…one brown, one golden and mechanical…

It wasn’t even a question. Not really. Not a question that he needed to think about the answer at least.

“Of course, I am in love with Solana,” Helion said quietly.

He was very much aware of that.

He wasn’t in denial.

“Then why don’t you do anything about it?” Lucien asked him drily.

“Because I am never going to put Solana into a position where she thinks that she…she is required to return my affections,” he spat out.

And she would think that.

If he went to her and he admitted his undying love to her…He knew that Solana was not going to turn him down. For numerous reasons.

She was her mother’s daughter, she was smart and self-protective enough that she knew exactly how badly it could go for her if she turned down the personal attention of a High Lord. So regardless of what Solana felt for him, alone for that reason, she wasn’t going to turn him down.

And then add to that the fact that Solana was too sweet and kind for her own good and would probably not want to hurt him by turning him down and so she would agree and suffer in silence so that Helion wasn’t going to be hurt.

And probably the biggest part of it…Solana had been treated absolutely abhorrently by Helion’s brother. She probably was absolutely terrified that it turned out that he had just as bad a temper as Castor had had.

Regardless of how he would tell her…all of that would make it impossible for her to make a true decision that wasn’t coloured by fear for herself and her own life.

It wasn’t fair.

“She wouldn’t think that!” Elain protested but Helion held up a hand, brokering no argument.

“Yes, she would,” he agreed. “With her past…that’s exactly what she would think,” he said, his voice turning weak. “And I would rather never have her at all, only have her as a friend, than to have her think even for one moment that I would force her into anything that she doesn’t want.”

Both Elain and Lucien were quiet at that.

“Solana made her choice centuries ago,” Elain said calmly. “Did you know that you are the reason why she never even entertains the idea of a second husband? Because then her loyalty would be split between her husband and you and she doesn’t want that. She has admitted that to me,” Elain pointed out carefully.

“Be that as it may…” he started but Lucien interrupted him.

“No,” Lucien said drily. “ Look, we just want you to be happy. You and Solana, because she has been nothing but lovely to both of us, ever since we met her. So just talk to her. You two never have a problem to talk to each other. Just talk to her,” Lucien implored.

He gritted his teeth.

“Please,” Lucien added pointedly, waiting until Helion looked at him. “Da. Talk to her.”

“You are playing dirty,” Helion pointed out, crossing his arms. Lucien never called him that. But now Lucien was just grinning at him, looking more carefree than Helion had ever seen him.

“If it’s working, it’s worth it,” he said with a shrug.

“She won’t refuse you,” Elain added. “And not because she doesn’t think she can, but because she loves you too.”

It was a much-needed vote of confidence because Helion highly doubted it. Solana treated him with the same kindness she reserved for everybody. But she wasn’t in love with him. Right?

“Can you see the future now?” he asked Elain with a sigh, immediately regretting his words, but she just grinned at him.

“I am a Seer,” she pointed out. “Though I do not need any cauldron-given gifts to know that she loves you,” she said with a shrug. “Though…I may had a vision.”

“What kind of vision?” he couldn’t help but ask.

“A vision that only could come true if you talk to her,” Elain said easily. “And next Summer Solstice could be quite interesting.”

Summer Solstice was two months off.

It was making him wonder…making him wonder what exactly Elain had seen.

Summer Solstice, the longest day of the year, was marked with a…renewal ritual.

Sex. It was marked with a Sex ritual.

The Spring Court had Calamai…the Day Court had Summer Solstice.

He swallowed. If Elain had seen something about Summer Solstice that had involved him and Solana…

“I’ll talk to her,” he promised, even when alone the thought of that was making him shake with nerves. Later.

After he had spent a good hour or so petting Meallan and telling him all about his plight. Why where Pegasi easier than people?

(Probably because regardless of how often Meallan stared at him like Helion was an idiot, he never outright said that.)

So if he blew off a meeting he was supposed to be having and instead handed it off to his second in command…nobody needed to know.

Well, Solana would know. Solana would find out and would be annoyed at him, and it would amuse him and then she would get even more annoyed. Her dark brown curls had the charming habit of wildly standing off her head the more annoyed she got.

Sometimes he did it on purpose just because of that.

He made his way up the tower towards the Pegasi stable, trying to gather his thoughts. Though he did make a quick detour to the kitchen to procure some fresh carrots for Meallan and Clodagh.

He was not above some well-meant bribery if that meant that Clodagh was going to let him near enough to her that he could check on her foal.

To his surprise, he found a whole gaggle of long-suffering grooms in front of Meallan and Clodagh’s pen.

“High Lord!” One of them squeaked out and Helion raised an eyebrow in amusement before he suddenly realised what exactly had brought them there: A near opaque, golden shimmery film that covered the door to their pen.

He immediately recognised the handiwork.

In another world, Helion thought, Solana could have been brilliant at Spell-Crafting.

In this one, it was a hobby for her of sorts. Something she dabbled in…nothing that even she took seriously. Little practical little spells that made the life of the servants in the Sunray Palace easier.

Until it was…this.

He swallowed.

He knew what it was…Solana had laid it months ago. A promise to Clodagh that whenever her foal was going to be born, nobody would bother her unless it was Helion and Solana.

It was the work of a moment for him to lay a hand on the door and have the film subside, much to the awed gasp of one groom.

Easy enough to push open that door, step inside and then…

He wasn’t quite sure what he had expected. It probably wasn’t Meallan’s teeth coming precariously close to his chest as the stallion grabbed his shirt and then tugged him forward hurriedly.

Only then…only then he saw Clodagh laying in the straw, a tiny perfect black foal next to her…and right there nestled between them, Solana, who was crying her eyes out like somebody had just died.

Meallan fixed him with a look. Fix this. NOW. He seemed to demand before he headbutted Helion in their direction with a glare.

He had never seen her cry like that before. Not even when Castor had died. Even when her husband had died, Solana had somehow managed to pull herself together into some resemblance of order.

There was nothing orderly about her now. Her hair was in complete disarray, the dress she wore was covered in straw and her face was red and splotchy, thanks to the crying fit she had been having.

A crying fit for which he didn’t know the reason.

The situation must have truly been dire if it had brought Solana to tears like that.

“Solana?” he said softly, making her aware of his presence as he carefully kneeled down next to her. Clodagh was mustering him sternly, like clearly all of this was his fault and was still nuzzling Solana, who just clung tighter to the white mare. “What’s wrong, Sunshine?” Helion asked, using his pet name for her. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened,” she whimpered, burying her face against Clodagh’s neck.

“Then why are you crying?” Helion gave back gently, reaching out to draw a hand down her back. He could feel every single vertebra of her spine, the shudder that worked its way through her body with every sob…the heat of her body through the thin layer of silk.

“I am sorry,” she sobbed and he couldn’t help but flinch.

“Gods, Solana, you don’t need to apologise,” he said hoarsely. For what could she possibly apologise? She had done nothing. Absolutely nothing. Absolutely nothing but everything he needed, his court needed. “Tell me what happened?” he requested again, gently rubbing her back, desperation bleeding into his voice. “We’ll make it right,” he promised her fiercely. “It’s us. We can make everything right.”

“I…” she tried to bring out the words, but another sob took over her frame.

He shushed her softly. “It’s alright,” he soothed her. “Take your time. What’s wrong, sunshine?”

“I heard you.”

#helion x oc #helion x reader #acotar fanfiction #my writing #helion fanfic #helion fanfiction #dust off your highest hopes

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notafunkiller · 1 year ago

Text

cherry

Summary: During your family getaway, things get a little messy when you meet Bucky's old friend.

Pairing: (fake) boyfriend’s brother!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: age gap (r is 26, Bucky is 38/39), teasing, pet names, language, alcohol, mentions of sex, jealousy, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 4.5K

story masterlist

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: This story will have around 4 parts, this is the 2nd part.

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

You keep coming across each other in the morning and during dinner for the next couple of days. He’d refused the offer, you heard from Jessica. You noticed he doesn’t enjoy talking about business in general, so you never open the conversation about it.

His family is really lying to him without shame, and you can sense how cold their bond is, but what can you do? You wish he knew... you wish you could talk about it with him. If only...

That’s why you are surprised when both of your families decide to organize a getaway in Austria for the weekend, and Bucky is coming along.

Thankfully, the cabin you’re staying at has more than enough rooms even with Bucky and William’s sister there.

Rebecca is a physiotherapist, she’s thirty and she lives in France. She seems very close to Bucky. They’ve been hanging around a lot since you arrived.

You wish you could say you are close to your family. You’ve been barely speaking to your mom since this whole arrangement became a real thing. But you didn’t say even a single word to your dad. And Bucky noticed, but he didn’t comment on it even as he helped you get your luggage to your room.

“You know I could have done that myself, right?” You smile.

“No need to. Your boyfriend should have, but he’s a punk.” He shakes his head disapprovingly. “No wonder why you won’t...”

You immediately puff, anticipating what he wanted to say. Why does he want to bring that up? “What, fuck him?”

“I was gonna say share the room with him. My little brother’s sex life is none of my concern.”

You nod, all flushed. “Good. I’ll go take a shower and be right back.”

You don’t know why you tell him this because it’s not like it’s his job to inform anyone. That should be William’s, but he’s not here. And even if he were, you know you wouldn’t ask him to.

“Alright. Uhm, see you later.”

Bucky didn’t anticipate Rebecca waiting for him in the doorway of his room. She has a “I know everything” look, making him blush even though he did nothing wrong.

“How old is she?” She asks soon as Bucky closes the door.

“Who?”

“You know who, Bucky.” She jumps on his bed amused. “Your little crush.”

He puffs in response as if that’s a real answer.

“Come on, don’t be mad. It’s okay. Maybe she’ll realize she is into older guys.”

“Rebecca!”

“What?”

Bucky groans. “You are talking about our brother’s girlfriend.”

Rebecca’s eyes glow, and he has no idea what he’s just started.

“They haven’t been together long though. I doubt two people who live in different rooms-”

For some reason, he gets defensive immediately and interrupts her. “That is their choice and you should respect it.”

So it’s hers, Rebecca puts two and two together.

“You think he is that bad?” Rebecca changes the subject a bit to get more out of him, and Bucky realizes, but he can’t help but ask.

“What?”

“In bed. She seems angry all the time.”

She doesn’t remember the last time she saw her brother looking like this. This is more than a crush at this point. He’s annoyed, angry and livid, all at once.

“What? You never thought about it? Never heard them?”

“Can you go to your room now?” He snaps, trying to brush the images of you with William off his mind. It makes him sick to his stomach. “I don’t wanna talk about my little brother’s sex life!”

Rebecca laughs, walking to the door.

“You didn’t deny she’s your crush! And I didn’t even say her name, by the way.”

Shit... He didn’t even realize. Things are going too far, he needs to snap out of it.

“Your room, Rebecca.”

“Such a bad man, mid-life crisis hitting you two years...” She stops for a few seconds before she corrects herself with a wink. “One earlier.”

Bucky groans. “Rebecca!”

“She’s into you anyways, Buck. You’ll save him from dating or even marrying someone who doesn’t love him.”

Somehow, her words set him on fire and cool him at the same time. Rebecca is good at reading people, and he sensed something is off about you and William, too, but how can he hope... how can he think about kissing his brother’s girlfriend even after a break up?

“She was checking your ass on the stairs.” She adds with a smirk. “And it was not subtle.”

And then he’s left alone with his confusing thoughts and feelings.

Something’s wrong with him. He’s been completely —and obviously— avoiding you ever since he helped you with the luggage, and you wonder what you did wrong. As soon as you get inside any room he is in, he finds excuses to leave. Was your tone too rude earlier? You didn’t intend to get mad, but you couldn’t help it.

You know he is an adult, and he should be able to face you even if it bothers him, yet you can’t help but feel bad when you see him outside, in the cold.

You take the nearest blanket without thinking twice and open the door.

His head snaps in your direction, and you smile shyly, wrapping the blanket around his back.

“Don’t worry, I won’t bother you, I just came to give you this.”

His shoulders relax, and he reaches out to take your hand. “Thank you! You’re not bothering me at all. You can sit with me if you want.”

Neither of you has any idea where this came from. You thought he didn’t want to be around you, but how can you say no to this?

You sit on the chair next to him and smile when he covers you with the blanket.

“No, no. This is for you.”

“I’m not gonna let you catch a cold, love.” His voice sounds authoritative but not distant.

“Then let’s share.” You grab the end of the blanket and adjust it until you are both covered. “See? Perfect!”

After that, you’re quiet for a few seconds, trying to find the right thing to say or ask him.

“Are you alright?”

Bucky smiles. “I’m alright.”

“Well, you look alright.”

He blushes and laughs at the same time, making you giggle. He looks so adorable like this.

“Then why did you ask that?”

“To make you smile. You were quite tense.”

“When?” He tilts his head, and your shoulders touch under the blanket.

“Ever since we arrived, to be honest. Did I do anything to upset you?”

“No, love, you didn’t upset me.” He immediately assures you, but you’re not certain he’s being honest, and he senses it. “I mean it, I’m sorry if I gave you that impression and made you uncomfortable.”

It’s easy to notice when he is lying at least. He surely didn’t intend to make you feel bad, but he’s been avoiding you.

“Don’t worry about me.” You sigh. “You can just tell me next time, though. So I won’t be in your way.”

“What does that mean?” He can feel the panic rushing through his whole body.

“I mean, it’s your family, and they decided to have this random vacation. I could have stayed home.”

Not entirely true because you were asked to come along.

“Well, your family is here too, plus your boyfriend. But it’s irrelevant, anyway. I am sorry for ignoring you, I was just… consumed by my thoughts,” he says honestly, and you smile.

“It’s okay. It happens to me too.”

Especially when it comes to him.

“Why are you not with William?”

You try not to look disappointed as you answer. He has a point to ask you that. After all, William is your official boyfriend, and you two didn’t spend much time together. But you hate it anyway.

“You want me to leave, huh?”

You try to take off the blanket, but he doesn’t let you.

“No, no. Don’t go, I mean... I just expected you two to spend more time together.”

“Well, I wasn’t too keen on coming here. I have a lot of work to do on Monday, and I wanted to prepare some docs beforehand, but my parents forced me indirectly to...” Bucky snorts, amused for some reason, so you stop talking.

“You don’t like spending time with old people much, do you?”

Old people? Does he mean your parents?

“By old people you mean you?” You ask jokingly and turn to him just to see him smirking. The little beard he grew over the last few days makes him somehow even more gorgeous. He’s probably, truth be told, the most attractive man you’ve ever met.

“Yep. I’m turning thirty-nine after all.”

Holy fuck... The question is why you find this so sexy.

“That’s a very nice age,” you comment amused, playing with the edge of the blanket. “You make thirty-eight look very good.”

You don’t have to look at him to know he is smiling again. Good, he should know, and it’s not wrong to compliment someone.

“Thanks.”

You start to talk about random things shortly after: jobs, projects, random hobbies. He is shocked you enjoy origami, and you can’t believe he was in a band during high school. Well, you can imagine it, but it still surprises you. It’s comfortable and nice, but every time he calls you love, you feel yourself shivering more and more. And he senses it, immediately starting to brush your arms with his hands under the blanket.

“Maybe you should go inside.”

“No, no, I’m fine,” you protest, melting under his touch. It feels so good. “Can I ask you something?”

“I don’t know, can you?”

“Ha, funny!” You playfully roll your eyes. “Is it your parents’ anniversary or something?”

Bucky lets out a chuckle. “No, no special occasion for them. Why?”

“Saw a birthday cake...”

“It’s not for them.”

Fuck, is it William’s birthday? No way. Your parents would have told you… you wish you checked the calendar with everyone’s birthday before starting this conversation.

“Is it Rebecca’s?”

“Nope.

“Then...” You think for a little and when it hits you, you gasp. “Yours?”

“Yep.” He pauses, turning his head just enough so he can look into your eyes. “My daddification era is starting.”

Your immediate reaction is a burst of laughter as the lightheartedness of the moment caught you off guard, followed by a flush of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks. It feels like your face is on fire.

“But you’re not turning forty...” You mumble, your words barely audible. “I mean, I had no idea. I’m so, so sorry, it’s so embarrassing!”

“So no gift for me, huh?” He teases, utterly unfazed. He hadn’t expected anything at all, and seeing you blush so furiously is endearing. “I feel deeply hurt.”

Without thinking, you lightly slap his chest. “Shut up!”

“That’s not how you talk to your elders, ma’am.”

“Okay, dad,” you snort in response, but there’s a momentary pause from Bucky. He holds his breath, a flicker of different emotions crossing his face.

The knock on the door doesn’t wake him up, but it surprises him. He slowly drops his phone on the bed and puts on the nearest T-shirt before opening the door.

There’s no one there waiting, instead, he finds a tall cocktail glass made of paper with a note inside it. Confused, he carefully picks it up from the floor before getting back inside again.

If you don’t drink anything today, I’m gonna punish you... with my presence.

So think twice before refusing :)

Happy birthday, Mr. Barnes

What Bucky doesn’t expect when he gets downstairs in a great, great mood is to see you, Rebecca, and Cherry talking on the couch.

He freezes, shocked, but he doesn’t have time to recover before everyone starts to hug and wish him a happy birthday. Cherry kisses both of his cheeks and hands him a small gift, which he assumes it’s a watch based on the size.

“Surprise!”

Bucky smiles. “It’s actually a surprise, I really didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Becca said we should keep it a secret. When did I ever miss your birthday?”

He instantly looks in your direction, worried for some reason you might misunderstand this situation, but you don’t seem mad at all. And why would you? You are with his brother. You’re not his. Not even a little. Because if you were...

Rebecca smirks satisfied and hugs him too. “Happy birthday, grandpa!”

He hears you laugh, and before he can think twice about it, he sticks out his tongue playfully toward you.

“Keep it low with the flirting, will you? Your little brother is in the room,” Rebecca whispers, amused, in Bucky’s ear before letting you wish him a happy birthday.

You stop awkwardly in front of him, wondering if you should hug or kiss his cheeks.

He makes the decision for you, grabbing you by your waist and getting you closer. You open your arms and wrap them around his back, shocked, knowing how intimate the way he’s holding you might look. But you don’t care. You let yourself enjoy this as you rest your chin on top of his shoulder.

“Happy birthday, Mr. Barnes.”

“Thanks for the drink, love. The best gift I received.”

You hide your smile in his shirt.

“You haven’t even opened others yet.”

“I don’t have to.”

You bite your lip, breaking the hug before it gets too suspicious, and give him space so your mom can wish him a happy birthday.

Rebecca winks at you, which makes you even more confused, but you don’t think much about it, focusing on Bucky.

The breakfast goes well, with Bucky in the center of attention despite his obvious attempts to shift the focus to anyone else. Your parents decide to get some shopping done around lunch and get some food for all of you, so you don’t have to worry about much. William tries to do some affectionate gestures from time to time, but you ignore them as much as you can, without making it obvious. You still have to play your part.

Cherry seems like a nice girl. She’s Rebecca’s age and they met during university. They all have been friends for a couple of years, and it’s easy to see that by how comfortable they act around each other.

As they talk about some fancy place in Spain you’ve never been to, you scroll randomly on Instagram.

You decide to search Rebecca and Cherry up so you can follow them, and as you look at Rebecca’s photos, one post in particular catches your eye.

You can’t hold back your gasp, which immediately draws Bucky’s attention.

“You good?”

“Yes,” you answer absently and zoom in on the first pic. There are around ten people there, including Bucky, Rebecca, and Cherry. It’s clear they are all close, but you didn’t realize how close Bucky and Cherry are. They are sitting next to each other in almost every photo. In the second to last one, he is holding her by the waist in a very boyfriend way, which makes you close your eyes.

Of course they were a thing. Of course! And now she’s here... You feel close to crying and you don’t remember the last time you felt so stupid.

Why do you care so much? You are officially dating his brother and you’ve been just friends.

You close the app quickly and stand up, ignoring Bucky’s eyes on your back as you announce, for the sake of appearances, that you’re gonna take a nap.

You don’t let yourself tear up until you close the door.

What if they hook up again here? What if you’ll hear them?

Jesus, anything but that! You couldn’t bear it... You’d be sick for real.

You don’t go down for lunch. Your mom comes a few times to check on you, then William, then your mom again with lunch.

You feel hurt and annoyed with yourself. You can’t act like a kid all the time, so when Rebecca comes to check on you, you decide to go downstairs with her.

Bucky looks at you immediately, concerned and confused, but you don’t let your eyes linger too much on him, especially since he is sitting next to Cherry. You drop onto the couch, next to William, and he smiles.

“Feeling better?”

“Much!” You lie, but you do it well enough not to get questioned.

“So now that we’re all here, can we see the surprise, Buck?” Rebecca asks excitedly.

You watch Bucky get up without saying anything, and everyone stays quiet until he returns with a tray full of drinks. He keeps one to himself and takes another one that looks like a cherry mocktail while everyone else hurries up to take one of the drinks. Bucky heads toward you with a smile. “I guess I am not as rusty as I told you last night.”

You know exactly what he means: his first job was as a bartender. He shared stories with you about glasses he broke in the first month, but how he learned, yet it’s been years since he’s made a drink.

You can’t deny the drink looks tempting, especially with your penchant for cherries, but the mere thought of sipping it turns your stomach. “Thanks, but I can’t drink this.”

Bucky raises his eyebrows, the wrinkles on his forehead becoming more pronounced. “What’s wrong? Still feeling sick?”

“No, I just hate cherries. I can’t drink it,” you lie in a disgusted tone, keeping your eyes on the table.

“Do you want me to make you another one?” He asks immediately, surprised because he saw you eating cherries before. Why would you hate them all of a sudden?

Cherry herself is walking toward you with Rebecca, so in a moment of madness, you extend your hand. “Can I taste yours?”

Bucky nods, and you immediately take the glass from his hand and take a sip.

It tastes okay, but it’s not your favorite, for sure.

“Thanks, but I’m okay.”

“Is it bad? Should I-”

“I’m fine, enjoy your drinks, Bucky. It’s your birthday.” You try to sound as casual as possible. “Gonna get some wine.”

“Wine?” Your mom's surprise is evident in her voice. “Since when do you drink wine?”

“Special occasion. My brother-in-law,” You have to force the words out of your mouth without choking. “Is turning thirty-nine.”

You haven't even gotten tipsy until now, so the half glass of wine, combined with the lack of a proper lunch, makes you feel a bit dizzy. Rebecca immediately catches on and nudges Bucky, who’s been on the edge all night, to help you. William and your parents have already gone to their rooms.

You’re half asleep when you feel Bucky’s arms wrapping around your waist, causing you to open your eyes in shock.

“What are you doing? Let me down.” Your face makes contact with his chest as you speak.

“I’m taking you to bed.”

You snort immediately, letting him climb the stairs with you in his arms. “You can’t take me to bed, silly. Go back to your p-pretty... friend.”

“I’m carrying my pretty friend right now.”

“Smooth talker.” You sigh when he opens the door. “Not me.”

“Who do you mean then, love?” He helps you sit on the bed, and you instinctively reach for his hand, running your fingers along it. His skin feels remarkably soft and warm. You don’t remember the last time you found hands attractive. Or veins. At least, not like this…

Deep down, you know you never stood a chance anyway. Even if you weren’t officially with William, you’re far from Bucky’s type. Cherry, from what you've observed, is an amazing woman, and you can admit that he has great taste.

He probably sees you as too young for him, perhaps even as a little girl.

You scrunch your nose, and Bucky sits on the bed too since you won’t let go of his hand. He allows himself to enjoy this fleeting moment for a few seconds, aware that it won’t last. This won't hurt anyone, right?

“She’s so pretty and nice, I get it.”

“Get what, love? And who is pretty?” He lets you take his other hand too as he gently asks.

“Cherry.” You sigh, tapping his palms with yours lightly. “I guess she came here to win you back. And I understand. But like... you’d be wasted,” you complain, grabbing his face all of a sudden.

Bucky leans in instantly, closing his eyes.

“If something didn’t work once, why would it work now?” You stroke his beard gently, taking your time. “I mean, sometimes it does, but I can’t see it happening for you. You’re old,” you laugh, making him laugh too.

“I’m old?”

“Ihm, you are. The daddification era looks good on you.”

Bucky’s mind is racing now. From your touch to your words... he feels weak.

“Thank you, love. But how do you know about Cherry?”

“Saw some photos on Instagram this afternoon. You looked gorgeous and all over each other,” you bite your lip, unable to stop touching him. Even if he doesn’t belong to you...

“It wasn’t like that. It wasn’t serious, love.” He brings his hand to your face too, caressing your cheeks, which only makes you giggle.

“Hmm?”

“We’ve been friends for ages and we just had some... fun for a little while, but it wasn’t a relationship.”

You puff. “That is a form of relationship too! And maybe she wants you now.”

“I doubt that. But even if she did, I don’t want her like that, okay?”

“But she’s so pretty and funny,” you add, surprised.

“Many women are. But I told you, there is nothing like that.” His tone is serious, but you can’t understand.

“But you had sex with her,” you point out, visibly upset. You hate that even though it’s silly.

“O-kay, you need to get some sleep.”

You move your hand down to stroke his chin. “I’m serious, you’re...” You find yourself glancing down to his lap for a brief moment. Although you can't see anything, you just know it’s big. “A whole package. Don’t waste yourself.”

“You think I want Cherry?”

You don’t understand the surprise in his voice. Why wouldn’t he want her? If he wanted her once...

“You’re so confusing,” you murmur, and your eyes fall on his bottom lip the moment he licks it. It’d be nice to feel how soft it is. His mouth seems so soft and wet, and you bet he knows how to use his tongue. Ah... “You wanted to have sex with her, but you wouldn’t want anything with her now?”

Bucky smiles widely, surprised by your interest in his past. He knows it’s silly, especially since you are with William for some reason and he’s pushing forty, for fuck’s sake, but he can’t help himself.

“It was only for a summer.”

“Is this what you do with everyone?” He gasps when he feels the tips of your fingers on his lips as you speak.

“W-why?”

“Don’t waste yourself, okay, pretty boy? They don’t deserve you.”

Bucky literally chokes, completely taken aback.

“What?” He gently grabs your chin. “Who doesn’t deserve me? Cherry?”

“All of them.” You yawn, trying to keep your eyes open. “You deserve a better family.”

You’re so sad for him. They’re lying to him, and he’s so lonely.

Bucky’s confused but also touched by your words. You probably noticed how tense his relationship is with his parents, and you paying attention to that gets him emotional.

“We all do. But right now, you need to rest.”

“Don’t go to her tonight, okay?”

“Jesus, princess.” He strokes your cheek gently, and you giggle for a second.

“I’m not a princess. But please don’t do it. I can’t hear it…”

“Hear what?”

In response, you clap your hands together three times, mimicking the sound of skin slapping. “Please.”

“You mean sex?”

“Duh! At least...” You shake your head, trying to fight tears. You don’t want to cry. “Not tonight. I don’t want to hear it.”

Bucky sighs. He’s already told you he isn’t going to, but you mean sex now, and he wants to make that aspect clear too.

“I am not going to be with Cherry in any way, okay, princess? You won’t hear a thing because there isn’t a thing going on, alright?”

You nod happily and giggle. “Yes, sir.” You move your hand to your forehead, imitating a military gesture.

“Wow, such a good girl,” he snorts. “I expect this attitude from you tomorrow too, love.”

You roll your eyes, still in a good mood. “I’m sleepy, go away.”

“After you made demands about my sex life?” Bucky laughs. “Should I make demands about yours?”

“Go away!”

“Oh wait, there’s no sex li-” You hit him with the nearest pillow you find before he can finish his sentence.

“Augh! So aggressive.” He leaves the room still giggling.

You wake up in the morning feeling well-rested, without any headache or stomach ache. You can’t believe how embarrassing you acted toward Bucky. Like who are you to ask him not to sleep with someone? You wonder how he hasn’t told you to fuck off already.

He’s so kind, and here you are, lying to him, just like the rest of the family. Just like William. You’re deceiving him…

Even if he was into you after all, you lying to him like this would ruin any potential relationship before it even begins.

You need to stay away from him.

Packing doesn’t take as long as you anticipated. William helps you get your bag in the car, and your family makes sure to remind you to be a good girl as if you are a naughty kid being left with a new nanny.

As much as you avoided Bucky until then, you can’t help but stare at him as Cherry hugs him. Indeed, there is nothing but friendliness all over his face, and you wonder if this is how it’d be if you fucked him —in another universe. You’d still be his friend? You cannot understand this. Not even a little.

Unfortunately, you don’t notice Rebecca looking at you until it’s too late. As she hugs you goodbye, her words make you freeze.

“Take care of yourself, and please don’t play with both of my brothers’ hearts.”

The shame floods your entire body, overwhelming you. You rush to the bathroom to splash water on your face, attempting to hide the tears staining your cheeks.

You fucked up really badly.

Tags:

@charmedbysarge @identity2212 @vicmc624 @cjand10 @mayusenpai666 @abitofblues

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #boyfriend's brother!bucky #boyfriend's brother!bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #bucky fanfiction #my stories #my fanfics #sebastian stan #fake dating

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miniwheat77 · 6 months ago

Text

Slut. (Stepdad!Graves x Reader.)

!nsfw, smut, age gap (gap is up to you), slurs, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cheating, virginity loss, virgin!reader, NO MINORS!

“It’s only for a couple months. It’s not ideal for me but she’s really going through it.”

He sighs, crossing his arms as he looks at your mom. “What exactly is she going through? And you know I’ll never say no to that.” He laughs. Your mom sighs. “She broke up with her boyfriend and I guess he started spreading a rumor around their campus and the other college kids really started laying into her. So she’s just taking a break for a while and needs a place to stay.”

He nods his head. “That’s fine. It would be a lot easier if I had ever met the girl.” He laughs. “Yeah. You know how it is though. With her dad and us getting married like 6 months into knowing each other. She didn’t want to be around.” She sighs. “I get it.” He nods. “So when does she come around?” He asks. “She’ll be in tomorrow.”

Phillip nods his head, sipping on his coffee.

This was going to be eventful.

———

It’s about three in the afternoon the following day when your car rolls into the driveway and you’re not exactly what he’d expected. You knock at the door and you seem quiet and shy as your mom opens the door. When you step inside, he stands up and really takes in your appearance. You’re gorgeous but you don’t look anything like your mom which makes him think you take after your dad. He’s never met him, so he’ll never know.

Your eyes are soft yet piercing at the same time and your hair frames your face. You’re beautiful. He gives a smile and introduces himself, shaking your hand. “Hi. I’m Phillip, it’s nice to finally meet you.” You smile up at him, eyes avoiding eye contact.

Your mom shows you up to a spare room, and this is going to be his life now. Once she finishes showing you the room, you’re up there unpacking for a while.

“She.. is different.” Your mom opens up to Phillip later on in the night. They’re getting ready for bed. You’ve been in your room for a few hours now, it’s been nothing but silent.

“What do you mean?”

“She just.. she’s so quiet and coy now. And that was never like her before. When she went off to college I thought for sure she was going to be kicked out within the first week.” She sighs. “I’m sure she’s just growing up.” He shrugs. “No.. it’s definitely not that. Whatever those kids did to her there.. it really messed her up.” Your mom seems distraught.

“Look, I’m sure she’ll be fine. Give it a couple months and I’m sure she’ll be back to her normal self in no time.” He smiles.

———

You don’t spend much time around them. You spend hours and hours in your room or out of the house. They don’t pry too much because you’re an adult after all. It’s almost like you’re not even there. Which is ideal, he imagines. But it’s weird.

During your first week, your mom learns she has to go on a business trip for training a couple hours away, which makes Phillip nervous. She imagines it’ll be good time for the both of you to bond, asks him to take you out to dinner and try to get you to open up. He doesn’t know how to feel but says he’ll try. Although he doesn’t think he actually will. He doesn’t want to bother you.

When she leaves, he takes it as an opportunity.

He invites you down for dinner of course, and for a couple of days, you actually do join him. One of these times he chooses to corner you.

“So. What brought you home from college? Your mom said there was something about a boy.” He sees the way you tense up, and get worried. He shouldn’t have come on so strong. “I.. sorry. That was rude of me. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want, your mom is just really worried about you.” He mumbles.

You swallow hard and look down at the table in front of you. “Uh..” you hesitate. “Well. I had a boyfriend and some stuff happened. And when we first got together I was young and stupid and sent him pictures I shouldn’t have and when we broke up, he sent them around to people and they spread to most of the people at my college. So they were just..” you swallow hard. “Calling me names. Like a slut and whatever.” You breathe. “Didn’t your mom ever have that talk with you? To not send stuff like that around?” He asks. You look up at him. “No?”

He looks confused. “Really?”

“I.. don’t want to be that person, but my mom was never there for me.”

He’s confused. Your mom had made it seem like she was such an active part of your life, hearing this was foreign. “I had no idea. She made it sound like you two were really close.”

You shake your head. “No.. she struggled with alcohol so I lived with my dad. And he wasn’t always the greatest. So no.. nobody really taught me much. But I found out. Unfortunately it was the hard way.” You mumble. “I was reluctant to come here but.. I appreciate you giving me a place to stay Phillip. You seem like a good guy.” You smile, only locking eyes with him for a couple seconds before excusing yourself from the table. He wonders why your mom would lie about being a good mother.

It’s a couple days later when Phillip royally fucks up.

He’s got a couple friends over, he tells you about it before he invites them. You obviously say it’s his house he can do whatever he wants.

They’ve been over a few hours now, they’re watching football and drinking beer. Maybe he’d had a little too much to drink.

He goes to put some laundry away because he hears the dryer beeping that the clothes are done. He knows how pissed your mom will be if he forgets to do laundry while she’s out.

He’s passing by the kitchen to run the clean clothes into the living room, dropping articles of clothing as he walks. He sets them down on the couch to deal with later. He’s too drunk to care about it. He picks up the other clothes he dropped and throws them onto the pile, than sits down. He picks up his beer again, but one of his friends notices something on top of the pile of clothes.

He tucks his finger under the lacy panties, lifting it up. He moves it back and fourth. “This your wife’s?” He chuckles. Phillip laughs. “Nah, not a chance in hell.”

“Must belong to that sexy little step daughter of yours than, ah?”

Phillip scoffs, shaking his head. Groaning when his friend throws them on him.

“Y/N! Come here!” He yells. It startles you in your room and you stand up in a hurry, making your way down the stairs and into the living room. You’re worried it’s something serious but when you step into the living room, you freeze when all eyes are on you. “These belong to you?” He smirks. Raising up the pair of panties that must’ve gotten mixed up in your laundry. “Uh- y-yes.“ you hesitate. He tosses them at you. You catch them. “Maybe you should be more careful about where you’re leaving things like that, yeah? I mean I know people already call you a slut but you don’t want to start acting like one here too.” He smirks. Your heart falls right into your stomach and he can see the pain fill your doe eyes as you look back at him.

“Y-yes sir.” You swallow the lump in your throat. Turning away and rushing back up the stairs, hearing his friends laugh at you as you hurry away. Tears fill your eyes and you barely hold them back until the door is closed.

The moment it’s latched and locked, tears spill over your eyelids.

You were so stupid to get yourself into this situation.

———

Phillip wakes up on the couch, his head is pounding.

He’s still in his clothes from the day before and he groans out. His eyes glances over to the pile of unfolded laundry, his friends have all left. He sits up, trying to remember any of the events that happened the night before. Something feels off. He rubs his eyes, groaning as he stands up from the couch.

He stands up, starting to clean up the mess they’d made the day before. Walking into the kitchen to dig out an energy drink he’d left in there. Once he’s got all the trash, bottles, and dishes up. He makes his way to the pile of laundry. He starts to fold them, stacking them up and when his fingers glide over the lace hem of a tank top, he freezes.

His blood runs cold when the memories come flooding in all at once.

His friend picking up the panties, him calling you downstairs. What he had said to you. He drops the clothes and hurries up the stairs, he needed to apologize immediately.

He knocks at your door, but doesn’t get an answer. “Y/N?” He asks. He hopes you’re inside.

No reply. He tries the door handle and to his surprise, it opens up.

You’re not inside anywhere. But he sees your duffel bag is half packed again. He notices some of your items laid out on your bed, including your phone. Along with a ripped makeup bag. That must be where you went. To get a new one.

To continue to pack your things again.

So you could leave.

Phillip feels like the biggest prick in the world, why would he have even said that to you? What the hell was wrong with him?

He wonders why you’d left your phone.

He wanders in and picks it up, opening it up. He’s surprised when there’s no passcode on it. He opens it right up and he knows it’s not his place to be going through it, but he does.

He goes right to your messages, he wonders if you told your mom about what he had said. He doesn’t see her conversation for a few names down. The first messages he notices are from someone named Dylan. He remembers hearing about him before, thinking he must be your old boyfriend. He opens up the chat which makes him realize this was a mistake.

There’s about a hundred messages of him calling you names. All kinds of names under the sun, most of them being along the lines of a slut or whore. He sees the photos you had sent when you first met him in college. The photos make him sick, your face isn’t in them and they’re not entirely nude. That doesn’t change anything. He backs out of the conversation and sees many others from people you were going to college with. They’re harassing you nonstop and you even receive a few messages while he’s going through it. All slurs.

He goes to the conversation you’d had with your mom. And what he finds, he’s not too happy with.

He finds out that this has been going on for far longer than he thought, and that your mom had actually turned you down for the first few months. Saying that her and Phillip had no room for you and that you’d just have to tough it out, and before that. She had only messaged you maybe twice on your birthdays the few years previously. Other than that, nothing.

It makes Phillip realize the kind of mom she’d really been to you. And that you hadn’t made any of it up. That she really was an absent mom.

“What are you doing?”

You startle him. He quickly closes your phone, standing up from where he had sat on your bed. “I- I just-“ he takes a deep breath. “I came up here to see if you were here.” He starts. You cross your arms, avoiding his gaze. “Listen.. what I said last night Y/N. I was being a fucking idiot and I was just-“

“It’s fine.” You interrupt him. “It’s not fine. What I did was so fucked up, and I’m so sorry Y/N.” He sighs. “And.. this?” He holds up your phone. “It’s mine until further notice.”

“What?” Your eyes widen. “Listen to me.” He sighs. “What’s in this phone? Is a crime. And you and I are going to go on a road trip so that I can take care of this for you. Understand?”

“I don’t need you to do that.” You avoid his eyes. “Of course you don’t. But I’m going to. So please. If you’ll bring your bag with a change of clothes. We’re leaving in 15.” He sighs. Passing you to leave.

Your college was a few hours away.

When he comes back a few minutes later, your bag is packed. “Listen, Phillip. I’m going to go stay with a couple friends a few hours away. I don’t want to do any of this anymore-“

He shakes his head. “Listen sweetheart. I know you’re not mine, but I’m not letting this go. We’re taking care of this. Now come on.” He nods his head for you to follow him. You sigh. He grasps your duffel bag, carrying it down the stairs and out to his truck, making sure to lock the door behind the both of you. He doesn’t tell your mom where he’s going, to be honest he’s kind of pissed at her anyways.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because you don’t deserve this. And these fucking assholes that are sending you this shit deserve some repercussions for the way they’re acting.”

“You.. do realize you said exactly what they’re saying about me… right?”

The words sting a bit. “I don’t think that about you. I was just.. being stupid.” He sighs.

The entire car ride is mostly silent.

He’s the one who finally breaks the silence. “The photos. How old were you when you sent them to him?” He asks. You shrug. “I don’t know. Eighteen or something.”

“Did you have sex with him?”

You turn to look at him. “No!” Your eyes are wide. “So why’d you send the pictures?”

“Because he wouldn’t leave me alone.” You sigh. “I don’t understand why they’re calling you a slut if you literally sent your boyfriend photos. Personally.” He sighs. He picks up his energy drink from the cup holder and takes a drink.

“I’m just as stumped as you, cause I’ve never even had sex.” You mumble.

He presses the breaks a little too hard, sputtering on the drink. He coughs violently, seeing you look at him in surprise. “Are you serious?”

“What?”

“You’re a virgin?”

“Uh… yeah.” You mumble.

“Jesus H- ugh.” He growls.

“Y/N. I’m sorry sweetheart.” He sighs. “I feel so much worse now knowing that. I mean.. Jesus Christ.”

The rest of the drive is quiet, mostly him wiping the energy drink off of himself and his steering wheel.

You reach the campus after those 3 long hours and he pulls up. It’s the middle of the day.

As you approach the doors to the entrance, you’re getting so many stares. “Phillip…” you mumble. “I know. Just keep walking okay?” He mumbles, pulling you closer to him. He’s wearing his military attire, everything but the vest and head gear. It has his name and branch on the front. He’s official.

You sigh. He walks inside, walking right up to the front desk. You’re following close behind him. “Y/N. Back so soon?” She smiles. “Yeah, actually I was wondering who I would speak to about some issues she’s been having with some of the other students.” Phillip talks for you. “Oh.. uh. Right this way.” She smiles. She leads the both of you into the office of someone very important, you can tell by the sheer size of the office. You feel like a little girl following her dad in so he can scold the principal.

“Hi. Take a seat. How can I help you?” He smiles.

“Ah, so you’re the person I’m looking for.” Phillip smiles. “So.. to make a long story short, Y/N and her boyfriend split up and he got mad. So he leaked some photos that she had sent him, that’s not really my issue. I’ll pursue further legal action with him. But a couple of other students who don’t know Y/N managed to get her phone number and have been nonstop harassing her since it happened. I have her phone here.” He slides it over to him. “What.. uh. I’m sorry.” He pauses. “What do you want me to do exactly?”

“Y/N, sweetheart. Will you step out into the hallway for a moment please?” Phillip smiles. You nod your head, standing up and exiting through the door. You take a seat in the chair just outside the door.

“I don’t think we’ve met. My name is Phillip Graves. More specifically Commander Phillip Graves. And I really hope this meeting goes the correct way because if it doesn’t, there will be hell to pay. You have their names and phone numbers and I expect this to be taken care of before I sue the holy hell out of this place, and with my standing, I will not lose. Do I make myself clear?”

The man gulps on the other side of the table. Realizing the severity of the situation he’s in. “Y-yeah. Of course. I’ll get them taken care of, may I write down their names and phone numbers?”

“Of course. And before you deal with Dylan, I’d like to speak with him myself, thank you. It was nice meeting you.” He smiles, reaching his hand across his desk for a very firm handshake. Once he’s done taking down their numbers, Phillip exits the office. He smiles when he sees you and helps you up from your chair, leading you out. “Let’s go find a hotel room for the night, yeah?” He smiles.

He leads you back out the school. Walking as if he hasn’t just raised hell in there.

———

Phillip has your phone in hand. He’s sent Dylan a text. It’s wrong of course. How he’s pretending to be you.

Hey. Can we please meet up and talk?

Phillip is sitting about a block away from the bus stop, where he’d asked him to meet. He sees him approaching, once he reaches it, he sits down on the bench. He looks around for you, not seeing you. This is when Phillip goes in for the kill. He makes his way toward the bus stop, Dylan sees him and gets uneasy.

“You must be Dylan.”

“What is this?” He asks, standing up from the bench. He’s trying to look tough.

“I’m Phillip.” He smiles. “What’s going on?”

“I’m Y/N’s step dad.”

He scoffs. “What, the military freak? She sent you?” He turns just slightly to walk away. “She’s probably fucking you too huh? Slut.”

Phillip swings and hits Dylan with a right hook, sending him back. Before he can hit the ground, he steadies him by grabbing his shoulder and punching him in the stomach as hard as he can. He hears Dylan cough and sputter.

“I saw the messages you’ve sent her. Along with your little friends.” He yanks him up by the back of his collar.

“Now listen to me, yeah?” Phillip is seething. “You’re gonna leave Y/N alone. If I see even one message from you or any of your friends, I will bury you and your mom won’t even know where to begin looking. You better spread the word. You leave her alone or so help me god…” he breathes. He’s pissed. “Okay! Okay- please just let me go!” He breathes. Phillip takes one last swing and knocks him back. His back hitting the ground with a thud. He shakes the pain out of his fist. “I hope you remember this the next time you want to leak nude photos of someone.”

Phillip walks away. Leaving him there on the ground.

———

The following day, he gets the call that at least 7 students have been expelled entirely from the college. Including Dylan. An announcement being made about a zero tolerance for bullying and harassment. It’s going to save your college experience from there on out.

He’s got a hold of your phone for now, and you notice as he drives home that his knuckles are completely torn to shreds. It makes you think that maybe when he’d gone out to get ice the night before, that maybe he wasn’t really getting any ice.

You’re not sure what the feeling is in your gut. His tight white t-shirt and blue jeans. His split knuckles from what you hope was him beating the holy hell out of dylan and how you would’ve loved to have seen it for yourself. Your step dad pummeling him.

You can’t help but clench your thighs together. What were you thinking?

“You know.. I know you’re not mine. And I don’t have any kids. But if you ever need anything at all, don’t be afraid to ask. I don’t have all the answers but I grew up with sisters and I know some stuff.” He looks at you. You turn to look at him.

Your eyes shine under the sun. Your doe eyes looking up at him.

He gets a feeling in his gut that he can’t shake. He shouldn’t be feeling like this.

“Thank you, Phillip. But I’ll be alright. If I ever need anything, I’ll be sure to ask.” You smile.

He smiles. “I think I’ve learned my lesson.” You mumble. He sighs. “Hey. This wasn’t supposed to be a lesson. It’s not your fault that people are assholes.” You giggle. “Besides. Your mom is supposed to be there to help you with this kind’ve thing.” You shrug. “Yeah.. unfortunately I don’t have that.” You mumble. “She’ll always be the victim, you know?” You turn to look at him. “What do you mean?”

“No matter what story. Who was the aggressor, it doesn’t matter if she’s said the most unkind things in the world. She’ll always play the victim.” You rest your arm on the center console. He sighs. “Yeah. I’m realizing that.”

“Didn’t your mom ever tell you not to marry someone you just met?” You smirk. “Uh yeah. Actually she did. It’s not her fault I didn’t listen.” He laughs, nudging you with his elbow. You laugh. You liked Phillip. He was a good man.

When he’s not drinking anyways.

———

“It was nice of you to do that for her Phillip, but she’s a big girl. She can fight her own battles.”

They’re the first words out of your mom’s mouth, and it really gets under his skin. He didn’t tell her everything. Not about how he’d beat up Dylan or threatened to sue if actions weren’t taken.

“You know. When I went through her phone, I saw the messages between the both of you.” He pauses. Taking in a deep breath. “I have to say I was pretty shocked. I only saw a couple happy birthday messages. Not “how are you?” Not “when are you going to visit?” No “I miss you” nothing.” He looks at her. She pauses, turning to look at him. “What are you saying?”

“It’s just weird. You made yourself out to be this super supportive mom who was always there for her daughter. And you turned her down for months while this was going on. And for what? Nothing?”

She groans. “Phillip. Are we really going to do this? Sometimes I just don’t have the mental capacity to deal with Y/N. She’s an adult.”

He shakes his head. “You make it seem like she doesn’t handle her own issues. When to me, it seems like she’s been fighting her own battles her whole life. No thanks to you.”

When the words leave his mouth, she’s fuming. “You know, I knew this was going to happen when I told her she could stay here.” She growls. “What are you talking about?” He’s confused. “She ruins everything. She’s like a tornado, everywhere she goes she ruins everything.” He scoffs. “This isn’t her fault.” He shakes his head. “You’re ridiculous.” He mumbles. She starts gathering her items into a small bag. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to stay with a friend for tonight. I can’t deal with this.”

He laughs. “I’m starting to think you’re not who you say you are.”

Those words make her pause.

She looks up at him.

“I want a divorce.” She blurts the words out before she can even process them herself.

“You got it, honey.”

This only pisses her off further, she picks the bag up and leaves.

You’re coming up the stairs as she’s going down them, slamming right into her. “Oh- sorry mom!” You step to the side. “You should be sorry. You ruin everything.”

He hears this, going down the stairs. She rushes down them, you follow after her. “What? What’s going on?”

“You ruin everything. You’ve been here a week and you’ve already destroyed my marriage. If you weren’t a slut, we wouldn’t even be doing this!” Your eyes widen at her words. She slams the door behind herself. He groans. “Look.. she’s just mad alright? She doesn’t mean it.” He sighs. “What happened?”

“I just.. we got into a fight.” He sighs. “Everything will be fine by tomorrow alright? I’m gonna go after her.”

And just like that, you’re alone.

You sigh.

As much as you hated it, she was right.

You ruined absolutely everything you crossed paths with. You only met Phillip a week ago and things have already changed so much.

Every single person around you called you names. When you didn’t do anything to deserve it. You made your way up the stairs and gathered all of your belongings. Shoving everything into that same duffel bag, once again. You made sure you had all of it, tidying up the room. Neater than the way you found it. You made your way downstairs and out to your car, throwing the bag in the back seat and climbing into the front. You know there’s a lake across town, it’s dark and probably not the best idea, but you drive there anyways. You park in the parking lot and lock your car behind you, making your way out onto the dock. Sitting down and letting your feet dangle just above the water. You wish Phillip hadn’t taken your phone.

Phillip follows your mom, wondering where she’ll end up. He has a good feeling where she’s going isn’t going to be good.

He sees her pull into the driveway, a man coming out onto the front porch. Greeting her with a hug. He wonders who it is, until she leans in for a kiss.

He drives past, circling the block to get back to you. He can’t save his marriage but he can save his relationship with you. Step daughter or not, he cares about you. He sees your car is gone, rushing inside to see that all of your things are gone. He’s defeated. He would just have to look for you.

He leaves the house, making sure to lock the door behind himself. He would take care of everything later. He just needs to get to you.

He doesn’t know where to look. He doesn’t know if you’ll get a hotel, so he drives past a few. But doesn’t see your car. He’s about to give up when he passes by the sign, that the lake is only 10 miles out. It’s a shot in the dark, but he takes it anyways. Those 10 miles feel like hours, and when he sees your car in the parking lot, relief flows over him.

He parks next to your car, climbing out. He doesn’t see you inside. Wondering where you’ve gone, when he sees your shadow on the dock.

He makes his way out to you, slow. He doesn’t want to startle you.

“Shouldn’t be out this late.” He mumbles.

You don’t move. “Nowhere else in the world to go.” You sigh. He moves to sit next to you. “Why are you here?” You turn to him. “Well. You’re upset, and I care about you.”

“My mom was upset too.”

“Yeah well. She’s preoccupied. Getting comforted by another guy.” Your eyes widen.

“I’m sorry..” you breathe. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine.” He laughs.

“I should’ve never come here.”

He laughs. “I’m glad you did. Because you might’ve just saved me a lot of wasted time.” He smiles. “You know.. what she said to you..” he sighs. “It’s not true. You’re not a slut.” You look down at your hands. “I’ve heard it so much these last few months.” You laugh. “I swear, people just hate me. She’s right, I do ruin everything. I don’t know why. I try so hard to fit in and please people. But I always fall short. Sometimes I wonder if the world would be better off if I was dead.”

He shakes his head. “No. It wouldn’t,”

He swallows hard. “Honestly, I think you’d be so much better off if you just told people to fuck off every once in a while.”

You turn to look at him. “I’m serious. You can’t please everyone, if people can’t be nice to you, or like you for you, they can fuck off.” You can’t help but laugh. “You’re a good girl. You’re nice, you’re funny. You’re fucking stunning. I mean seriously, people are lucky to have you around and it’s not your fault that they choose to ignore it.”

“You’re so full of shit.” You laugh.

He laughs, shaking his head. “You gave no idea. That stupid boyfriend of yours really fucked up. He fucking fumbled a good girl. He doesn’t know it yet, but he’ll regret it.”

“Judging by your knuckles, I think he’ll regret it sooner than later.” You glance in his direction. He doesn’t see you very well but he can. He snorts. “Asshole had it coming.”

“I think you’re a good person, Phillip. I think that my mom didn’t know what she had.” You look up at him. “You might’ve implied I was a slut but at least you weren’t sober when you said it.” You look away. He sighs. “Yeah, I wish I could throw a punch at myself every once in a while.” He rolls his eyes. “It’s not true. I was being a prick.” He sighs.

You snort. "Of course it's true. Virgins can't be sluts." You laugh. He can feel crimson creeping up his cheeks at your comment.

He raises his feet up onto the dock, untying his shoes and sliding them off. Taking his socks off. “What are you doing?” You ask. “It’s hot tonight. Gonna test the water out.” He smirks. He tugs his shirt off, you can see how toned he is. With his job, he’s really fit. You turn away, swallowing hard. He slides into the water, a slight gasp leaving his lips. “You’re crazy.” You laugh. He takes in a sharp breath. "It's not bad. Get in." He smiles. "No way!" You shake your head. "Oh come on. It's no bad once you get used to it." He laughs. He's moving his hand back and fourth to keep himself afloat. You shake your head. "Is this even allowed?" You ask. "Course it is. People do it all the time." You shake your head. “Get in or I’m gonna splash you.” He smirks. “No!” You stand up, backing away from the edge of the dock. “Oh come on, I’m not actually gonna do it.” He laughs. He lowers himself down into the water, disappearing under the surface for a minute before coming back out. He shakes his now soaked hair. You can feel that same weird feeling building in your gut.

He makes you feel so weird, feelings you’ve never felt before.

“Don’t make me a loner sweetheart.” He pouts.

You roll your eyes reaching for your shoes. He laughs, “Atta girl.”

You swallow hard, trying not to go stiff at his words. Once you have your shoes off, you slide your foot into the water. He’ right, it’s not so bad. You slide in, when the water engulfs you, you let out a gasp. He laughs at you. “There we go! See? Not so bad.” He laughs.

“Uh.. Phillip?” You ask. Noticing headlights in the distance. They’re pulling into the parking lot. “Well. That’s not good.” He laughs. “What?” You look nervous. “I thought you said this was okay?” You ask. “Uhhh. Yeah. I lied. Come here!” He grasps your shirt, tugging you along. “Deep breath.” He goes under the water, pulling you underneath the dock, you can barely see through the cracks of them. You hear the tires of the car on the asphalt. He presses his fingers to his lips to silently shush you. You look him in the eyes, looking up at the dock. You hear a car door slam. “Are you sure it’s his truck?”

“Yes!” She shrieks. “And her car!” It’s your mom. How did they know you were here?”

“Look. Let’s just go alright? We’ll come back into town tomorrow and deal with it. The wood of the dock creaks above you. She’s walking out onto it. “Where are they?” She growls. “I saw his truck drive by when you got to my house earlier. He slowed down.”

“What?”

“Yeah. Maybe he knows. Thats why he came here.”

She sighs. “Whatever. I’ll deal with it tomorrow.” She growls. “Let’s go.”

They’re leaving town, that’s how she seen his truck. He notices something out of the corner of his eye, something falling into the water beside the dock. Something cloth. “Shit.” He hears the man mumble. He grasps hold of you, pulling you into him. Clamping a hand over your mouth to stop the gasp. He leans over the edge of the dock to grab it. Phillip takes a deep breath when he hears their footsteps leaving. Their car doors close and he hears them driving away.

“Shit.. that was close.” He laughs. He draws his hand away, moving away from you. He slides out from under the dock and you follow after him. “Can I ask you something?” You mumble. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Does losing your virginity hurt as bad as everyone says it does?” His eyes widen slightly at your question.

He clears his throat. “Uh.. well.” He swallows hard. “It hurts for women, it doesn’t hurt for guys. But… I think the experience is different depending on the person.” Phillip knows the bare minimum. “Some people tear and bleed and others just.. stretch and it’s just uncomfortable for a minute.” You nod your head. “What does it feel like?” You look up at him. Arms swaying back and forth in the water to keep yourself afloat. “It’s really good. I mean- after the first time for you obviously. It will feel better.” He mumbles. “But the way it feels is unmatched. I can’t even compare it to anything because it’s good.” He shrugs. “Have you not ever… tried for yourself?”

Your eyes widen, shaking your head. “No- no. I don’t even know where to begin.” You mumble. He laughs. “Well. Sex is better than anything you can do for yourself but it still feels good.”

You haven’t noticed, but he’s crept closer. The water pushes him into you slightly.

The tension is thick in the air, and Phillip doesn’t miss the way your eyes glow in the moonlight. That look in your eyes. You had it when he was driving you back from your campus.

“What’s got you so curious?” He moves even closer. “I don’t know.” You mumble. “Just.. with everything going on.” You laugh. Shaking your head. “You don’t have to be in a rush just because of what some assholes say to you.”

“Yeah- I know that. There’s just this one asshole who kind’ve changed my whole life around in like a week of knowing him.” He smirks. “Ohhh. It’s like that?” His smile is sly and it makes you roll your eyes. “Hey- Cmere.” He reaches out. His hand slides around your hip and you stiffen up. “No need to be nervous, wrap your legs are me. I’ll hold you up.” He draws you even closer and you don’t miss the way you rest on him. You wrap your legs around his back, the way your body presses up against his has you shivering. “Cold?”

You nod your head. “Little bit.” You mumble. “You know you’ve changed my life a lot too.” He laughs. “You made me realize what a mistake I’ve made.” You laugh. “Those weren’t my intentions.” You mumble. “No, but it was needed. And honestly because of you, I think it was worth it. Cause you’re a sweet girl.” He laughs. You look down. “Thank you.”

“I don’t know why people don’t see what I see.” He mumbles. “What do you mean?”

“Just.. everyone is so mean to you. I just don’t get it because you’re so sweet.” He mumbles. You stare at him, eyes burning into his.

He’s right. Everyone is mean to you. Your own mom is worse than anyone else.

And that’s why you’re here with her husband and she’s off with some other guy. She doesn’t deserve Phillip. And the way he’s looking at you, maybe it’s time you were selfish.

You run your tongue over your bottom lip. You can feel him getting hard from where your center meets his. You lower your hand, sliding it between the both of you, gliding up the expanse of his erection and he gulps. “I- I’m sorry. I didn’t-“

You cut him off by pressing your lips to his, feeling him groan into your lips as you press your hand into him. His jeans are wet and they stick to him. Hugging him. “Shit-“ he hisses. His teeth are gritted as you rub your hand over him, palming him. “This isn’t a good idea.” He breathes. “No, it’s a horrible idea.” You breathe. He tugs you closer, your center pressing up against his hard cock. He can feel you melt into him. Shit, you’re into this.

You hold onto him tight, grinding your hips up into him. Whining out at the friction you feel against your nub. It’s minimal but it’s enough to drive you crazy.

He kisses you again.

He’s got a hand on the back of your neck, you can hear the water moving.

He’s moving you to shore.

It’s tough to walk out of the water, his legs feel like jello. He doesn’t even get you all the way to shore before he’s laying you down on the gravel shore. You don’t care how dirty you’ll be. Or how the rocks dig into you. His lips seem to be the only warm thing about him. His hands are cold as they pin your wrists above your head. He hovers over you, kissing you like he’s never kissed a woman before. He’s animalistic almost.

“Phillip-“ you pant. “Yeah?”

“I want you to fuck me.” You mewl, eyes nearly glowing as you look up at him. “But… you’re a-“

“I don’t care.” You breathe. “Are you sure?” He’s breathless too.

You nod your head and he’s so blinded by the lust that he feels for you, he doesn’t need your reassurance. It’s a struggle to get his cock through the zipper on his jeans. They’re sticking to him because they’re so wet. His cock is rock hard, blushing red even though neither of you can see it. You could feel him through his jeans earlier, he’s definitely going to hurt you. But you want him to.

You’re thankful you had shorts on, he pulls them to the side with ease. Spit isn’t lube but it’s all he’s got. And he’s not going to miss this opportunity. You’re here, and you’re ready for him. The moon is disappearing and the sun is starting to rise. It’s that late?

He sits up on his knees, spitting between the both of you. The glob of his saliva makes you jump, it’s warm on your opening. He uses the tip of his cock to slick up your entrance. Pressing the tip between your folds. You gasp, sitting up slightly. “S’alright darling.” He leans back slightly. “You wanna watch?” He breathes. He’s turned on, a different side of Phillip you hadn’t seen before, obviously. His heart thumps in his chest and his eyes are glossed over. Lips and cheeks blushing a shade of pink. Somehow you can still see it. The glare of the remaining moonlight off of the water seems to help. You can’t see well but can see his cock sliding into you.

You wince as he slides further into you, watching him disappear. You gasp as he bottoms out, his thighs press against yours and he’s resting his hands on them. “Shit. You’re doing so good. You’re taking me so well.” He breathes. He slides back, thrusting back in. You hiss, jumping slightly. “It’s okay. I know you’re hurting but you’re doing so good.” He pushes your thighs further apart. He starts slow, hips moving slow into you. Letting you get used to him stretching you out. He picks up the pace as you get used to him. Pretty soon, you’re panting as he fucks into you.

When you’re used to him, you wiggle your hips lower and raise your thighs up, holding them. You wrap your arms under the bends of your knees and give him complete access to your pussy. It’s sexy, and he moves closer, raising himself up and fucking into you at a much faster pace. He can feel your walls throbbing around him and you’re letting out small sounds. It worries him for a second but than you let out a gasp as he adjusts, and just like that’s he’s found it. That sweet spot.

He’ll have you falling apart in no time.

He grits his teeth, stopping to readjust and line himself back up with that spot inside of you. When he finds it again, he fucks you hard. Snapping your hips into yours, cock pressing right up against that spot.

It’s wet from your clothes and the squelch from him sliding into your wet hole is loud. You’re getting louder, moans uncontrollable as he ruins you. Abusing the sweet spot inside of you. You’re tight around him, dragging an orgasm out of him faster than ever before. This is by far the best sex Phillip has ever had. But as the sun rises, he knows there will be other people showing up for a day on the lake. “Phillip!” You gasp. Your thighs shake and your bottom lip quivers. “I know baby- I know it’s a lot. Just relax.” He breathes. He looks down at you, water dripping from his nose and the tips of his hair as he looks down at you. You shake as he keeps hitting that spot, right on. Over and over. You’re not going to last.

You cry out when you cum, and he doesn’t even stop you. Doesn’t quiet you or hush you. He lets you cry for him, nearly sobbing as your high washes over you. The cold water splashing over your feet is what brings you back down, tears spilling from your eyes. He overstimulates you as he keeps going. Harder than before as he uses you to cum. He’s nearly growling, his grip on you is tight and bruising and he can’t keep it together, eyes rolling back as he cums. Your eyes widen, he’s not wearing a condom and he doesn’t pull out. His warm cum fills you up, and he fucks you through his high before he halts his thrusts.

“Fuck- fuck.” He sighs. His chest rises and falls, heart pounding in his chest. His cock is sensitive and pulsing from his orgasm. “Sorry- I got too into it.” He breathes. “It’s okay.” You sigh.

“I got too carried away. You okay?” He asks. You nod your head. “I feel like such an asshole.” He laughs, he tucks himself away, adjusting your shorts for you. “I should’ve checked more. Did I hurt you?” He helps you up. “No- no I’m okay.” You laugh. Your legs are shaky as you stand there and he feels bad. This probably isn’t how you wanted to lose your virginity. “Hey. Meet me back at the house okay? Let me take care of you.” He breathes. You nod your head. Trying to hide your gasp when you feel his warmth spilling out between your thighs.

“I’ll run and get you something for that too..” he sighs. “I can do that before we meet back at the house, I have clothes inside my car.” You mumble. “You sure?” You nod your head. You make the awkward walk back to your cars. You get inside and he closes your door for you, moving toward his truck. You tell him when he leaves you’ll change your clothes really quickly in the back seat. He nods his head. “I’ll have the shower ready for you. You’re freezing.” He laughs. You smile.

He gets inside his truck and pulls out of the parking lot, and when his truck is gone, you hurry to change your clothes. When you have dry clothes on, you hesitate.

You think about not getting anything.

If you were such a slut, maybe you shouldn’t. Your mom thinks you’re so bad. Maybe you should get knocked up by her husband and see how she feels.

You shake your head. You shouldn’t.

You throw the car into drive, biting back a smirk as you feel his slick between your thighs still. You can’t help but stare at the shoreline where you’d lost your virginity as you pull out of the parking lot. Your head is buzzing, skin seeming hot where he’d touched you.

You’d have to decide on your way home. Should you stop at a store or not?

#call of duty mw2 #cod mw2 #mw2 smut #graves x y/n #graves smut #graves cod #phillip graves #graves x reader #cod mw3

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