#but this time where he says be kind to yourself you should trust | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tokkiwrites · 2 months ago

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Hi happy holidays! Can you please do a Sergei kravinoff smut x innocent female virgin reader “babe in the woods” trope. Sergei is immediately fixated on reader and wants her to be his grude & mother of his children. He immediately marries and later takes her virginity. He hopes to impregnate her from their first time together. Ty!

thank you for this request, anon! and sorry it took so long to post. I've had it written, but it just took a while for me to get the smut part going. i hope you like it!

Sergei Kravinoff × F!Reader ♰ themes of stalking, obsessive Sergei, kidnapping, Kraven is a weirdo and needs to be locked up, i would say innocent reader but more so an unbothered reader kind of, she is just confused, forced marriage, themes of Stockholm syndrome, loss of virginity, fingering (reader receiving), afab reader, unprotected p in v, Sergei wants to get the reader pregnant.

The woods were quiet, save for the whisper of wind threading through the branches above. You loved this time of day when the sun filtered gold and green through the canopy, casting dappled patterns on the earth. It was your sanctuary, far from the clamor of town and the heavy, watchful eyes of others. Here, no one could accuse you of being strange, or sheltered, or too naive. You simply were.

The faint crack of a branch made you stop mid-step, your basket of wildflowers swinging lightly at your hip. “Hello?” You called, voice soft, hesitant. The forest had always been safe— or so it felt. until now, you had never had the need to question it.

He emerged from the shadows, and your breath caught. The man was massive. A towering figure, his broad shoulders draped in animal pelts and his chest bare save for the crisscrossing scars that marked him as something primal, dangerous. His face was angular, carved from stone, with piercing eyes that pinned you where you stood.

Sergei Kravinoff. The name would mean nothing to you, but to others, it struck fear—a hunter of men and beasts, a predator who bent the wilderness to his will. He did not speak at first. He only looked at you, as if you were some rare, delicate creature he had stumbled upon. The longer his eyes lingered, the hotter your cheeks burned.

“Who are you?” you asked, clutching the basket to your chest. His lips curved into a smile, though there was nothing warm in it. “I am Sergei,” he said, his voice low, thick with an accent you couldn’t place. “And you" he paused for a bit. " Should not wander alone in places like this. The world is not kind to lambs.” You blinked at him, confused. “Lambs?”

“You,” he clarified, taking a step closer. His sheer presence seemed to draw the air from your lungs. “Soft. Untouched. So trusting.” You took an instinctive step back, and his smile widened, as if he enjoyed your unease. “I—I’ve never seen you here before. Are you lost?”

“No,” he said simply, his eyes roaming over you with an intensity that made your skin prickle. “But perhaps I have found something worth staying for.”

It reeked of dangerㅡ death. yet you still came back.

Over the next week, you saw him again and again. Always in the woods, always watching. At first, you told yourself it was a coincidence. this strange man simply shared your love for the forest. But his presence became impossible to ignore. He never tried to speak much, yet his eyes seemed to devour you every time, as though he were committing every detail of your face to memory. You should have been afraid. You should have stopped going to the woods entirely. But something about him fascinated you. He was so unlike the boys in town, who stammered and avoided your gaze, intimidated by your quietness. Sergei was bold, unflinching. He seemed to look right through you, to the parts of yourself you didn’t even understand.

you little lamb.

“Why do you keep following me?” He tilted his head, his gaze softening though not entirely. “Because you are mine.” The bluntness of his words made your breath hitch. “I don’t even know you.”

“You will,” he said, stepping closer. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, and though you should have flinched away, you didn’t. His touch was surprisingly gentle, reverent even, even if his rough fingers scratched your skin. “I have decided. You will be my bride.”

“Bride?” You echoed the word foreign and strange on your tongue. “But we’ve only just—” you laughed. surely it must be a joke. “You are meant for me, little lamb” he interrupted, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument. “I have hunted all my life, little one. I know when I have found my prize.” Suddenly, the world went dark.

maybe it was all just a bad and confusing dream. though his touch still lingered.

You woke in the morning to find yourself not in your small, familiar room. outside the window that overlooked the bed you were in, the forest. The air smelled of pine and smoke, and outside, the trees loomed tall and unyielding. Panic gripped you as you sat up, heart racing. “Where—” The door creaked open, and there he was, filling the frame with his imposing presence. “You are awake,” Sergei said, his tone calm, almost pleasedㅡ excited. He carried a tray with food: fresh berries, bread, and cheese. “Eat. Now."

“Where am I?” you demanded, your voice trembling. “Why did you—” He set the tray down, cutting you off with a look. “You are safe. That is all you need to know.”

“I am not! This isn’t right,” you said, tears pricking at your eyes. “You can’t just—”

“I can,” he said sharply, though his expression softened as he stepped closer. “I have waited long enough. You do not understand, but you will. I will take care of you. Protect you. You will want for nothing, my little one.”

You shook your head, backing away from him, but he caught your wrist with startling ease. His touch was firm, yet not cruel. “Do not fear me,” he murmured, his voice dropping to something almost tender. “I would never hurt you. You are too precious.”

Sergei did not wait long to make you his.

The days in the cabin blurred together, each one steeped in an odd rhythm. Sergei’s presence was constant, protective, and overwhelming. He would watch you eat, his sharp eyes softening whenever you complied. He brought you small gifts: wildflowers, trinkets carved from wood, pelts to keep you warm. He never let you wander far, always ensuring you were within sight. And though he never forced his touch upon you, you could feel the tension thrumming beneath the surface, like a predator waiting for the right moment to pounce.

In the evening, as the fire crackled and cast flickering shadows on the walls, Sergei sat across from you. He leaned forward, large hands resting on his knees. “It is time,” he said, his voice calm but unyielding. “Time?” you echoed, your throat dry. “For us to marry.” You stared at him, heart pounding. “I… I can’t. I don’t even know what you want from me. I—I never— You kidnapped me!”

“You were made for this,” he said, cutting you off. his eyes were setting you a-light, it made your skin prickle. “You think I do not see it? Your purity. Your innocence. You were meant to be a wife. My wife.” Tears burned in your eyes, but you blinked them away. “But I’m not— I need to marry someone I love!"

“You are ready,” he insisted, his tone softening only slightly. “I have waited long enough. It will be done."

And it was.

The ceremony was simple, ritualistic. Sergei had prepared everything. rings made from woven silver, a bearskin cloak to drape over your shoulders as a symbol of protection. There was no priest, no people, only the two of you and the forest as your witness. He spoke vows in a language you did not understand, his voice deep and reverent, as though he were offering you up to some ancient force. When it was your turn, your voice faltered, but under his watchful gaze, you repeated the words he taught you.

“You are mine,” he said at the end, taking your face in his hands. His eyes burned with possessive fire. “And I am yours.”

but every wolf gets hungry eventually.

When night fell, you found yourself sitting on the edge of the bed, your hands clutching the thick wool blanket. Sergei entered the room, his movements slow and deliberate. He had shed his usual pelts, his bare chest glowing in the firelight.

“You are trembling,” he said, his voice softer than you had ever heard it. He knelt in front of you, his massive frame now not so intimidating. “Are you afraid of me?” You couldn’t meet his eyes. "I don’t know... what you expect from me? What you w-want...”

“I expect you to trust me,” he said simply, his hand brushing against your cheek. “You are my wife now. It is my duty to show you what that means.” Your breath stopped as he leaned closer, his lips ghosting over your forehead. “I will not hurt you,” he murmured, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. “But you are mine, little lamb. Every part of you.”

His lips met yours— soft at first, testing, as though he feared you might shatter like porcelain. But when you didn’t pull away, his kiss deepened, a low growl rumbling in his chest. His hands cradled your face, his touch reverent, almost worshipful.

“I have waited for this,” he said against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “Waited to claim what is mine.” You didn’t resist as he laid you down, his hands tracing over your trembling form. He was patient, guiding you gently, his touch surprisingly tender for someone so fierce. But his intent was clear.

oh, little lamb.

rugged hands make their way up and around your hips as his bearded face stays flush against your tender neck. he was ready to devour you. Sergei looked up into your eyes and for the first time you've seen him smile. and as if all of the things you felt caused you fears melted away, so did you into his embrace.

his lips meet yours, and it all finally made sense. you could feel the hunger, the will in him to give his all right here, right now. you wrapped around him like vines on a tree, his low growl of approval making you clench around nothing. it all felt so new, yet familiar, as if somehow, this wasn't the first time. the forest outside sung as your quiet moans filled the cabin. Sergei discards all of your clothes with ease, leaving you in nothing as you stayed splayed on the bed. the fur coverings under, pooled around your body, the moonlight dripped on you like dew in spring and you looked like a precious painting.

with no time to wait, sergei quickly gets naked. it wasn't the first time you saw him like this, but it was the first time you saw it. to say all that fear bubbled up into your stomach was an understatement. you gulped down as your glossy eyes looked at him up and down. "Spread your legs for me." it wasn’t a request, it was an order. and you obey. spreading your legs you give him a full view of you dripping cunt, and sergei throws his head back with a low groan. you finally speak up. "IㅡI am a...a virgin." it all seemed so silly to say now. "I know." he smiles in the corner of his mouth. "Smelled it on you the first time we met." and you whimper. "I will get you ready now." somehow, you knew what it meant. He kneels in front of you on the bed, pulling you so that you thighs are right over his, your puffy lips on full display. two of his digits make their way up to your mouth. "Suck." you comply.

after that was done, his calloused fingers make their way between your folds, gathering up the juices you've been dripping. You whimpered softly and Sergei shushed you, rubbing small circles on your plushy thigh with his other hand. He pushes one of his fingers inside, and you can feel it. It didn’t hurt, not yet, it was just strange and new. the second finger comes quick after and he starts pumping them, swirling them around as his lips made contact with your swollen bud. Your eyes jot open as this feeling washes over you, and you can't help but let your legs shake uncontrollably. The fire wave envelopes you whole before it comes to an agonizing stop. You open your eyes again and above you is Sergei, his shaft in his hand as he aligns it with your asking entrance. "If it hurts...yell. Scream as much as you want. Hurt me back. I am here to teach you."

and teach you he does. he pushes in slowly and the stretch is agonizing, the pain making all of your muscles tense. "It's alright, I'm here, little girl." you let out a sigh, the tears slipping past your lids when you open your eyes. the moon engulfed Sergei in It's beautiful light, his silhouette looking as if it was carved out perfectly. a couple of inches, then some more, and some moreㅡ until he is fully inside. you bite down on your tongue, but Sergei preps soft kisses along your jaw and you seem to forget about the pain. "You're doing so, so good. So good for me." he hums, taking in a big breath of your smell before he snaps his hips slowly. In a few seconds, the burn turned into a delicious feeling you couldn’t quite describe. And though it felt so new, your body fell in place right into Sergei’s touch, as if it were meant to be.

When he finally started to move faster, his groan was one of triumph, a sound that you know will echo in your ears long after. “You will give me childrenㅡ" he said, voice low and ragged as he moved inside of you. “Strong sons and daughters. Our legacy will begin tonight.”

your legs quiver around him, but he leaves no room for mercy. Above you, he looked just as a predator ready to swallow his pray whole. you weren't one to fight back, and you really didn't want to. you back stayed arched against the coverings of the bed, fingers clawing at his broad shoulders as he pumped into you. your tummy was churning, and your head was dizzyㅡ you were far gone, too drunk on the way he perfectly hit that spot with each thrust. "You were made for me, made to take meㅡ fuck, you are so beautiful." you whimper, feeling that fire wave starting to take over again. your velvet walls squeeze around him, causing him to growl. Sergei leans forward, propping one of your legs above his shoulder, the angle making you gasp for air. you look up at him, eyes glossy with tears. An animal. His eyes grew darker, lips crooked in a smile before he delivered his final blow.

you come undone right under his fingertips, writhing and shaking as small pleads fall from your lips. You can feel his seed deep within you, threatening to slip out around his cock that was still inside of you, pulsing. "Good girl."

he prays it sticks.

Sergei’s obsession with you only deepened��he barely let you out of his sight, his touch lingering whenever he could. Yet there was a softness in him, a desire to make you happy, even as he bent you to his will.

He began teaching you small things. how to tend the fire, how to skin an animal, how to defend yourself should a predator come. But you were never allowed to go far. “Why can’t I leave?” you asked one afternoon, your frustration bubbling over. Sergei turned to you, his eyes darkening. “Because the world is cruel, little one. It will devour you. You are too soft, too trusting. Here, you are safe.”

“Safe,” you repeated bitterly. His jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought he might lash out. But instead, he cupped your face in his hands, his gaze softening. “I would rather you hate me than lose you.” you were beginning to see the truth of it. his love for you was consumin and obsessive, but it was real. He worshipped you, protected you, but at the cost of your freedom. And yet, part of you began to adapt. To find comfort in his arms, in the way he looked at you as though you were the only thing that mattered.

Perhaps you were.

#aaron taylor johnson #aaron taylor johnson characters #aaron taylor johnson x you #aaron taylor johnson x reader #aaron taylor johnson smut #sergei kravinoff #kraven the hunter x reader #kraven smut #kraven the hunter #kraven x reader #kraven x you

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luveline · 1 month ago

Text

𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭

part one | chapter list

You find yourself drawn into Remus’ life after an awful night you can’t remember. He does his best to hold onto you. [10k]

cw: heavy themes, implied sexual assault of the reader [with no graphic scenes but it’s a continuous theme, so please be careful when reading], pregnancy, eventual friends to lovers, friendships, hurt/comfort, james makes a lot of soup, found family

𖦹

The pharmacy on Wilmand Street is always deathly quiet. The boy behind the counter reads and occasionally picks up the phone to put it back down, his hair in his eyes, a waxiness to his pale skin that never fails to perturb.

Your shoes creak over the hardwood floor. He’s noticed your entry, signalled by a golden bell above the door and your muffled panting, but he hasn’t looked up.

Your eyes slide past pads, nighttime, ultra-long panty liners, searching with a poorly restrained desperation for something in particular.

The phone rings —dark-haired boy picks it up and puts it back down again as you recalled, silencing the ring. You watch him from over your shoulder and he looks up from his book to stare.

“Pregnancy tests?” you ask.

His expression doesn’t change as he pulls a drawer open behind the desk with a metallic clink. “What kind?”

“The most reliable. Please.”

He gives a nod, black curl bobbing under his chin. He grabs a blue card box and places it on the counter. “Sixteen fifty.”

You open your purse before you’ve reached him, extracting the change exactly and tipping it next to his book. “Thank you.”

“Are you alright?”

Your heart squeezes in your chest like a tightening fist. “Why?”

“I have to ask. I’m a mandated reporter.”

“I’m not a child.”

He levels your look with his own. “You don’t have to answer. I’m only asking because you look upset. Are you alright?”

You don’t think you’ve ever heard him say more than three words at a time. His voice is reminiscent of someone else’s, half-remembered. You want to ask him, then. The questions you’ve had since it happened. Why does it hurt so badly, still? But the boy, while seemingly well-intentioned, isn’t one you trust to care nor keep it to himself.

“Fine,” you reply, pressing the blue-boxed test into your pocket, pulling the hood of your coat up to brace against the December rain. You’re fine.

The door opens before you can get to it, another lovely dark-haired boy letting himself inside. His stare is blank as the one at the desk’s is, but you smile on instinct and he smiles back warmly after a moment, holding the door for you to leave.

“Okay, Reg?” you hear him ask as you pass.

“Close the door,” Reg says. “You’re letting in the cold.”

—

It’s even colder the next time you go. You throw on another hoodie and wrap a scarf tightly around your neck, face ducked, nose tickled by flyaway fibres. The walk to Wilmand Street takes seventeen long minutes where your hands hurt, then shake, chapped by hateful winds.

The pharmacy’s newspapered window comes into view. A poster for the local pub leaks ink on the outside, wet by the rain, its font blooming like fungus across purple paper. Live music event: December 31st.

The dark-haired boy —Reg?— is behind the counter again. The first one. Are you alright? boy. He looks twenty so or near that, but there’s something wilfully young about the skin under his eyes, despite a more haggard pinch to his brow. You were hoping it would be the second one, or the sandy-haired boy who mans the till in the very early mornings. He has a more natural smile than the other two. Perhaps not more authentic, but quicker to perk up when you slink in for whatever before work, Mondays and Fridays if he’s there.

Reg doesn’t lift his head. You push yourself toward the back of the pharmacy. It’s a small shop slotted between two others, one wall touched from the next in thirty seconds should you walk it. It makes pretending you’re there for other things useless and embarrassing, but you do it anyway. Another test won’t change what you wanted the test to say, but you can’t take one single test and trust it was right.

“Reliable?” Reg asks when you finally approach.

“Yeah. And the five strip box, too, if you have it.”

Reg takes them from the drawer and adds their prices seemingly in his head. “Eighteen eighty-nine.”

You pass him a twenty pound note and wait for your change, not bothered that he counts it slowly, or that he puts it down flat on the counter away from your outstretched hand. “Thanks,” you murmur.

He noticeably bites his tongue.

“I want to be sure, is all,” you say.

“If you go to the doctor’s, they do it for free. And it has a ninety nine percent rate of accuracy.”

You hold the tests to your stomach. “I’m not… really sure what I’d want them to tell me, right now.”

“They’d tell you the truth, at least.” Reg seems to decide this line of conversation isn’t one he wants to continue, and he lets his mouth flatten into a thin, white line. You get the sense though that he isn’t done talking, and are rewarded for your patience with an inkling of an almost-smile. “Please know that I’m bound by duty of care while I work here, so if you are concerned about something, I can listen and offer advice. And if you don’t want to tell me private information, my uncle is the acting pharmacist, and he is more strictly bound by patient confidentiality law.” He looks you in the eye. “You’re only as alone as you allow yourself to be.”

“Who says that?” you ask, poked by the way he lays it out.

Reg doesn’t like your question and doesn’t answer. He picks up his book, murmuring, “I hope they give you the result you want.”

A different dark-haired boy is standing outside of the pharmacy when you leave. With a nice nose, eyes like a puppy, he’s handsome but hidden behind black frames. He stands from his car where he’d been leaning when the door swings out, sits back again when he realises you’re not who he’s looking for. “Sorry, lovely,” he says, pulling at a loosely-knotted tie. “I thought you were someone else.”

“Sorry,” you say back, holding the tests to your chest.

Your hand covers the boxes. His eyes flicker down to them regardless. You wait for disdain or embarrassment but see neither. Really, the only thing this new boy wears is pleasantness.

“Don’t stay out too long, will you?” he asks, smiling genially, “You’ll freeze.”

“I’m–” You clear your throat, caught off guard to have a stranger care about you so openly. No reluctance to his well wishes, and no strings. “Sorry– I’m going home now. I won’t stay out.”

“Good, shortcake. Have a good night.”

You should say you too. The wind chases you back to your flat, where you head for the bathroom, and, despite living alone, lock the door.

—

You take your pregnancy test and sit on the floor, too weak-legged to stand at the sink, waiting for two pink lines.

Sure enough. Control, result. One solid pink line, and one much lighter. It doesn’t matter —a positive is a positive, no matter how weak. The strip tests say the same thing.

In TV and movies, people always paint the test as the ultimate moment. As though the result is the result, and that everything after is fixed, but the result now is only a signifier for another decision to be made: will you keep your baby, or foetus? Do you feel as though it is a baby, or a foetus, or both? Is it welcome, or a foreign object? There is no right or wrong answer, only how you feel.

The migraine you get then is debilitating. Like toothache in every tooth, pain behind your eyes half-psychosomatic, half physiological stress. You’re not sure how long you’re in the bathroom holding your forehead, but it’s dark when you manage to stand again, and the tests have only gotten more obviously positive. You throw them all in the bin.

—

The third day you go back to Wilmand Street pharmacy, the desk is manned by your unfamiliar, smiling boy. He looks up when the door opens, his eyes browned honey set in a face that recently saw the sun, but not too much of it. Kissed by it. His cheeks are pinked. He must be the first person who’s worked here to bother turning on the heating.

“Morning,” he says.

“Morning,” you say back. Voice croaky, you remember to be polite. “You okay?”

“I’m great, lovely, thank you. How are you?” He gives a nod toward the street. “It’s so cold out, are you gonna be warm enough in your jumper?”

You find yourself struck as you were the day before, so startled by genuine kindness that you can hardly work your mouth. “I’m okay. I’m going right back home after this.”

“Aw, good.”

You nod. What are you here for today? Not another test. You aren’t stupid enough to believe a third round will give you a different verdict, but you‘d felt an urgent need to move.

You grab a rounded basket from near the door and make your way to the haircare. There’s a handful of shampoos to choose from. You take the usual. Beneath them are baby shampoos and soaps. On a whim you pick one up, the words Tear and fragrance free stuck like a bad swallow at the back of your throat.

Babies need so many things. At the supermarket they have these great walls of baby food and it’s expensive enough to take your eye out every time. A quarter of an hours wage for every organic, soft meal, and sure, they don’t need organic, vegetables are organic intrinsically, whatever, but if you don’t buy organic pre-made meals you have to make the baby food yourself, how long does that take? You put the baby shampoo down and turn to the conditioners.

Unhappy, you scour them for nothing and turn on the spot. Why is Dr. Black never here? How are you supposed to ask him your questions if he doesn’t show up to work?

You’ll have to ask the brown-haired boy. Nice eyes, nice smile. He probably won’t judge you, at least not out loud.

He stands up from his rickety chair, soft leather seat worn and creaking as he pushes it away. “Yeah?” he asks.

“Do you have to do that patient-confidentiality thing?”

He smiles rather gently. “I do. A condition of my employment is to protect patient information. Legally, I can’t share private or sensitive information about you to anyone else in the world, unless I believe you’re in proper danger.” He holds his hands behind his back. “Is there something you wanted to ask me?”

Wind roars outside. Your eyes start to the door.

“There’s a private room in the back,” he adds.

“I don’t want to waste your time.”

“It’s not wasted. Even if I weren’t legally obligated to keep whatever secrets you may have, I’m worried you look a bit poorly.”

He speaks oddly. Or not odd, but different to any of the other men you’ve met. It’s friendly, and yet somehow he’s quiet, too. His interest feels real, so you cross the room to the desk and put your basket on your shoes.

You try to find a way to say it. “I know you’re not a doctor.”

“No, I’m an apprentice pharmacist.”

“Right. I know I should go to the doctor, and not you.”

“That depends. We’re here to help. Doesn’t matter if you should go somewhere, you can ask me first.”

You struggle. He waits. His hands lay steady on the edge of the desk, his face nearly blank besides a hint of warmth.

“Is it alright if it’s a question about, um, sex?”

He nods emphatically. “Of course that’s alright. I can’t promise I’ll know the answer, but you’re welcome to ask me anything and I can always get back to you if you’re not willing to ask someone else.” His smile turns wry. “I know it’s uncomfortable, but it’s only sex. I don’t mind.”

“I just…” You hold your hands together. “I wanted to know, if pain after… if it’s supposed to hurt so much after.”

His wry smile is quickly subdued, though he remains friendly looking. “It depends,” he says, measured, “on a few things. You probably know that the first time you have sex can be painful because of the initial perforation of the hymen, but usually sex isn’t supposed to be painful at all.”

“At all.”

“No. If sex hurts, it’s likely from a lack of preparation, bruising of the cervix, or it could be a condition called vaginismus. That’s where your muscles tighten suddenly when you attempt penetration. Having sex with vaginismus can be extremely painful.”

Something on his chest catches the light. A name tag.

He follows your gaze. “Oh,” he says. “I’m Remus. Sorry, it might’ve been nicer for you to know that before I started talking.”

Remus… You shake your head at him. “Um… Remus… Well, I’m not really sure what happened.”

“Right.”

“I wasn’t–” Your heart jumps before you can confess, horrible secret stuck to the roof of your mouth.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “are you sure you don’t want to go sit down in the quiet room with me? I can make you a cup of tea.”

“I can’t have caffeine.”

“I have night time tea. Is that alright?”

“The shop?”

“It’s okay, I’ll ask Sirius to come down. You really aren’t doing anything wrong.”

“I feel like I shouldn't ask you.”

“That’s a consequence of our great British society,” he says, lightly teasing as he lifts the counter to come from behind it and presses a small red button on an intercom box by the inside door. It’s an attempt to make you feel better, and it nearly works. “You feel embarrassed about something you have no reason to feel embarrassed of. Everybody has sex, and everybody has bad sex, sometimes, and needs advice.”

The intercom crackles before you can speak. “Moony?” a voice asks.

“Sirius, I have someone who needs to talk to me. You’ll have to come on the till for a bit.”

“Kay. Down now.”

Remus smiles. “That’s about as obliging as he gets.”

“Sirius, is he the– is he the one who reads?”

“Not often. You’re thinking of Regulus, his brother.”

Regulus, of course. “They look so similar.”

“They do.” He gestures for you to stand beside him as the inside door swings open, unveiling one of those dark-haired brother’s, the taller of the two.

“Oh, hi,” Sirius says, wet hair on his shoulders, his t-shirt sodden at the front like he’d swept it back, “okay? There’s biscuits in the left cupboard, Moons.”

Remus, Moons, Moony, holds the door back and lets you inside.

The walk to the quiet room is strange. Sitting down at the table with him as he passes you a box of biscuits, kettle boiling, he doesn’t put you on ends, but it doesn’t feel good. You slip your hand under your t-shirt where he can’t see and feel the hot stretch of your stomach for something that isn’t there.

“So,” he says, grimacing, “I’m going to ask you some precursory questions. You don’t have to answer any of them if you don’t want to.”

“Okay.”

“Are you in any active danger?”

You shake your head slowly. “None.”

“Is someone close to you hurting you?”

“No.”

“Are you alright?”

You twist your hands together tightly. “I don’t think so.”

“No?” He slips his chair closer to your own. “Are you hurt now?”

You look down at your lap. This is awful. This is why you didn’t want to go to see your doctor. “I don’t know. I’m not hurt, but it does hurt. I move and it feels like something sharp is digging into me.”

“I see.” He frowns. “This can happen sometimes with penetration. It’s like I said before, if your body isn’t, you know, prepared? If you aren’t using lubrication, if you aren’t relaxed, it can be as simple as friction having hurt you, but it’s possible you’ve got cervical bruising, or an issue with your pelvic floor. It could be that you have a UTI. If we go through a couple of questions together I might be able to suggest a solution, but I have to tell you to see your doctor if you can. Alright? Pain after sex can be normal, but it doesn’t have to be. When we go back out, I’ll give you some paracetamol as well.”

He looks as though he might have something else to say, but he stops when you open your mouth. “I don’t know what happened.”

Remus frowns again. “Right.”

The cellophane on the biscuits is shining under the light.

“I don’t really know what to do.”

“It’s a stabbing pain?” His frown gets impossibly deeper. “I have some ibuprofen. Off the record, you can have some of that with your tea. Here.” He procures a blister pack from his pocket and hands it to you, jumping up for the kettle, carrying it back to your mugs to set with the pint of milk. “It will probably go away soon, lovely, I would try not to worry, but it’s good to keep an eye on it too, and to book with the doctors if it gets worse. There are so many things that can go wrong in the body, but we’re also such good self-healers, it’s hard to know what to do.”

“It’s… something else, too.”

“Yeah?”

“I was wondering if the pain is maybe because I…”

Your face goes hot as coal embers, a furious sweat on the back of your neck. Remus doesn’t prod. He pours water into your mug until it’s a little over half full, the tea bag at the bottom staining it sepia.

“I think I’m pregnant,” you say, not sure why it hurts to say so much.

“Right.”

“Do you think it hurts because of that?”

Remus bites his lip as he pours his own mug of tea. He’s looking at you as he puts the kettle down. “No, I wouldn’t think so, but it’s not an impossibility. How pregnant were you thinking?”

“It was two weeks ago, so… so however long it takes to get pregnant.”

He looks alarmed, then. “Lovely, that was the last time you had sex?”

“Yeah.”

“And it still hurts now?”

“Only sometimes,” you say nervously.

He ignores his steaming tea. “Right. Well, I think I need to advise you to make an emergency appointment today. I can make it with you. You shouldn’t still be hurting after two weeks, pregnant or not. Ectopic pregnancies don’t tend to hurt until further along, so…” Remus slows, looking at you with that too-kind frown, brown eyes darker back here behind the fog curls of his tea.

You feel caught on something.

“I wasn’t awake,” you say quietly. “Just woke up hurting. I guessed what happened, ‘n now I’m pregnant. It could only have been...” You shrug it off, even as heat blooms behind your eyes, nose already hot and sniffly.

“You were assaulted.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Remus seems to freeze up. “I’m sorry.” He takes a few seconds, and then he meets your eyes. “I can’t imagine how scary that must have been, and how scary it still is.”

Your eyes line with tears. “I mean, it’s less scary now.” First tear tips forward as your voice falls to pieces. “I just don’t know what to do. Every day I’ve come here this week I’ve tried to ask about it, because I saw that poster, if I’m hurt then I can– then I can come to the pharmacy, but I’m not hurt, I’m fine now.”

“Oh,” he says gently, pushing his chair over a little to bring himself closer, his hand coming to rest on your hunched shoulder, “even if you weren’t in any pain at all, you’re more than welcome to come here and speak to us, to me. This residual pain, I imagine you must’ve been quite injured when it happened. You didn’t have any help at all?”

“I didn’t think there’s anything they could do.”

“That’s okay, it’s not your fault,” he says, rubbing your shoulder kindly. “I just want to know as much of the details as you feel alright giving me, so we can move forward in the best way possible.” His hand slides across your back, nearly hugging. “I’m sorry. Really. And I’m sorry for talking so much about ‘bad sex’, I didn’t realise what you were telling me.”

“I’m sorry for telling you.”

“What?” he asks, a soft incredulity to him, “You have nothing to be sorry for. You can tell as many or as few people as you like, but I’m extremely glad to be told, because no one should ever have to face this sort of thing alone, should they?” He rubs your back when you nod, again when you sniffle. “Alright. It’s alright. You’re okay.”

You don’t cry as much as you worry you might under a soft touch. The memory of waking up paralyses you for a bit, that confusion, the pain, the bruise across your neck. All of it makes you feel sick, but Remus shushes you under his breath, not to really shush you, but to calm you down.

“I’m okay,” you say, shamed.

“Try and drink some of this tea. Can I leave you alone for a minute?”

“Oh, uh– yeah, of course. I’m fine.”

His hand lingers between your shoulders. “Just for a minute, I’m going to find some bits for you–”

“I don’t need anything–”

“No, no, it’s okay, it’s just stuff I have to give you, and some things you might need.” Remus’ hand traces carefully to the front of your shoulder. He meets your eyes, nothing but compassion in the line of his mouth. “Okay?”

You say okay. Remus uses the door you came in through to head back out onto the pharmacy’s shop floor, letting it shut quietly behind him. You press your hand to your teeth.

—

To Remus’ credit, he apologises for both pamphlets. Abortion Explained. What to expect when you’re expecting. “For you to know your options,” he’d said. “Whatever you decide, it’s your decision.”

He can’t know you’ll spend a week pouring over them all, that you’ll worry at the corner of the STD clinic card, or that you’ll shove the RapeCrisis one down the side of your bed, desperate to throw it out, but terrified you’ll need it, too.

And some of the stuff he gives you. You don’t even know what to do with it. Painkillers, lavender oil, discreet pads for incontinence. You’d tried to pay and he’d touched the back of your hand without explanation. “No, it’s okay,” he’d said. Nothing else.

You spend days again wrapped in your own nausea, until Thursday evening, when you make your way to Community Support.

You honestly weren’t considering it when Remus first gave you the card, but he said his friend worked there, “My best friend, James,” he corrected, ”and his wife, Lily, too. She talks to people about all kinds of things. I just wonder if you might feel happier talking about it with a woman.”

Which was a nice sentiment, and possibly true, though Remus had been the first person you told. To be met with his sympathy in such a boundless capacity made it easier. Made you think, Maybe I’m not stupid for hating that it happened.

“I’m here every Monday, Thursday, Saturday and Sunday,” he‘d said when you made up a lie about needing to leave, scared of overstaying, “seven ‘til three, but you can ask for me if you ever want to. Sirius usually knows where I am.”

And you had wanted to, but you knew you couldn’t. Being so desperately alone that you craved the comfort of a stranger’s hand is fine, but it didn’t feel okay to hold him hostage like that. Of course he feels sorry for you, of course he wants to make you feel better, how heartless would he look otherwise?

You’d chide yourself for thinking cynically about someone who’d only ever been nice if it would make a difference. Lonely, wrecked, you end up at the Community Support Group at the local leisure centre, wavering behind the swing doors.

A face appears on the other side of the door. Deep skin, eyes like cherry pits and lips painted a cheery red, a woman smiles at you and pulls it open.

“Hi! Are you here for the support group?”

“Uh– Yeh–” You swallow roughly. “Yes. Is that here?”

“That’s here.” She puts a thumb through the belt loop on her jeans. “Why don’t you come inside?”

You take a tentative step.

“I’m Mary,” she says.

“I don’t have to sign anything, right?” you ask.

Mary leads you into the room without stopping. “This is off the books only. Do you want some tea or coffee?”

“I can’t have caffeine.”

“Decaf?”

“Can I have water?”

Mary has a good smile. Like she knows you, like you’re already friends. She cups your shoulder and guides you to the refreshment table, an impressive splendor of coffee, tea, individually wrapped biscuits, and sandwiches. There’s a box of protein bars with a handwritten red felt note that says: Take me home if you want to!

“Aren’t hungry are you?” Mary asks.

“Not really.”

She ducks down at the table and pushes aside tablecloth to grab a crate of water from underneath.

“You haven’t been here before, then?” Mary asks as she stands. “I remember most faces, I don’t think I’ve seen you here.”

“No, I’ve never… um, someone at the pharmacy told me I can come,” you say tightly.

“Oh, you can! Of course you can. I wondered if you were new, that’s all.” She presses a bottle of water into your hands. You look down at her fingers, confused at their odd texture, your neck snapping up once you realise what you’re doing.

Mary has scars all over her hands, her wrists, and you’d been gawking at them by mistake. “Sorry,” you mumble.

“For what? Do you want me to stay? Or would you rather be by yourself?”

“We don’t sit in a circle, do we?”

Mary laughs lightly. “No, no circle yet, you can leave if you don’t wanna stay for the group talking therapy. For the first hour people just say hello to one another. There are a ton of counsellors here, okay? I’m just gonna wander, but if you want to talk to me, come and find me, yeah?”

“Okay, thanks. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, hun.” She smiles at you, a little softer than before. “You can sit down if it makes you feel less awkward, but be warned, the sofas are James’ territory. He loves to talk.”

Don’t wanna get stuck with James, you think. Though really, you’re here to talk. Or to turn around and go home with a pocket full of protein bars.

The community room is an emptied dance hall that’s been made nice. There are big boards of fliers, of last year’s trampolining club, and another of the Community Support Christmas club, whatever that had been. It looked busier then than it does tonight —there are a ton of sunny looking counsellors dotted around the room and talking in triangles, half as many people like you.

Someone random catches your eyes and you fluster, making your way to the terracotta sofas in the corner of the room on impulse. A man sits with an arm across his eyes, glasses on his chest, looking so sorrily tired for a second that you forget you’d come looking for help of your own.

“Are you okay?” you ask, stilted. James’ territory, and you’d walked straight in.

The man sits up starkly. He looks right at you, but you don’t recognise him until he puts on his glasses. It’s one of those pharmacy men.

No, it’s not, you’d just seen him outside.

“Hello,” he says, sliding his glasses up a strong-bridged nose. “I’m okay, I’m just resting my eyes,” —he laughs— “you alright?” You nod. “Yeah? Here for the support club? Or the sandwiches?”

“I–” Will you stammer every time someone asks you about it? “One of the– the pharmacy, one of the pharmacists told me to come.”

“That’s good,” he says earnestly. “I like those guys. Did you want a sandwich or something? I must’ve made a hundred. My hand still aches from the butter knife.”

“I’m okay.”

“Okay. Well, did you want to sit down? I promise I won’t hold you hostage or anything.”

What am I doing? you think miserably, taking a seat in the sofa adjacent to his.

He crosses one leg over the other. “Please don’t look so upset. I swear I genuinely won’t make you talk. I’m just here for the biscuits and lovely Lily, I promise. And lovelier Remus–” He laughs to himself.

“You’re James?” you ask.

“The last time I checked.”

“Remus– he mentioned you’d be here. I forgot.”

James only smiles. “He’s brilliant, isn’t he?” he asks, wriggling in his seat to procure one of those biscuit packets from his back pocket.

“He said that I might like talking to Lily.”

It feels weird calling her by her first name without knowing her, but James agrees, “I’ll introduce you when she gets here, if that’s what you want.”

“I just… I don’t know.”

“She’s just as nice as Remus is. Remus was nice to you, wasn’t he?”

You nod and look down at your clenched hands. “Yeah. He was nice to me.”

“That’s good.”

A tepid silence pervades for a moment.

“Do you want a biscuit or something? Or we have noodles and soup and stuff in the storage room, I’m happy to make you something warm if you want that.”

“You guys are like a restaurant,” you say, still not willing to look at him.

“It’s nice to have options.”

You nod hurriedly, sick to your stomach all over again. Options. Decisions.

Somewhere in the room, they turn on a radio. Shoes squeak on the waxed floor, a boy laughs like he’s being tickled. It was a mistake to come tonight. You desperately want someone to hug you and you know it’s too much to ask for, staggering to your feet with a headrush to be blinked back.

“You okay?” James asks.

“Yeah. Um, where’s the toilet?”

“Back out of the double doors, they’re right in front of you, okay? Straight in front and then to the left, you can’t miss them.”

“Okay.”

“Wait, Y/N?” he says.

You shoot him a look that betrays your surprise.

“Sorry, Remus told me to keep a look out for you. I just wanted to say, I know this is different, and it’s weird, I get that, and I have no idea why you’re here tonight, but I promised Remus I wouldn’t upset you, and I think I already have.”

“He didn’t tell you why I’m here?”

“Of course not.” James blows a breath that makes his hair fly away from his face in a wave. “It’s none of my business why you’re here. My job is to make sandwiches. I mean, some people come here just for the sandwiches or the warm room, and that’s fine.”

“The sandwiches are that good?” you ask.

“They’re great. We don’t fuck around, I use the real salted butter in the foil wrappings and the thick bread and everything. Proper ham, not the wafer thin stuff. And there’s veggie bacon too, if you don’t eat meat. I don’t know, could you please just let me feed you something? Remus won’t forgive me if you came here and you didn’t even eat.”

“I think you’re using Remus as a ploy,” you say quietly.

“I am! So let’s go have a sandwich or a biscuit or something.” He waves his biscuits at you. “They’re Border’s. Butterscotch Border’s, you literally can’t ask for better.”

Just try. Be brave for a bit. “I like the uh– the lemon ones.”

James shoots up onto his feet, grinning. “Amazing taste. Let’s go find you some.”

—

James takes you to the refreshment table. He finds you lemon drizzle biscuits, two packets, and he pushes two more into your hands with the command to take them home. He offers to make you dinner again when Lily arrives in a tizzy, with a chubby baby on her hip.

Harry, she says. Just turned three. Scandalised everyone at home, Lily’s sister kicked her out, disaster. Harry, though, is beautiful. James and Lily are beautiful, and happy. James takes Harry into his arms the moment he sees him murmuring about his boy, and the sensation of guilt under your skin grows worse than ever.

How are you liking group? Lily asks. Would you come back next week? That’s great! I’m so glad to hear it.

—

You’re walking through Wilmand Street to the corner shop a few days later when you see him. Brown hair wet with snow, ashing a cigarette into the brick wall by the library. Remus cringes as he does it, blowing smoke from the side of his mouth in a call, “Y/N!” he says, “Hey, lovely, how are you? Sorry about the smoke,” he adds. “I was hoping I’d see you this week.”

“Yeah?”

“I wondered how you were doing.”

“Well, don’t worry about me, I’m okay. I…” You cringe, pulling a hand down your sore chest. “I owe you an apology. I’m sorry for the other day, for dumping that stuff on you, you don’t even know me and I told you such a horrible thing and made you worry, and your friends were so nice to me at the community group and I just didn’t say thanks or anything. I’m genuinely ashamed of myself.” You smile a weird smile, clunky, attempting to brush everything away like it didn’t mean anything, silly little you. “All the time.”

Remus’ expression goes odd, a wall you can’t read, left searching his winter jacket for clues as to how he’s feeling. “I don’t think you have anything to be ashamed of,” he says, finally and simply.

“It was rude of me.”

“I have some experience with feeling ashamed for the things other people have done,” he says, flakes of snow kissing his shoulders, a white dot coming to rest and melt on his cheek. “I understand why you’re feeling this way, and it’s expected, but… How do I put this?”

You watch his eyes. Remus struggles to say anything more. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen a flicker of insecurity on him. He always seems calmly settled, as though he’s thought about the world and found what it is he was looking for in it a long time ago.

“Just because we think something doesn’t make it true,” he says, hiding his hands in his coat pockets. “You might feel like it was wrong to tell me, but it wasn’t, and you might think you were rude to my friends, but you weren’t. They didn’t have a single bad word to say about you. Not that either of them tend to say anything disparaging about anyone,” he adds as an afterthought.

“I wish I didn’t tell you, is all.”

“I’m sorry. I can go on as though you didn’t, if that’s what you want, whatever you want.”

You look down at your chest, nodding. “Okay.”

Which isn’t a yes or no to his suggestion, but he doesn’t pull you up on it. “Okay. Are you going to the pharmacy?”

“I– no. But I did hope to ask you something.” He nods, as if to say, Go on. “It’s about the sex clinic.”

“What about it?”

“I don’t really know what it is.”

Remus looks around the street and then up and down your arms. The jumper you’re wearing is thin, your teeth aching to chatter, and he’s noticed it already. “Do you want to have this conversation over tea, lovely?” he asks.

“Decaf?”

“Yes, and biscuits, if you’re interested.”

You follow Remus up the marginally steep hill that makes up Wilmand Street and enter the pharmacy behind him. It’s wooden front and newspaper clippings give way to the starker insides, where you find Sirius sitting at the front desk. Or rather, sitting on it, corded telephone held between his ear and his shoulder. “Oh, he’s just come in, but he has company. Yeah, he said.” Sirius presses the phone to his shoulder to give you both a small but earnest smile. “Hey, you’ve been snowed on. Turn the heating up before you catch your death.”

“It’s been caught,” Remus says with a wave. “We’re going to sit in the kitchen. Tell Reg not to interrupt us.”

Your mouth falls open, but Sirius only salutes his —friend? coworker? “James says he’s giving the phone a sloppy one for you.”

“Lovely.” Remus laughs brightly, his hand slipping behind your shoulder. “Alright?” he asks.

You give a nod and continue following him past the inside door to the kitchen you’d sat in before. Remus flicks the kettle on and sits down, forcing you to take his cue and sit opposite of him.

“Much warmer in here,” he mumbles, stripping out of his coat. “Alright. What did you want to ask me about the sex clinic?”

“Um… I don’t know. How do I go there?”

“We’ll make an appointment. It’s not far from the leisure centre, so you can walk, or I can book you a taxi, give you a lift. We'll work something out.”

“And they… won’t mind that I– that I don’t really know what I’m doing?”

You almost miss the dissatisfied noise he makes over the rising sound of the kettle. “They won’t mind.”

“Do I have to tell them what happened?”

“No. I mean, I assume it’s better if they have a clearer picture of the circumstances, but then again, you’re entitled to your privacy. You could just say you’re concerned about your intimate health.”

“But they’ll ask questions.”

“Yeah, they will. I know you don’t want to answer them, and that’s okay. You don’t have to answer them. Doctor’s, pharmacists, we just ask about stuff because we have to, but there’s no law that says you have to answer.”

Now you’ve had time to think about things beyond the aching and the angry horror, a new fear has curdled. “What if he gave me something?” you say under your breath.

“Then we can get you whatever medicine it is that you need and we can work toward you feeling better again.” His head tips as the kettle clicks. “Did you still want tea?”

“Yes, please.”

Remus makes you each a cup of decaf tea, bringing sugar and milk to the table for you to add yourself.

“We can go now, if you want to.”

“To the clinic?” you ask.

Remus nods slowly. “Mm-hm. It’s an emergency.”

“You’d come with me?” you ask, not breathless, but almost.

“If you’re okay with it and you want me to, I’ll come with you. It might not be so scary. Or I can ask Lily to take you.”

It’s not Remus’ fault that the person who assaulted you was a man like he is, but it does sound less intimidating to go with a girl. You’re not sure why. It’s not like he hasn’t been kind since the minute you asked him about confidentiality or that he deserves your distrust, but even sitting in this room with him now talking about the clinic has made you uncomfortable again. “Would she mind?”

“Lily would love to take you. I know that sounds strange. She wouldn’t love that you need to go, but she wouldn’t want you to go alone if you’re worried about it.”

“And she’ll go now?”

Remus pushes your mug toward you. “You have some tea and I'll go and ask James if she’s around.”

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not,” he says. “There’s biscuits in the cupboard, lovely. If you want some, you can help yourself.”

Things don’t pass that day in much detail after that. When Remus returns ten minutes later, you’ve finished your tea, and Lily is with him. She was on her way here already. She’d be happy to take you to the clinic.

So you go, and you get checked out, and you submit to their tests and their invasive, well-intentioned questions. Lily takes you to a cafe afterward and buys you a pastry you can’t do more than poke. She takes you home. You feel guilty for not saying thank you in the car, but you can barely speak. A few days later you get a phone call with your results. You take a course of medications. You cry yourself to sleep three days in a row, because, as they’d tested for STDs, they tested for something else, and they’d told you what you‘d already known.

You’re as pregnant as your home tests said you are. Despite everything, you feel an emotion you hate, and you push it down again.

—

The door to your flat shakes with a sharp knock.

You startle and stand, not sure what you’d been thinking, a hole burned into the floor at your feet. You’re in no state to answer the door, wet hair dripping a river down your back and your pajamas old. There’s nothing for it.

You take the handle into your hand and squeeze.

Dark-haired Regulus is standing in the hallway. You let the door close just an inch between you.

“Regulus,” you say, unsure if surprise will help or hinder you.

“Hello.”

“How can I…”

“Remus asked me to check in on you.”

You’re not sure you like what he’s saying. “How do you know where I live?”

“Remus didn’t ask me to come to your flat, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“No, it’s not. I’m confused that you know where I live when I didn’t tell you.”

He holds a deft hand up in surrender. “I live across the street, I’ve seen you come into the building, and your last name is on the postbox downstairs. I’m not doing anything illegal.”

Just weird, then.

“Remus asked me to keep an eye out for you,” he says, “but you haven’t been to the pharmacy, naturally.”

“So your solution was to come to my house?”

“I don’t think there’s any need to get twitchy.”

But there is. There is. He might not know what it is, and you might find thinking about it feels like a serrated blade end squeezed in your fist, but there is a need. You don’t want him to be here. It doesn’t matter that he’s small and skinny and has a sweet nose. This is your place to be by yourself, and to have nobody know where you are. This is the locked door.

He has the sense to soften his bravado. “Sorry. I’ve made you uncomfortable.”

You try to relax your shoulders. Your ribs ache with the tension. “Please,” you say gently, “tell Remus that I’m alright. Thank you for worrying about me.”

Regulus looks to the stairwell leading to the foyer. “He’s going to Community Support tonight if you want to tell him yourself. I am, too.” He doesn’t look at you again. “See you later,” he says to the stairs.

—

You go to Community Support despite yourself.

“Can you forgive me for not flirting with you?”

You surprise the urge to flinch hard, turning to the voice with a half-smile. Sirius is standing beside you suddenly, your faces reflected in the plexiglass covered notice board just outside of the community hall. “What?” you ask.

“I don’t mean to be offensive. I haven’t flirted because I thought Remus might have his eye on you, and I don’t want you to think it’s because you’re not beautiful.”

You have to turn to see him to realise he’s teasing you now to be friendly. “I’d be offended if you did flirt with me,” you say.

“Marvellous, then I won’t.”

“Remus doesn’t have his eye on me, though. He’s just been giving me pharmaceutical advice, I suppose.”

“Oh, I see. I thought maybe you’d… Well, never mind. Forget I said anything.”

He’s handsome enough that you’d be shocked if he actually did flirt with you, clear-skinned as his brother, but with a warmer smile, almost mischievous, like he knows something you don’t know and he’ll tell you for the right price. His shoulders are slim, his biceps particularly solid as he crosses his arms over his chest. He notices you noticing and gives a flex, to your laughter. “Like what you see?” he asks.

“Sorry.”

“We’re on the rugby team, you know.”

“You and Remus?”

“As if, Remus doesn’t like sports. He’s more of a walker. James and I are the sportsmen.”

Sirius didn’t strike you as somebody who plays anything either, but it’s not polite to say.

“Well, aren’t you coming inside?” he asks. “We could use a face like yours in there tonight. Beautiful girls are great for overall morale.”

You shake your head. “Don’t think so.”

“You came all the way here. You could at least come in for a bit of cake or something.”

“Community support or community kitchen?” you mumble.

“Everybody gets hungry. The best part of being in a community is making sure nobody goes hungry for long, right?”

You give him a sideways look. Somehow, someway, you’ve become acquainted with a circle of philanthropists. Normal people aren’t so generous. You’re too tired to be this kind.

“What kind do you have?”

“Carrot, red velvet, Victoria sponge, and plain chocolate, I think. Maybe a bit of walnut sponge if Marlene hasn’t mauled the whole thing.”

You’re not sure you can stomach it, just he’s looking at you so nicely that you want to go in with him. “Okay.”

“Okay?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

Sirius slips a hand behind your back, letting it hover an inch from your skin as he shepherds you through the double doors and into the main hall. It’s far more crowded than it had been on your first visit, a small circle of people already in chairs talking a ways from the crowded food table, pilfered, more sandwiches in hands than hands to hold them, and enough brewed coffee to scent the air. James is immediately noticeable crouching at the table, having pulled a crate of juice boxes from beneath it, laughing about something someone is saying to him —something Remus is saying, the tallest man in the room and somehow completely non-imposing, his voice more colour than sound as he talks.

It must just be because Remus is attentive. Must be the memory of his nice hand on your shoulder, squeezing, that makes you pay special attention to his shaking. “Is he laughing?” you ask.

Sirius tunes in quickly. “Yeah. He’s done that since we were kids. He can laugh like normal, but when something really has him it’s like he can’t get the sound out.” He chuckles himself. “Idiots. Come on, let’s get you your slice of cake.”

You can’t help staring at Remus as Sirius takes you over to him and James. James is so happy to see you he almost loses his glasses.

“You’re back! I thought my shitty impersonation of a counsellor might’ve scared you off. Don’t want some soup, do you?”

“Don’t say yes out of pity,” Sirius says. “Nobody ever wants James to make them soup.”

“You like my soup.”

“I like Effie’s soup. She makes the best bowl of lemon chicken I’ve ever tasted, and you make a mediocre imitation of her recipe, which is as good as it gets while I’m away.”

“Effie’s my mother,” James explains, clambering to his feet with the crate of small bottles of juice held to his chest. “Euphemia. And she does make the best lemon chicken soup, but mines just fine! And anyways, tonight I made winter vegetable because all the Christmas veg was 8p and I have a fuckton. It’s delicious. I cut the swede up so thin it melts in your mouth, I got fresh thyme from the garden, little bit of spinach, all of it cooked in a metric ton of butter.”

Remus snorts softly. He meets your eyes, which has you smiling on automatic. “James is a bit of a soup addict.”

”I–” You feel hungry for the first time in weeks. “I’d quite like to, uh, try some. If you really don’t mind.”

James glows, shoving the case of juice onto the refreshment table next to the hot water towers. “Yes. How about toasties, lovely, d’you want a cheese toastie with it? You’ll love it.” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “Anyone else while I’m warming it?”

Remus meets your eyes again, like you’re sharing a secret. “I’ll have a bowl, Jamie.”

“Yes.”

“Alright,” Sirius acquiesces, “and me. And Reg will, too, wherever he’s gone off too. But he won’t have cheese–”

“Just toast, I know.”

James gets a look on him like he’s found the secrets of the universe. “I’ll make a garlic butter cheese toastie for all of you. Mm?”

Sirius waves him away.

Sirius grabs you a slice of cake even as you mumble about the soup and how it’s dessert before dinner. Doesn’t matter, he murmurs back, not worried about why you’ve gone shy, I promised you a slice.

You take an apple juice and follow him to a table. Remus comes with you. He looks sunnier today than the last time you saw him despite ever-cloudy weather. Maybe he’s just a bit golden. Steady, he sits at the table across from you with Sirius taking a seat perpendicular, the three of you three sides to a square, nothing to look at besides your hand squeezed around the handle of a plastic fork.

“I’m sorry about Regulus,” Remus says. “I didn’t mean for him to visit you at home. He told me you weren’t thrilled about it, and I can’t blame you.”

“I’m sorry too,” Sirius says, wrinkling his nose. “I have no clue why he did that.”

“And Regulus would be sorry, he just has a hard time realising when he’s overstepped.”

You nod at the table. “It’s okay. I mean, it did make me uncomfortable, and I– wasn’t super polite to him. I just wasn’t expecting him to be at the door, that’s all. And he said sorry, actually. So it’s forgiven.”

“Oh.” Sirius perches his hand in his head. “That’s unlike him. He doesn’t tend to be sorry.”

“Neither do you,” Remus says.

“It’s a family trait.”

“Can I save this for after soup?” you ask, shuffling your plate to the side. It’ll be easier to eat your cake when everyone else is eating as well.

“Course you can,” Sirius says, leaning back in his seat. “But if you don’t eat it, I’ll assume you don’t like me. I’m sensitive like that.”

Remus rolls his eyes, again gifting you with a great feeling, as though you’re in on a secret with him. He’s wearing an aviator jacket that looks incredibly soft, worn but not tattered, sherpa insides flattened but clean. The sleeves warp as he crosses his arms in front of him on the table and leans forward, conspirator.

“So, how was your morning? Besides Regulus’ unwelcome intrusion,” he says, almost drawling as Sirius does when he gets that playful look in his eye.

You’re not sure how to handle these boys. But you want to try. You’re sick of having nobody, of being nobody, even if it’s a little discomfiting sometimes to be with them. “My morning was fine. Tries to get through all my washing but it’s a mountain, so I left it and had a long shower instead.”

“How long is long?” Remus asks.

“Too long.”

“Like Remus’, then. I’m a one and done man, wash and go.” Sirius peels forward, “And Remus takes hours. Uses all the hot water.”

“You live together?” you ask.

“We did for a bit, didn’t we?” Sirius says.

“Six very long years,” Remus says. “But I have a flat, and Sirius lives on Wilmand Street now, thank god.”

“Thank god indeed,” Sirius says, “now I can actually wash my hair on a semi-regular basis.”

“Can you?” Remus asks.

“What are you implying?”

“Only that your hair seems distinctly unwashed lately, don’t worry.”

“He’s showing off ‘cos you’re here,” Sirius says, smiling despite the accusation as he takes a hand through his hair and pushes it back from his face. “I wash plenty.”

“Do you? I was almost hoping you’d stopped. Maybe that would explain the weird thing you have going on right here.” Remus scratches his upper lip.

“Fuck off, you just don’t like a scratchy kiss–”

Remus laughs suddenly. After a moment, it tapers into silence, though his shoulders still shake, and you can hear his laughter in his voice when he says, “That charming thatch of stubble would be the last of my worries if I wanted to kiss you, Sirius.”

“What’s top of the list then?”

“The smell, obviously. I’m getting top notes of wet dog and a headier dampness–”

“You sick bastard,” Sirius says, sounding absolutely delighted at his friend's insult.

“You just need a good wash, is all.”

You don’t mean to, but you laugh. Giggle, really, entertained by them and shocked a little by the way they snip and snap at each other. You pitch forward, face angled down, eyes tempted to shut completely. Sick bastard, you think, laughing still.

It only makes you laugh more when Sirius nudges you. “Hey, thought we were getting somewhere,” he murmurs.

You giggle some more. “Sorry,” you squeeze out eventually.

“Don’t be. He can take a hit. Even if he’s sensitive,” Remus says.

Sirius sniffs. “I’m not that sensitive. Can’t make a joke anymore without being entirely misrepresented.”

—

James’ soup becomes a staple for you over the next couple of days. Community Support is a daily occurrence, though some nights are more popular than others. The weekends are busiest, Friday and Saturday night, but Wednesdays have an uptick you aren’t expecting, sitting at one of the plastic tables with another cup or winter veg soup and a garlic buttered toastie. You blow on melty cheese as James brings the hot plate out to the refreshment table, making it easier to serve the many who want it. He’s gleeful, promising that they’re gonna love it, and then tacking on an amendment that anyone who doesn’t like it is more than welcome to something else from the kitchen.

With payday for most at midnight Friday, or some time after, it’s the hump of the week that hits hardest. You don’t come for the soup, but some people do, and they can’t be blamed for it; stretching money out isn’t easy.

Your stomach clenches. Your spoon wobbles in your hand.

From across the room, Remus sends you a warm smile, a kid in his arms and another at his thigh, chattering away as their mam takes a well-deserved breather by the terracotta sofas.

The next day is the same. James makes soup and ham sandwiches, ham off the bone, made it himself, and you pick at the crusts at a plastic table. Sirius keeps you company for a bit, and then Remus rags on him until he leaves. They’re both too smiley to believe any animosity.

On Friday, James isn’t there.

“Harry’s poorly.”

“I thought he might’ve had a day off.”

“He and Lily like the group too much for days off.” Remus scratches a hand through his hair. It’s the most boyish thing he’s ever done in front of you. “Are you liking it here? You haven’t missed a day all week.”

“James makes a good soup.”

“He left plenty, if you want it.”

You’re not sure you can stomach it. You give a small shake of your head. “Will Harry be okay?”

“Fine. He gets ear infections, James used to get them too, even when we were teenagers. He’s on antibiotics already, it’s just the crying that’s the worst. Makes him sick.” Remus smiles sympathetically. “Makes James sick, too. But they’ll be okay.”

“That’s good. It’s too quiet here when James isn’t around.”

The hall is practically silent. There are a few people milling around on the sofas and another handful drinking tea by the refreshment table. Mary is patting a crying woman with pink hair on the back. A two year old sits at her feet, staring up at her sullenly.

“I could go turn on the radio.”

You perch your chin in your palm, elbow on the table. Tired today. “That’s okay. It’s nice.” Quiet, but not lonely.

“You feeling okay?” he asks.

“Yeah.” You fight the urge to let your eyes shutter closed. “I’m okay. You okay?”

“I’m great. I’m really glad you’ve been coming. I know you don’t stay for group therapy, and you don’t have to, but… I don’t know, I think it’s just good to be around people.”

You feel like he meant to say a particular but dodged it at the last second. He hesitated.

He said he wouldn’t bring it up if you didn’t want him to, but maybe you do, just so you know it was real, and bad. It was awful, wasn’t it?

“I don’t like being alone,” you confess, scratching the back of your neck. “For a while…” You scratch scratch scratch, sounds of your nails over skin, then let your hand drop with a thump against your thigh. “I wanted to be alone. But now when I’m home by myself I feel awful.”

“It’s normal to want company.”

“Even after what happened?”

“Especially after what happened. I think the stereotype is that people… experience something bad, and that they retreat into themselves, and that’s based on a real process of emotions,” —he talks quietly but surely, without a lick of condescension— “and a real sort of phenomena. Everybody needs time to lick their wounds, to put it heavily. But it makes sense that you’d seek out company when you’ve just had a really, really horrible thing happen.”

You did retreat into yourself at first. Wasting days away in bed without an appetite, crying yourself sick and to sleep, hating yourself and the world and him, because it hurt so badly. But then you didn’t get your period when you were expecting it and it was like holding the times of a fork to a plug socket, a nasty shock flaring through your entire body from the tips of your fingers. And now you have decisions to make and a life to live after, it’s happening now, quickly. You aren’t feeling any better than you were that morning when you first woke up and realised you’d been attacked without fully knowing, but time is moving forward regardless. You don’t know why you crave other people, but you do. You like seeing Remus every night, even if he only talks to you once or twice. You like eating James’ home cooked food, like watching Sirius and Regulus bicker as they lean against one another, and you like seeing Lily press her nose to her baby’s. You wonder what that feels like. How soft is a small nose? What does it feel like to hold the person you made out of love and a little bit of every part of you in two hands?

You’re still so lonely it’s palpable. There are moments throughout the day where you can’t face it head on, but the support group is genuinely helping, if it’s just to spend an hour outside of your head.

Lonely, and with nobody to confide in.

Remus watches you think for a while. He’s waiting patiently for you to speak again.

“Can I tell you something stupid?” you ask softly.

“Sure.”

“Don’t laugh at me.”

“I doubt I could.”

You let out a deep sigh. He’s all browns tonight in his old jacket. Brown hair, brown eyes, brown jacket. “I was thinking about keeping the baby. I don’t know if you’d consider it a baby right now,” you murmur, staring at the corner of his mouth, “but I think I want it to be one. And I can’t stop thinking that it’s a bad idea.”

“It’s your decision,” Remus says. When you sigh, he looks chastened, and you hadn’t wanted it to be a chastening. He clears his throat. “You already know that, don’t you?” Not expecting an answer, he leans back in his chair and levels you with a smile more friendly than you deserve. “Keep your baby if you want to, lovely. The point of– Well, of having the choice, is being allowed to choose yes, to choose to keep your baby, even if it’s a bad idea. Or looks like one.”

“I know, but…”

But it’s a bad idea. But it happened because somebody hurt you. But you’re completely alone.

“I’m not upsetting you, am I?” he asks.

“No, you’re not. You’ve been really nice to me,” you mumble, letting your aching eyes close as you lean into your hand. “It’s not you.”

Remus settles for a few seconds. “Can I put my arm around you?” he asks finally.

“Okay.”

So he does. His voice drops to match your own, his elbow right between your ribs as his thumb skirts across the top of your shoulder, “I’m sorry I can’t fix it for you, I wish I could tell you what to do that’s going to make you the happiest. I can’t, though.”

“I know.”

He rubs your shoulder. “I know you know.”

There’s a lot to think about. You aren’t pregnant by a miracle. Something bad happened to you, and the choice is yours now to take, and no one would blame you for wanting to forget the whole thing. At least, nobody here at the support group would. It’s not like you haven’t thought about it; lately, it’s the only thing on your mind. But the guilt of wanting it won’t go away.

“Sorry you have to do this again,” you mumble.

“What, give you a hug?” Remus’ voice turns softer. It feels less like the kind words of a stranger and more like a friend. “I don’t mind it.”

You try to stop feeling guilty. The most you can be right now is looked after, at least for a while, for as long as Remus will hold your shoulders.

“It’s not your fault,” Remus says. “You know that, too, I’m guessing. What happened to you wasn’t your fault.”

You’re not so sure. It’s a different guilt to look at in whatever light finds you when it happens. “I know,” you say, half a lie.

“And I know you have no reason to trust us with something so huge, but we’re here for you. That’s the whole point of the group.”

You sigh heavily. “I know,” you say under your breath. You’re just not sure it’s going to be enough.

𖦹

hi thanks for reading the first part! this is a heavy one but it’s also a fic I’ve wanted to write for a long time, or rewrite <\3 some of you may have read my first go at this years ago and I’m hoping to tie in some of the old stuff but it’s also its own story hopefully, it’s shaping up well!

https://rapecrisis.org.uk rape crisis UK — they have a support line! and many many articles

information about rape crisis https://247sexualabusesupport.org.uk/faqs/

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #marauders era #remus x reader #remus x you #marauders #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin blurb #marauders x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #the marauders

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cordidy · 2 months ago

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Just needed to get this out of my head after Sylus's Myth so i hope you like it :)

TW : drunk MC, fluff, it's sad I guess ? No proof read cause i'm a savage, english is not my mother tongue

“......tail ?”

“What did you just say kitten ?” Sylus asked, gently patting the back on your thigh while steadying you on his shoulder as you exited the elevator together, .

At first he had been quite surprised to receive your call.

Even more so when you bluntly asked him if he would be ok playing bodyguard and keep an eye on you while you indulged in a night of carefree debauchery at the club but hey, who was he to judge ?

Besides, if you felt safe enough to be in such a vulnerable state around him, going as far as trusting him with your safety and your apartment key to make sure you would make it back safe and sound, he was not going to complain.

“I….I said…ooooh that spins…do…do you ever miss your tail ?” you repeated, your voice tired and slurred, words barely comprehensive despite your best effort.

Sylus couldn’t help the chuckle that came as you poked his lower back through his jacket.

You really were wasted…

But you had a good reason !

Your week has been shitty as hell.

Your nights were even worse lately, barely getting a couple hours of sleep only to wake up either with a sore throat, screaming or crying at something you could not recall.

And, on top of that, you were off duty as Zayne decided you needed a break and refused to sign your abilitation.

“Come on Zayne, look, I’m fiiiiiiiiine” you tried to convince him with a huge smile and so much concealer on your face you could open your own makeup shop.

“As your physician I cannot let you go on field with such results” he retorted not even looking away from your chart “You should be dead with such a high blood pressure”

“I’m a tough cookie !”

“And you’re going to have to stay in the jar until these get better. You’re not only a danger for yourself right now but also for your partner”

That was a low blow but he had a point.

Clearly, you needed a break, something to unplug your brain, something fun, a good night out to leave all your problems behind and get shitfaced to oblivion. What you did not need though was the unwanted attention a young woman alone at the club would probably get and, while you were very capable of handling those kinds of situations, you did not really want to have to be on the lookout constantly or end up in a cell for assault.

You tried Tara, back to her family for the Holidays.

Simone ? Night shift.

Xavier….doing God knew what God knew where….

So, with a heavy heart you picked up your phone and called your secret weapon…

“Not necessary,” Sylus finally answered in a calm, composed voice, as he opened your apartment door, being extra careful as to not bump you in the doorframe. Based on the current humming coming from you right now and your kicking feet, your head was already going to kill you tomorrow.

Better not add “commotion” to the list of your impending issues.

“To be honest, being half human half cat was quite annoying” he admitted, walking you toward your bedroom to tuck you into bed. “I don’t like not being in control of myself and beside, it was bad for business to be away from the N109 zone for so long...although…I kind of enjoyed having to hide here and spend time with you…” he added with his signature smirk, poking your side before tossing you onto the bed, making you giggle like an idiot as you plopped on your back. It was the first time you allowed him into your room and, although he did plan on being a gentleman despite what you could think of him when sober, he couldn’t help the loving smile on his face as he watched you mumble something about a potato bag while fighting with your plushies for room.

“I miss you tail” you retorted in your drunk voice, closing your eyes in hopes it would help with the dizziness while Sylus started to remove your shoes and socks.

“I quite remember you telling me how insufferable it was” the man said in a collected tone while making his way to the kitchen once he was done.

“Yeah but it was sooooo pretty…I miss how you used it to grab me with it and…and toss me around ! That was funny !” you laughed, mimicking being tossed around like a ragdoll in the middle of your plushies as Sylus was coming back in your room, a glass of water in his hand.

He stopped in his tracks, a puzzled look on his face.

“I never use my cat tail to...toss you around” he corrected. His Evol, yeah, on a daily basis at some point actually, just to annoy you and enjoy those little lovely sounds coming from your mouth, threats mostly.

He had not been able to use it at all during the time those damn kittens from Hell had turned him into one of them though.

Your foggy brain did not hear him though and just kept mumbling in your drunken state, propping yourself on your elbows, trying to focus your gaze on him.

“You would think scales are cold and harsh…” you started, raising a finger to look all serious before falling back onto your pillow, not registering the look of surprise on his usually steady face.

“Kitten wh…” his voice was faltering as he looked at you getting all comfy like you had not just shaken his world upside down with your words.

“...but it was sooooo soft and sooooo warm…” you continued, grabbing your pillow to hold on tight as if you were looking for said warmth.

Your voice was starting to fade as sleep was settling in.

“...felt safe when you wrapped it around me…I kept holding mine to sleep after…but…”

The glass in his hand fell to the ground, shattering as he froze in place, eyes wide open in shock.

“…it was not…not the same…” you mumbled before losing consciousness, your body going limp against your pillow, before starting to snore.

______________________________________________________________ Pssssst, you liked it ? P2 is already up here :) https://www.tumblr.com/cordidy/770227784125677568/a-few-days-ago-i-wrote-this?source=share

#sylus x mc #l&ds sylus #lnds sylus #sylus x reader #l&ds sylus x reader #lads sylus #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace #lads fanfic #sylus fluff #sylus angst

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jungwnies · 2 months ago

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wreckage - charles leclerc

୨ৎ : pairing : charles leclerc x wife!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : after a heated argument with charles, you watch in horror as his car crashes during a race

୨ৎ : genre : angst ୨ৎ : tws : car accident/injury, arguments/conflict, anxiety/panic, trauma, medical trauma. ୨ৎ : wc : 1318

part one | part two | part three | part four

They say life can change in the blink of an eye. One second, everything feels steady, solid, like the ground beneath your feet couldn’t possibly give way. And then it does. Maybe that’s the irony of it all—you never see it coming. Not really. You think you’re prepared, think you’ve braced yourself, but you’re never quite ready for the moment it all falls apart.

You fought this morning. Not just a little spat about something trivial—no, this was one of those fights that echoed louder than it should have. The kind that lingered, thick in the air, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth even hours later.

It wasn’t about anything catastrophic, either, but somehow, with Charles, the small things had a way of snowballing. His schedule. Your schedule. The time you didn’t have together. The things he didn’t say and the things you did.

“I’m trying, okay? You think it’s easy for me?” he’d snapped, his accent sharpening the edges of his words. “You know what this life is like.”

“Yeah, Charles, I do. But I also know you don’t get to use it as an excuse every single time something gets hard. I’m here, too, and I’m trying to make this work just as much as you are.”

His jaw had tightened, his gaze flickering to the ground before meeting yours again. “Sometimes it feels like no matter what I do, it’s never enough for you.”

You’d felt the sting of those words, like a slap across the face. But you weren’t one to back down, not even when the weight of his frustration pressed heavy on your chest.

“You don’t get to say that to me, not when I’m the one waiting, worrying, wondering if this is ever going to feel… stable. Do you know how hard it is to love someone who’s never really here?”

The silence that followed was deafening, his features a mix of hurt and anger, like he didn’t know which to lean into more. And then he’d said it.

“Maybe it’s hard because you don’t trust me enough to believe that I’m doing my best.”

You hadn’t answered, and maybe that was the problem. The fight ended there, not because either of you wanted it to but because there was no time to fix it. Not when he had a race to prepare for, and you had to pretend like none of this was tearing you apart from the inside out.

When you arrived at the paddock, it felt impossible to mask the weight of the argument. You greeted a few people with forced smiles, but you could see some of them watching you a little too closely. It didn’t help that Charles seemed just as tense, his jaw set and his usual ease nowhere to be found.

Carlos was the first to pull you aside, his brown eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned closer. “¿Qué pasa, eh? You look like someone stole your churros, and Charles… well, he looks worse. What happened?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “It’s fine.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Amiga, por favor. I know you, and I know him. Whatever this is, it’s not nothing.”

You sighed, glancing over your shoulder where Charles was talking to his engineers. “We just… had a fight this morning. It’s not a big deal.”

Carlos gave you a skeptical look. “Not a big deal? You’re both walking around like someone cancelled Christmas. If you’re not okay, neither is he. You should talk to him before the race.”

You hesitated, the memory of this morning’s argument still fresh in your mind. “I don’t want to distract him. He needs to focus.”

Carlos clicked his tongue, shaking his head with a small smile. “Tch. If you think he’s focusing now, you’re wrong. You being upset is a bigger distraction than anything else. Go.”

Reluctantly, you nodded and made your way toward Charles. He was still in deep conversation with one of his engineers, but when he saw you approaching, his expression softened—just slightly.

“Hey,” you said quietly, folding your arms across your chest.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice lower than usual. There was a pause, the tension between you lingering like a storm cloud.

“Good luck out there,” you finally said, your voice steadier than you felt. “I mean it. Be safe.”

Charles studied you for a moment, his green eyes searching yours. Then he nodded. “And… I’m sorry. For earlier.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, someone called for him, signaling it was time to get ready. He gave you one last look, then turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with words unsaid.

The race began, and for a while, the roar of engines and the blur of cars distracted you. Charles was in good form, holding his position, making clean overtakes. You found yourself exhaling with relief every time his car flashed across the screen.

But then it happened.

It was almost too fast to comprehend. One moment, Charles was rounding a corner, perfectly in control. The next, there was smoke, debris, and the sickening crunch of metal against metal.

Your heart stopped.

The commentators’ voices rose in panic, their words a jumbled mess that barely registered in your mind. “Oh no, that’s Leclerc… that’s a big one.”

Everything else faded—the noise of the crowd, the hum of your thoughts—until all that remained was the image of his car, mangled and still.

“Red flag,” one of them said, and that’s when it hit you. They’d stopped the race. It was bad.

Your hands trembled as you gripped the edge of the table, your breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.

The minutes crawled by like hours, every second another layer of dread settling in your chest. You kept your eyes glued to the screen, desperate for any sign, any update, anything to tell you he was okay.

When they finally cut to the scene, you saw the medics surrounding his car, moving quickly but carefully.

“He’s conscious,” one of the commentators said, and you felt a rush of air leave your lungs, but it wasn’t enough. Not until you saw him. Not until you heard him.

You thought back to the fight, to the last thing he said to you, and it made you sick to your stomach. This couldn’t be the last memory you had of him, the last words you exchanged. It couldn’t.

You were already reaching for your phone, dialing his team, someone, anyone who could give you more than the vague reassurance of the broadcast.

“Please,” you whispered, the word barely audible over the pounding of your heart. “Please let him be okay.”

It’s strange, how quickly everything can unravel. You think you’ve got it all figured out, that the argument was just another bump in the road. But in the back of your mind, there’s always that voice whispering, telling you that things might never be the same.

And now, with every second that ticks by, your thoughts spiral, faster and faster, until you can’t breathe. What if this is it? What if those were the last words you ever said to him?

You close your eyes, trying to steady yourself, but all you can see is that image of his car, broken and still. Your pulse races. You told him you loved him today, but did he really hear you? Was he ever truly certain, or was that last moment of tension, the words left unsaid, enough to make him doubt everything?

You hate this. You hate the fear gnawing at you. You hate that you're sitting here, helpless, as he’s out there fighting for his life. That feeling of powerlessness—it’s unbearable.

Please, you think again, clutching the phone like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality. Please, don’t let this be the end.

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beloveds-embrace · 2 months ago

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Fuck it, we ball, I hope that disrespectful anon gets hemorrhoids and they can't get them removed until next year, AND that their insurance doesn't cover it. I'm here thinking about your Omega idea where omegas normally do the pursuing, but with a slight twist; the boys being the omegas. An alpha who is for sure down bad for the boys, but thinks "ah, theyre out of my league, I should be aiming lower, manage my expectations". Only 141 is just as down bad for them, and they're doing everything just short of screaming "PICK UP ON THE HINTS, COME INTO OUR HOUSE AND BEDS AND LIVES AND STAY FOREVER PLEASE"

Johnny is about to say fuck decorum and just show up in reader's house wearing nothing but a ribbon and a tag that says 'free to a good home' (your home is the good one, please keep him, there is no receipt so you can't return him).

Price has the brain cell normally in terms of trying to gently coax you into getting you to say you're into them, he has a 15 step plan that may or may not involve using his various contacts to get you spending more time in close proximity to them. Also he for some reason is always baking, he always comes over asking you for sugar? (He'll take any kind of 'sugar' you're willing to offer, he loves making a variety of cream pies)

Gaz is always gently inviting them to attend 'friend' things, things that could be a date but that he can excuse as 'well we're coworkers/friends/neighbors, we should get along :)'. It's just a coincidence that various other people seem to bail except for any of the other boys, now why don't you sit beside him so you guys can share popcorn at the movies (you both always seem to be reaching for it at the same time, if your fingers touched anymore you might as well be holding hands)

Simon is chasing off any omegas he thinks are a threat to them getting reader, that is THEIR alpha, paws OFF (rip to anyone reader was halfheartedly going on dates with, this man is gonna become those people's sleep paralysis demon)

Hope you enjoy!! :3 💕💕 i lovedddd writing this sm omg

See, the thing is, you’d always thought of yourself as a decent Alpha. Not overbearing, not egotistical, not a demanding freak- just capable and steady. But you weren’t extraordinary. Not the kind of Alpha Omegas like them would look at twice. And so, while you worked alongside the men of Task Force 141 you convinced yourself to be content with just admiring them from a distance.

You couldn’t help it. They were perfect, as far as you were concerned. Perfect, and fully out of your league.

Surely, Omegas like them would want someone better. Someone stronger. You’d told yourself that so many times it was practically your mantra, the only way you’d be able to stop yourself from pursuing them. They deserved someone more charismatic, more confident- an Alpha who could match their brilliance. Not someone like you, fumbling through conversations with them, struggling to keep your feelings in check.

But they’d already decided. They didn’t need a flashy Alpha or someone who tried too hard. What they wanted was you. The only problem? You didn’t seem to realize it, no matter how obvious they made it.

John took the lead, naturally. He knew you were cautious and perhaps a little insecure when it came to relationships (it was fucking visible in you, silly Alpha. He scoffs each time you draw back, frustrated), so he made it his mission to draw you in- slowly and subtly. His plan was meticulous: get you comfortable, build trust, and create opportunities for you to spend more time with them so you’d see that they only want you.

Maybe then you’d break out of that stupid shell you’ve put yourself in.

He’d started baking regularly, a habit you hadn’t even known he had. At least once a week, he’d show up at your place with a tin of cookies, a loaf of fresh bread, or a perfectly golden pie. “Thought I’d share,” he’d say casually, though the slight smirk tugging at his lips told a different story. He peers at you, letting his scent coil just a bit more. “I hope you don’t mind the amount of cream. I happen to like cream pies a lot.”

The way to an Alpha’s heart is through their stomach, and all that.

If he wasn’t offering you baked goods, he was asking for your help to make said baked goods. “Ran out of sugar again,” he’d sigh, handing you an empty container. “Mind sparing a bit?”

It was ridiculous, downright unbelievable how often he supposedly ran out of baking supplies. But his visits became a highlight of your week, and the lingering looks he gave you left your heart pounding long after he was gone.

The one time he’d handfed you, watching you lick the syrup from his fingers with half-lidded eyes, still lives in your mind rent-free.

Kyle took a softer, more personal approach. He wasn’t above using the pretense of friendship to spend time with you, often inviting you to casual dates- grabbing coffee, going to the movies, or just walking through town and shopping. Every invitation was framed innocently, but there was always a little extra effort behind it. He’d pick a movie he knew you’d like, suggest places he knew you’d find interesting, and ensure that others you unfortunately knew joined just enough to make it seem less like a date.

Somehow, though, those other people always mysteriously canceled. It was never anything dramatic- just a sudden cold, a scheduling conflict, or a “something came up, sorry.” Eventually, it would be just you and a very smug Kyle, sitting close enough that your knees brushed or reaching for popcorn at the same time. Once, right as the bowl emptied and you both reached for it, Kyle simply thought fuck it and held your hand.

On one occasion, you both shared a bowl of spaghetti and ended up with the scene from the Lady and the Tramp.

It was so painfully obvious to everyone.

Except you.

“It’s not a coincidence,” Kyle muttered to Johnny one evening after you left, both of them sitting in the spot you were in, bathing in the leftover warmth and scent. “How can they not notice?”

Speaking of Johnny; he’s barely keeping himself together. Subtlety in missions are a must sometimes, but he doesn’t want to that with you anymore. He was just so, so, so frustrated with your obliviousness. What more does he need to do to show you that he- that they- want you?

He’s been dropping so many hints; half-jokes about Omegas waiting begging to be swept off their feet, suggestive winks when you compliment him in that lovely, adoring tone of yours. Once, while watching a romantic tv show, he’d sighed loudly and very pointedly said: “If only someone would claim me.”

“If ye don’t figure it out soon,” he growled at the others one night, pacing back and forth like a wild beast and probably on his way to leave a dent in the carpet, “I’m showin’ up at their doorstep with nothin’ but a red bow, like some bloody Christmas prezzie, I swear to god.”

John sighs, rolling his eyes. “You do that, and I’m leaving you on their porch.”

“That’s exactly what I’m askin’ for!”

Simon took the quietest but most direct approach. Just not exactly direct towards you. While the others worked to get closer to you, Simon focused on eliminating what he saw as obstacles: other Omegas who thought you were free for the taking. It didn’t matter if they were serious or just someone you’d gone on a casual date with- Simon saw them all as threats.

He didn’t have to say much to scare them off. A single cold glare from across the room, sharp bursts of his scent, or a low, menacing comment was usually enough to send them packing. He didn’t care if it was excessive.

You were his Alpha. You were their Alpha, and no one else had a right to you.

But even Simon softened when it came to you. He couldn’t put all his thoughts, all his feelings into words, so he did them with his actions. Quiet protectiveness, gentle, careful touches. Moments of fleeting vulnerabilities shared between you and him.

He was always there for you. Even if you didn’t know you need him with you.

Still, despite all their efforts, you remained convinced that they weren’t interested.

In the end, to no one’s surprise, it’s Johnny who snaps. Johnny, so close to his heat, so absolutely done with your obliviousness and the Omegas that aren’t them talking with you when you should be only focused on them.

He doesn’t care; leaves the carefully made nest with your stolen shirts and none of the others stop him when he just. Drags your surprised self to the nest.

“Johnny! You-“

“I want you.” He hisses, bares his teeth all sharp and desperate. “We want you. And damn it, we will have you.”

And well, who are you to even say no when this is all you have wanted?

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lovegasmic · 1 year ago

Text

THE BEAST

⋆ wriothesley + fem!reader

( girl u in jail what did you doooo? /j it's not mentioned you probably stole a fonta idk )

⋆ mdni. heat cycles, knotting, praising, he fucks u hard rip that pussy. pet names: good girl, baby. reposting the fic I'm most proud of.

"you shouldn't be here"

"if you hate me that bad then…"

there's a chuckle resonating through the walls, metal rings around fingerless gloves clicking against the metal railing as the Duke makes his way down the stairs and next to you.

still at your side the man was a couple inches taller than yourself, bringing a slight feeling of nervousness around your body, or perhaps it was a natural response to the 'tiny' crush you had on him.

"your imprisonment is over, you're free to leave this place" Wriothesley mentions, arms crossed, eyebrows furrowing with a hint of scolding in his words to which you only shrug in return.

"i like to help Sigewinne in the infirmary" that wasn't a complete lie, but part of the reason for your continuous presence in such a place was due to the dark haired man currently standing next to you, whose presence was enough to get your knees weak and heart pumping wildly.

"mhm, I don't believe you" he mentions dully, fingers rubbing on the bridge of his nose yet his lips held a small smile on them, "I just wanted you to know I'll be out for a couple of days, a week at max"

"what?" you let out a high pitched sound, even though his erratic schedule wasn't news for anyone around, a week was far longer than any of his other absences.

"don't worry, Clorinde will drop by to check everything is in order" you stiff a huff, if anything, you weren't to admit the prison was the least of your worries.

"take care" was the only thing you managed to say. his hand felt heavy on your shoulder once he replied with a soft "you too"

a day passed and you already felt as if your 'not' lover left for war. the fortress remained the same as well as your usual activities at the infirmary, but the emptiness Wriothesley left alongside the usual meetings for tea and having lunch at the cafeteria started to burden.

but, on the other hand, a sense of pride bloomed in your chest since many of the guards went to find you and ask for advice regarding the fortress, quoting to their own sentences, you were the one his grace trusted the most.

"I am very sorry to bother you miss" one of the man said, "but since the Duke is out and miss Clorinde is still left to come back we decided it will be the best if you knew beforehand" strange rumors started to raise ever since Wriothesley left, some kind of 'beast' was heard from one of the pipes, and even though many guards already searched for clues, nothing was found.

"it's fine" you sighed, "please warn everyone to stay away from that place, at least until this issue gets fixed.

"it will be alright" Sigewinne smiles your way, trying to get your nerves on check while bandaging a man's scratched forearm, a match just took place due to the sudden influx of injured men, luckily no one was in mortal danger, but it was enough to keep you busy until your work hour was over.

but you should have expected that what the guard mentioned earlier was to keep you awake all night, to drag you out of bed and sneak past whoever was on patrol duty that night.

the mentioned zone was clear, no guards or prisoners looking for a challenge with an unknown danger, but especially, no sound besides the occasional water drop hitting a puddle on the floor.

another thing was the cool and smooth metal panels covering the walls, where your fingers slid trying to find any clue, knuckles hitting the material and ear pressed to find any possible hollow area.

and for what it felt like an eternity later, you heard a soft growl from behind the wall, right where your ear was pressed against.

you gasped by consequence, failing to stiff the sound so whatever was on the other side didn't hear you.

apparently, it did, since the growling stopped completely at the same time your back turned to flee and warn anyone nearby, as soon as your foot took a step, a hand covered your mouth and dragged you into some kind of dim lighted room before the door closed right in front of you, it was rough and calloused, and you could've had recognized it in the spot if it weren't because of the fear surrounding your whole body and freezing you in place.

"calm down" a voice rasps in your ear, an incredible mix of emotions running through your body in just a couple of seconds, starting with confusion since you were certain that was Wriothesley 's voice, passing to worry as to why is he in such place and lastly, flustering at the feeling of something poking on your lower back, his arms and chest warm and bare against your body.

"Wriothesley…" you pant once his hand leaves your mouth, "what is going on?"

he exhales heavily, letting you free from his embrace way too quickly for your liking, but allowing your eyes to take in his scar covered chest, drops of sweat dripping down his forehead and dampening the dark fabric of his half buttoned pants, and oh… he was hard. painfully you might add with how his trousers seemed to be about to burst.

"I'm sorry, I should have told you sooner" he starts and you think it should be you apologizing for thinking lewdly of him, "but you have to go"

"what?"

"it's not safe for you to be here" the man grits his teeth, backing up until the back of his knees touch a bed you failed to notice before, sitting on it with no care while his hands are in fists, tight enough to turn his knuckles white.

the threatening growl from man makes you flinch slightly, yet that doesn't stop you from taking a step closer, bared teeth with a single fang peeking from his bottom lip that buries in the lower until a single bead of blood pops up.

"tell me what's going on" you whisper in a slightly demanding tone, your relationship was close enough to mess and joke around, but watching him in this situation, and that he was so hesitant to speak broke your heart.

"i—" he swallows hard when you're close enough to smell your scent, a brief and almost imperceptible hint of arousal clouding his brain and stealing a hiss against his will.

unaware of the situation, thinking Wriothesley is in serious pain, you decide to rest a hand at the top of his shoulder, a friendly motion he often did with you but now, he just wanted to pull you by that hand and kiss you until you ran out of breath.

"I..." he starts again, gently holding your wrist and bringing it up to his mouth, smiling when you shiver visibly, "I go through heats, once every a couple of months"

"oh"

he chuckles, warm and genuine, raising his head to observe your expression, leaving you with shaky knees, his bright blue eyes a tone darker, hair damp and messy, inviting you to thread your fingers on it and kiss him stupid.

"that's why you're not safe here" the Duke whispers, still with his lips against your growing pulse, "I've been dying to rip your clothes off ever since I saw you, now it feels like I'd definitely die if I don't touch you in the next five minutes"

you gasp, surprised and turned on before replying, "make it one" and in the blink of an eye you're kissing him, hard and desperate while your body melts against his, pliantly letting him drag you down and sit you in his strong thigh where you're quick to grinding against, sloppily like the kisses you share.

"fuck" he growls and you moan, allowing his tongue to slip past your mouth while his thumbs press tight on your jaw, opening for a better reach while you can only take it and claw onto his nape.

his knee bucks up in a steady rhythm, one of his hands sneaking below your skirt, all the way up from your bare thighs to your soaked panties, "you're wet, I can smell it"

a pained moan escapes your lips, face burning in embarrassment but the look on his face is rewarding enough, pupils blown out, lips red and puffy letting out breathy exhalations. you barely get enough time to observe him before your eyes shut unconsciously at the feeling of a pair of rough fingers coming in contact with your clit through the flimsy underwear fabric.

"can I… please…?"

"yeah" you gasp, earning a whine from the man right onto your neck where he's nibbling, quickly getting rid of your skirt and half ripping your panties in the process, his pants get undone next, enough to fit his cock between your dripping folds flicking your clit with the engorged cockhead before pressing into your tight cunt.

he's big, bigger than you had imagined during sleepless nights of you touching yourself, but you're incredibly wet and doing your absolute best in taking a fat cock.

"oh fuck…!" you mewl, pressing your chin to the side of his head while Wriothesley continues to bite on your shoulder, careful not to pierce the skin as his hands find place on your hips, busy pushing your body down to take him whole.

"take it" he exhales, "I know you can take it, baby" and you whimper at the praise, thighs shaking from the stretch. his breath is hot against your collarbone, hips rolling forward that causes his cock to rub against the firm spot inside your cunt that leaves you limp, tugging your shirt from above your head so his hands freely get to palm at your tits once he's fully bottomed out, giving you a moment to adjust while he plays with your nipples.

"there we go" Wriothesley pants, hips snapping forward to fuck you deep, clutching onto the back of your head next to press his mouth against yours, bouncing your body up and down his cock in increasing speed.

"shit, shit!" Wriothesley groans, hips stuttering before stopping almost completely in what felt an attempt of self control, his tip coating your insides with immense amounts of precum, making you wonder just how much cum he actually held in those heavy balls that smacked against your ass in loud papping sounds.

"Wrio, you don't have to hold back" you whine through bitten lips, cupping his cheeks between your hands. and the moment where Wriothesley snaps will get forever burnt in your brain, starting from the deep rumbling groan, the twitch of his cock messily ruining your inside with hard precise thrusts, to the sudden movement of your whole body where he pins you down in bed, face down against the pillow with his hand pushing between your shoulder blades, ass up, face down while he successfully mounts you from behind.

his fat cock glides easily past your tight entrance, soaked in slick at the same time his thumb finds a place between your teeth, rubbing on your tongue the tangy taste of your slick.

"stay still" he grunts, dropping his forehead down between your shoulder blades while feeding your pussy the rest of his cock, "you smell so fucking good" Wriothesley is a mess of grunts and hisses, spreading out your ass cheeks to fit in properly inside your tight cunt, loving how the squelching sound comes louder in this position.

"too deep!" you scream, thighs shaking from the forcefully stretch of your walls around his cock.

"it's okay" he slurs, fingers pressing on your forehead to push you head up and kiss your temple, yet his hips continue to piston inside of you, dragging in your body with his on top of the mattress, his knees on each side of your thighs to perfectly fuck into you, driving his tip almost at your cervix with each thrust, "I got you, you're fine"

"Wrio" you sob, "feels so good"

"I know, baby, in know" he chokes out, eyes closed shut while pants escape freely between skin slapping, "you take it so good, my good girl, all mine"

"o-oh!" you whine, "Wrio please, you're so big, oh my god"

"don't say that" he grits, hips stuttering and pushing onto your waist so he gets to reach in much deeper than before, "I'm going to come soon"

"ngh" you moan, toes curling and pussy clenching.

"can I knot you?"

"yes" you reply way too quickly, digging your nails onto the sheets, pillow drenched from sweat and tears, "yes, please"

Wriothesley moans like a wounded animal, fucking you like one too with his hands on your head, pushing you down as if to submit you to him.

you can feel him twitching again, cunt fluttering in sync, clenching and begging to be filled with a scream of your own while you cum all over his cock, gasping loudly when his knot begins to push past your tight entrance.

"W-Wrio—" you sob.

"yes, I'm here, it's alright you can take it" he thumbs your clit, helping you ride out your high while his knot gets snuggled inside your cunt, digging his nails on the skin of your thighs while rutting into you, long and thick spurts of cum coating your walls.

"fuckin' perfect pussy, taking all of my cum" he groans, panting loudly and jerking his hips until every single drop of cum is stuffing your hole.

"are you alright?" he asks once you've calmed down, turning your body around to let you cuddle against his broad chest.

"yeah" you sniffle, overwhelmed.

"I forgot to ask how did you find me" the man grins, rubbing his cheek against the top of your head.

"people heard you growling like a beast" you sniffle again.

"... what?"

and you should have told him earlier, since you were certain now people might think that said beast was just some horny dog.

#genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fanfics #genshin wriothesley smut #genshin wriothesley #genshin impact wriothesley smut #genshin impact wriothesley #wriothesley smut #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley #lovegasmic writes wriothesley

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luvismenu · 4 months ago

Text

their first time fucking —

⋆˚࿔ fuckboy!jungkook 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ extra ࣪ ִֶָ☾. written, nsfw

series m.list

♡ — permanent taglist: @https-mei @blaricee @blluee28 @jkvias @jksctrl @ari420sstuff @wnteraezz @letmekookk @whoa-jo @wobblewobble822 @jkslvsnella @clxssy1997 @nikkinikj @kayleesaltzmann @rrosiitas @naurnonope @lola75111 @somehowukook @redcherrykook @parkinglot-nights @deluluisdasolulu @minghaosimp @hyeon-yi @ririkookiemonster @svtrighthereworld @jmscaffeine @trinityxsope @taetaecatboy @butnotmontana @joyofbebbanburg @elinaki92 @sweetmimosa28

“are you sure about this?”

“yes, like i said, go slo— i told you to go slow jungkook!”

“oh fuck-”

“you ruined it!!!” you exclaim as you watch jungkook lose a game that the two of you have been playing for the last 30 minutes. well, he's the one playing and you're kind of.. helping.

you wanted to play, but he insisted he wanted to play alone because you're a 'nerd' and couldn't play as well as he could—which earned him a smack on the head from you.

“i told you, you have to wait until the monster appears,” you huff, and he slumps back into the couch.

“okay, expert, whatever,” he shrugs.

“yeah, whatever,” you roll your eyes.

jungkook relaxes into the couch, his head thrown back as he groans, “where is this mother fu—”

ding!

“i think you got a text,” you say, glancing at his phone on the small table beside the couch.

“oh, you think so?” he mocks, and you glare him.

hoseok invited you for your usual study session. normally, you both would go to the library or the café he likes, which you didn't mind. today, though, he said he wanted to study at his frat house because it would just be the two of you.

and you couldn't miss a chance like that now would you?

but when you arrived, hoseok was nowhere to be found, and it was jungkook who let you in.

what a fun way to find out that all the fuckboys live in the same house.

jungkook told you that the other members were out doing what they usually do—things you'd rather not know about.

and now, you're just waiting for hoseok to come back.

“oh... okay,” jungkook says aloud as he sets his phone aside, turning to you.

“was it him? is he coming?” you ask.

“nah, he's getting wasted with the others, probably won't be back until.. i don't know, early morning i guess?” jungkook replies, “oh and i told him you were here. he said he's sorry that he forgot and told me to tell you to go home safe.”

you sulk at his words.

he notices.

“he... forgot?” you ask, your voice dropping.

“that's what he said. if you don't believe me, you can take my phone and see his texts.”

“no, no, i mean...” you sigh. “uh sorry, i should get going then.”

you stand up, grabbing your bag. but before you can take a step forward, jungkook speaks up.

“we can play another game if you want.”

you look at him. he holds up his controller, placing the second one beside him.

“together.”

“i am tired,” he groans, throwing the controller onto the couch as he walks toward the kitchen and you follow him.

“for a fuckboy, you have less stamina,” you joke.

“i was studying the whole day—”

you raise a brow.

“i know, yeah me, studying?? woah, impossible!!” he mocks himself, then continues more seriously, “trust me, i study.”

he grabs a can of beer from the fridge and closes it. “sometimes.”

you can't help but scoff a laugh.

“you don't have to explain yourself,” you say, crossing your arms as he takes a sip of the beer before responding.

“i know, but it's you i’m talking to, so—”

“what do you mean, me?”

he tilts his head. “aren't we friends?”

“yeah?”

he smiles. “then i gotta prove that i’m not as bad as you think i am.”

“i don't—”

“you do.”

you think for a second and sigh. “i do.”

that makes both of you chuckle.

“i think i should go now, it's getting late,” you tell jungkook, glancing at the clock on the wall. you walk toward the door, and he follows you.

“thank you for the ice cream,” you say, referring to the treat you had a few minutes ago.

“it's okay, it wasn't mine anyway,” he shrugs, and you gasp.

“what the fuck, why did you let me eat it then?”

“relax! it’s hoseok's. he wouldn't mind since he literally ditched you tonight,” he says, then realizes how it sounds as he sees the change in your expression. “i didn't mean—”

“no, it's okay. he did kind of ditch me, but it doesn't really matter. i can meet him some other time.” you smile, trying to ease the awkwardness.

you're kinda rethinking about getting fucked by him anyway.

“right...” he trails off.

you both stand there for a moment, the silence stretching between you before he breaks it.

“so, i guess i'll text— mmph.” and you do it again. you cut him off just like when you first met him, but this time, the kiss lasts longer.

“w-wait,” he breathes out as he pulls back, staring at you. “you wanna fuck?”

“well, i don't know—”

“why did you kiss me then?” he asks

you look at him. why did you kiss him?

because hoseok isn't available? no.

because you're desperate? ... you're not sure.

“i don't know…” you finally say.

he opens his mouth to say something but stops.

“i just wanted to,” you add, and he's visibly surprised.

“is that wrong?” you continue, your eyes searching his.

jungkook's gaze softens. “no,” he murmurs, leaning in closer, his voice barely a whisper. “but you don't like fuckboys and also we're friends—”

“yes, but tonight's different.” you say, reaching out to tug him back towards you, “you know, like a one time thing.”

he raises an eyebrow, his voice uncertain. “so, you wanna fuck and then wake up tomorrow like nothing happened? like we didn't do anything?”

you roll your eyes. “if you keep talking, we really won't do anything.”

“okay then final question, answer this with a yes or no” he says, his tone teasingly demanding, almost childish, and it makes you scoff a laugh.

“what?”

he smirks.

“wanna fuck?”

you smirk back.

“yes.”

───────── the wall ─────────

“o-oh fuck, jungkook, yes!” you moan out, your fingers tangled in his hair. his head is buried between your thighs, which are wrapped tightly around his neck. your hips are lifted, your back pressed against the wall as he stays on his knees.

he's been tongue-fucking you for a few minutes now, and you can feel yourself reaching the edge.

“mm, you taste so sweet.” he laps at your clit, sucking the sensitive bud between his teeth before releasing it with a pop. “i could eat this pretty cunt all day long.”

without warning, you cum on his mouth, your body shuddering as waves of pleasure course through you.

he swallows it all, his tongue still working on your sensitive pussy, making you squirm and whimper from the overstimulation.

slowly, he stands up as lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. he keeps you pressed against the wall, his hands gripping your thighs tightly as he looks at you as you're gasping for air, that cocky grin forming on his lips.

“you want me forreal.”

“are you kidding me? right now?” you can't believe he's saying that after you just came so hard. but maybe it’s because of the orgasm, because instead of getting annoyed, you find yourself laughing a little.

“you came so much so i—” you cut him off with a kiss, your lips crashing onto his as you taste yourself, sucking on his tongue to shut him up.

he pulls back just enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours.

“what's next, darling?”

───────── the floor ─────────

“t-that tickles,” you giggle when you feel jungkook softly rubbing your waist while his tongue laps at your right nipple.

“my tongue?” he asks, his eyes looking up at you as he moves to kiss your left nipple. you're both sprawled on the floor, his hands moving up and down your body as he hovers over you.

“your hands,” you gasp softly, taking in the warmth of his mouth on your skin.

“mmh,” he hums as his hands slide up, grabbing both of your breasts, squeezing them gently. you arch your back slightly when he squeezes them together, and he buries his face between them, licking and nipping at the soft flesh.

“can i suck your dick?” you say quickly, almost before thinking, and it makes jungkook pull back, looking at you in surprise. he clearly wasn’t expecting that.

“you wanna?” he asks, his eyebrows slightly raised.

“why do you look so surprised? never got your dick sucked before?” you joke, a grin forming on your lips as you see the stunned look on his face.

he rolls his eyes at you, his lips curving into a smirk. it's funny because it's usually you who’s rolling your eyes at him.

“just making sure,”

───────── the couch ─────────

“y-you're doing so good, f-fuck,” he groans, grabbing a fistful of your hair as you choke and drool on his cock. you're on your knees, gripping his thighs while he sits naked on the couch, his cock in your mouth.

his head falls back as he moans, and he bucks his hips up just slightly, pushing deeper into your throat.

he fucking loves this.

“mmfph-” you let out a muffled sound as your eyes start to water. he looks down at you, taking in the sight of you on your knees for him, your lips stretched around his length. reaching out, he wipes away a tear, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your cheek, his touch oddly tender given the situation.

“that's it, darling. you're being such a good girl,” he whispers, his voice barely above a breath but enough for you to hear. “sucking my cock and looking at me like that... you look so fucking pretty.”

you pull back just slightly, taking a quick breath before diving right back in. your head bobs up and down, your tongue gliding along the underside of his cock, taking him as deep as you can. each time you do, he lets out a low groan, his abs tightening.

“oh fuck, i'm close,” he grunts, his grip on your hair loosening and you pull back.

“can i-” he starts to ask, but you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out, and he curses under his breath.

he strokes himself a few times, his breath hitching, and then he releases, hot ropes of cum spilling onto your tongue. you keep your mouth open, letting him see before swallowing it all, licking him clean until there's nothing left. once you're done, you pull away, giving him a proud smile.

he chuckles, shaking his head slightly, clearly amused by your behavior.

“you're not what i expected,”

───────── bed ─────────

“did you fuck anyone here before?” you ask as you look at jungkook between your legs. your thighs are wrapped around his waist, and your back pressed against the softness of his bed.

“no,” he says simply as he reaches over to grab a condom. “i don't bring girls here.”

“why not?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“because i'm never alone,” he explains, tearing the packet open with ease.

“but we're alone right now,” you point out, watching every one of his movements.

“i was supposed to go out with hoseok and the others, but i was tired, remember? so i stayed in. and honestly, i'm glad i did that.” he rolls the condom onto his length.

you smack his shoulder playfully, and he lets out a soft chuckle.

“now, are you really sure about this?” he asks, his hands gently gripping your hips, holding you steady.

“for the tenth time, yes, i am,” you respond, “like i said, it’s a one-time thing,” you remind him.

he gives a small nod, then grabs his cock, rubbing the tip along your wet folds, making you whimper at the feeling.

“just fucking put it in,” you breathe out,

he grins, leaning down just a bit closer. “say please, darling,”

“if you think i’m gonna beg for it, think again,” you say, your eyes narrowing at him.

he chuckles, shaking his head. “so bossy,” he mutters, and then, without further delay, he pushes his cock into you.

“f-fuck..” you bite down on your lower lip, your eyes squeezing shut as you feel him stretching you. the fullness is almost overwhelming, but there's a hint of pleasure there, building slowly.

he pauses for a moment, his gaze searching your face. “you okay, darling?” he asks, genuine concern in his voice.

“y-yeah,” you manage to say, breathing heavily. “it feels... bigger than i expected,” you admit, your cheeks flushing slightly.

his grin widens at that, and he starts to move, thrusting in and out of you in a slow, steady rhythm. normally, you'd have some sassy comeback for that look on his face, but right now, it feels too good to say anything at all.

no wonder women love him.

you came once.

“fuck— nngh y-yes!!” you cry out, the pleasure overwhelming as your body trembles around him.

“oh my go— i am— fuck!” jungkook moans, his head falling back onto the pillow as you ride him, your hips bouncing on his cock.

twice.

“you like that, hm? you like getting your pussy fucked from behind?” his voice is a growl as he grips your ass, pounding into you relentlessly. you’re on all fours, your moans mixing with the sound of skin slapping against skin. tears well up at the edges of your eyes, the pleasure bordering on too much, but you don’t want him to stop.

make it a third time.

“fuck..”

jungkook groans as he collapses onto the bed, his chest rising and falling as he tries to catch his breath, his eyes closed. exhaustion drips from his voice as he mumbles, “you’re such a freak.”

you sit beside him, still naked, your fingers lightly tracing patterns over his chest. “one more round?” you suggest, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

he chuckles, shaking his head. “yeah, right.”

you tilt your head, raising a brow at him, your expression almost challenging.

his eyes widen just a bit. “oh, you’re serious?” he asks, genuinely surprised.

you nod, shrugging slightly. “how are you not tired?” he breathes out, his voice laced with disbelief.

“i can take some more, i guess,” you say casually, though the glint in your eyes betrays your eagerness.

“i am sorry to disappoint, darling, but i think i am done for tonight.” he lets out a tired sigh, and he sees you pout.

“woah,” he murmurs, watching the way your lips form into a cute little pout. it’s endearing. he’s seen so many sides of you tonight—and now... this.

cute and.. whiny?

“pleaseee, jungkook, one more time!!” you whine, your voice soft and pleading, making his heart skip a beat.

he blinks, like he’s just seeing a new part of you, something he never expected. maybe it’s the endorphins, or just the moment—whatever it is, this side of you is cute, almost innocent in your need.

he likes it.

“how about this,” he says, a grin forming on his lips, “we take a shower, and maybe we can go for another round there, hm?”

“shower sex?” you ask.

he nods.

“no, it’s unsafe,” you respond immediately, shaking your head.

he sighs dramatically, his grin widening. “well then, no more sex for tonight,” he says, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “maybe some other night.”

you roll your eyes, huffing. “you wish”

he chuckles, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you close.

“i do.”

a/n: i hope it's not too confusing 😣

#jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #fanfic #jungkook smau #jungkook fic #smut #bts smut #jjk fic #jungkook fanfic #fuckboy jungkook

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inkskinned · 11 months ago

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okay if you're really cool about things, i can be honest with you. before you read further, decide if you're a girl's girl. if you're cool and actually cool or like not cool.

men don't talk in my book because i was fuckken tired of the way they're the center of every fucking story. i was tired of how every story takes a moment to let them talk. men can shut up for literally one fucking book.

unfortunately not everyone is cool. professionally what i usually say is i didn't want to add violence to the world. the only men in my book are abusers, so they don't get to talk. they don't get to take up space. they ruined my life, they don't get to have their words echo anymore.

because like, yeah! you find practically any story about a person surviving trauma and... there's a man at the center. men are often rescuing us from these things. a "good man" is always standing around, being a good man, proving to the victim that good men are the real men. that her experience was unique rather than universal.

the redacted text has not been taken well by all of my early readers. there is this weird, crouching growl that keeps occurring with men-of-a-certain-age. why don't we hear his side of the story?

when i sat down to write everything that happened to me, i couldn't look at the frank brutality of my abuser's words on a page and think to myself: i actually let him speak like that. i had to redact his words from the manuscript. i then left it redacted. no victim is going to read this book and hear the person who hurt them. it is a book for the victims to speak. abusers shut up challenge, forever. for eternity.

my father once told me, chuckling, i should just have a page of redaction where i let the man just finally talk. it is funny to joke about how we should make a whole page in my book about a man that hurt me. this was not the only time someone commented - it feels like you're hiding things. how do i know you're actually a victim if he doesn't get to speak?

there are books where women aren't even present. i even genuinely like some of those books. like, who doesn't like the hobbit?

i keep running into people defending this imaginary man. the default narrative is so true to some people that they will defend any man, just by virtue of the assumption - "if he's acting like that, you had to push him." certain people need definitive proof that you didn't accidentally make your partner into an abuser. they need to decide if you deserved it, because they want to be able to judge you.

which makes sense, i guess, from a hind brain perspective. if you can figure out "why" someone was cruel, you can protect yourself against it. if you defend the bully, the bully might side with you. i don't really know their explanation for feeling this about a character in a book. trust me, i wrote the guy. he is not going to protect you.

i guess i just - there was a time in my life where i desperately wanted anyone to defend me. where i could have really used someone saying holy shit are you okay instead of what did you say to make him act like that to you.

instead, over dinner, a friend-of-a-friend i just met is pouring herself wine. i heard you wrote a book, she says. she gives me the kind of chilly smile i associate with knives. i heard it's unfair to men.

#the author is nonbinary. don't get fucking weird.#btw if ur a woman and u do this u go to advanced special hell. like if u defend ab*sers at all #u dont get to pretend ur protected from being misogynistic. ur not. we all have internal work.#writeblr #i can't write lately wtf

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covenofagatha · 4 days ago

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A different kind of workout

Based on this brainworm (thank you worm anon)

Or: Agatha gets off to your voice while you're working out

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: g!p Agatha, desperate and horny and pervert Agatha, mentions of squirting, masturbation, daddy kink, light objectification, humping, voyeurism, praise kink

When you finally get downstairs after a slow morning, Agatha is already sitting in a barstool at the island in the kitchen. She’s absentmindedly watching something on her phone while spooning yogurt out of a container.

She looks up when you walk in, rakes her eyes over your gray sweatpants and white tank top, and smirks. Agatha is wearing a pair of navy pants and a green flannel, hair in a loose ponytail. “Morning, honey,” she purrs. “Where are you off to looking so delicious?”

You look down at your typical workout clothes and raise an eyebrow. “I have a private lesson.” Your job at the gym is only part-time, a way to get some extra cash so Agatha doesn’t have to pay for everything, but having to work on the weekend is unusual.

“Aw, baby, why not just blow it off?” Agatha pouts dramatically, reaching her hand out to wrap around your wrist and pull you to stand between her legs. She puts her arms around your waist and plants open-mouthed kisses on the bare skin of your chest. You let out a muffled moan and close your eyes, losing yourself in the feeling of her lips on you. “Why not blow me instead?”

“Agatha, I—“

“Come on, honey,” she says in a low, seductive voice, and goddammit, it almost works. You feel her cock twitch inside her pants against your upper leg. “I’ll cover the cost. I need you to help me workout.”

You hum and chuckle, wrapping your arms around her neck, sneaking a look at the clock on the stove over her shoulder. “Oh, yeah?” Agatha nods eagerly, hands sliding down to cup your ass and squeezes. “Well, I hate to break it to you, but I do need to get going. Maybe you should stretch a little so you don’t pull anything when I get back.”

Agatha snorts at your quip, but reluctantly lets you go so you can grab a protein shake from the fridge. “Fine, fine,” she acquiesces. “Have a good session. Call me when you finish.”

“Sure thing.” You press a kiss to her temple. “Change the sheets, will you?”

Last night, things got a little messy when Agatha had made you cum with her fingers, and then with her mouth, and then finally slid her cock into your pussy and angled your hips up and fucked you harder than she had in awhile with her hand around your throat and her mouth on your nipple.

She had pushed your legs even more wide and up and bit your shoulder and you had squirted everywhere after a particularly rough thrust, absolutely soaking yourself, her, and the bed. But you both had been so exhausted after the vigorous sex that she had pulled you to the other side of the bed, the unsoaked side, and you two quickly fell asleep in each other’s arms.

“Mm, you don’t want to keep them drenched?” Agatha teases and you roll your eyes playfully and fix her with a stern look. “I’ve got it, baby, go get your session done.”

Trusting her, you leave and drive the short seven minute drive to the gym. Your client is already there, and you lose yourself for the next hour in training him. He gets a personal best on bench press, so when you call Agatha in the locker room after, you’re giddy and you completely forgot what you asked her to do.

“It was so good!” you exclaim when she asks you how it went. “It took awhile for him to build up to it, so I didn’t get to get my workout in, but it was so worth it. He booked four more sessions with me and gave me a huge tip for getting him to a PR. Apparently he’s been stuck there for a while.”

There’s a muffled sound on the other side of the phone and you wonder if she’s even listening to you. But then the noise stops. “That’s awesome, baby, you’re such a good trainer. He’s lucky to have you. Although, you better get your workout in. Got to stay strong for me, hm?”

You huff, certain she’s up to something, and take off your sweaty tank top, leaving you in a sports bra and sweats. “What do you want me to do?”

“Better drop and give me as many push-ups as you can,” she says and you can practically hear her smirk through the phone.

Looking at the floor, you wrinkle your nose. There’s no way you’re getting on the dirty locker room floor, so you take a towel out and lay it on the bench. Elevated push-ups will have to do. “Is that all? Need me to count out loud for you?”

She hums thoughtfully. “How about…how about you say my name? After each one.”

Biting back a comment about how transparent she’s being, you get into position, your hands gripping the edge of the bench. “Did you change the sheets yet?” you ask, mentally preparing for the push-ups, possibly your least favorite exercise ever.

“I’m going right now,” she promises. “Better get on with it. Let’s see who can finish faster.” The innuendo goes straight to your cunt and you have to shake the sinking fog out of your mind before you start.

Down. Up. “Agatha,” you say.

Down. Up. “Agatha.”

You can hear a slight rustling from her end and you keep going. After about fifteen, your voice starts to get breathier, her name on your lips more of a whimper now, and she grunts.

Freezing, you strain your ears in case she makes another noise. She notices your silence and tsks to get you back on track and you do another push-up, this time, moaning, “Agatha,” as sultrily as you can. She sharply inhales before grunting louder and then her line goes quiet.

Did she — fuck. Your breathing starts to grow heavy and you do another one, saying her name in the same cadence. She fucking muted herself. Your breathy gasps are getting to her so much that she had to mute herself so you wouldn’t know that she’s most likely stroking her cock to your voice.

Your arms are on fire now, and so is your pussy, but you keep pushing because she might be getting off to it. “I’m getting closer, I don’t know how much longer I can go for,” you groan weakly, the same way you do when she overstimulates you.

“— oh, fuck, babygirl.” The words suddenly break through the phone, although sounding far away. Agatha must have accidentally unmuted herself.

This time, you have to stop and you quickly run to wash your hands and then open the camera app. The two of you have a blink camera set up in your bedroom just in case the two of you are ever in the mood to spice things up and record — it also does wonders for when one of you is away for work — but you can tap into it at any point.

You put the call on speakerphone and click on the video icon and your jaw drops.

Agatha is holding the wet sheet, so wet you can see the darkened gray fabric through the screen, up to her nose, and she’s taken her cock out of her pants, just holding it. She thrusts into her fist when she takes in the scent of your wetness that still stains the bed and lets out a guttural moan. You can see her phone tossed to the side of the bed.

Heat rushes through you and you say her name again, whining it in the husky tone that always drives her absolutely wild, and she pitches forward onto the bed, the hand holding her cock catching herself while she keeps the sheet against her nose.

“Need you so bad, babygirl,” she mumbles. “Need your hand, need your mouth, your tits — fuck, your cunt.”

You are so thankful that it’s Saturday morning at the gym and rarely anyone comes this early, because you can’t help but slide a hand into your sweatpants and rest it over your underwear. You’re content to just watch and listen right now, but you can feel yourself rapidly getting wetter.

She lowers her hips onto the bed, trapping her hard, red, leaking cock between the soiled part of the sheet and her stomach, digs her fingers into the side of the bed, and grinds. “Fuck, daddy needs you,” she babbles and you can’t stop the moan that tears itself out of your throat.

Agatha has never once brought up wanting to be called daddy, and you’ve never thought about it, but hearing her say it right now in this context — your clit pulses and now you can’t stop thinking about calling her anything else.

You’d say it out loud right now, partly to help her get off but also because it’s got you turned you on beyond words, but your throat is so dry the title won’t form.

“Such a good girl for daddy, so fucking hot, you feel so good around my cock,” she babbles, humping her hips faster, fingers scrambling for purchase so she can feel more, but then she stops and you almost whine.

She glances at her phone, as if to make sure you’re still there, and you swallow roughly. “Fuck, Agatha, I can’t take much more,” you whine, all high-pitched, and you watch her furiously grab your pillow, inhale it, and then shove it between her and the bed.

This time, you can’t resist sliding your underwear over and pressing two fingers against your clit and your whole body jerks. The relief washes over you and you frantically start to rub it when Agatha bunches up the pillow around her cock and grabs the sheet so roughly that it comes right off the bed.

“Oh, fuck — you’re daddy’s good girl,” she keens and you slide a finger into yourself, letting out a desperate sigh that you’re not even sure she hears. “Need you so bad, need to use you — fuck, you’re daddy’s perfect cocksleeve, my fucking fleshlight, you take me so well, need you so bad…”

She moves her legs under her so she’s kneeling and can fuck the pillow — your pillow — even harder and you shove another finger into your cunt and curl them, but it’s not enough. Only Agatha’s cock is enough to fill the gaping ache inside you.

Her nose is buried in the sheet and you wonder if she can even still smell you on it, but it’s clearly working for her because she sobs out a broken, strangled noise and grinds even faster. You match her thrusts with your own fingers, your palm bumping against your clit each time and you sink your teeth down into your bottom lip so you don’t make a sound.

“Daddy needs you, fuck baby, daddy’s gonna cum all over you,” she pants urgently before pushing herself up and grabbing her cock, stroking it madly, pointing it at your pillow, that is now covered in her precum, and pulls the still-damp sheet over it. She grunts and babbles something completely incomprehensible, and then five long strands of cum spurt out of her cock, her hand moving quickly up and down to pump it all out. Agatha groans loudly and continues fucking her hand and that’s it for you — you cum, your warm walls convulsing around your fingers and your clit spasms against your palm.

You manage to stay quiet, but you almost lose composure when Agatha takes in the absolute mess she just made once she takes her hand off of herself and one last load of cum weakly splatters out onto the pillow as she thrusts into nothing.

“Fuck,” she says softly, chuckling to herself while glancing at the phone, clearly proud of herself and thinking you’re completely in the dark.

But you’ve now recovered enough from your intense orgasm and you’re back to your usual bratty self. “So much for changing the sheets, daddy,” you muse and take way too much delight in how she stiffens. She grabs her phone and then looks at the camera, but there’s no missing the way her cock twitches.

“Did you—” She stops like she’s too embarrassed to finish the question and you nod smugly even though she can’t see you.

“I did. Why don’t you just leave the sheets for now? No point in changing them when we’re just going to ruin them all over again the second I get home. Right, daddy?”

She whimpers at the name and nods, grinding her already half-hard against nothing.

You might just need to throw out the sheets after.

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7 @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights @n3bula-cats

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha x reader #agatha x you #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness smut #agatha smut

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starlightkyeom · 2 months ago

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(not so) secret santa | jww

(where you think you're surprising your office crush and he's the one that surprises you)

pairing: wonwoo x reader genre: office!au/coworkers | straight fluff rating: e is for everyone (but this blog is still 18+) word count: ~1.8k warnings: mentions of eating/drinking? and an office holiday gift exchange, that's it

note: merry christmas @highvern! i just thought that you deserved a little treat since you worked so hard on the secret santa collab for @camandemstudios 💕 special thank you to @ugh-yoongi for the office crush concept and the recipe idea. also thank you to @gyuswhore for some brainstorming. i tried to keep to the collab guidelines but it's fine because it's not technically part of it. love you cam!

“Hao I need your help,” you say quietly to your work bestie.

Despite the hush of your voice, it seems to carry more than it should. Or maybe that’s just your nerves over what you’re about to ask. Minghao turns away from what he’s working on and raises one of his perfectly manicured eyebrows at you. He’s really got that down and you hate him a little for it.

“What could you possibly need now?” he asks with a sigh.

“It’s about the office gift swap,” you say, quieter still this time.

“Need a little pointer? Maybe some fashion advice?” he asks sympathetically and you swat at him. That makes him crack a smile where nothing else has.

“No, I need to trade,” you say.

This happens every year in the office. The picks are random and nobody is supposed to know. But, inevitably, several people end up swapping for a variety of reasons. Sometimes they’re looking for a specific person. Sometimes they have a present in mind and their current person won’t like it. It could be anything. This year, you’re the one that’s looking to swap and you’re kind of hoping your bestie won’t ask you exactly why.

“Who do you have?” he asks, which is a little surprising that he’s not asking who you want.

“Mina,” you say immediately. He might be a complete pain in the ass, but you know that you can trust him. Nobody knows more about what’s going on in the office than him and nobody keeps their mouth shut tighter.

Without another word, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper that you recognize as the slips for the gift swap. One hand holds the paper out to you while the other opens for you to deposit your own paper in it. You’re just confused looking at him because you haven’t said anything other than who you have.

“I don’t think you get it, I want…” you start and he cuts you out.

“Just take the paper and then see if you still need to say anything to me,” he says.

It’s unusual, even for him, yet you do as he says. You deposit the slip with Mina’s name on it into his hand and take his piece of paper. When you open it, somehow everything makes more sense. Kind of, at least. It’s the person you were actually hoping to get.

“How did you…” you ask, trailing off at the end.

“You’re not that subtle,” he says with his own version of an affectionate smile.

“Thanks, Hao. I owe you!” you say in a low voice.

“I’ll add it to your tab,” he says and turns back to his work.

The best part about the gift swap at your work is that it’s up to each person how they handle giving their gift. There’s no big party where everyone has to swap in front of everyone else. It’s a little non-traditional, but also helpful for people that are a little more introverted. Some people expressed it being easier to just leave the person’s gift at their desk instead of going through some whole big thing.

That suits you just fine. It gives you the opportunity to plan something a little more personal to exchange your gift. Which is how you end up at lunch on a day off with one of your coworkers and feeling a little awkward about the whole thing. You try to tell yourself that you’re confident and he is just a man. But, you also have the fattest crush on him and it makes you a little stupid. (A lot stupid, actually, but that’s your own business.)

Wonwoo comes walking in looking the coziest you’ve ever seen him. It makes you very glad that you got to the restaurant first because this is worth it. The smile on his face when he notices you is soft and it makes your heart skip a beat. He pushes up his glasses and shakes some snowflakes out of his hair. By the time he’s at the table, he’s removing his jacket to reveal a soft sweater. You take a minute to remind yourself that he’s just a man before putting the smile on your face. What’s even better, you don’t say anything stupid.

He lets you make it through ordering before he brings up the obvious. “I’m happy you asked me to lunch, but I was a bit surprised.”

You try to play it off and shrug a bit. “We haven’t gone out to lunch in a while like this and sometimes it feels like we have to rush during work. I just figured…”

“Why not ask me out to lunch to give me my Secret Santa gift?” he asks knowingly. You, being the coolest person in the world, choke on the sip of your drink that you take.

“What?”

“I was sure that Minghao had me because he was asking questions about gaming stuff and then Mina told me about the beautiful scarf that he got her.”

“And that means you think that I have you?” You’re not really sure you follow his logic even if he is right.

Wonwoo only shrugs. “He’s your best friend. I thought he was asking for you. Or maybe he had me and trade.”

“He did have you, but I wanted to switch,” you admit for some reason completely unknown to you.

“You did?” This seems to catch him off guard considering he seems two steps ahead.

Since he wants to bring it up now, you figure that you might as well give him his present. You pull the box out of your bag and hand it over to him. He eyes it for a second before reaching out to take it. His face looks adorably perplexed when he lifts it.

“This doesn’t feel like something gaming related,” he says finally.

You huff out with an eye roll. “Why don’t you just open it?”

He looks amused at your tone and goes to work at opening the paper. He takes a very different approach to you and unwraps it gently instead of pulling it all off. But then, his eyes go a little wide at the gift. It’s hard to read, at least for a moment. Does he like it? Did you do too much? Are you being too obvious?

“How did you…?” His eyes are filled with affection. Like nobody has ever given him something like this and it catches you off guard.

“Do you like it?” you ask, a little unsure. Mostly just to fill the space.

“I love it. How did you find it?” he asks.

“I love fragrances and there are a few small shops that I go to. It’s kind of a hassle because you have to search through the shops, but that’s fun for me. I overheard you telling Hao that you couldn’t find this one anywhere,” you say like it’s nothing.

“And then you traded to get me just to give it to me?” he asks.

“I just thought…” you start and he shakes his head. “Actually, hang on a second. I have to run out to my car and I’ll be right back,” he says.

Wonwoo is up from the table before you can even react to what he’s saying. Even though you know this is just how his brain works, it takes a second for your heart to catch up with that knowledge. It still feels weird to be sitting there by yourself when the server comes back with food, though. When he turns back up, his cheeks are a little rosy from the trip outside and you can’t miss that he’s holding a larger box.

“I’m sorry to run out. I just didn’t want to bring this in if it was really just a lunch,” he says and that doesn’t really explain anything.

“Did you get me in for the gift exchange too?” you ask, confused.

For the first time, he looks a little shy. He looks down for a second like he’s preparing himself. “No, I just really wanted to get you a present. Open it, please.”

You’re skeptical because it’s kind of big and clunky. And, on top of that, you’re confused about why he felt like he should get you a present when you’re not really that close. Or not as close as you’d like to be. When you tear off the wrapping paper, your first reaction is to laugh. There’s a cute little popcorn maker with a container of kernels along with it. But what really catches your eye is the seemingly homemade mustard to go along with it. It probably looks like the weirdest gift to anyone else. To you, though, it’s perfect.

“How on Earth did you come up with this?” you ask through a laugh.

“You hate it,” he says looking a little dejected.

“No, no, no,” you assure him and calm back down. “No, it’s perfect. But, I’ve had people give me such a hard time about popcorn dipped in mustard so I can’t imagine you just thought of it.”

“I actually talked to Minghao about what you might like,” he says sheepishly and your eyes go wide.

Leave it to your traitorous bestie to know that your crush had something like this planned and not even tell you. Of course he’s just sitting there like a little matchmaker. “That little shit. When did you ask him?”

“Before we picked people for the gift swap. I didn’t even think of trying to switch for you,” he says. “It seemed like a good way to say that I kind of like you, especially since you traded to get me.”

There’s something so matter-of-fact about the way he says it. Like it’s just another thing to say. The weather has been really cold. The food is amazing. Work is a pain. Oh, and by the way, I like you. Wait a minute. Your brain finally catches up to what Wonwoo said. It must be clear on your face, too, because he looks amused.

“Did you say you kind of like me?” you ask and that actually makes him laugh.

“Why else would I get a recipe for homemade mustard from Minghao just to surprise you for Christmas?” he asks like that should all be obvious.

“You made it yourself?”

“I had a little bit of help from my roommate because he’s much better in the kitchen, but it’s still homemade,” he says.

“I cannot believe Hao set this all up. You’re over here planning a whole ass present for me and Minghao is letting me stress over whether or not you’re going to like the present I got. And making fun of me for having a crush while you’re over here making me mustard from scratch.”

“Is that really how you’re going to tell me that you like me too?” he asks, impossibly amused by your grumbling.

“Can we have a do over?” you ask and he smiles at you.

“As many as you want.”

i hope you like it and that you're surprised!

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ybklix · 8 months ago

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daddy issues

★ bang chan

✦summary: After the agony for his sexual frustation of living under the same place as you, Bang Chan finally decides to do something to satiate all his deep and dirty fantasies with you, his best friend’s precious daughter.

♡ pairing: richdilf!chan x spoiled!bratty rich fem reader

headcanons: dilf!chan, urdad’sbestfiend!chan ♡ he wore that dilf outfit and leave us fereal like that (me) + one shoot: smut

(i tried my best, not sure if this is how headcanons works heh)

♡ based on my wild thoughts in this post lol

♡ current warnings: MDNI, smut, daddy kink, dirty talk, teasing, fingering, masturbation, spanking, slapping, oral sex, choking, implied legal age gap (reader in her early 20’s and Chan in his mid 30’s), use of nicknames (some of them degrating), after care, and just chan being rough without mercy🙂‍↕️

note: reader goes by ‘park’ last name but it is only mentioned once for the narrative.

♡ word count: 11.3k

•MASTERLIST• taglist forms for upcoming works or wip♡

—a/n: there you go, happy late father’s day!

playlist: daddy issues by the neighbourhood + be my daddy by lana del rey

yourdad’sbestfriend!chan who since he met you has not stopped fantasizing about the spoiled daughter of his friend and business partner.

dilf!chan who had to go through a horrible divorce and is trying to be the best father for his beloved toddler daughter, going through emotional stress and turning into sexually frustration since he meets you because he hasn't had sex in a long time, and you keep dangerously flirting and teasing him.

yourdad’sbestfriend!chan who wants to put you in your place for being spoiled and at the same time pampered you himself, him thinking that you’ve had everything in your life, except a big dick like his.

yourdad’sbestfriend!chan who finally decides to take you on a fancy date after your fiery flirtations behind your father's back, but proposes to meet his penthouse after a casual event at your parents's house and eventually wait to feel your nice tight pussy wrapped around his cock.

dilf!chan and yourdad’sbestfriend!chan who knows that his friend is a tough guy, demands too much from you and he didn’t give you the sweet treatment and love that a father should give his daughter, so Chan loves to hold you tight in his arms while you act tender and submissive since you could never do it and forced yourself to have a strong personality.

daddy!chan who loves to fuck you hard, ramming rough your tight hole just because you love it too, and ask him to do it hard; but also enjoys sweet fucking you while giving you soft kisses all over your face while praising you gently for moving on his big cock at your soft and tender pace.

daddy issues

He was older than you and was also your father's friend and business partner… yet you could not refuse his request to accompany him to his apartment where, according to him, you could have a nice chat and a better time… your little games of seduction and flirting were not new; you were both captivated by each other when you saw each other for the first time.

You knew Bang Chan, at least only by name, as your father often mentioned him, however you never got to see his face as he was a partner in a company in another country and your father always saw him there, you knew he was significantly younger than your father and that he trusted him a lot… almost considering him as the son he never had. You were an only child so you could say that you were in a way, somewhat spoiled since your father was stupidly rich and you were the only legitimate heir to everything he has and built throughout his life, but still having such a position carries great consequences as the harsh discipline and demands that he always put on you… almost making you mold two personalities; in spite of everything you were kind, a bit cold, but kind, humble and very aware of your surroundings, qualities that Chan noticed and captivated him instantly as well. You were mature but at the same time immature and mischievous, you had a special look for him that only he was able to decipher, you drove him crazy.

You only knew little details about Chan when you didn't know him in person, scattered comments in the air that you listened to vaguely with interest from your father, that Chan is his partner from another country, that he got married a couple of years ago —whose wedding you couldn't attend because of your commitment at the university—, that he had a daughter, that he got divorced and was the one who accompanied your father on the little relaxing vacations he gave himself from time to time; honestly you couldn’t have played it down more, you always thought he was a mature man in a suit looking old. Until you saw him for the first time at a business dinner that you were forced to attend so you would be more related to what your father was doing and working for; you saw him, Chan, near that white door frame, wearing an elegant suit and with a glass in his hand that looked so small when he held it. Your father introduced him, the famous Bang Chan he always talked about and the one and only you usually didn't take the slightest interest in him.

You remember how handsome he looked and the big smile formed on your face as you heard your father say that he would be staying a little over a month to settle matters of their respective companies just in the city and, to your surprise, he would be staying in the small house —not so small, as it could almost be considered as a quite decent and elegant apartment for which many people would pay a great deal of money— near the swimming pool. The timing couldn't have been more perfect for you, you would be home for the academic break and you had Bang nearby, you had him in your sights from the first instant you saw him, his young and manly appearance, serious but relaxed countenance, his exquisite slightly pale skin and his beautiful full lips that you wanted to taste, in addition with an adorable accent, you suddenly found yourself fantasizing strongly about your father's best friend. All that night you couldn't take your eyes off him and… for Bang Chan, the feeling was quite mutual, he really didn't expect a pleasant surprise and a beauty like you from his best friend's daughter.

Your little fleeting games of seduction began without further ado, you noticed for miles the hungry gaze with which his eyes penetrated you; you wore short little skirts when he was supposed to be counseling you in finance, you accidentally caressed his body, you looked at him with sparkling eyes while seductively addressing him as Mr. Bang and you just loved being a little flirtatious around him…. when your father didn't see you, as he would never allow that kind of provocative and revealing attire on you; but you excused yourself with brave, of being a hot summer, and went out swimming in your bikini hoping Chan was watching you. It wasn't news to you, you wanted him so badly, and you were so used to getting everything you wanted.

And for him, of course he was watching you, he did it from the first instant he met you, he knew that you were not a normal kind of girl… Bang Chan always considered himself an observant person who appreciated and noticed every detail, since you met, he noticed the slight gleam in your eyes that grew more and more, your pupils dilating, your weak and fragile body excited to have him near, the feeling was mutual, since a long time ago he had not felt attraction for another woman again after his disastrous divorce and, what he considers, as failure in love, his only true love is his daughter, who is his priority, and his mother.

At first he decided to concentrate, you were a girl younger than him, as far as he knew, still studying at the university, you were not even studying a postgraduate degree; so it seemed absurd to him, you were young, immature and above all, the precious daughter of his best friend and business partner. But the days progressed, tortuous days in the Park's gigantic house, where you kept strutting in front of him like a little whore —or so he thought—, Chan only tensed his jaw, swallowed nervously with his throat dry, thirsty, trying to ignore the dirty thoughts of wanting to take you and put you in your place so you start behaving like the polite and fine lady you should be, carrying with pride such an important last name, but no, you decided to provoke him to the extreme, his blood heating up and fighting with his greatest instinct to not lift the little piece of cloth that would cover your ass, which you called a skirt, and hit your buttocks hard until you cry and lose little consciousness and that the only thing you remember is that you should feel ashamed.

Chan couldn't take it anymore, so after the first week he rented a luxurious penthouse where he would stay for a few nights to clear his mind… and get away from you, because once near you… his body reacted on its own and he was terrified that his instincts would take everything from him. He was stressed, he could not do that to his best friend, he trusted Chan fully and madly, he even confessed to him in such an intimate and vulnerable moment that he would leave in his hands two of his most precious things in life: his legacy and company and his beloved daughter, to advise you and teach you everything you need to know so that you, together with Bang, can take control and continue the legacy. Chan thought ironically if it must have been true when he told him that he would leave you in his hands, since he was dying for you to be in his arms right now.

Days passed and ignoring your immature games, Chan managed to get serious and advise you on company matters; you thought it was boring and expressed to Chan firmly how uninterested you were, to which he annoyingly puffed out his nostrils, thinking, but what a fucking spoiled brat... yet you were curious, competitive and a fast learner, so little by little Chan saw in you your maturity and determination, got to know your serious side and true personality… as if that wasn't enough, he was now more hopelessly interested in you.

After that he was more drowned in a sea of emotions that overwhelmed him more and more, sometimes you were a cute and pretty educated girl willing to learn, sometimes you acted provocatively seducing him and making his poor big cock cry of desperation, he wanted to fuck you hard without stopping, but also kiss you sweetly and take you on a date, he wanted to hear you talk freely about yourself, but he also wanted to leave you breathless while penetrating your delicate pussy. It wasn't until later when in a serious moment you confessed to him that your choice of college career was not something you enjoyed at all, you were doing very well when it came to your grades… but you felt it was only to please your father; Chan was surprised, he knew your dad was tough but he always seemed like a good family guy, but apparently he was not, he was always absent and filled his presence with material things all your life, Chan felt bad and… he remembered his beloved daughter away from him, it seemed wrong but, he thought he didn't want to give her those treats or be absent at any time in her life, but sadly he was thousands of miles away from her, just because of work. You sweetly told him that he still had a chance, since she was only two years old, it's not something like the little girl would remember anyway, that her father had to leave for a little over a month. And in a way you felt bad for yourself and for him... you felt so bad for wanting a man with children and because he had to get divorced because suddenly their relationship didn't work out, even with a child, which left you thinking too much....

Later in the madness of living under the same area, Chan witnessed something he shouldn't have, how your father yelled at you senselessly for partying around like a ‘slut’ when you should take care of your image for the sake of the whole family and that you could have appeared in the media, as well as claiming how you were bothering Bang Chan; since you had gone out to a club like any normal girl your age, frustrated at not getting the man you wanted, you decided to get drunk and text him while you were in that state, to which Chan ran to your rescue without hesitation. He took you home as you insisted and whined over and over about it, and sneaked you to his place, so your father wouldn't see you drunk; and you slept heavily in Chan's bed without realizing it, Chan died of tenderness and took care of you all night; however his help was in vain, the gate keepers and all your father's staff informed him of the situation, that Chan had to pick you up and that they saw you enter his room… making your father angry, not with Chan, but taking out all the anger on you, slapping you.

Chan was as devastated as you were, and ran after you, for the first time, giving you a hug as you cried into his chest. You hated crying, you hated being vulnerable in front of people and allowing them to show emotion in front of them… but with Chan, you were able to release yourself so well into his arms as he stroked your hair, you had forgotten when your last hug was and how warm human companionship can be.

After all that madness in such a short time, countless nights of both of you touching yourselves fantasizing about each other, Chan wanted to put an end to his agony, his heart ached for you and his cock cried so often for not being inside you. He was about to forget everything, to tell your father that he appreciated the stay and lodging at his house, but that he would like to leave for the penthouse he rented, where from there he would leave directly for work and only see you occasionally when you visit your father's company for your quick lessons; but he lost his mind when your father confessed to him that he would like you to date a son of another of his partners, a polite boy four years older than you… that was the straw that broke the camel's back, Chan hadn't realized how privileged he was and didn't take a chance, you were completely single, you didn't see any boy —as far as he knew-—, you barely left your house, so he finally asked you out on a date, a nice romantic date that he tried hard to plan since he knew very little about the city. You had a wonderful time and he couldn't believe it, for the first time in a long time, he was beginning to like and… slightly starting to fall in love with another girl.

Finally, the hot games of seduction and teasing were mutual, escalating into more and more dangerous territory until, Chan could no longer contain himself, he was fed up with so much play and erections in his pants that he had to take them off himself; so one simple Saturday where your father wanted to be a simple man and do things like most average men do to get along, like a barbecue, somehow or other Chan managed to get out of that situation as something suddenly came up for your father… leaving you and Chan alone. But you both knew you were not quite alone, there were eyes everywhere, so he suggested that you stop by to visit his temporary apartment.

You had accepted, your nerves increased with strength, you had not passed with Chan from light friction and dangerous closeness… but to be finally alone, your heart was pounding, you did not believe you had come so far. That Saturday you were exclusively bored, sneaking out a bit to see what your father and Chan were up to, who looked so handsome wearing a slightly baggy pale blue shirt, which showed through a bit underneath so he wore a white sleeveless shirt, blue jeans and simple sneakers… he looked so relaxed and cute. You fantasized about him in all his forms, in a suit acting like a rich and powerful man, the tender Chan hugging you while you cry and comforting you, the Chan best friend of your father who talks animatedly with him, and him casual, just him. You were so eager for him, you even told your best friends that this summer you had to fuck your father's friend, no was not an option, you had to have him.

He drove without another word to his place… you both didn't know what to say but you could feel the tension in the air, it was obvious he wanted to do a couple of not so tender and gentle things with you. You smoothed your skirt nervously as you rode shotgun in the car, luckily you always dolled up to see Chan and ever since that hug he always reminds you how pretty you look, out loud when you’re alone, and in whispers in your ear when people are around.

You entered the place even more nervous with Chan behind you… normally you are not the nervous type of girl, but something about being so close to Chan and what you always longed for made you even tremble.

“It looks nice” you managed to say as you walked into the place, clearing your throat a little.

Chan brazenly watched your silhouette up and down licking his lips, even your voice was driving him crazy, you turned to see him and found his worked and muscular body relaxed, giving you a little smile.

“But why would you rent an apartment if you're supposed to already have a place to stay...” you spoke again, getting closer to him and unable to avoid showing your little cynical and sarcastic side, “is it something rich men do or… is it to have more privacy with the girls you fuck?” your smile got bigger, waiting for a response from him.

But he didn't think it was funny, if only having sex with other women was so simple he would have done it so fast to forget about you, but he couldn't, it was just you, you and you. But Chan decided to relax a little and and match your energy.

“Oh yeah, hundreds of girls I bring here” he added amused, “Honey do you want something to drink…?”

You bit your lower lip, while your cheeks turned red as you heard him sweet talk you, you adored him madly and appreciated his attempt to be nice to you but you couldn't deny that you were incredibly horny, you were even slightly wet already, so you gently rolled your eyes then let out and small sigh, moving closer to Chan, you couldn't contain your body anymore, it was vibrating from all the possible scenarios that you couldn't wait another second for them to happen.

“Why don't you just kiss me already… isn't that what you've always wanted?” you said slowly returning to your seductive tone and took a step closer, almost brushing his lips as you look him suggestively in the eyes.

Chan stood still, incredulous of your boldness and that you wanted to start doing it at once… his breathing started to get irregular, his heart pounding as excited as it had never been before, he was crazy about you, although sometimes, with that cute and tender face you have, he expects you to act like that, tender and innocent, but you are absolutely the opposite, speaking boldly and not afraid to say what you are thinking about. And of course you were like that, at least in sex, not every day you had a man like Chan willing to fuck you, although you knew perfectly well that you could have them all in the palm of your hand, but no one was him, your sweet Channie who without realizing he knows too many private things about you that you fought so hard to keep them and hide, that you always carried with that weight; but you were like that, a bit daring to get what you wanted... but when it comes to feelings and expressing what you feel, that's when you really become the sweet, innocent young woman he slightly desires. But he doesn't mind anyway, knowing every facet of you is a challenge he loves to take.

“Please… Chan” you asked again almost in a whisper, you don't mind showing a little needy side of you to him, even though you were proud, you really wanted him badly.

Chan reacted coming out of his trance and quickly observing the details of your face, he grabbed your waist and finally caught your lips, feeling the same softness of the clouds and rising to a trance so heavenly by your touch, he was dying to kiss you from the first moment he saw you. Chan was slowly moving his expert lips over yours, you were so stunned that you didn't even know where to place your hands so you only left them lightly resting on Chan's chest, feeling the stiffness of his muscular and very well worked body, you couldn't believe it, you were getting too carried away with just simple kisses and your pussy started to throb hard so ready to take Chan's cock if he wanted to do it right now. Chan made you slowly open your mouth, at his torturous, slow and hot pace, with his left hand he held your face and finally the kiss became a little dirtier as he used his slick tongue mercilessly. The act made your pussy throb harder and covered more your panties with your sweet wetness. You took little gasps of air every now and then but Chan never let go of your mouth, you felt so good just kissing him that you slowly lost your sanity and the strength to stand; he gently began to stroke your back with his other hand, so you also wanted to be part of the soft touching while kissing passionately, so you directed your hand towards his cock, surprised to find his dick extremely prominent and erect in his pants, you almost moaned at the thought of how big his cock was erect, you were dying to see his cock completely uncovered. Chan moaned subtly as he felt your daring touch… but something inside him that night wanted to take absolute control of the situation, to give you orders and wanted to see you being a good girl for him, but you started touching him, provoking him more and teasing him just a little, but enough to squeeze your wrist hard with his hand that was previously on your back, pulling it away from his cock and, pulling a little on your hair to get you off his face, away from his lips. Leaving you confused and disoriented as you were extremely lost in his caresses.

“Don't touch until I tell you what to do, babygirl” he warned with a stern and defiant look at you, expecting a sweet nod of your head as you stare into his eyes so needy and submissive.

But it was just the opposite, you were so excited that all you could think about was making him feel good and how cute it would sound as he whimpered your name. You bit your lip, and tried to wiggle out of his grip on your wrist, going back to stroking his erection, ignoring him.

“Shit, but you're so hard and it's so big” you moaned, but quickly the tighter grip on your wrist and in your hair took over, stretching it, it confused you a little and you looked him straight in the eye.

“Why do you always have to do what you want and act like a fucking slut?” he blurted out suddenly with his eyes dark, the vein in his neck slightly exalted and his body full of lust.

You smiled broadly, something about him seeing him angry made you ten times more horny, you loved teasing him so much.

“Then treat me like one” you commented with a cocky grin, almost in an excited sigh, you were so agitated, your body throbbing, your breathing ragged and your heart seeming to want to burst out of your chest, forcefully feeling each beat rumble in your ears, you needed to fuck him desperately.

Chan smiled sideways in disbelief at your request… he was so willing to make you feel good and have a nice unforgettable night, of course he was going to penetrate you till you were breathless, but he would be gentle, ordering you around gently… but you were complicating things too much, suddenly you confessed to him how dirty you wanted the act to be.

“Is that what you want?” he added in a low voice, looking at you expectantly and intimidating you a little for the first time.

You nodded nervously as you felt the pressure of his grips even tighter, causing you a little pain.

“Alright” he replied, still looking intimidating and dominant, he brought his face closer to you, almost brushing your lips and tempting you to kiss him, “Dirty sluts don't deserve sweet kisses on the lips then” he mumbled in your face, pulling even harder on your hair, “They get fucked hard.”

You winced a little but he quickly released you, you couldn't hide your smile hearing him say that, you were so turned on and he hadn't even started touching you, you lowered your gaze to his pants, the protruding bulge in his blue jeans took your breath away, he was also so ecstatic without even starting.

“Take your clothes off now” he ordered you, still with an annoyed tone, but he was too turned on by you provoking him and acting like a spoiled cynic little bitch.

Chan pressed his lips together, licking them and putting his hands on his hips, with bated breath waiting to see the whole show. You looked at him and then lowered your gaze to your clothes, with light trembling hands that you were trying so hard to relax, you removed your top, your bra, your skirt and paused a little at your panties, bent down as you slid from the thin elastic and stared at him, his eyes captured on you, his gaze traveling quickly to every part of your body so as not to miss any detail, you gasped at the sensation of the fabric leaving your pussy and finally you were completely naked for him, smiling smugly at him. Chan couldn't resist, he had to touch you so he quickly drew your body to his, squeezing your ass, making you give a little squeak of surprise, finally, the sensation of his skin clinging to yours, touching you, your cheeks burned again, for so long you had fantasized about being touched and groped by him and now Chan found himself massaging your ass as you feel the friction of all his clothes, and his erection, joined to your naked body.

Chan watched you, your sweet pink lips begging to be treated gently, but you by yourself had decided to be treated like a whore so he would give you exactly the treatment, completely unaware of you and trying to erase the tender thoughts he has of you.

“Even fucking whores should be taught manners once in a while” he mumbled looking down at you from above and tightening his grip on your ass to which you moaned.

Chan carried you with ease, walking a few secluded yards to his living room in his large, soft white couch with its large mirror on the wall above it; he sat down and wrestled you onto his long, strong thighs face down, your lower abdomen feeling the pressure of the rough denim of his jeans, and your breasts brushing against the softness of the couch, leaving your ass in the air at his sight and will. You drew in a shaky breath, stirring uncomfortably from your position, predicting exactly what his next move might be about. Chan dropped his heavy arm on your shoulder blades impeding and bounding your movement a bit, having you just facing your very bounded front view; you felt him gently caress your ass and gently spread it apart to part your folds making you groan. Chan bit his lip at the sight of your wet and slightly swollen little pussy, you were so needy and having you just at his disposal made his cock throb enclosed in his tight pants, it was like his cock had a life of its own when it came to you, only with you he would get hard in seconds at the slightest interaction and that frustrated him madly… so he would finally get even for all the times you misbehaved and left him so needy, for all the times you behaved like a real slut to get his attention.

He inhaled air between his teeth gently shaking his head, thinking he had to, he wanted to see you cry and beg.

“I'm going to give you a little punishment babygirl, for all the times you went around provoking me when I never asked you to, behaving like a fucking slut, you won't count them, I'll spank you until you understand” he said plaintiff.

You sighed half-heartedly and excited, somehow you were so turned on by this foreplay of him acting domineering, of wanting to correct you and, without being able to think anymore, you felt the first strong and loud spank on your ass, your body contracting from the shock and impact, you gasped loudly, it had hurt so much and it was only the first one, but you couldn't help feeling that it was turning you on more, you thought that you would look a little crazy if you cum when he was hitting you, but you couldn't help it, your sensations were at the limit. Chan didn't even let your blood pressure molecules work for your well-being and stability, when he was already spanking you again, this time letting out a little cry and biting your lip hard.

“You have been a very bad girl…” he mentioned almost breathless panting with excitement as he saw your weak body react to the pain, “Very very bad for daddy, when all I wanted was for you to behave well” he spanked you again.

And you didn't know what surprised you more, the hit or that he had suddenly called himself daddy, making your heart pound harder…. daddy, oh my god you thought, he had finally said it, you thought it sounded so hot coming out of his rough voice full of pleasure and that ultimately that dirty fetish suited Chan so well, of which he felt a sexual arousal hearing you say daddy when you meekly and in a high pitched tone referred to your father like that, when clearly it was with a double intention, a random afternoon as you sucked hard on a popsicle while looking him coyly in the eyes. And Chan couldn't deny it felt so good to self-brand himself in that term in the sex act, it came so naturally to him, it made him feel empowered and in control, such a tender and dirty term only when both of you use it.

“Daddy” you moaned in pain and excitement as you felt your fourth spank.

“That's right babygirl, daddy is here to correct you every time you are misbehaving” Chan growled, stretching your hair and spanking you sudden times.

The shuddering sound of his big hand colliding with your destroyed skin made him hornier, Chan spanked you and watched your sweet reaction two seconds and continued to his activity, exciting him uncontrollably, with your body helpless and unwilling to move by his grip and your moans were more than enough, Chan wanted to release his cock once and for all, his balls ached and he could feel his precum drops coming intensely from his choked and pressed tip. You on the other hand were starting to whimper, you kicked hard and with awkward movements you struggled your right hand towards your ass to stop him from beating you, you had forgotten how many he had given you, but you were on the verge, your ass was a fiery red.

“Daddy, please” you whined with your voice trembling and in supplication.

“Please what?” he spoke sharply, releasing his grip on your hair and bringing it to your hand to stop you from impeding his action.

You were practically crying a little and tried to turn to look at him once he stopped leaning against your back, but you couldn't. You were about to answer, as you were feeling your buttocks burning intensely, but you were sore and limp, however before you could say anything you felt two long fingers in your hole, suddenly fucking you and causing your body to react.

“Do you want me to stop, you little slut?” spoke Chan, playing with his fingers at your entrance, dilating it for him, you gasped in response, “You are so fucking wet and all I have done is spank you, do you actually like being treated like a real slut?” Chan bit his bottom lip again as he felt your walls clench his fingers, thinking if this is how tight you are with his fingers he was dying to feel that tightness around his cock.

You were so focused on the shocks of vibration his long digits transmitted to you as you tried to forget the pain in your ass, but you shrunk your body a little with fear as you felt his left hand let go of your arm and started to caress your ass again, you didn't want to be spanked again, you understood it was hot at first but now it just hurt. You were already a mess, you are soaking wet, with your eyes watering and physically weak. Chan got a half smile on his face as he noticed your reaction.

“So have you learned to behave yourself or do you want me to remind you again how painful it can be not to obey daddy? Because I can break that lovely ass of yours again” he commented, almost sighing excitedly the last sentence as he leered at your round red ass with his hand marked on your skin, gently squeezing the damaged area, making you whimper again.

“Yes daddy” you responded quickly and desperately as you resented the violent rhythmic changes of his fingers on your sensitive pussy, “I-I'll be a good girl for you, ahh, fuck daddy” you moaned exquisitely feeling the skill of his fingers exploring your insides as he plunged into the sea of your wetness, grotesquely hearing the sound of your fluids colliding with the movements of his fingers.

You were not thinking clearly, you were so close to your first strong orgasm from the sensation of his fingers alone.

“Watch your pretty mouth, princess” he commanded as he heard you curse.

“S-sorry, daddy” you replied just to please him so he wouldn't spank you again; it felt so satisfying for you to call him that as he had you exploding with pleasure.

Chan removed his right hand from your entrance and with it he began to delicately caress your wet folds as he grabbed your hair again.

“Come here” he ordered you.

You moaned softly as you stopped feeling his touch and struggled to sit up, you slowly raised your body, sitting painfully on one of Chan's thighs, but as soon as you sat down, he gently lifted you off your hips, leaving you sitting on the couch and he quickly stood up. You winced at the sensation of the material of the couch rubbing against your sensitive, bruised bottom, rising uncomfortably pressing your palms into the cushioned couch as you watched Chan's domineering complexion in front of you from the bottom up, the two of you exchanged eye contact, Chan looking up at you haughtily, gently licking his lips as his long fingers went to the button of his pants to unbutton them; your attention was completely diverted, concentrating on the action, you subtly bit your lip, you brought your legs together a bit feeling all the wetness of your pussy and for a moment you forgot your discomfort, your heart raced again just seeing that Chan was starting to undress, you were so excited as if he was unwrapping a gift you were eagerly waiting for, Chan never took off his smug expression and enjoyed seeing the eager reaction of your fragile body; once with his pants unbuttoned, he quickly stripped off all his clothes, he always felt more comfortable naked, plus he could freely do everything with you, he raised his arms, taking off both shirts, pale blue collared and the white sleeveless one he wears underneath, finally revealing his marked abdomen and pecs, you sighed, thinking how well preserved he was for an older man with a daughter and thought about how much you wanted to ride his cock while holding on to his worked body... oh, his cock, you thought in a second, still with your mind a little fuzzy and your vision blurred between desire and your slightly watery eyes. Chan finally took off his jeans, also desperate to be on top of you, you appreciated his big bulge for a few seconds before he finally takes off his underwear, his erect and rigid cock coming out gracefully, so overstimulated and with its notorious tip of a bright pink with details of a brilliant white from his precum. You opened your eyes in amazement analyzing every detail of his member's anatomy… you had never seen such a thing, you always fantasized that it would be big but reality surpassed fiction a little, it was a little bigger than what you projected in your head… it was perfect and looked so appetizing, you didn't miss any detail of his cock, from the base and its pink and slightly tanned testicles, to its entire firm length with protruding veins scattered all over it, it looked so nice and neat, and you started to feel so perky and excited leaving aside the pain in your ass, you were so excited that the slight discomfort was even turning you on more. It was so impressive and big that you wondered how he was able to hide it all this time. Chan saw your tender gaze sparkle at the sight of his big cock.

“You like what you see, honey?” he laughed softly, bringing you out of your shock and making you look him in the face, yes you adored his cock and you hadn't even tasted it, but you loved the person who possessed it more, you wanted to see every expression of your adored Chan when he is already fucking you. You nodded.

He caught your gaze, so lewd and submissive for him as your body trembled slightly and your chest looked heaving breathing hard. Chan was enjoying every damn second of having you. You wanted to get close to him, to start jerking him off because of your seductive nature, but you held back all your urges with almost even physical strength. Chan got down on his knees, fully willing to appreciate the precious pussy that now belonged to him and he would surely destroy later, making his cock move freely at the rough movement making him moan which you loved to hear, you came back to your senses hearing it; Chan spread your legs and appreciated your poor needy cunt, with your entrance slightly dripping.

“But look what a mess you're made of… just for daddy, aren't you precious?” he groaned running his fingertips along your labia.

“Y-yes daddy.”

You gasped, trying to relax your body on the back of the couch and settling your body so that your ass wouldn't hurt so much, Chan was lost in detail all over the structure of your vagina and began to stroke your sensitive clitoral spot, contracting your body a little; for him suddenly his slow process burned inside his body, but he was a true believer of leaving the best to last and in this case it would be finally feeling your tight core hugging his cock. Chan continued to stroke the entire length of your folds without leaving your clitoris alone; you were so frustrated, and excited, the sensation of your orifice getting more and more lubricated was driving you crazy… if you didn't feel filled by his cock in the next five minutes you would start to cry with despair.

“But what a nice, needy pussy, ready to be cared for, do you want daddy to take care of it for you?” he said dirtily spanking your exposed vulva, getting you all worked up.

“Yes, daddy, p-please…” you were about to beg him to fuck you at once, beg him because it wasn't that hard to just stick his cock in you.

But once again your words were interrupted as you once again felt Chan's fingers in you fucking you with agility, making you once again lose your sanity.

Chan brought his hand to his member as his poor sex was also crying out to be attended, but he would never admit it, at least not in this sizzling scenario you both were creating… and he began to masturbate panting while his other hand attended to you. You saw him lustfully biting your lip thinking that you could be the one who could please him, take his cock and make him feel good, he didn't have to do it by himself. He came dangerously close to the center of your labia, feeling his hot breath and his big nose brushing lightly against your genitals, you saw him, confused and expectant that if he came near your pussy it was because he was going to start sucking it but… he just stood there for a few seconds with a naughty little smile on his face.

He stopped masturbating to bring his hand up and play with your labia without missing the delicious rhythm of his fingers on you.

“You want me to eat your pussy, huh, little slut? Do you want to feel my tongue making you scream?” he spoke between sighs in front of your sensitive area.

Your cheeks flushed and you couldn't agree more, you nodded excitedly with your eyes sparkling, but only got a small mocking laugh from Chan in response.

“Well too bad, princess, bad girls don't deserve to have their pussy eaten by daddy.”

You whimpered as you stopped feeling his hot breath near you and from Chan's sudden movements inside you filling your organ.

“Let me help you daddy, I want to touch you too” you mumbled senselessly, closing your eyes tightly so ecstatic to feel something inside your vagina.

“You want to help me huh, yeah? With what, baby?” your whole body collapsed and trembled, you were so close and he knew it.

“L-let me help you with your cock daddy, I want to make you f-feel good too” you babbled, arching your back as you felt you were nothing short of orgasm. “Fuck, I-I'm-gonna cum daddy” you cried out sharply and before you felt the jolt of your orgasm you felt one of Chan's hand on your cheek, slapping you then squeezing your cheeks hard with his hand so you could stare at him.

The slap surprised you but excited you too much once you caught his dark gaze behind his small eyelids.

“I told you not to curse” he spat annoyed without missing the rhythm of his fingers in your pussy, you lowered your gaze to his strong arm whose skin glistened from the lighting of the place and his veins were exalted in his hand working on your hole and folds, you felt him pull again on his strong grip “Look at me” he commanded “You're about to cum, huh, dirty slut?” he gasped seeing your taut complexion struggling for release, and, almost bursting to fill Chan with you, he stopped completely, “Oh honey I would have made you cum but don't forget tonight you are still a dirty whore at my beck and call, you will cum until I tell you to.”

You whimpered, letting out a heavy sigh as you watched him in annoyance and disbelief as he stood up, bringing his big cock closer to your face.

“Come on, didn't you say you were going to try to be a good girl and help me” he groaned inhaling air between his teeth and dropping his heavy right hand on top of your head.

You saw him, lewdly and quickly arranged your body, getting on your knees on the couch and leaning your torso and arching your back to get exactly level with his cock, you licked your lips hungrily and held his long and slightly curved cock, you gasped as you felt its rough but smooth texture in your hands… for a second you thought about getting revenge and leaving him so needy without letting him cum… but your mentality changed as you finally felt him, so erect and rigid and ready for you.

“Can I put it in my mouth daddy?” you asked innocently looking into his eyes as you felt his sex throb after hearing you speak.

“Fuck, yes, babygirl, take it all, show me you can take all of daddy's cock, show me what your dirty little mouth can do” he replied in a gasping whisper stroking your hair.

You smiled and your eyes moved to his manhood, you kissed his tip, covering your lips in his precum and continued to give him soft kisses all along his length as your hands moved down as well, until you reached his base, where your left hand gently caressed and squeezed his balls and you quickly ran your tongue along his erection until you returned again to his tip. You felt every bulge of his veins in your mouth thinking that his cock would become your new favorite plaything. Chan gasped, completely giving in to the sensation of his sex finally being touched and tightened his grip on your hair.

“It's so big daddy” you moaned looking into his eyes as your hands masturbated him, preparing to take him into your mouth.

“It has to go all the way in your pretty mouth slut” he replied watching you from below.

You watched all the way down to his cock from your angle, his strong neck, his protruding pecs and marked abdomen until you reached his clean shaved pubic area detonating small veins until you reached his huge erect manhood, you wanted him to fuck you so hard until it made you forget your name and the only one you can scream and remember is his… but for now, you were going to suck him off so good he would miss the feeling of your warm cavity on his cock.

You moved your tongue circularly on his glans, tasting every part of his salty pre cum combined with your saliva as you tentatively played with his foreskin a little, making Chan whimper, which made your body vibrate with excitement and finally you opened your mouth wide to insert it. Chan let out a little gasp at finally feeling his cock inside something, a cavity as soft and warm and like yours, as he felt his cock finally being surrounded by the wetness of your mouth and the sensation of your naughty tongue that wouldn't stop moving. Chan sighed heavily, closing his eyes and throwing back his head.

“Fuck, babygirl, that's it, keep g-going, don't stop” he gasped encouraging you to move more.

His cock was so big that only half of it fit with effort, the rest of its length you held with your hand, still you took advantage of the stiffness but flexibility of his member, making him explore the inside of your mouth, making Chan tremble as his sighs of excitement came more and more forcefully from his inside, pushing against his abdomen. You felt a tickle in your nose as it watered and became slippery, your whole expression changed, your cheeks rose up to your eyes, bothering you and making them begin to water, however you did not stop and began to move, bobbing your head up and down his length, trying to adapt to his size, and do it at your pace, however pleasure took over Chan and between gasps he began to pull your head penetrating your mouth gently; you moaned breathlessly and with his virility in your cavity, whimpering and releasing tinies mmm's, the liquids of both began to slide out of your mouth; Chan bit his lip at the submissive and helpless image of you with his big member in your mouth as you struggled to keep up and catch your breath, then he looked up, meeting his reflection in the big mirror on the wall, seeing himself with such a pleased expression from you pretty mouth giving it all to satisfy him, Chan thought he couldn't wait to see what a mess you became as he fucked you hard, seeing you both in that damn, big, strategic mirror.

Chan continued to thrust your head, you were so turned on again that your trembling, fumbling hand found its way to your pussy to begin stimulating your clitoris as your mouth grotesquely and sexually filled with your father's best friend's big cock. Chan flicked his tongue, smiled at the sight of you in a mess, your makeup smudged, your eyes watering and your hand struggling to touch yourself… however the last thing did not please him at all, he wanted to keep teasing you and have absolute control of your body, your emotions, your panting, your pleasure, everything must be because he was giving it to you, it all belonged to him. He pulled roughly on your hair, pulling his dick violently out of your mouth splashing your fluids all over your face, his abdomen and onto the couch; Chan without thinking again treated you like a whore, and slapped you again.

“You can't touch yourself, concentrate on my cock, cum like a slut by just sucking my cock if you want, but you are not allowed to touch yourself, today only daddy can touch you” he demanded, leaving your fragile cheek slightly burning with pain.

You looked at him in surprise, and without answering him or being able to take a breath, he reached up again to grab your hair, taking the base of his erection with his hand and directing it back to your mouth where its red tip brushed your wet lips.

“Open up, make me feel good, let daddy cum in that little mouth” he demanded again in a husky voice.

You looked at him, vulnerably with each limb weak and trembling, you opened your mouth and he without warning pushed until you felt his glans touch the bottom of your cavity.

“Daddy is going to fuck your throat, princess, hold on.”

Your body vibrated and your womanhood reacted violently to his warning, you made eye contact with him again, almost begging for mercy as your eyes watered, which only made Chan swell more, he bit his lip and the vein in his neck started to become more and more noticeable, it felt more than good, he was about to cum with an intensity like he had never done before and just from fucking your mouth. Chan rammed you gently and then found a way to slide his cock down your throat as he dug his hands into your hair; you whimpered, out of breath and contracting your body hard, out of air and begging for some, regurgitating as he touched the uvula of your mouth, upsetting your gag reflex, as you held onto his thighs, digging your nails in; Chan cried out in pleasure, reaching so deep until you felt the rough texture of the skin of his balls on your lips, rubbing them into you as he moved subtly, only to pull away quickly as he saw your body convulse for help. You caught your breath and coughed from the earlier sensation of a large intruder in your throat, you brought your hands to your neck… you still smiled at him, it was so fucking hot, you were immobile unable to do anything about his strong grip, fuck, now you loved deepthroating him.

He noticed your cynical reaction, you looked incredibly horny to him, he didn't think you were that kind of girl, all in all a wonderful girl willing to explore every game and open to anything.

“Make me cum” Chan added in a whine, now he almost pleading, releasing his tight grip on your hair and now stroking it. Your smile widened and now you continued at your pace, tasting and enjoying his entire length and testicles, your mouth up and down his cock as you massaged his balls; then running your tongue all over it as if it were your favorite candy.

“Mmm, you taste so good daddy, I love your cock, it's so big, mm” you babbled between his cock, looking into his eyes.

“Yeah?” he said raising his eyebrows and looking at you haughtily, weakening his body so much at every naughty flick of your tongue and strong suction, echoing grotesquely in the room the moans of both of you and the dripping sound of his cock colliding with your mouth and lips, Chan was so close, “Keep going babygirl, fuck, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, all over your fucking mouth, you're doing it so well, what the fuck” Chan babbled feebly.

And Chan ejaculated, inhaling hard air between his teeth and gasping loudly as he closed his eyes as he felt his cum shoot out of his glossy tip, landing on your ready, open tongue. You watched Chan cum, his abdomen contracting as he gasped loudly and you felt like a faithful happy puppy wagging your tail endlessly. You kept stimulating his glans, flicking in small circles as you subtly lubed it and withdrew the semen from your mouth, falling in sticky drips to the couch.

“Fuck” said Chan in exasperation for the last time before pulling his cock away from you.

Chan was hard again, not caring that he had just finished cumming, he was still very well loaded, now ready to fuck you, he leaned towards you, looking at you intimidatingly to which you shrank back coming up against the back of the couch, unsure what his spontaneous move might be now. Chan approached your face and with his thumb he roughly slid the liquids around your mouth, on your chin and under your nose, aggressively doing it even on your lips, then forcing his finger into your warm mouth, you didn't take your eyes off him, once again breathing heavily, you caught his finger and sucked it hard in such an erotic act while appreciating every detail of his handsome face.

“Good girl” he whispered, “Now spread your pretty legs and let me see your pussy to prepare it before I fuck you.”

Once again you came back to all your senses, your body trembled with exaggeration and excitement knowing that he was finally going to fuck you. You leaned back fully and spread your legs again showing him your exposed vulva, still throbbing and a mess from being soaked and moaning softly from your bruised ass. You looked at Chan's full complexion and once again your eyes were lost on his stiff throbbing cock, fearful that perhaps it was going to hurt a little…. Chan didn't hesitate and passed his hard cock rubbing it in your soaked folds while holding it with his hand, you moaned shuddering at the sensation, he was teasing you to the limit, Chan also gasped subtly at the pressure of his cock in your wet warm genital, rubbing it proudly in you, you swallowed, still with your mouth wet and sensitive from his cock in it just a moment ago and plucked up the courage to say to him:

“Fuck me please, daddy, I-I need you, please” you begged as you felt his firmness rubbing hard against your labia.

Chan watched you smugly with a smile as he saw you so needy, your pussy exposed, your makeup ruined and your glossy mouth dirty and your body with little drops of his cum.

“You want my cock so badly, huh?” he mumbled now teasing your entrance, rubbing his tip and rubbing it gently, almost thrusting it in which made you groan as you retained the loud sound biting your lip and enjoying it.

“Mmhuum…” you moaned nodding softly.

You thought Chan was about to fuck you in that position, you were so ready, your orifice dilated desperate for him, but you were surprised when he abruptly grabs your wrist, pulling you up and forcing you to stand, moving your body with ease, putting you on your back to him, you felt so hot from his sudden movement and quickly felt Chan move closer to your body, sticking his erection on your back, he held you by your breasts and whispered hotly in your ear,

“I'm going to fuck my way into you, babygirl.”

You saw the scene in the mirror facing you, half your body exposed and Chan behind you looking at you with desire. Once again your serotonin rose, this time without false hope as you finally felt Chan's cock slide all the way to your entrance, stretching your entire hole making you scream and you felt your whole canal slowly fill to the bottom, with the sensation of Chan's body crashing against yours, he also groaned as he was inside you, with your tight walls choking his swollen cock; you whimpered and arched your back a little, now enjoying it and shifting your hips gently to adapt to his size. Chan saw the sight of his cock buried in your tiny hole, stretching for him and gasped at your subtle movements.

“And you're fucking yourself already huh? Don't move babygirl, I'm gonna be the one fucking you tonight, remember.”

Chan grabbed your hips, pulling your body away and then tackling him, exquisitely sliding his cock into your walls, you both gasped. He meant to be gentle at first, but eventually found his pace as he began to pound you hard, inserting his entire firm length into your tightness, “Fuck” Chan mumbled, looking at your red and slightly bruised ass, as his pelvis and balls pounded you hard. You were so wet that amidst his moans and sound of his skin slapping also came the sound of your wet pussy meeting his cock.

“Fuck, baby, you're so tight, what a fucking tight cunt, so good, baby” Chan whimpered, you were deliciously tight for him which made him feel divine, finally everything he had sighed about so many nights in frustration, wanting to falsely set limits with you, was just now, fucking you hard.

“Fu-, it's huge daddy it hurts but it feels so good” you mumbled as you were rammed hard with your voice cracking between each stroke he gave you.

Chan grabbed your arms now, holding you still and doing what he wanted with your body, deliberately pounding you with his big cock, enjoying every inch of you until he reached your cervix hitting it hard. He stretched your body, pulling it together with his, making the thrusts deeper, almost vigorously moving your guts, feeling the bulge of his cock protrude into your belly; Chan wrapped his right arm around your chest and neck, headlocking you softly, while his left hand went down to your clitoris, caressing, you trembled and moaned at the same time, you were losing strength as you were extremely filled with pleasure and literally filled, physically by Chan's cock, you saw his glowing big arm wrap around you, smelling his sweet scent as he gently brushed your chin, he put his head close to your ear and whispered dominant:

“Look how I fuck you, huh, is that how you like it little slut?”

You gasped breathlessly, and looked up to see your humiliatingly weak body and your expression of pleasure in the mirror, ecstatic at your insides being destroyed. Chan was also beginning to tremble, he was so empowered but at the same time weak, he had cum intensely before and your walls were sucking his cock heavenly; so in one swift movement, he sat down on the couch, without getting out of you, giving you a better sensation of his balls rubbing against your pussy and his smooth, marked skin of his abs touching your back; you whimpered at the sudden motion, as your buttocks were still sensitive, Chan continued to hold you by the neck, ramming you hard bringing him closer and closer to his glorious second orgasm. Once again he stroked your sensitive spot on your pussy and positioned his face next to yours, so you heard every hot and needy whimper of your secret lover, every sigh and exasperated moan, being music to your ears.

“Look at you, taking my cock so well into that soaked tight pussy, don't you love when daddy fucks you hard, sweetie?”

You gasped raggedly, “Yes, daddy, I love it”, but your body quivered harder, finally so close to your orgasm.

“Fitting my cock in your tight hole like a fucking slut, god, you feel so good” Chan whimpered at the sensation of his swollen cock shrinking, struggling to enter you fully, destroying you so heavenly, while Chan held back the urge to kiss you dirtyly.

He accelerated his movements, both of on your clitoris and his thrusts, lifting his hips harder, pounding you hard.

“Oh, daddy, I'm going to cum, can I cum?” you whimpered shuddering almost on the edge, you had held back so many orgasms you were about to burst.

“Go ahead princess, cum on my cock, isn't that what you always wanted?”

Chan groaned, smelling strongly the scent of your hair and moved his arm, now only to his hand, placed on your neck and beginning to choke you. You felt his strong grip, shortness of breath and your heart pounding intensely as your pussy kept being rammed, you brought your hands to his at your neck, feeling every exalted vein of his bony upper limb with your sight blurring completely, you whimpered loudly for the last time and unloaded into him, relaxing the tension in your muscles and releasing all your sweet cum.

“Fuck” grunted Chan as he became aware of your warm cum wrapping around his dick, and his grip on you gradually became less tight, “I'm gonna fucking cum inside of you, babygirl, oh, fuck, fuck” he whined and he continued ramming you until he cummed hard inside of you.

You drop your completely tired and yielding body on Chan's chest, both of you with heaving breaths. Chan lift you up a little from his length to witness the obscene scene of your tired cunt and wide open hole with his cock inside, so needy and twitching while spilling out your sweet cum coating his cock, sliding down reaching his balls. He smiled incredulously and proudly, after he promised himself that he wouldn't touch his friend's beloved daughter…

“Fuck, babygirl, that was great” commented Chan breathlessly with a sweeter tone as he gently fondled your breasts, “Come here and kiss me” he asked sweetly.

You were shaken, your vision blurred and throbbing from such an intense orgasm, yet you gave your all to turn your body and join your lips with Chan's, you loved being fucked by him, but all the time you missed the feel of his soft lips. Chan kissed you sweetly, playing with your nipples, an act of which if he kept doing there was no doubt you could become aroused again.

“Maybe next time I'll fuck you gentler, okay? Forgive me if I was too rough, princess, was I?” he whispered tenderly, softening his gaze to a cuter one in seconds.

You softly denied looking at him tenderly, “No, daddy, I loved it… but I would also love it if you fuck me gently next time” you smiled shyly at him.

Chan found your tired face adorable, your cheeks red, still so flustered trying to calm you down, he smiled back and released your tits to let his hands rest on your thighs, caressing them and placed a soft sounding kiss on your shoulder and said:

“Do you want to stay on my cock for a while or…?”

“Oh, I'm sorry” you interrupted him opening your eyes in surprise not realizing that maybe he wanted to be done, which he laughed softly at your reaction, narrowing his eyes and stretching his nose a little.

However that wasn't his intention, Chan didn't care, he also refused to get out of you, to feel you from him, he just wanted to know if you would stay longer to get into his totally tender mode and not get hard inside you.

“You want me to clean you up? Geez you've made a mess, beautiful.”

You denied again embarrassed.

“No, no, can I go to the bathroom?”

“You'll clean yourself up like a big girl” he continued playfully.

To which you provocatively and innocently replied, “Yes, may I daddy?”

Chan let out a giggle and nodded, stroking your back, “Would you like some dinner, princess? It's late, will you stay here?”

You nodded blushing, “Yes that's fine and… I guess I can say I went to stay with a friend.”

Chan smiled, “Won't it be very suspicious that we left together and absent at the same time?”

“Like if my dad would care” you replied, a little annoyed.

“I think he will mind if he finds out that it's me corrupting his sweet daughter…” snapped Chan.

You moved closer to his face and with a big mischievous smile you whispered, "Then let's always keep it a secret" you kissed him quickly.

That caused a reaction in Chan, again you and your subtle seduction games but you stood up, sliding his cock one last time and it falling gracefully again close to its owner, causing him to let out a soft moan as he still saw how soaked both sexes were joined together.

“Where is the bathroom…?” you asked, uncomfortable, looking for your clothes to cover yourself as you didn't want to walk around naked like one without shame.

He watched you tenderly as he noticed you, “Down this hallway to the bottom right” he answered you, reaching down to get his blue shirt, “Here, babygirl, put it on.”

You smiled shyly at him and put on his shirt of which was of little helpless as your body was see-through in it, he looked at you more tenderly as he saw how huge it looked on you and you walked shyly to the bathroom.

Chan got up, cleaned up and tidied the mess a bit, ordered dinner and tried to find something comfortable for you… but none of his clothes weren't going to fit you. You came out of the bathroom and looked for Chan until you found him near the TV in his living room trying to put something on, looking like a real dad looking for what to watch on TV, you approached him with a smile and hugged him to which he immediately reciprocated.

“I tried to find something for you, but I don't think my clothes fit you, but don't worry beautiful, I put your underwear in the washer so you'll be comfortable.”

You lifted your face and looked at him sweetly, “I guess I have to stay like this, with nothing in my pussy for a while” you commented, playfully.

“It doesn't have to be so alone, your pussy if that's what you want” Chan whispered, sliding his hand suddenly and with his fingertips caressing your exposed folds.

You moaned, your eyes began to darken and your pupils to dilate. Chan let out a giggle and withdrew his hand, he was just teasing you a little.

“I ordered us sushi, okay? Wanna watch a movie?” he said still with a slightly teasing expression, to place a soft kiss on your forehead.

But Chan knew damn well you'd never end up paying attention to the stupid movie anyway, he still wanted you so bad.

₊˚⊹♡ bonus imagine:

Video you take of your new secret lover, in your hidden encounters in his apartment; him looking so relaxed and handsome in his black sleeveless shirt as the two of you make out passionately, waiting for the situation to escalate to something more fiery, exciting you so slowly and exquisitely as you feel his lips, but suddenly an important call interrupts you, Chan has to take it, telling you that all his attention will be on you in an instant, so fast as soon as he finishes an important issue and he turns on the bed to grab his phone so he stays positioned with his abdomen pressed against the bed. You frustrated and a little annoyed you get up from the bed and grab your phone which is on the other side of the room, but you came across a Chan so tender and focused on what he was doing so you couldn't help but take a video of him, to which he promptly notices and reacts in a sweet way.

(i had to made it a gif cause the video glitched the post)

The kind of selfies he sends you when you're not together because he had to go back to his city, followed by a: I miss you so much

I've been thinking about you so much, I can't wait to see you on friday, my princess❤️

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𐙚TAGLIST: @rylea08 @hann1bee @iovecb97

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