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sugudoe · 6 months ago

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𓈒ㅤׂㅤ ✎ ° 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑 ! ࣪₊ 𐙚

✶ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: being a kindergarten teacher is something you excel at, you even have two students you treat as if they were your own. not that they mind your endless devotion, much less do their dad, 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨, if you could spare some attention to him as well.

✶ 𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: papamin!!!!!!! honestly i love papamin so much, i wish i could make that man a daddy. while on the topic, nanami is girl dad code, but for the plot he is sukuna’s and yuuji’s dad. also i loved writing sukuna as a baby, he is such a menace, he definitely was that kid who bite everyone. just posting this because i can’t wait till i post the series i’m making, i had to do something before. divider by: @cafekitsune

✶ 𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬: pure fluff / ooc!sukuna / reader has no gender / no curse!au / modern!au / mention of death and grief (minor character)

✶ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.7k

Yuuji thinks you are his princess, and you let him play with the wood horses and gallops around your desk, sometimes you even play pretend with him, accepting the roses he plucks from the school’s garden and sharing your sandwiches with him. He loves you very dearly, it’s not a secret he keeps that you are his favorite teacher, but it is yours that he is one of your favorites as well.

Now Sukuna, his twin brother, is a whole story. The two and a half years old siblings can be perceived as the perfect opposites, because Yuuji is adorable and expressive in good ways, and Sukuna tries to bite your ankles whenever you move near him sitting on the floor. His sharp teeth are always on showcase by his little smirk, he is a menace.

You know Sukuna might sometimes dislike you, not because you have done him terrible wrong, au contrarie, you have been a good teacher, a good human! He tries to grab your hair with his tiny fists and you put him in your lap quickly, staring at him with a cute smile, he thinks you are encouraging him to leave you bald but he ends up not caring anymore, and decides to snuggle against you and sleep. Only to wake up later with a bite on your wrist.

It’s love for your profession and for the children that you don’t report any of this to the superiors or his parent, you think hopefully that you can change his ways, make him better. It does work, credits be given, he used to be worse! He used to bite the other students, now his teeth are all over your and, unfortunately, his twin.

It’s something you try your best to control, gods be good, Yuuji only whines before slapping his brother’s head, and then Sukuna cries and comes to you. You open your arms and again, he is biting you.

“Ow, Kuna!” You move his head away from your skin. “What do you eat to have such sharp teeth, hm?”

He doesn’t answer you, his big eyes are filled with tears and he is wiggling towards any skin of yours to sink his canines.

“C’mere.” You grab him and adjust the baby in your hips, before moving towards the box filled with toys and grabbing a plastic one, you take it to the class bathroom and wash it, while Sukuna sits on the balcony, staring at you with his sad puppy eyes. “You are so cute, y’know that, right?” He nods, which takes you by surprise. “You can not keep biting me anymore, Sukuna, you get this?”

As expected, Sukuna doesn’t answer this time. He only gets what he wants.

“But let’s make a deal, you don’t bite me or Yuuji, you bite this whenever you feel like it, hm?”

Sukuna is not supposed to be with pacifiers anymore, something requested by his parent and passed to you through your boss. So it’s a little secret to let him have the blue whale in his mouth, he bites the thing so deeply that by the end of the week, you have to change it for a red rubber duck.

It’s keeps going like this for a couple more days until you notice the progress being made, Sukuna always has the toy by his gripping hands or in his pockets, and whenever he falls to the ground or gets pushed by a classmate, his little eyebrows crunch into an angry face. You think he is going to jump the kid or run at you and be a little vampire, but instead he grabs his toy and starts to violently munch on it.

It’s adorable, it makes you want to eat him.

But you noticed, obviously you did, how Sukuna has anger issues, and being a baby he has no idea how to control the anger but to externalize it with violence, and you gave him a escape plan. Now, he isn’t so angry anymore, sometimes he just squeezes the little toy, he also doesn’t spend his time with only you or his brother, he makes some new friends such as little Uraume, who follows Sukuna around and both keep sharing their lunches.

You do find one more problem arising, anytime Ijichi, who you learn is their butler, comes to pick the boys, Sukuna cries desperate for having to return his toy. You tried to let him have but the man refuses and your superior reprimanded you once, after catching you trying to give it. The next day, you notice quickly that Yuuji and Sukuna both have little red teeth marks on their arms.

You sigh desperate.

After class is over, few days later, Ijichi is late for the pickup, so you sat both Sukuna (sucking his little toy) and Yuuji (talking your ear off) down. They stop what both were doing and stare at you, one with pure sparkling eyes and the other with a raising eyebrow. You laugh at that.

“My darling cherubs, we need to talk.” You sit on the floor. “Kuna, you are not allowed to keep biting your brother, you know that. And you can’t bite him as well, Yuuji. You have to go to your papa, okay?”

The little one nods at you.

“Sukuna, honey, you can’t bring the duck home, we tried. But you can find another one to bite, hm?” He doesn’t answer, of course, he is two years he is not going on a quest for a rubber toy. “I’ll talk to Ijichi-san, for you, okay buddy?”

It takes you by surprise when Sukuna gets up and moves to sit on your lap, snuggling his face to your chest. When your arms go to close, Yuuji follows his twin and sits on you as well.

“Thank you, sensei.” Kuna’s little voice melts your heart even more, you hug them back instantly.

“I’ll do anything for the both of you.”

You don’t notice the presence behind you, or the fact that it’s been there since you sat down, and payed attention to everything you said, but mostly by how Sukuna went for you instantly and thanked you. The little bundle of angriness has his eyes closed, but his brother stares behind your shoulder and gasp, wiggling out of your touch and running towards the door.

“PAPA!” Yuuji screams making your heart jump. You turn back, staring at the scene. A tall blonde man, with formal clothes, kneels to the floor before opening his arms and grabbing Yuuji on his arms, kissing the pink hair of his baby.

You have heard the gossips towards the twins’s father, how exceptionally good looking he is, most charming and polite man anyone has ever seen or meet. And that he is single.

Of course, because of Ijichi being the one to bring and get the boys and the first teacher-parents’s meeting of the year being in just a few weeks, you haven’t met the man yet, but he here is, Nanami Kento, in all his glory.

You get up with Sukuna at the same time Nanami get up with Yuuji, and you notice right away that in his other hand he holds a bouquet of purple tulips.

“Look, Kuna, your papa is here.” You bounce the sleepy head on your lap, he opens his eyes before smiling a bit, and closing it again. “I think he got pretty tired after the playground today.” You laugh quietly before staring at the man, his eyes on his baby, a small smile on his face as well.

“Pleasure to meet you, Y/n-sensei.” It’s the first thing he says to you, his voice shaking your smile for a bit. “I’m sorry about being so late, the driver got busy with some stuff, so I had to come. I got you this, for the inconvenience.” He presents you the flowers, in your mind, he was going on a date, never in millions thoughts you would expect this.

“Oh, oh! Thank you, they are beautiful.” With your spare hand, you grab the flowers and smell them, smiling sweetly.

“I told papa you like those, sensei.” Yuuji says, with his eyes closed and large smile.

“Thank you, Yuuji, my charming knight.” You put the flowers on your desk before giving a pat to his head. “And thank you again, Mr. Nanami.”

“Again, I’m very sorry. But now, I think it’s time we go, right boys? Your sensei deserves to rest after the two of you.” Nanami grabs Sukuna from your arms, the boy open his eyes again for a second before falling into slumber. You help the male grabbing the twins backpacks and both of you move towards the parking lot.

When Nanami puts the babies in their seats, he turns to you grabbing the bags.

“Thank you for being their teacher, is not an easy job, but they both really like you.”

“It’s my pleasure, really. Sukuna and Yuuji make this job really worth it.” You answer sincerely, the door to the car is closed and the boys can’t hear you.

“I heard what you said to them, about the bites. I’ll get the toys for Sukuna, thank you for caring for him.“ Before Nanami gets into his car, he stops and turns back at you. “Would you need a ride? After all we did kept you here for longer than anticipated.”

You stare at the sky, dark clouds already reaching the sunset orange and pink, even the moon hangs more brightly than ever. You are inclined to accept, but you hold yourself.

“I would, any other day, but there is so much I have to do in the classroom and to grade the kid’s exercises, but thank you for the offer, Mr. Nanami.” You both exchange a smile before you wave at the awake Yuuji, staring at you by the window.

The next day and the others after, surprising everyone, Nanami is the one picking his sons up. His back is always tainted with the sunset from the corridor’s widows whenever he stays at the door, and a dozens of mothers and staff keep staring at him, searching for any opening to create a conversation. You are putting Yuuji’s bear beanie on, when you hear your boss asking Nanami for coffee with the excuse of talking about the boys, you laugh silently before grabbing the twins’s hands and moving towards their dad, giving an scape for him to move away from the woman.

“No need for the coffee ‘date’, the parents reunion with the teachers is this saturday, we all can talk there.” You say a bit loud, enough to send the message across, and all those people ready to jump at the blonde male move away.

“Thank you.” He whispers before grabbing the boys in his arms. “No ride today?”

Every once in a while, after the first time meeting Nanami, he has been asking you if you need a ride, and with a strength you don’t know where came from, you refuse nicely. It’s not that you don’t want, would be stupid to, it’s more for the fact that he is dreamily, you wouldn’t be any better than those who salivate at the sight of him. You could be worse.

“Not today, Mr. Nanami, these two made a mess in the bathroom, although I think Sukuna has a talent for arts, he painted the walls really well.”

“God, you’re joking.” You sign no with your head and the man sighs. “I’ll ask for the price of repair, please don’t worry about it, it’s my kids, I’ll fix it.”

“No need! Seriously, I believe just water and soap and it’ll be fine.” You grab Sukuna’s cheeks and he hides his face in his dad’s chest. “But if not, it’ll be a cute memory in the future, when they move classes or school.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Yuuji squirms. “We’re staying with you forever, right Papa?”

Oh.

“C’mon, buddy, time to go home.” Nanami laughs his answer, and you move with them, holding their backpacks. It’s a little ritual now, you could say.

You wave them goodbye and return home that day with a slight tremble in your fingers, after this year most likely you wouldn’t see them ever again, and that fact made you terribly sad. You would miss pealing the fruits for Yuuji and being gifted half of it, would miss even the mark bites of Sukuna little mouth, even though he hadn’t been a menace in a long time now.

Admitting, you would miss Nanami and his lovely smile, the way he would ask you for a ride anytime. You should accept it, you know, but could you move on from this little crush you’ve been harboring, if you are meant to never see him again? Doubt it, no one can get over the Nanami Kento.

You sleep with those thoughts, these little moments you had with him and the sweet and gentle and chaotic memories you had with the twins. It’s a bittersweet feeling teachers have, you should be used to it by now, dealing with the fact that the babies don’t stay babies forever, only in your heart and memories. But there is something in that little family that shakes your core, that moves your mind and warms your heart, something that scares you.

Saturday comes but your anxiety stays. You decorate your classroom with a large table filled with charcuterie boards and juices, there is also paintings of the kids hanging by the walls, presents to give to their parents. All of them are on the corridor, you call for one couple after the other, for the intimacy of talking about their children.

You notice how each kid can resemble their parents in a comical and adorable way. Megumi, for example, who has his mom messy hair but his dad scowl, Nobara is energetic like her mom, and sensitive like her daddy who cries when gifted her painting.

You also see how they can be with their babies. Toge’s parents who are elated with your hand signs, and how you explain that you learned it in two months for the boy and has been using and teaching it in your class, for the other students to communicate with the him. Maki’s and Mai’s parents are stiff and bored, and you take notice of that to pay more attention to the girls, help if needed anything.

You do your job perfectly, but your eyes always go searching for a blonde man whenever you go call the next parents. He is not there yet, and you wonder if he won’t come. Maybe job related, maybe he forgot, you try to not be sad.

When you are taking Nanako’s and Mimiko’s fathers to the door, waving them goodbye, you catch sight of a man with beige suit and blue shirt, in his hands another bouquet of purple tulips.

“I told you we should have given something.” Mr. Geto whispers while staring at Nanami.

“Love, that’s not a ‘Thank you for being my kid’s teacher’ bouquet.” Mr. Satoru answers with a smirk your way.

“I miss when you would give me flowers.” Geto answers, his voice low because they are already by the end of the corridor.

“Huh? I gave your flowers last week?!”

Nanami and you are staring at the couple, until their figures disappear and both of you stare at each-other, smiling fondly at first and then laughing a second later.

“I’m guessing these are for me?” You ask when you move inside the classroom, Nanami following behind. You turn to him, and he nods, giving you the bouquet, perfumed perfectly. “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry I was late, the boys wanted to come as well but I had to keep them occupied and tired.” You nod laughing, before pointing at the table in front of your desk, putting your flowers there, he sits and you move towards the wall, grabbing two drawings.

“These are for you.” You sit by his side instead of in front of the man and give him the papers, he has a sweet smile while admiring the drawings. “I asked the class to draw their family, hasn’t had the time to check yet, but I hope it’s better than the one I saw earlier: the girl draw only her sister and their cats.”

“It’s perfect, don’t worry.” Nanami has his eyes on both drawings, side by side. You can tell which is which by the colors and traces, but none other, the art is basically the same. “This is Ijichi in the car, how cute.” Nanami points at the figure in a black suit driving a car besides the house in both paintings. You stares confused at the fifth stick person, besides Nanami and the twins. “Is that…?”

“I think so…” Your hands move to your mouth, hiding your growing smile when you notice characteristics in it that resembles you, specially a rubber duck in your hands, in Sukuna’s drawing. “I’m flattered they consider me family.”

“They are not wrong.” Nanami stares at you now. “That day we meet, you were helping them with one thing I had no idea how.” He moves the drawing to your desk. “I’m not their biological father, don’t know if you know that.” You don’t, so you keep yourself quiet and let him speak. “I was their godfather, been friends with their dad ever since we were little. Itadori Jin, great guy, that’s where they inherited that beautiful pink hair.” Nanami has a sad smile in his lips that break your heart. “He and his wife died in a car crash, first date since the birth of the babies, just two months old. Their grandfather was adamant on keeping them, but he realized he needed my help, so he let me adopt them officially.”

He sighs before grabbing his thighs.

“Recently I told them about their parents, that’s why Sukuna started the biting, his sorrow is physically showing. I tried to help but didn’t knew how, but you did, you handled it better than I could.”

“You are still a great father, they might not have come from you, but they are yours. And you did helped them, Sukuna might have received some slaps from Yuuji, but Yuu always hugged him whenever it became too much, and he listened to me instead of throwing a tantrum.” You hold his arm for a second before removing your hand. “You are raising them very well, Mr. Nanami, it’s not easy to be a parent, but you are doing fine.”

“Thank you, and please call me Kento.” It’s not professional, but you nod.

“Okay… Kento.” You whisper his name like a secret, and you wonder if you feel right, but it tastes like honey in your tongue. It’s just a second of both of you staring at each-other for his eyes to move to your lips. You should move back, but you don’t, nor you can. Instead, your eyes go to his pink lips as well. “We should wrap this up, it’s late, right?”

“Yeah, we should.” But none of you move, eyes moving to eyes and lips, over and over, you wet your lips, he groans and lunges at you. You accept him easily, moving your hands to circle his broad shoulders and touch his neck, while his large hands take your waist.

You shouldn’t be doing this, but it feels wrong to not be doing it. So you allow yourself to be kissed hungrily by Kento.

There is three knocks on the door before you both jump apart, your boss, the principal, makes her way in, eyes shinning at seeing Nanami.

“Mr. Nanami, so good to see you here! Would you like to come and have that coffee we were taking about some days ago?”

Kento looks at you, his hair is a little messy and his mouth is red, he looks even more ravishing than before. You cough awkward, grabbing your flowers, bag and the twins’s drawing before moving to his side.

“I’m so sorry, Principal, but Mr. Nanami is giving me a ride home.” The man has his hands on your back in an instant, moving both of you out of the class. “I see you monday.”

The two of you leave the baffled woman behind, Nanami has an eternal perfect smile charming his face, making you want to kiss him even more. Which you do, when he closes the door he opened for you, and enters the car you kiss him, when you both stop at a red light you kiss him. And when he let you at your house, his hands again in your back, he kisses you.

You are too tempted to bring him inside, even more to have your way with him, but he beats you to it, asking you to go out with him the next day.

It’s just the beginning of your blooming relationship, flowers every week, restaurant dates, kisses at every opportunity. You both keep yourselves occupied and yet reserved. He gives you rides home after most staff and students are gone, the boys happily talking with you all the way to your house, and he leaves you at your door with a peck the babies don’t see.

It’s at your last day of the year, all your students glued to you, crying red faces you promise them to always be there when needed, giving the parents your personal number, they happily accept it. Yuuji and Sukuna are the most devasted, their little hands keep you from moving far away from them, and when Nanami comes to pick them up, Sukuna cries together with his brother, taking you by surprise.

You tell them bye and run to your apartment, where you prepare a whole meal and dress nicely, soon you hear the door knocking. When you open, it takes three stunned seconds before two little babies are running to your arms, screaming happily to see you.

“Now it’s a good time to say, Y/n is staying in our lives.” Nanami says while hugging you, both boys in your arms holding you as well.

“Forever?” Sukuna asks, Yuuji stares at you waiting for the answer.

“Yes, my cherubs, forever.”

#♱ 𓂃 ࣪ ˖ on stage ! ᯤ #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento #nanami kento fluff #nanami x reader #nanami x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami fluff #nanami x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen nanami #gege when i catch you gege #papamin au

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kaeyas-beloved · 1 year ago

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a moment too late

Characters: Ayato, Diluc, Childe, Cyno, Wriothesley, Zhongli

— your husband doesn't make it to you in time...

CW: ANGST w/ very little to no comfort, gn!reader (they/them pronouns), scars (Diluc), blood (Diluc, Childe, Cyno, Zhongli), death (all except Cyno and Diluc), kidnapping (Cyno), minor Fontaine Act 1 + 4 spoilers (Primordial Sea Water - iykyk), spoilers for Childe’s real name

val's no sympathy novemeber masterlist

I don't know if I can take a month of hurting my boys....

Thinking about them not making it in time...

Ayato, who had been in an important meeting.

He'd given strict instructions to all his retainers and the Shuumatsuban to not interrupt under any circumstance. So, when one of the newer helpers knocked on the door, the commissioner was less than pleased. Without letting the young man get a word out, Ayato cuts him off, a sharp smile on his face. "Please, wait outside. I'll deal with the matter after this."

When the retainer tried again, a feeble "but, my lord-!" sputtering over his twisted tongue, the change in Ayato's tone couldn't be missed, and it left no room for interjections.

When a second knock echoed through the room some minutes later, it took everything in the clan head not to sigh out loud in front of all the powerful politicians and businessmen. This time, however, when it was the familiar face of Thoma that stepped in, a scarily straight face as his expression, something shifted in the male. It didn't help that the pyro user didn't stop his advancement toward him, even at the call of his name.

It was like the whole world shattered the moment the blond leaned by his ear, the news that you'd been placed in the nearest hospital plummetting his heart into his stomach.

There's this inner struggle that takes over, the role of a leader and your husband fighting against one another - he can't just leave so abruptly, but he also feels like he might crumble if he isn't by your side in the next ten seconds.

It's the firm hand that's placed on his shoulder that breaks him away from his thoughts. Following the arm he meets the slight smile of Thoma, "I have this handled, my lord. Go, be with them."

He's up and out of the room in an instant, briskly walking in the direction of the hospital. When he gets there he borderline demands the receptionist to tell him your room number, off again the moment she gets the last syllable out. Just as he reaches the curtain separating you from him, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest, a doctor steps out.

"Lord Kamisato..." his tone is grave as he blocks the entrance with his body. Despite the obvious attempt to stop the young lord from entering, your husband tries to sidestep him. He's stopped by a simple raise of the hand and he feels a mix of disdain and unsettlement swirl within.

"Please, let me speak with them," Ayato nothing but begs, something he never does. He's known as a negotiator, a logical reasoning man, he doesn't need to beg for what he needs in the political world, but for you, his world, he'd gladly grovel at this man's feet just for you.

The aforementioned man licks his lips, adjusting his clipboard so it rests against his chest, "I'm sorry Mr. Kamisato, but that won't be possible..."

The urgency rises and Ayato moves the doctor out of his way, stepping into your room. It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together about what was trying to be said, but your lover can't bring himself to believe it. Not you too.

The moment he's at your bedside he leans close, trying to wear a smile as he places his hand on your shoulder, softly shaking you the exact same way he did that very morning. "My dear... wake up. This is no time for your silly tricks, we have to go home and have dinner together like I promised." His warm hands move up to your cheek, brushing his thumb along your equally warm skin, but when you make no move or noise the reality finally sets in for him.

His broken smile slips and all he can manage is a soft call of your name. Of course, there's still no answer, and Ayato is stuck flipping between the different stages of grief.

What if he'd listened the first time? Let the retainer who initially walked in speak? Would he have gotten a chance to speak with you? To tell you he loves you? To say goodbye properly?

You can't actually be dead, right? There's no way this is happening to him again.

He starts to promise to spend more time with you, he'll take off as much time as you want him to, he'll take you to that restaurant you've been wanting to go to but couldn't bring yourself to without him, he'll visit the land of Liyue with you - he knows you've been gushing about the scenery and culture recently. He'll do it all and more, you just had to open your eyes again for him.

Silence.

"Damn it all..." he whispered, face twisting in agony. Of course he couldn't have it his way this time. As if his parents weren't enough, the world just had to take you away from him too.

The doctor watches for a moment as one of the most powerful men in Inazuma sheds tear after tear before him, the droplets falling and hitting your lifeless body. As Ayato sinks to his knees before you, the doctor takes this as his cue to step out.

For the next few hours, the hospital is noticeably quieter, no one daring to interrupt a man who's just lost one of the dearest people to him.

For the next few hours, Ayato's tears slowly soak your shirt, his grip on the bedding knuckle white, his sobs muffled by your skin as it slowly grows colder and colder, fighting to commit everything about you to memory.

That night, he could not bring himself to eat dinner, for all he could remember was you, the way you smiled at him and how it was all ripped away from him, never to be seen again.

———

Diluc, whose connections are spread all over the world yet no one could locate you.

It should be impossible. The owner of Dawn Winery only associates himself with competent business partners. So, how could it be that the best of the best from all walks of life and all backgrounds couldn't locate the one person he needed to find?

Tirelessly, the redhead looked for you. Many sleepless nights weighed on him from shouldering so many responsibilities at once. He constantly asked for updates on the investigation and every time the news that there were no advances was just another layer of stress for him. So, of course, the moment the word of your location reached his ears, Diluc was up and out the door, claymore in hand, a fury in his eyes that few have seen only a handful of times.

When he got there, there being some far corner of Starfell Valley on the mountainside, there was no time to process or ask questions. All he knew was that you needed help if you wanted even a chance of making it out alive.

By a stroke of luck, you managed to escape the Abyss Mages that had been holding you hostage, an atrocious act that was no doubt aimed to make The Darknight Hero suffer. However, weaponless and exhausted, the creatures of down under easily caught up to you, surrounding you and throwing you around like a ragdoll. Diluc counted seven - one hydro, two electro, two cryo and two pyro - each using the elements to keep you from running too far.

With a few swift strikes of his enflamed claymore, the cryo and hydro mages disappeared in a cloud of red and black. Of course, they'd be the easiest of the group to get rid of. The last four would be the real challenge.

In between strikes, Diluc managed to get close to you, bending down to your fallen form. “Are you alright? Can you walk?” He did a once over of your body, noting that dirt clung to you and a couple cuts littered your skin. You could barely move too, having the shit kicked out of you.

“Not very far…” you groaned, raising your body slightly off the ground. Your lover nodded, glancing at the enemy before helping you stand.

“That’s alright, just get to that tree over there. I’ll come get you and take you home soon.” Diluc watches for a moment as you nod and begin to make your way over, turning his back to you once you've made decent progress. Taking up his weapon once more, it's a brutal clash of sparks and fire as he lets his adrenaline and rage fuel his every move. Soon, one electro mage goes down, and then the second and then one of the pyro ones until all that stands between him and getting you medical care and a nice bath is a single pyro Abyss Mage.

The demonic creature cackles loudly, a shrill sound that echoes in the silence. As it begins to wave its staff, a shock of recognition strikes Diluc and he glances around, looking for where the fire-breathing faces are going to appear. When he doesn't spot any dread fills his being and he chances a glance towards you, praying to the Archons that what he's thinking isn't about to play out.

The gods weren't in his favour.

Time seems to slow as he watches the triangle of heads surround you; he watches as you slowly turn to face one head-on, your tired eyes widening as you register the situation. Dilcu's only able to catch you turning your face away before he attacks the mage while its guard is down, interrupting its early dance of victory.

The next few minutes are a blur, both for you and your husband. Everything hurts, any slight movement or breath sends shooting pain through your body. When Diluc picks you up off the ground you let out the most heartbreaking cry he's heard and it took everything in him not to just stand there and soothe you.

He mumbled apology after apology, offering words of comfort as he ran as best he could without harming you further. When he made it to the cathedral he was ushered out of the room, every nun available flocking to your side. Despite the overwhelming emotions building in him, Diluc lets you go, waiting with as much patience as he can muster, which isn't a lot at that moment.

It takes about an hour before a sister approaches him, every second that he waited excruciating. She tells him that while your face was unharmed, you having managed to lean out of the way just in time, your upper arm, shoulder and the base of your neck on your left side were burned pretty bad and that scarring was almost guaranteed.

"But are they alive?" is all he asks in return. He cares that you were hurt, but he cares more to know if you'll live to spend another day with him. All the sister can do is nod, informing him that recovery will be slow, but you are alive. She adds right after that while you passed out from everything he was still allowed to enter and sit by your side. So, he does.

The nun didn't lie when she told him that things would be slow. It took several days before you could be discharged, and even when you were the days and nights that followed were filled with more torture than the usual joy.

Your burns would irritate at the slightest things, and you started to doubt your looks, wondering if your husband would still love you by the end when the wounds were all healed. At night you were haunted by nightmares of your time in captivity, and by the face of the abyss spell that burned you. It didn't help that the face was red and fluffy, just like Diluc's hair, leaving you to back away from him every time you woke up from that recurring dream, your mind tricking you that that thing had come back.

And all Diluc could do was hold you close to his chest once you saw that it was just him. He'd rub a warm hand along your back as you sobbed and shivered, quietly blaming himself for not being fast enough - to find you, to defeat the enemy, to get you out of the way of the fight. If he had been, if he succeeded in any of those things, then maybe you wouldn't have to live with this pain and trauma.

You were alive, but at what cost?

———

Childe, who was all the way in Inazuma for a mission.

Your husband left you that fateful day with a tight hug, a promise to come home and a kiss on the lips. As he walked further and further away from you all you could think about was greeting him in the same fashion. Your touch was his favourite thing after all, a reminder that you're there with him and that you love him despite all his wrongdoings.

The day came when Ajax set foot back in his homeland, and the first thing he did was search for you at the dock. When he didn't spot you, he'll admit he was a little disappointed but didn't think much of it. You were most likely just relaxing at home.

Yet, when he walked through the door he couldn’t find you anywhere. “Strange… where could they have gone? Maybe mom and dad’s?”

A quick trip over there reveals nothing however, just the tidbit of information from his mother on how it’s been a couple days since you’ve visited and that you last told them you were needing to chop some firewood.

Now he was not only confused but a sense of dread plagued his chest. Hoping it’s just his normal worrying, Ajax bids farewell to his family and heads back home. Sure enough, he spotted some stacked logs off to the side. What didn’t make sense though was the lack of an axe and the footprints that lead further into the tree line behind your home.

Following the tracks, the male’s eyes widen and his expression falls as the patterns in the snow go from clean prints to frantic clusters, as if you began running. What really injected fear into him though was the barely visible Treasure Hoarder insignia buried in the snow, its gold sheen glistening from the sun.

At this point his feet had a mind of their own as he picked up the pace, his mind running a mile a minute with the scariest thoughts his brain could conjure.

He wasn’t sure if he should've been relieved or frightened when he found you lying in the snow. Either way, he sprinted the rest of the way to you, calling out your name. You were on your side, back to him; you must’ve rolled into the fetal position to stay warm.

And that’s when he noticed it, the pink tint of the usually pure white snow surrounding your fallen form. Panic shoots through him as he rolls you onto your back, his hand recoiling at the state you were in, covering his mouth.

"No..." your cold gaze stares up at the sky, skin lacking the warmth he craves after a long day. Between the folds of your undone coat reveals where most, if not all the blood flowed from, now dry from days passed. With a shaky hand, he moves the cloth aside, surveying the damage.

The cut was deep but didn't hit anything major from the looks of it... you would have bleed out slow and painfully, and the mere idea makes him sick to his stomach. More and more he looks at the damage done to you and the more his blood boils and his heart stutterers. You were innocent, his spouse, his best friend, you had no intimate dealings with Fatui work, so why you?

His eyes narrow back in the direction of the insignia, the sorrow morphing into anger; they were fucking cowards, going after you instead of him. At the sanctuary of your home no less.

Looking back at the body that once housed your soul, he noticed something odd about your hand. It was clasped shut like you were holding onto something.

He starts to pry your fingers open, and for just a moment he can imagine that you're alive, back in the warmth of your home, grasping his scarf in a game of keep away. He'd pull you close, wrapping an arm around you and trapping you to his chest, grasping your wrist and trying to get the red fabric from you. Your husband would laugh merrily, "demanding" that you give him it back or else, to which you'd tell him no, because as long as you had it then he couldn't leave for the day.

When your palm finally opens up is the same moment time really stops and the world doesn't feel real around him. Picking up the small object, Ajax clasps it in his own hands, bringing it close to his chest - his heart - in hopes of feeling just the last bit of you left behind. He won't ever know this, but what he's doing now was exactly what you did in your final hour - you held the tangible promise you made with him close to you, your thoughts filled with him and only him as you took your last breath.

From that day onwards, your wedding ring rests against his collarbone, a string looped through it. He never takes it off, nor does he remove his own ring, because to him, you were the only one fit to take the place at his side in life. He doesn't want anyone else to love him, because no one could ever love or hold him in such high regard like you did.

It was everything or nothing, and you are his everything. Since you're gone, he'll gladly settle for nothing. Anything else and he'd label himself a cheater to your love.

———

Cyno, who prioritized catching the mastermind, lest any more innocents get hurt.

The General Mahamatra trudged back through the desert sands, clouds of dust trailing behind him. His grip was tight against the criminal’s wrists, leaving no room for escape. While part of him was solely focused on the captured mastermind, another part of him was thinking about you and how he's going to make it up to you for neglecting you the last few weeks. How could he ever possibly thank you or repay you for your neverending patience?

Rounding the last rock, Cyno finally makes it back to where he left you, having instructed you to wait there until he returned. You know that it was vital to stay put, so why is it that you've disappeared? Eyes red like the sunset scan the camp, finding that nothing was missing among your personal belongings or supplies.

As he continued to try and piece together the clues, you stood frozen in the shadows, an arm pulling you against a chest, keeping you in place. The hand over your mouth didn't help quell your fear, nor did the warm, rancid breath that tickled your neck.

How hard do you have to stare at the back of your lover's head for him to just turn in your direction!? Apparently very hard, because no matter how much you will a telepathic message his way, he still fails to find you. Tears begin to slide down your face - is this really it? Will this be the end? When he's so close to you? Will he turn and walk in the wrong direction, giving the man holding you time to escape with you in tow?

The looming threat that if you step out of line you risk harming yourself and Cyno plays in your mind, but you also remember nights lying in bed with your husband, whispering reassurance to him that no matter the situation you knew he'd always save you. You had full confidence in his abilities.

Gathering your resolve you take a leap of faith and elbow your captor, biting the hand that impairs your voice. Making a mad dash from the hiding spot, you scream for Cyno, watching as his head whips in your direction.

It all happened so fast after that. One second there's just you, him and the two Eremites and in the next, you're surrounded. The mastermind Cyno had been holding manages to retch his arms free, whistling a tune causing other desert dwellers to pop up from seemingly nowhere. A capture net is being thrown over you, aiming true and trapping you once more. Cyno, now flanked from all sides, can only watch helplessly as two men grasp the ends of the net, dragging you like you're nothing but a sack of goods.

You squirm with all your might, but it does nothing as you're effortlessly tossed in a caravan, screaming and sobbing for your husband. Amidst the scuffle, the leader orders the others to "shut them up" and right after a powder is poured on you, the effects taking seconds to kick in.

You begin to quiet until you slump on your side, and Cyno feels the urgency build even more. He channels all the strength he has into at least breaking through to get to you, but the moment he does the snap of reins echoes out and the cart takes off.

So, he runs, because for once something much for valuable that his life is on the line. Because he can't afford to let the bad guy get away this time.

But a man cannot match the pace of a horse, and it isn't long before his stamina reaches its limit and he stumbles, and you disappear over the horizon.

———

Wriothesley, who believed he could save everyone.

By no means was the warden of the Fortress of Meropide lacking in skills. He's proven time and time again that he's worthy of the title of Duke among the underwater structure, able to shoulder the responsibility of keeping each and every inmate well cared for and as comfortable as possible.

Perhaps that was the reason he's failing now to protect those he really cares for, for you were no inmate, but rather the person he swore to spend the rest of his life with.

He knew that this day would come, but he was still so, so unprepared for it. The damn seal was due to break sooner or later, and it chose today of all days to do so. The evacuation was quick, maybe even quicker than the first one, but there was one difference this time around. Today was also the day that a couple Melusines had come in Monsieur Neuvillette's place, delivering some reports to Wriothesley while also taking this time to speak with Sigewinne.

"Where are they?" The Duke grits his teeth, running through every area he can reach. You weren't far behind, having insisted a second pair of eyes was better than one. When another room turned up empty he slammed his first into the wall, cursing loudly.

You did another look through in the places he missed before sighing, placing a hand on his chest, "We'll find them Wrio. Take a deep breath, please." He stares at you for a moment, doing as you suggested. You offer a small smile, "There aren't many rooms left, they've gotta be here."

"I know," he sighs, running a hand through his messy hair, "but we're running out of time."

Just as he says that the building rumbles and shakes, the sound of a pipe bursting in the distance sending fear through your body. All it takes is a shared look for you two to start running again, eyes and ears sharp as you try to catch even the slightest signs of life.

There were only two rooms left to check when you heard a call, not by a Melusine but by a pair of inmates. Turning to look, your stress levels spike.

“Shit, this isn’t good,” Wriothesley mutters, surveying the situation the moment you both made it over. One of the inmates was trapped underneath a metal panel, and his buddy wasn’t strong enough to lift it off him on his own.

They plead for help and you can see the cool grey eyes of your lover start to unfocus, a million thoughts passing through his mind. Time is running out, and as he's internally about to lose his cool the sound of your voice brings him back.

Laying a hand on his shoulder you squeeze firmly, "Listen, how about we split up? You deal with this and I go find the Melusines. We'll be faster that way."

His eyes widen at your proposition, and he doesn't even have to think twice about denying, "Now, hold on just a-!"

Another tremor, and you have to harden your tone to get your point across, “We don’t have time Wriothesley, help them and I’ll search the two rooms. When you’re done get them out of here, I won’t be far behind!”

He wants to say no, wants you to get to the surface and he'll take care of the inmate and missing Melusines, but as he looks at the crumbling Fortress he finds himself biting his lips before nodding. "You better stay safe, or else."

You smile, turning and disappearing into the second last room. A quick search proves nothing and when you leave you see your husband beginning to pull out the stuck inmate. You're able to meet gazes for a moment only to break it off, rushing into the last room.

It's easy to spot the brightly coloured blue beings amongst the dreary Fortress walls. "Thank Archons!" You sigh, almost tripping over your feet in your hurry to get them, scooping them up in your arms, "we have to go now you two!"

There's a groan of metal and the clatter of something collapsing in the distance, and it's safe to say you didn't waste time sprinting out of there. As you pass where you last saw your husband, there's a momentary wave of relief at seeing him no longer lingering there. You know then that he's gotten out, and that he's probably waiting anxiously for you.

The thought pushes you to get out faster, jumping over any puddles that have formed or debris. But just because you can jump doesn't mean you can dodge.

One piece then two fell from above, but when you look up dread courses through you upon the realization that a good section of the roof is about to drop. You acted before you could fully think and tossed the two tiny beings in your arms, sprinting just a little faster before leaping yourself. You're glad you managed to throw them out of the collapse zone, but you weren't so lucky, your leg getting trapped from midway to your knee and down under the pile of rubble. All it took was one attempt at tugging your leg out to know it was stuck under there good.

"Go," you pointed in the direction of the exit, immediately beginning to dig yourself out. The least you could do was get them to safety. The Melusines however hesitated, looking at each other before looking at you again. You knew they weren't strong enough to lift anything off you, so you repeated the one-word order, adding that you'd be right behind them.

You hear more than you see them run off, and after a minute of struggling you manage to free yourself, continuing towards the exit.

Wriothesley didn't stick around the entrance, instead busying himself with checking on everyone. If he didn't then he'd go mad and rush back in to get you. As he made another round he spotted the two creatures of the sea clutching onto the Iudex, their heads buried in his neck. If they were safe, then you must've made it out too, right?

Wriothesley gives the order to close the Fortress of Meropide off completely, and he watches unaware as he cages you in. It's only by chance that, once he's almost to the surface, he looks out the window of his escape submarine and through one of the windows of the Fortress. The horror sets in.

Even if it's useless, you stumble and limp up to the glass, banging on it, screaming for him. You're not sure what he'd do though, maybe you just wanted to see him one last time, wanted to tell him you love him, that it's not his fault. You stare at him, tears streaming down your face before turning your back to the ocean and sliding down to the ground.

Even if he can't hear you, you whisper out your love for him, how you'd never hold this against him. You pray to the Archons, to the Traveler, to Neuvillette, to Clorinde to watch over him for you.

You eye the rising water, and to make it just a little more bearable you pretend it's the first time you got Wriothesley to go swimming with you. You had dip your toes in first, as a show that the water wouldn't bite. He wasn't scared of the water, and he knew how to swim; he wasn't ashamed of the scars on his body either. No, he refused to go swimming back then because he didn't want to freeze, and it took you and the trust he placed in your word to tell him the water was perfect.

So, you repeat that same action, imagining Wriothesley is right beside you like that day years ago.

From the water pod, your husband watches frozen as you vanish in an instant, continuing to watch as the water rises until it's above the height of the glass. In that single moment, most of the warmth in his heart vanishes along with you.

"You promised you'd be safe... I trusted you..."

It was the first and last time any prisoner would see the almighty Wriothesley cry out, for he swore sometime later that he'd close off his heart and never let anyone get as close as you did. He knows deep down that's not what you'd want, but he knew he could never go through the same pain again and still continue to live.

———

Zhongli, who you were fighting side by side with.

It's always been like that, you and him up in arms against the world. It was like that in the Archon War, in the Cataclysm and any other time someone threatened the safety of the Lord of Geo's territory. You had his back and he had yours, something that only grew stronger as your relationship developed from war buddies to friends then finally to lovers.

It was... naive of you both to think that you'd be able to spend eternity together without issue. You were too blinded by the fact that you were both going to withstand time and he believed that there was no way he'd fail to protect you, not with the strength he possessed.

Your downfall was not due to time or a lack of strength, but rather your own desire to keep the man you love safe from harm.

Zhongli did not see the sword pierce your skin, but he did hear the strangled cry you let out. He felt the fear wash over him, he saw the bloody aftermath as you fell forward into him, no longer able to hold yourself upright.

Instinctively he wraps his arms around you, sinking to the grass with you. Crimson stains his hands and clothes fast as if the wound was his own and he knows right then that your time together is limited.

The pain you feel is searing and with each breath you take you're fighting to keep that air in your lungs long enough to get more. Your husband spoke softly as he stroked your shoulder, "Why did you take the hit for me?"

When you looked up into his warm, amber eyes you knew then that this was the last time he'd hold you, the last time you'd speak with one another. How interesting it is that you both realized at different points that this was the end.

"You..." you cough, body trembling in his hold and Zhongli almost regrets asking you to speak. He just wants to make you comfortable in your last moments, to act as if everything is okay. "You... were going to get hurt."

The man you knew to never weep lets a single tear slide down his face, a light chuckle getting stuck in his throat, "ah, how like you to put me above yourself. I'm the same way with you, so I suppose I can't point fingers, now can I?"

“No… you can’t,” you smile back, but it’s tough to force it through the pain. You cough again and this time a little blood comes up as well.

It’s getting harder and harder to breathe as the seconds tick by. “Morax.”

The former Archon stiffens; you rarely ever call him by his real name unless you're serious about something. "Yes, my dear? What is it?" When he sees you trying to lift your hand to his cheek, Zhongli dips his head, placing his own hand over yours.

Glazed eyes watch as you swallow, stuttering on your own breath, "I'm... I'm very proud of the man you've become compared to the Archon I first met. I'm very proud of the things you've done for Liyue, and I'm grateful for the things you've done for me."

Your eyes droop a little, and he knows your time to depart is near when he sees you rest your head against him more and with the way he has to hold up your hand for it to stay resting on his cheek. He swears he won't let you slip away until you've said your final peace.

"I... I need you to promise me something Morax."

"You know I will always do my best to honour your wishes," he tells you, his grip tightening on your hand. A sudden breeze picks up, blowing his hair in such an elegant way that your face softens, never not amazed by his beauty. Tranquillity washes over you, and it may sound crazy, but the scent the wind brought to you smelt like home, like a simpler time in your life.

All other sounds are drowned out, the wind blowing them far away so he could hear you clearly, "You have to find happiness again... even though I won't be there for you. Can... can you promise me that?"

He pulls you impossibly closer, removing your hand just to place a gentle kiss on your palm before returning it to its place, "I promise." In that moment he feels like he's lied to you, for he believes he'll never truly recover from your death, but that doesn't mean he won't try for you. And as you smile up at him for the last time, Morax feels that he could live with his answer to you.

Much like his friends of old, he knows he'll see you in the little things around the city - a lantern, a blooming flower, a cup of tea, the fires in fireplaces - as if you're watching over him. He'll continue to walk forward as everything passes him by, mingling with the ever-changing people and culture and surrounding himself with friends, because that's what he promised you, and he wants you to see that even when you're not by his side to experience it yourself.

"I'm happy now, see? But I will never be as happy as I was with you"

Tag list (both regular and event exclusive): @spoopy-fish-writes // @that-enby-alien // @xenuuu // @kaeyaloml // @x-zho // @mariposa666haruka // @quackquackmfs // @kunikuzushiii // @genshin-impact-writings // @ventisweetheart // @lordbugs @leena-shi // @ari-the-wr1ter // @xiaos-wife // @milkwithspiceyicecubes // @stygianoir // @francisnyx

@kaiserkisser // @multipleshadesofblue // @moloteco-real // @kithewanderingme // @scaramood

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pucksandpower · 9 months ago

Text

Brake Balance

Charles Leclerc x mafiosa!Reader

Summary: something about the brake issues that Charles had to deal with in Bahrain just seems off … so you take matters into your own hands while your boyfriend is none the wiser

Warnings: depictions of violence and minor-character murder

You make your way through the paddock of the Bahrain International Circuit, weaving between team members and mechanics as they go about their pre-race routines. The energy in the air is electric, everyone buzzing with anticipation for the first race of the season later tonight.

You flash your paddock pass at security and head into the Ferrari garage, eyes scanning the organized chaos for the familiar mop of brown hair.

There he is, sitting in his red race suit that matches the iconic color of the Ferrari he drives, focused intently as his mechanics make some last minute adjustments. You walk up behind Charles and place your hands over his eyes.

“Guess who?” You say playfully.

Charles reaches up and removes your hands, a smile breaking across his face as he turns in his seat. “Ah, mon cœur! My favorite surprise.”

You lean down and kiss him softly. “How are things looking for today?”

“Good, good,” he nods. “The team had to change the left front brake duct exit deflector earlier, just as a precaution. But I’m feeling optimistic, the car has been solid all weekend. I think I might even be able to challenge Max for the win if everything goes to plan.”

His confidence makes you smile. Charles has been working so hard, both physically and mentally, to start this season strong. You know a win today would mean the world to him.

“I’ll be cheering the loudest when I see you on that top step today,” you say.

Charles grins. “We’ll see. Still have a race to get through first.”

You lean in to give him a quick kiss and head to the back of the garage so you’re out of the way. The mechanics are in full focus mode now, choreographing their dance around Charles’ car with practiced precision.

Charles goes through his usual pre-race routine — sips of water, reviewing data on the screens, and loosening up his muscles. He’s the picture of calm, but you know him well enough to see the coiled adrenaline thrumming just under the surface, ready to be unleashed once he settles into the cockpit.

The time comes to head out to the grid. Charles pauses before he puts his helmet on, meeting your gaze. You close the distance between you and cup his face in your hands, kissing his lips sweetly. Then you take the helmet from him and slide it gently into place, brushing your lips over the smooth surface where his would be.

“Be safe out there,” you say softly.

He nods, face disappearing behind the tinted visor, and climbs into the Ferrari. You watch as the car pulls away, weaving between other vehicles making their way to the starting grid. With a deep breath, you head deeper into the garage and take a seat next to Charles’ performance coach, Andrea. He hands you a headset so you can listen to Charles’ radio during the race.

“Let’s hope for a good one today,” Andrea says.

You nod, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you fit the headset over your ears. On the monitors, you see Charles lining up on the grid in P2 after the formation lap, Max Verstappen’s Red Bull beside him on the front row in P1. The lights go out and the cars leap forward, engines roaring to life. Charles gets a good start, but Max keeps the lead through the first few turns.

The pack of cars higher up on the starting grid stays bunched up through the first few turns, but then you notice Charles starting to fall back little by little. His lap time slows as Max opens up a gap in front.

“The car doesn’t feel right, something with the front end,” Charles says. Your brow furrows in concern.

Only a lap later, George Russell in the Mercedes overtakes Charles on turn 4. Then Perez in the other Red Bull breezes past not long after.

“Come on Charles, stay focused,” you murmur under your breath. But things only seem to be getting worse. Carlos battles with Charles and eventually gets by, which frustrates you to no end. Charles fighting his own teammate for position is the last thing you want to see.

“Something felt very wrong with this set, the fronts were locking up like crazy,” Charles reports over the radio. Your heart sinks. Andrea shakes his head, equally perplexed.

The issues continue to persist. “What’s going on with my front left?” Charles asks, audible tension in his voice. “I just cannot get out of front locking. Everywhere ...”

Xavi, his race engineer, replies calmly, “We have temperature imbalance, higher front left.”

“How much is the imbalance?” Charles asks.

“Around 100 degrees.”

You grimace. That kind of discrepancy could make the car undriveable. Sure enough, Charles continues to struggle. It’s clear he’s fighting with the car now rather than racing the drivers around him.

“My car is fully going to the right when I am braking. With this I cannot fight, it’s dangerous,” Charles says, frustration seeping into his tone. You chew your lip anxiously. The rational part of you wishes Charles would just retire the car before he gets himself hurt trying to wrestle with it. But you also know that’s never been in Charles’ nature — he’ll keep fighting until the very last lap, no matter what.

Lap after lap, Charles battles to keep the car under control. “I think we can forget about driving now. It’s pulling everywhere,” he finally concedes. For a brief moment, you wonder if he’ll pull into the pits and call it a day. But no, your boyfriend is never one to simply give up. After the radio, through sheer force of will, Charles somehow overtakes George to reclaim P4. You can only imagine how hard he must be having to fight to keep the car in the track.

In the end, it’s a disappointing P4 for Charles while his teammate makes it on the podium in P3. As Carlos is lead to the cooldown room with Max and Checo, you watch Charles, frustration etched across his face as he tugs off his helmet and balaclava. He doesn’t even glance your way before the mechanics descend on him to start looking over the car.

Clearly the brake issues have cost him any chance at challenging for the win today. Most other drivers would have given up even trying to reclaim P4. But not your Charles. Never your Charles. Your heart aches for him.

Charles gets led away swiftly for the usual post-race weighing and interviews. You know from his body language that he’s utterly deflated by today’s results.

While the reporters pepper him with questions, you pull out your phone and scroll through your contacts. Enough is enough — something is clearly not right with Charles’ car and you want answers.

Your finger hovers over the call button as you contemplate who to reach out to. The last thing you want is for Charles to have to fight against his own machine again. A solution needs to be found immediately, and you know just the person who can help.

With a determined nod, you press call and lift the phone to your ear, ready to get to the bottom of these brake issues once and for all.

***

The phone only rings once before a gruff voice answers. “Boss?”

“Hello, Gianluca,” you say. “I need you to do something for me.”

You go on to explain in detail the brake issues Charles faced during the race, how the problems started right after they replaced the left front brake duct exit deflector.

“I don’t think it was just bad luck,” you say. “Something seems off about the whole situation. I want you to look into it, see if anyone on Charles’ side of the garage could have tampered with his car.”

Gianluca is quiet for a moment. “Sabotage, you think?”

“Possibly. I just … I can’t shake this feeling that someone meant for this to happen to Charles’ car. He truly thought he could at least try to challenge Max for the win, then suddenly it’s like he’s driving an entirely different machine. Too much of a coincidence for my liking.”

“I’ll look into it boss, don’t you worry,” Gianluca says. “I’ll go through the team with a fine tooth comb, see if anything seems out of the ordinary. If someone did intentionally compromise Charles’ car, I’ll find out who and how.”

You let out a breath. “Thank you, Gianluca. Let me know as soon as you learn anything. Charles can’t afford issues like this again.”

“You got it. I’ll be in touch.”

The call ends and you lean back against the garage wall, gaze fixed unseeingly out across the pit lane. Your mind turns over the events of the race, Charles’ baffled frustration over the radio. He’s worked too hard for too long to have valuable points stolen away by something like this. If there is sabotage afoot within the team, you’ll get to the bottom of it.

A few days later you’re back in your study after flying home from Bahrain. A knock at the door interrupts your work and you call for them to enter. Gianluca steps in, an uncharacteristically grim look on his face.

“Boss,” he greets you. Wordlessly, he steps forward and places a thick manila folder on your desk. You flip it open, eyes scanning over photos, documents, even what looks like stills of CCTV footage. Gianluca remains silent, allowing you to take it all in.

“I went over every inch of security camera video from the Bahrain paddock and garage,” Gianluca finally says. “And I found something.”

He leans over your desk and flips to a page in the folder, tapping a finger on a freeze frame showing one of Charles’ mechanics.

“This is Tomaso, one of the brake technicians,” Gianluca explains. “I noticed him acting strange all race day. Fidgety. Nervous. He was trying to hide it but his body language gave it away.”

Your eyes narrow as you study the photo. There is a shifty, almost guilty look about the man as he glances over his shoulder.

“I watched him like a hawk after that,” Gianluca continues. “When the team went to change the brake duct exit deflector, that’s when I saw it happen.”

He flips to another page, this one showing screen captures of CCTV footage in the Ferrari garage a few hours before the race start. You can make out Tomaso slipping the replacement deflector into his pocket before taking out another piece and installing it in Charles’ car. Your blood turns cold.

“He tampered with the part,” Gianluca confirms grimly. “There’s no doubt in my mind he switched that deflector with a compromised one. Sabotage, just like you suspected.”

You sit back, shaking your head in disgusted disbelief. “Why? Why would he do this?”

Gianluca shrugs. “Hard to say for sure. Could be someone paid him off, wants to see Charles fail. But what I know for certain is that he meant to damage Charles’ car.”

You drum your fingers on your desk, thinking hard. This level of betrayal from someone Charles trusts, it’s unthinkable. An affront you won’t let stand.

“You’ve done excellent work, Gianluca,” you finally say, meeting his gaze. “Thank you for getting to the bottom of this. I’ll handle it from here.”

Gianluca nods. “Of course, boss. Let me know if you need anything else.”

He turns and leaves your study, closing the door quietly behind him. You lean back in your chair, fingers steepled under your chin. Your expression is stone, but internally your thoughts roil with anger. Tomaso will pay for this, you’ll see to that.

Charles has enough challenges to face without sabotage from his own team. Your resolve hardens — you won’t stop until justice is served and he can race with full confidence again. The treachery ends now.

***

After Gianluca leaves, your mind turns over what to do about Tomaso. The team flew straight from Bahrain to Saudi Arabia to prepare for the next race, so he’s out of your reach for now. Still, you won’t let him slip away that easily. You pick up your phone and call a trusted associate, instructing him to organize a surveillance team to keep constant eyes on Tomaso until you arrive in Jeddah yourself.

The days crawl by painfully slow as you wait to confront the saboteur. You resist the urge to call Fred Vasseur and have Tomaso removed from the team immediately — better to handle this yourself. Finally, it’s time to fly out for the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix. Upon landing, your associate meets you at the airport.

“We have eyes on the target,” he reports. “He’s currently at the hotel bar, quite intoxicated.”

You nod curtly. “Good. Let’s pay him a visit.”

You’re led to the hotel and pointed towards the bar. Sure enough, there’s Tomaso, stumbling drunkenly out the door into the night. Now is your chance. You follow him down the street, waiting until he turns into a shadowy alley to make your move. In a flash you have him by the collar, shoving him against the brick wall.

“What the hell, let me go!” Tomaso slurs, trying to shove you off. But drinking has made him clumsy and weak.

“I don’t think so, Tomaso,” you reply coldly. “We need to have a little chat.”

His eyes widen in fear and confusion. You press on before he can respond.

“Let’s see, Tomaso Barbieri, born May 5th, 1992 in Turin. Moved to Maranello in 2021 to begin work as a mechanic with Scuderia Ferrari. Parents Lucia and Giacomo Barbieri, both schoolteachers. Sister Cecilia studying abroad in London.”

As you rattle off details about his personal life, Tomaso’s eyes grow wider and wider.

“What the hell, how do you know all that?” He stammers. “Who are you? Does Charles know the ugly truth about his girlfriend?”

You fix him with an icy stare. “Who I am doesn’t matter. What matters is that I know exactly who you are, Tomaso. A mechanic for Ferrari … and apparently a master of espionage and sabotage in your spare time.”

Tomaso’s eyes dart wildly, still trying to make sense of the situation in his inebriated state. He attempts an unconvincing laugh.

“What are you talking about man? Sabotage? I think you’ve had too much to drink ...”

Your response is to slam him hard against the wall, causing him to grunt in pain. You lean in close, anger simmering in your eyes.

“Let’s cut the bullshit, Tomaso. I know what you did in Bahrain, switching out the brake duct deflector to sabotage Charles’ car. Did you think you could get away with it? That there wouldn’t be consequences?”

Up close, you can see the color drain from his face, eyes wide with fear. He tries to retain some composure.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he repeats weakly. “I would never sabotage Charles’ car, I want him to win ...”

You slam him against the wall again, cutting off his lies.

“I said, enough bullshit!” you snarl. “We have you on video. We saw everything. We know you pocketed the real deflector and installed a defective one instead.”

He is trembling now, any hint of drunkenness replaced by sobering fear.

“Please,” he whimpers pathetically. “I’ll do anything, just please let me go. I made a mistake ...”

You shake your head in disgust. “A mistake? You betrayed Charles’ trust and tried to ruin his race out of what? Jealousy? Greed?”

Tomaso says nothing, eyes downcast in shame. You take a breath and continue in a low, menacing tone.

“Here are your options. One: you go directly to Vasseur first thing in the morning and resign from Ferrari immediately. You will leave the team and ensure you are never so much as in the same country as Charles again. Two: I deal with you myself, in a much less pleasant manner. The choice is yours, Tomaso. What’s it going to be?”

He meets your steely gaze again, jaw clenched. “I can’t just quit,” he says hoarsely. “My job is my life. You might as well just kill me.”

You purse your lips and shake your head. “I was afraid you’d say that. Very well.”

In one swift motion you draw your gun from its concealed holster and press the barrel firmly under Tomaso’s chin. He recoils in terror, plastered back against the wall.

“Last chance,” you say calmly. “Walk away from Ferrari and never look back, or your days end tonight in this alley.”

Sweat drips down his brow as the gun digs harder into his throat. His eyes are saucers of fear, flitting between your steely gaze and the weapon poised to end his life.

“Well?” You ask after a long silence. “What’s it going to be?”

Tomaso swallows hard, Adam’s apple bobbing against the gun barrel. When he speaks, his voice is a terrified croak.

“I … I won’t quit. I can’t.” He closes his eyes in resignation, awaiting his fate.

You click your tongue in disappointment. “That’s unfortunate. I wish it hadn’t come to this.”

Your finger tightens almost imperceptibly on the trigger …

“Wait, wait!” Tomaso cries out, hands raised in desperation. “I’ll do it, I’ll quit! Just please, don’t hurt me!”

You pause, gun still aimed steadily at his throat. “And why should I believe you now?”

He swallows hard, eyes brimming with tears. “I swear, I’ll resign first thing tomorrow. You’ll never see me near the team again. Just let me go, I’m begging you!”

You consider him coldly for a moment before lowering the gun. Tomaso sags back against the wall in relief. But you’re not done with him yet.

“Who paid you?” You demand. “Who put you up to sabotaging Charles’ car?”

The blood drains from his face again. “I can’t tell you that. They’ll kill me, and my family ...”

In a flash the gun is back at his throat, your grip like iron on his shirt collar.

“I assure you, I can do much worse than they ever could,” you say menacingly. “Now give me a name, or you can say goodbye.”

Tomaso shakes uncontrollably, tears streaming down his face. You can see the internal struggle, debating which is the lesser evil — defying you or those he conspired with. Finally, he slumps in defeat and leans in close, voice barely a whisper.

“It was ...”

He utters a name directly into your ear. Your eyes widen briefly in surprise before narrowing again. You release Tomaso and take a step back, processing this new information.

“I see,” you say slowly. You nod over your shoulder and two of your associates emerge from the shadows.

“Get him out of my sight,” you order. They grab Tomaso roughly by the arms. He sags between them, the fight gone out of him completely. You fix him with an icy stare.

“My men will escort you to the airport,” you inform him. “You will be on the first flight out of this hemisphere. And you are never to go near Ferrari or Charles again — don’t even think about trying to contact the team to explain yourself. As far as they will be concerned, you simply resigned. Am I clear?”

Tomaso nods wordlessly, defeated. The men begin dragging him away towards a waiting black SUV.

“Oh, and Tomaso?” You call after him. He glances back warily. “If I ever see or hear of you so much as setting foot in a paddock again, you won’t get a second chance. You’ll simply disappear. Permanently.”

The color drains from his face one final time. Then he is shoved into the back of the SUV, the door slamming shut behind him. You watch impassively as the vehicle drives off into the night, carrying the saboteur away for good.

Or so he thinks.

Unbeknownst to Tomaso, you have contacts everywhere, including at his destination. The second he steps off the plane, thinking he’s escaped your wrath, your local associates will be waiting. And his life will be ended swiftly and permanently, as promised. You don't make idle threats after all.

Betrayal of this magnitude must be punished, no matter how far Tomaso runs. The message will be clear — cross you, and nowhere on Earth will be safe. You've given the order, and your associates are nothing if not ruthlessly efficient. By the time the sun rises, there will be one less threat to Charles’ success. The sabotage ends here and now. You'll see to that personally, no matter the cost.

For a moment you simply stand alone in the dark alley, processing everything. This is bigger than you initially realized. Tomaso was clearly just a pawn, the sabotage orchestrated by someone higher up the chain — someone with enough power and influence to scare a man into risking his career and life.

Your jaw clenches as you think about Charles being targeted like this, not only being robbed of a deserved finish but also put in danger as collateral. Well, it ends now. The shadowy orchestrator thinks they can get away with playing games in the dark? They’re about to realize just how big of a mistake they’ve made.

Now that you have a name, you can start unraveling the web, tracing every thread back to find where it leads. And when you do find the spider at the center? You’ll make sure they can never endanger Charles again. For good.

Satisfied with this plan, you straighten your dress and exit the alley onto the brighter streets. Time to put your considerable resources to work. Phone records, financials, travel records — you’ll dig through it all, leave no stone unturned.

And you have a feeling the name Tomaso gave you is only the first thread. This goes deeper. But it doesn’t matter. You’ve dealt with far more dangerous criminal elements before. These shadow games don’t scare you. You’ll keep following the threads until you reach the source, uprooting the entire enterprise in the process.

By the time you reach your car, your phone is already buzzing with incoming calls and updates from your associates. They know the drill by now — when you give the word, they mobilize into action immediately, utilizing the full extent of your influence and power.

For you, they’ll tap every resource, call in every favor owed. Because you protect what’s yours at all costs. And Charles? He’s under your protection now, whether he knows it or not. So for his sake, you’re going to find the ones trying to undermine him, and you’re going to tear out the threat root and stem. Permanently.

Let them keep playing their games for now, oblivious to the axe hanging over their heads. They’ll find out soon enough that nobody crosses you and gets away with it. And when that time comes, no mercy will be shown. No loose ends left to unravel.

Time to remind them exactly why your reputation precedes you in certain circles, why your name is uttered only in hushed whispers. They’ll regret the day they dared threaten someone you care about. You’ll see to that personally.

With your jaw set in determination, you climb into the idling car. Time to go hunting.

***

Two days after dealing with Tomaso, you make your way through the Jeddah Corniche Circuit paddock towards the Ferrari motorhome.

Your stiletto heels click along the pavement and you glance down, frowning slightly at the flecks of blood still staining the pointed toes of your red soles. Such a shame about these Louboutins, you really love this pair. But a bit of blood is a small price to pay for protecting Charles, especially after personally dealing with the orchestrator who had been paying Tomaso off.

You had tracked them down and made sure they could never threaten Charles’ success again. Subtly, you crouch down and wipe at the stains, managing to remove the worst of it.

Satisfied, you straighten and continue on your way. The familiar bright red motorhome comes into view and you sweep inside, immediately spotting Charles standing with some team members. His face lights up when he sees you, excusing himself to rush over.

“Mon amour, you made it!” He exclaims, enveloping you in a tight hug. You melt against him, breathing in his familiar scent.

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss seeing you race for anything,” you reply, pecking his lips sweetly.

Charles takes your hand, leading you to a quiet corner where you can talk. “I missed you so much while you were away,” he says. “But I’m so glad you’re here now.”

You smile and stroke his cheek. “Me too, darling. But I’m here now and I’ll be cheering the loudest for you all race.”

Charles’ grin falters a bit. “It’s been a strange few days actually. Tomaso, one of my mechanics, just up and quit in the middle of the week. No explanation or anything.”

You school your features into a look of surprise. “Really? That’s so odd.”

Charles nods. “Very weird timing to just resign like that. But maybe it’s for the best if his heart wasn’t fully in it anymore.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” you agree. “The team is better off without any negativity.”

Before Charles can reply, Andrea enters the motorhome. “Charles, time for some quick physio before the race.”

Charles sighs but nods, giving you a swift kiss before following Andrea out. You watch him go fondly before making your way trackside to the Ferrari garage. The mechanics are in race mode, voices terse and movements precise as they make final adjustments on Charles’ car.

You stay back, letting them work, thoughts drifting back to everything you did to get to this point. A small price to pay to ensure Charles can race with a fair chance again.

Finally it’s time for Charles to get in the car. You approach as he’s putting on his helmet and balaclava, stealing a tender kiss that he returns happily. Then you lift the helmet and slide it gently into place, brushing your lips softly over the smooth surface where his lips would be. Your ritual.

“Be safe out there,” you murmur. Charles squeezes your hand, then lowers himself into the cockpit. You watch tensely as the car pulls away, the lights of the circuit glittering against the dark night sky.

In the garage you pace anxiously throughout the race, listening to the radio chatter. Again Charles qualified P2, behind Max Verstappen’s Red Bull. But this time, you have no sabotage to worry about. The Ferrari proves fast and consistent all race, not quite keeping pace with the Red Bull but allowing Charles to maintain P2 smoothly.

The SF-24 doesn’t have the speed to challenge Max, but there’s no issues, no sudden grip loss or components failing. Your shoulders finally uncoil with relief as Charles crosses the line to take P2, securing a podium finish.

The garage explodes into cheers and applause as Charles pulls into parc fermé. He’s beaming as he climbs from the car, pulling off his gloves and balaclava. You run over to the barriers and throw your arms around him ecstatically as soon as he nears.

“I’m so proud of you!” You exclaim. Charles hugs you back tightly.

“Thank you, mon cœur,” he says warmly. “It felt good to finally have a clean race again.”

You just smile knowingly, heart bursting with joy at seeing Charles on the podium where he belongs. During the celebrations, he keeps meeting your gaze in the crowd, smiling and pointing down to you in the crowd of red. As he sprays champagne with Max and Checo, he looks utterly elated and at peace. No frustration or disappointment, just the satisfaction of a hard fought race with the result he deserved.

Afterwards, in the privacy of Charles’ room, he takes you into his arms again. “I don’t know what changed or why, but the car just felt right this weekend,” he says. “It makes me so optimistic for the rest of the season.”

You stroke his face gently. “You deserve it. All your hard work is paying off.” Inside, you allow yourself a small, satisfied smile. Charles doesn’t need to know just how much work went on behind the scenes to get here. He only needs to focus on driving his heart out, and securing the championships you know he’s destined for. The rest is simply details.

“Thank you again for being here,” Charles murmurs, pulling you close. “Having your support means everything to me.”

You rest your head on his shoulder contentedly. “Always, my love. I’ll be right by your side.” And you mean that with every fiber of your being. No matter what happens going forward, whoever tries to interfere or stand in Charles’ way, they’ll have to go through you first.

You won’t let anyone toy with Charles’ performance and safety again. The lesson has been sent — Charles is untouchable now. Dare to threaten the success that is his, and you’ll come for what’s theirs.

But Charles doesn’t need to carry that burden. He just needs to keep his head held high and drive his heart out. You’ll handle the rest. It’s the least you can do for the man you love more than life itself.

So as Charles holds you close, you silently promise to always shield him from the ugly underbelly that lurks beneath the glitz and glamour of Formula 1.

He gives so much of himself already in pursuit of greatness. Let others vie for power and influence through dirty tricks and mind games. That’s not Charles’ way, which is why you’ll ensure he remains untainted. For him, you’d walk through fire without a second thought.

So really, what’s a little blood on your Louboutins in the grand scheme of things? A man like Charles Leclerc deserves that and so much more. And you’re going to give it to him, no matter the cost.

Let them keep playing their games in the shadows. Little do they know, you’ve already checkmated them all.

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whocaresstillthelouvre · 3 months ago

Text

Poolside

Husband Joel Miller x Female Reader

Rating: Mature. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: You and Joel take your first vacation together, all you want to do is read your book... and all your husband wants is your attention... and a seat. Warnings: Fluff, Joel Miller greatest husband award, smut allusions, trashy romance novel, chocolate chip cookies, use of a "Birds Of A Feather" lyric, no use of y/n, not beta read. Words: 900

A/N: This was written for @beefrobeefcal's Married Joel Sits On You Prompt Challenge and woooooo beefy! This was very fun and cute to write.

Masterlist

___

Immelda tells Berlioz she’ll never love him, not in a million years, not if he was the last standing man on God’s green earth. Your eyes fight to stay open, you’re sun drunk and satiated luxuriating in the bright rays of the afternoon light.

You’re savoring every minute of this vacation, the first you and Joel have ever taken without Sarah, the two of you didn’t even have time for a honeymoon between your busy schedules and parenting responsibilities. A full week in a vacation home on the coast, complete with a beautiful swimming pool and gigantic kitchen. Just you, your husband, and a couple of trashy romance novels you’ve been meaning to read.

It feels good to celebrate, Joel just finished his biggest job yet, one of those sprawling developments full of gaudy McMansions. Miller Construction is booming, much like Joel’s stomach. Marriage had been good to Joel. His mental health and financial stability had improved, and he seemed overall a happier person. The only drawback seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline.

You love your husband, no matter what he weighs, and if you’re being honest, you love knowing how happy and plump he is. He just can’t get enough of your baked goods, maybe it wasn’t a good idea that the man with the insatiable sweet tooth married a baker. Sure, you’re probably a little to blame, since you are the one that packs his lunch every morning, always making sure to include his favorite snack– your famous homemade chocolate chip cookies with dark, semi-sweet, and white chips. He can’t get enough of them, you can always tell when he’s snuck his hand into the cookie jar; the dusting of crumbs across his beard and shirt always gives him away.

Each vacation day has been lazy– waking up around noon, drinking mimosas and eating flaky croissants on the patio, discovering a new position on the chaise lounge by the pool, never having a schedule that you both have to answer to– this is the good life.

Joel swims and floats the day away, the water feels good on his often aching back. “You gonna join me baby?” he swims towards the edge of the pool with a wide smile across his face. You love all interations of your husband, but vacation Joel Miller might just be your favorite. The waves of his hair sit slicked back by the pool water, the water glints and glimmers across his body turned more bronze under the sunlight, a smile stays planted across his face miles and miles away from any responsibilities and stress.

“Maybe later,” you look up from your trashy romance novel, “Immelda just accepted Sir Sterling’s hand in marriage.”

—

Berlioz cages Immelda against the bruising stones of her garden wall, far away from the onlookers attending the regal party being thrown in honor of her engagement to Sir Sterling. He thrusts his tongue into her eager mouth, tasting the forbidden fruit of her. Finally, the story’s getting good.

The book drops out of your hands thumping onto your bare chest at the shock of Joel’s wet, warm body against your stomach, smushing your internal organs.

“This seat taken?” his Texas drawl drips with the sarcasm you’re always a sucker for.

“WHAT THE HELL?” you labor out, struggling under the full weight of Joel’s body.

“Figured since you weren’t answerin’ me, I’d get your attention somehow,” he adjusts his weight on top of you, giving you a bit of a reprieve from his full heft. You’d be a fool if you didn’t admit that you love the crushing sensation of your husband’s weight on you. “You’re quite comfy.”

“I’m glad I can be of service, even if you’re flattening my intestines.”

Joel moves to get up, but you reach an arm around him, pushing all of him back on top of you.

“Actually,” you gulp a breath in, “feels kinda good.”

He turns to you, removing your sunglasses to look into your eyes, reaching his hand down and placing it against your cheek. “I don’t think I could love you more.”

Everyone knows your husband as the often grumpy, direct, and intimidating force of a man. His workers dread him, the hardware store employees cower in fear at his knowledge, hell, even the oil change clerks hate to see him approach. What those outsiders don’t see is the softness in his eyes when he watches you and Sarah dance along to your favorite song, the hand he holds out to help you step down from his truck, the gentle touch of his lips against your skin when he gets out of bed to start his day. Joel Miller is a soft man underneath that gruff often flannel covered exterior. Now, all of his softness sits atop your body, dripping big droplets of water all over you.

“I feel the same way honey, but could you please stop sitting on me now?”

He chuckles as he stands, the shadow of your husband eclipses the sunlight before he lays his whole body on top of you; the chaise lounge groans at the weight of the both of you. He places his head in the crook between your shoulder and neck, sighing against your skin, soaking it with his wet body.

“Ow,” you whimper, when the spine of your book pushes into the soft swell of your breast.

Joel leans up, grabs your now soaked book and tosses it aside.

“Sorry ‘bout that, lemme kiss it better,” he says, angling his head down to place wet, sloppy kisses across your chest. “Hope you didn’t want to finish your book."

“I kinda did, it was getting to the good… smutty part.”

“Oh darlin’, I think you and I can make our own happy ending,” he says before taking your breast into his mouth.

#joel miller sat on me 2024 #joel miller #joel x reader #joel miller fic #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfic #joel tlou #tlou joel #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction

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juletheghoul · 4 months ago

Text

distraction

a/n: I'm as shocked as you probably are with posting a full chapter today, along with a pretty extensive ask on Friday but here we are. I don't know why this character has inspired such devotion and creativity in me but I am not going to question it. This might be the most toxic chapter yet lol and If you aren't into it. no hard feelings! This is un beta-ed, any mistakes are my own. Shout out to @foli-vora for being a light in a pretty rough week, and for listening to all of my rants and tangents. Love you girlie! 🩷Hopefully you enjoy!

Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, piv sex, dirty talk, gladiatorial violence, exhibitionism, Marcus being a possessive, jealous mess, creampie, heavily leaning into the ownership aspect of their 'relationship', master / slave dynamic (power imbalance), Marcus calls reader Girl, reader calls Marcus Dominus, let me know if I missed any!

Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader

word count: 2.7k

reblogs are appreciated

Prev chapter Masterlist series masterlist

The sun rose, much like it did on every other day, and you rose with it.

With a yawn and a stretch you dressed, cursing at the way your tunic tattered at the seams. You’d have to mend it later, you made a mental note to remember as you rushed to start on your chores for the day.

You found him splashing water from the jug and basin in his room, and moved quickly and quietly to help him dress for the day ahead. Silently he moved throughout the room, letting you adjust his clothes so they looked their best, he let you push his hair into place and to take the basin to be emptied while he made his way to his study. The sun was still high in the sky when the messenger came for him, bringing him the invitation from the Emperor himself to oversee the gladiatorial games in honour of his victory. His brow furrowed at the news, he would be in the pulvinus with the Emperor along with other Romans of proper birth.

He didn’t take the news well, to him it was a folly. He had absolutely no wish to be celebrated, as far as he was concerned, his march into the city had been more than enough but he could not deny the invitation. So with a clench in his jaw and a number of frustrated sighs, he accepted, and set about making the preparations.

The day of the games came and as his constant shadow, you followed to see to his needs and to pour for him. It was difficult to keep the excitement in check, every so often you’d glance down to your new tunic, bright white with details of gold to match your Dominus. Despite your many years of service, none of the people you’d served before had ever brought you to the arena, let alone in the presence of the Emperor, or in such a high seat as the pulvinus. Your march through the city towards the Colosseum was filled with cheers and the screams of people clamoring to see the General of the Roman army up close.

He did his duty, waved and smiled for their benefit despite his great discomfort, and you did your duty as well–kept your head down, and your attention on him.

The pulvinus was blessedly covered by rich fabrics, shielding the esteemed guests and slaves alike from the unforgiving rays of the sun. With his cup full, and his attention with the Emperor, you used the moment of reprieve to take in the sights. The opening games had come and gone and now the main event was to start. The gladiators filed out and took their place, awaiting the words that would set them on their path of violence.

They were a mixed batch of fighters, all of them fearsome in their own way. There was a small, stocky one, his face was all anger and his arms were covered in scars. There was one that towered over them all, his arms and legs long enough to keep anyone from getting too close. There were twins, both of them smiling for the crowd, clearly favoured from the cheers they inspired. There was another, and he was the one that drew your eye. His hair was black as coal with eyes to match and although on the leaner side, the strength in his limbs was obvious. His sword hand flexed at the hilt and you watched him twirl the weapon, test its weight before he looked up to the pulvinus, in truth he reminded you of your Dominus; twenty years younger.

He smiled up in your direction and your stomach twisted, for a moment you imagined your Dominus down in the sand, fighting for the crowd and it thrilled you. You imagined meeting him as a younger man, what he might have been like, what might he think of you?

“Girl.” His voice cut through your musing, his cup outstretched and you stumbled for only a heartbeat, imperceptible to anyone but him. His eyes tracked what had distracted you, and found the young Gladiator smiling still, and said nothing. His mood soured though and at once you chastised yourself for letting the arena distract you.

Marcus introduced the main games, the Primus, and he did so without flair, without embellishment but it mattered not, the people screamed and the men before you fought for their lives against a myriad of challengers. You kept your eye on your Dominus, on his cup but the young gladiator –Varus– kept drawing your attention, he looked so like your General that you idly wondered if he could be his son, could he have fathered him during his younger years? It was known to happen, did he see the resemblance? Did anyone?

Varus is relentless, and despite making sure your Dominus’ needs are met your eyes track him, enraptured. It is difficult to be sure who it is he smiles at when he glances up in your direction, it is most likely the high-born Roman women. His skill is undeniable, and again your thoughts drift to a younger, wilder Marcus, would your general have given you those smiles so brazenly at that age?

“He does like to put on a show does he not?” One of the high born ladies remarks and you cannot help but watch as Varus laughs, cutting down those who challenge him with ease, even as some of his brothers fall. “Look how he smiles, he is of a form today.” They giggle between themselves as he points his sword in tribute towards them, or you, or the Emperor, it is hard to tell.

“He definitely draws the eye.” Marcus speaks, agreeing with them, but you hear his displeasure and when you meet his eyes they are already focused on you. Your stomach drops at the look of displeasure on his face, your momentary lapse had not been taken lightly. Heat and embarrassment fill you to the brim and from then on your eyes find themselves downcast. “More wine, girl.” His tone is colder than you’ve ever heard it, enough to set your nerves alight.

“Yes Dominus.” Your tone, in turn, is demure and humble and you pray to the Gods that you get through the games without embarrassing him further.

Varus and the twins stand victorious, and the crowd loves them for it, enough to shake the ground with their cheers but you keep your head down. With your error, you expected Marcus to excuse himself and make his way home once the games were over but it wasn’t to be. The Emperor had arranged for his guests to exchange words with the victors, and so down into the sand you went, following where your Dominus went on shaky legs.

Up close, Varus was taller than your General, but not by much. He was strong, and lean, and covered in blood and gore, it did nothing to take away from his allure. It didn’t seem to bother him, if anything, it only made him more appealing. The resemblance was there, not as close as you’d imagined but there was something there, in the profile, in the gaze, he was a handsome man, but no one held a candle to Marcus in your eyes.

The Emperor bestowed words of congratulations, and they bowed dutifully. Varus smiled, boldly, unbothered by the ire of your Dominus, his eyes wandered and when they found you they raked over your form unabashedly. He drank in the sight of your thighs through the slit in your tunic, in the curve of your neck and although you had no real interest in this man, you couldn’t help but fidget.

Your Dominus clenched his jaw, but offered his good will all the same, albeit in a curt manner and once the pleasantries were exchanged, you were blessedly away from the arena, and off towards the villa once more. He’s eerily quiet on the trek back home, even for him and although he’s usually quite forgiving despite his gruff exterior, you pray to the Gods that you haven’t offended him past the point of return. His horse whinnies underneath him while you and his personal guard follow behind, and all at once he is off his horse and handing off the reins.

“Come girl, I have business here.” He barely looks at you, but you rush to follow where he leads, down a quiet street away from the chaos of the day. You have to take two steps for every one of his in order to stay close. You take it as a good sign, that he calls on you to attend to him after the business in the pulvinus, and you steel yourself to serve to the best of your ability in whatever possible way he may need. He winds through different alleys and it takes a moment for you to wonder idly just where exactly he needs to go before you find yourself pressed up against the wall.

“Have you grown tired of your Dominus?” His hand wrapped around your throat, pressing you up against the wall. Not tight enough to cut off your breath, but tight enough to make you stand on the tips of your toes. His eyes were cold as frost, but there was passion laced through his words as well as rage.

“No Dominus–”

“Do. Not. Lie.” His grip tightened for only a second, “Do you think me blind, girl? I saw the way you watched Varus.” The gladiator's name was a curse and for a moment you frowned at him, was this jealousy?

“Dominus, I could never, I was merely distracted–” You brought your hands up, trying vainly to soothe him with gentle touch but the anger burned hot within him, and he stepped closer, kicking your legs apart to press his knee between them.

“Yes, distracted by him, he caught your eye. Do you desire him?” You felt your heart racing, thumping against his palm at your throat, “Tell me girl, have you forgotten that you belong to me? Do you wish to belong to another?”

“No Dominus! Only you, I–I could not help but notice Varus–” His jaw clenched at the sound of the other man's name upon your tongue. “Because, because he resembled you, Dominus.”

His anger faltered for a moment, but the frown remained, and so you continued.

“He looked so like you Dominus, and I couldn’t help but imagine you at that age, fighting and smiling at me. I do not desire anyone else, I do not wish to belong to anyone else.” You brought your hands up, tentatively placing one upon his at your throat, and the other on his chest.

“Did that excite you? Do you wish me to be younger?” There was a vulnerability in his eyes then, obscured by anger but shining through all the same and had he been anyone else, you might have laughed at the absurdity of his complex.

“It only excited me, to imagine you smiling at me, fighting for me Dominus. I do not wish you to be any other way.” Your hands moved in tandem, one stroking at his arm softly, the other sliding down his chest, towards where his passion grew and pressed against your hip. “Look into my eyes and see the truth in my words, I belong to you, mind, body and soul, only you.” His grip loosened, but he didn’t let go.

“Can you not see how much I desire you? How my heart beats only to the tune of your pleasure?” He isn’t unaffected by your words, you see him drink them down like a fine wine, and he sighs heavily at the feel of your palm on his manhood. “Take me, here and now Dominus, my want for you drips onto my thighs.”

His eyes close and a heavy breath escapes his lips and you see your chance, you see the tiny fracture in his armor. “May I have your mouth Dominus?” You pulled him closer, while guiding his free hand to the Elysian fields between your legs. His fingers slipped under your coverings and found you wet and wanting and all at once his violence is coloured with passion instead of anger.

“You will never belong to another, do you understand me girl?” Frantically he pulls at your tunic, moving it up, and pulling the neck down to bare your breasts to him, uncaring of the people who happen by.

“You are mine, all of you, is mine.” His mouth pressed to yours roughly, stealing the breath out of your lungs. Your hands fumbled at his robes, joining in his madness and releasing his cock. He doesn’t let you touch it however, instead he turns you around and pulls your hips out. You hear him spit into his hand before lining himself up at the mouth of your sex, barely giving you a moment before burying himself to the hilt.

You can’t help but moan and hold onto his arms, the grit of the wall pressed up against your face. His hand wrapped around your throat once more, holding you still while his hips drove forward, filling you over and over without respite, his other hand found your breast and held it tight, fanning the flames of your arousal for him.

“This cunt—“ his mouth pressed against your ear, breathing harshly with the force of his exertion, “is mine, mine alone.” The moan clawed its way out from your throat, that he would be this affected by a simple glance should have scared you, but it didn’t. It only made your arousal flow like seawater.

Your cunt was the altar of his devotion, and his prayers were violent.

“Yes Dominus, yours alone.” You pushed back, turning your face as best you could to look him in the eye and his expression pulled another sound from your throat. He was enraptured, eyes blown black and mouth slack as his hips drilled, bouncing against the plump flesh of your backside. “I want to look at you Dominus, I want your mouth–” He groaned, pulling out quickly to turn you back around and within a breath he had one of your legs wrapped around his hip, his hand holding it at the knee, and his cock buried deep. His other hand held you firm by the throat.

“Tell me girl, tell me you’re mine, only mine.” There was a desperation in his voice that pulled at something within you, something tender despite his brusque movements.

“I’m yours Dominus, I belong to you–” You threaded your fingers into his hair and yanked him close to you, your grip tight and he moaned, unabashedly, “I only ever want to be yours.”

His eyes close before his lips have found yours, and you feel the way his pace stutters, he is close and all at once you need to feel him spill inside, his need to stake his claim burning you up like a fever. You move one hand down to your sex, to the swollen bundle of nerves begging for attention, and with the other, you hold his hand to your throat.

“Please Dominus, please fill me with your gift.” You moan the words out, and smile at the way he grinds himself deep with a low groan. The coil in your belly snaps as you feel him spill inside, and your flutters make him hiss, his mouth surging forward to claim yours hard enough to hurt but it matters not. Your heart and cunt are full with him just as it should be.

His breath comes in pants as he removes his hand from your neck, and your breath hitches when he brushes his lips against your skin in silent apology. You know the moment will pass, and that soon, his mood will change and this interlude will end, as all interludes must but you seize the moment anyway, and pull his face up to meet his eyes.

“I speak truth Dominus, my heart fills with joy to be yours.” Softly, you wrap your arms around his neck and bring him close, for a moment you are worried that as his blood cools, so does his passion for you but he proves you wrong, and lets you kiss him. More than that, he keeps kissing you as he set your robes to right with gentle hands before pulling out with a hiss. He does not respond, there is no need to, his eyes speak for him.

Within a few heartbeats, the look is gone and his usual mask is back in place.

“Come girl, let us away.”

“Yes Dominus.”

—

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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #marcus acacius #general marcus acacius #marcus acacius x reader #marcus acacius x female reader #marcus acacius x you #marcus acacius smut #marcus acacius x y/n #general Marcus #gladiator 2 #gladiator ii #general acacius #gladiator 2 fanfiction

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lecsainz · 2 years ago

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could you talk abt riding charles for the first time? 🤠

just ride

pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: (+18) smut, reader riding, dirty talk and unprotected sex, minors dni!

authors note: I'm not sure if this is how you meant it, but I hope you like it. and the playlist this time was a mix of songs from ariana and lana (the title says a lot...)

word count: 2.6K

Y/N entered the apartment's balcony, the warm breeze of the summer night caressing her skin as she admired the breathtaking view of Monaco's skyline. She knew Charles was on an important call with his engineer, discussing technical details of the upcoming race, but she couldn't resist the urge to tease him.

Dressed in a sheer, lacy nightgown that left little to the imagination, she walked up behind him, running her fingers lightly over his shoulder. Charles glanced at her, his eyes widening in surprise and desire as he tried to maintain his composure on the call.

Y/N whispered in his ear, her voice husky and filled with seduction, "You look so focused, my love. I thought you might need a little distraction."

Charles cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice steady as he responded to his engineer. "Uh, yes, we'll discuss that later… Sorry, I got…distracted for a moment." He shot Y/N a playful yet pleading look, silently begging her to continue.

She moved closer, her body pressing against his back as she gently slid herself onto his lap. Charles's breathing hitched, and his grip on the phone tightened. Y/N could feel his growing arousal beneath her, making her smile with satisfaction.

With a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, Y/N began to sway her hips slowly, grinding against him in a tantalizing rhythm. She trailed her fingers along his jawline, her lips brushing against his earlobe as she whispered, "I want to feel you, Charles. Right here, right now."

Charles's voice wavered slightly as he tried to maintain his professional tone. "Yes, we'll…we'll make the necessary adjustments… I understand… Just give me a moment." He struggled to concentrate on the call, his attention completely captured by the sensation of Y/N's body against his.

Y/N continued to move, her movements growing more insistent as she felt Charles's control slipping away. She nipped at his earlobe, her hot breath fanning across his neck, and whispered, "I want you, Charles. I want you to lose yourself in me."

He cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure. "I… I'll call you back.” Unable to resist any longer, Charles ended the call abruptly, tossing his phone aside. He turned his full attention to Y/N, his eyes filled with raw desire. "You're going to be the death of me, Y/N." he growled, his voice laced with need.

His eyes locked with Y/N's, widening in surprise and desire as he took in her appearance.

As his hand moved to caress her cheek, he felt the delicate fabric of her nightgown and realized there was nothing beneath it. His breath hitched, and his heart raced with anticipation. "Y/N," he murmured, his voice husky with need, "You're not wearing anything underneath."

Y/N's lips curled into a playful smile as she leaned closer, her voice low and seductive. "I wanted to surprise you, Charles. I want you to see just how much you excite me."

Charles's eyes darken with desire as he tightens his grip on Y/N's buttocks, drawing her even closer to him. The realization that she's not wearing anything beneath the nightgown sends a surge of excitement through his veins. He can't resist the temptation to tease her, to play with her desires. With a mischievous grin, he slides a finger along her slick folds, feeling her wetness coating his touch.

Y/N's desperate moan only fuels his desire further. "You're so wet, mon amour." he growls, his voice thick with arousal. Y/N's breath hitches at his words, her eyes filled with a mix of anticipation and need.

"Charles," she whispers, her voice laced with desire. "I want to ride you right here on the balcony. I want to take control and show you how much I want you."

"Oh God, Y/N." A low, guttural groan escapes Charles's lips as he nods, his eyes locked with hers. "The idea of you riding me, taking charge… To feel you riding me, your body moving against mine." he urges, his voice husky with desire.

Y/N's eyes burned with desire as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against Charles's ear. Her voice was laced with a seductive plea. "Take off your boxers, Charles. I want to feel all of you."

A low groan escaped Charles's lips as he eagerly obliged, sliding his boxers down his legs, his arousal fully exposed. The cool breeze of the Monaco sea caressed their heated bodies, heightening their sensations.

They were both aware of the potential risk of being seen by visitors to the Monaco seaside, but the thrill of being exposed only heightened their arousal. They were lost in their own world, fueled by passion and the breathtaking view before them.

She positioned herself on his lap, her legs straddling him, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace. Her eyes never left his as she slowly sank down, feeling him fill her completely. A gasp escaped her lips as she adjusted to his size.

Y/N began to move, a rhythm of urgency and desire taking over. Her hips rocked back and forth, riding him with increasing speed. Charles's grip on her tightened, his hands gripping her hips as he matched her movements.

The intensity grew, their bodies moving in perfect synchronization. Each thrust brought them closer to the edge, their moans mingling in the air. Y/N could feel the tension building within her, the coil of pleasure tightening with each passing second.

Charles's eyes bore into hers, a mix of ecstasy and astonishment evident in his gaze. "Oh God." he gasped, his voice strained. "You're driving me insane. Don't stop."

With every upward motion, she quickened her pace riding him harder and faster, lost in the throes of passion.

Charles's hands traced a fiery path over her skin, his touch leaving a trail of sparks in its wake. His voice, husky and filled with desire, whispered dirty words of encouragement in her ear, igniting her passion even further.

"You're so fucking hot, Y/N." he growled, his voice dripping with lust. "I love how wet and tight you are for me. Ride me, ma belle. Show me how much you want it."

His words sent shivers down her spine, fueling her primal instincts. With renewed determination, she quickened her pace, her body moving in perfect harmony with his. Their moans mingled together, filling the room with their raw desire.

Charles's hands gripped her hips, guiding her movements, his grip firm and demanding. "That's it, baby," he encouraged. "Grind on me. Fuck me like you mean it. I can't get enough of you."

The intensity grew with each passing moment, their bodies consumed by a maddening frenzy of pleasure. The sound of their skin slapping together mixed with their breathless moans, creating a symphony of passion.

As they rode the waves of ecstasy, Y/N could feel the familiar tightening in her core, the telltale sign of her impending release. Charles sensed her nearing climax and intensified his efforts, his touch becoming more urgent and his words more fervent.

Charles's hands roamed over her body, his touch igniting her further. He whispered dirty words of encouragement, fueling her desire even more.

As Y/N straddled Charles, she could feel his hardness beneath her, pulsating with desire. She began to move, her hips grinding against him, seeking a deeper connection. With each thrust, he moaned, his voice filled with unbridled pleasure.

"Fuck, Y/N," he groaned, his voice husky. "You feel so good. Ride me harder, mon amour. Show me how much you want it."

His words fueled her desire, and she rocked her hips with more intensity, their bodies creating a rhythm that echoed through the room. As their passion intensified, Charles leaned forward, capturing one of her breasts in his mouth. His tongue swirled around her hardened nipple, and she couldn't help but let out a loud, uninhibited moan.

The sound of her pleasure only spurred him on, and he continued to lavish attention on her breasts, alternating between gentle nips and lingering sucks. As Y/N's moans grew louder, her nails instinctively dug into Charles's back, leaving a trail of marks as a testament to her ecstasy.

"Shh, mon amour," Charles whispered, his voice filled with a mix of desire and urgency. "We have to be quiet, remember? We're out here on the balcony where anyone could hear us."

Y/N bit her lip, trying to stifle her moans as she continued to ride him. Her voice came out in breathless whispers. "I'll be good, Charles." Y/N's eyes widened with anticipation, her voice hushed but filled with passion. "I'll be as quiet as I can, but I can't promise to hold back when you feel this good inside me."

Charles's grip tightened on her hips, his thrusts growing more urgent. "Hold on tight, cherie, and ride me harder. Show me how much you want it, how much you crave my cock."

Y/N bit her lip, her voice barely a whisper. "I can't hold back anymore, Charles. I need you to fuck me harder and deeper."

Charles reveled in the sensation of her nails raking across his skin, the mixture of pleasure and pain heightening their connection. He couldn't help but growl in response, his own pleasure reaching new heights.

"You're so fucking sexy, mon amour." he rasped, his voice dripping with desire. "I want to feel you come undone beneath me."

As the intensity of their lovemaking reached its peak, Charles felt himself on the edge of release. With each thrust, he could sense Y/N's mounting pleasure, her moans becoming more desperate and her body trembling beneath him.

"You're so tight. I'm close, mon amour. I want to come with you." he growled, his voice filled with raw desire.

Charles could feel her walls pulsating around him, signaling her imminent climax. His hand slipped between their bodies, finding her sensitive bundle of nerves. He began to rub it in firm, circular motions, matching the rhythm of their bodies.

Y/N's eyes rolled back in ecstasy as the dual sensations overwhelmed her. She gripped Charles tightly, her nails digging into his back as she teetered on the edge.

"Oh God, Charles," she gasped, her voice strained with pleasure. "Don't stop. I'm so close."

With an intensity fueled by their shared desire, Charles adjusted his angle, hitting a spot deep within her that sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body. His pace quickened, his grip on her waist tightening as he chased their release.

Charles's voice dripped with wickedness as he encouraged her further. "That's it, baby. Let go for me. Come all over my cock. Show me how much you want it."

Y/N's body tensed as the pleasure coiled tightly within her, her inner walls pulsating around him. She threw her head back, her moans growing louder and more urgent. And at that moment, as Charles's own release washed over him, he watched with satisfaction as Y/N surrendered to the throes of ecstasy.

As Y/N reached the peak of her pleasure, her body convulsed with waves of ecstasy. She cried out his name, her voice filled with unbridled desire. "Charles, oh God! I'm… I'm coming!"

He watched in awe as she unraveled in his arms, her body trembling with bliss. In one swift motion, Charles lifted Y/N off his lap and guided her to lie back on the sofa. He positioned himself between her legs, his gaze locked with hers as he entered her once again. The familiar heat and tightness surrounded him, and he began to move with a relentless rhythm.

Y/N moaned and clung to him, her nails digging into his back as their bodies collided in a delicious frenzy. She reveled in the feeling of being taken by him, her pleasure building rapidly once more. "Don't hold back, Charles. I want to feel every inch of you." she whispered, her voice filled with a mix of desperation and need.

He obliged, his thrusts becoming harder and more urgent, his control slipping away as the intensity consumed him. Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, a symphony of passion and desire. The sounds of their gasps and moans mingled with the gentle breeze of the balcony, a testament to the raw intensity of their connection.

With each thrust, they inched closer to the edge, teetering on the precipice of their release. And when it finally came, it was a torrential wave crashing over them. Y/N cried out his name, her body quaking in ecstasy, while Charles groaned in satisfaction, his body pulsating with pleasure.

Y/N's body trembled with aftershocks as she slowly caught her breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Charles held her close, their bodies still intertwined, as they both basked in the aftermath of their passionate encounter. He leaned in, pressing soft kisses along Y/N's neck and collarbone.

He chuckled softly, his voice filled with disbelief and delight. "I can't believe we just did that on the balcony," he whispered, his breath warm against her skin. "You have to ride me more often, mon amour. Seeing you on top of me like that… it's an image I'll never forget."

Y/N blushed, a mixture of embarrassment and satisfaction washing over her. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with affection and a hint of mischief. "Well, maybe we can find some more adventurous places to explore, Charles." she teased, her voice laced with newfound confidence.

He grinned, his fingers tracing circles on her bare back. "Oh, I'm all for that, ma belle."

As they sat there, wrapped in each other's arms, they knew that their love was a flame that burned fiercely, igniting not only their bodies but also their souls. In the midst of their passion and vulnerability, they had discovered a deeper connection, an unbreakable bond that would carry them through any obstacle.

And as they gazed out at the breathtaking view of Monaco's sparkling coastline from their balcony, the sound of Charles's ringing phone interrupted the moment of bliss. He reluctantly pulled away from Y/N, reaching for his phone with a slightly exasperated sigh.

"It's Xavi." he explained, a hint of frustration in his voice.

Y/N nodded understandingly, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest. "Go ahead and take the call, Charles. I'll wait for you."

He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before answering the call. As he listened to his engineer's urgent voice on the other end, Y/N took the opportunity to appreciate the sight before her—Charles, half-naked and still flushed from their passionate encounter, his focus shifting between her and the conversation.

Charles's expression changed from annoyance to intrigue as he engaged in the conversation. He was visibly engrossed in the discussion, occasionally nodding or asking questions. Y/N couldn't help but admire his dedication and talent, even in the midst of their intimate moments.

After a few minutes, Charles concluded the call, a satisfied smile gracing his lips. He set his phone aside and turned his attention back to Y/N, his eyes filled with a mixture of desire and admiration.

"Sorry about that, mon amour," he said, his voice husky with lingering lust. "But where were we?"

Y/N smirked, pulling him closer and trailing her fingertips along his bare chest. "I believe we were in the middle of something quite pleasurable."

Charles's eyes sparkled mischievously as he scooped Y/N up in his arms, effortlessly carrying her to their bedroom. She let out a playful squeal, her legs wrapping around his waist.

"Are you ready for round two, mon amour?" he whispered, his voice filled with anticipation.

Y/N grinned, her fingers running through his tousled hair. "Oh, I'm more than ready." she replied, her voice brimming with excitement.

And as the door closed behind them, their laughter and passionate whispers filled the air, leaving the rest of their passionate escapades to be explored and savored in the privacy of their bedroom.

#f1 fic #f1 fics #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x oc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc #f1 smut #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc one shot #smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fic #fic request #fic #f1 fanfic

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candyskiez · 1 year ago

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so, you've heard shows be recommended because they had gay characters. you don't really know what they're actually about though, and don't know if they'd be something you'd be into and are worried about spoilers. here's spoiler free plot summaries of em!

The Owl House

The Owl House starts out as a typical teenage girl goes into a fantasy realm story, but with a twist. Actions have consequences. The protagonist is a girl named Luz Noceda, who was being sent to a camp to make her behave normally by her mother after causing too much trouble at school. She ends up finding a place she's always dreamed of: a fantasy world. A world where everyone's so much weirder than she is. And she thinks, maybe if I don't belong out there, maybe people will like me here. Maybe I can be special here.

It's a story about found family, propaganda, erased history, living with disability, religious trauma, and neurodivergence. It's fundamentally a show about people who's brains work differently finding each other and making a family that treats them right. Definitely my favorite of the ones on this list. It's about people who've been oppressed being pissed about it and about finding yourself again after giving up on everyone around you for so long. It's basically a show about being a minority and trying to be understood and to understand yourself in the process. It's about growing up neurodivergent and how isolating it feels and figuring yourself out. It's about repairing broken relationships and parents who fuck up. And it's just. Such a love letter to anyone who was the weird kid in school. It's sad and heartbreaking and also so hopeful, and it's wonderful.

Content warnings: Abuse, Death, Grief, Animal Death, Suicidal thoughts, Vague suicide attempts, Depression, blink and you'll miss it s/h, body horror, religious trauma

She Ra and the Princesses Of Power

Adora was raised in the Horde since she was a baby, being fed propaganda about how cruel the princesses were. After learning how the horde actually was, though, she defects. But there's one problem. Her best friend, Catra, stays behind. Adora finds a sword that can transform her into She Ra, and might be the key to figuring out who she really is, while Catra takes her place as force captain.

It's a story about abuse, at the end of the day. Adora and Catra were stuck in a golden child and scapegoat dynamic, despite how much they care about each other. This leads to them knowing everything about each other but not understanding it. There's a fundamental disconnect between them, because both of their traumas are completely different. They have complete misconceptions about each other. Even in their initial split, they both have completely different perceptions of what's going on and why the other is upset. It's not a story about magic princesses, it's about the cycle of abuse and what makes it so complicated. Does it have flaws? Yeah. But ultimately I really really enjoy it, and when it does something right it does something RIGHT. Get through season one, it starts kids show-y but it gets very good during later s1.

Content warnings: Abuse (obviously), body horror, gaslighting (and I mean actual gaslighting, not what the Internet thinks gaslighting is), suicide, depression, flashing lights and eyestrain during the finale

Steven Universe

Steven Universe is a sins of the father story. Steven is the son of the leader of the rebel group The Crystal Gems, who's name was Rose Quartz. He navigates the confusion of being half gem and half human, as well as trying to figure out the mess of the rebellion and what his mother left behind. He's constantly in her shadow, for better or for worse.

It's a story about grief. How it impacts relationships, how it taints history, how it impacts family. It has some definite flaws, but ultimately it's about very flawed people who have lost so many people in their life trying to cope with it. Trying to handle what they lost and trying to adjust to life without them. It's about how expectations fuck a kid up and about agency and just a show about complicated relationships in general, at the end of the day. Also, it has some FANTASTIC music.

Content warnings: Grief, Abuse, body horror, very creepy people I don't know how to tag, heavy allegories for homophobia

Nimona

Nimona is a story about a guy who gets framed for murder. His name is Ballister Boldheart, a commoner who hoped to become a knight. It seemed everyone was waiting to watch him fail, so it was no surprise when he was the immediate target. Heavily injured and away from the man he loves, he's left alone trying to figure out a way to prove his innocence- until a strange kid comes into his life. This kids name is Nimona, and while he is intent on proving his innocence, she gave up on being anything but a villain a long time ago.

It's about deconstructing the model minority myth, trans rage, propaganda, and with a healthy dose of "FUCK the police".

Content warnings: Heavy injury, on screen suicide attempt, flashing lights

feel free to add more shows! just remember to keep the summaries as spoiler free as you can and add content warnings!

#show recommendations #movie recommendation #the owl house #toh #owl house #steven universe #shera #she ra #spop #nimona #queer #gay #lesbian #bisexual #trans #transgender #queer shows

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miniwheat77 · 7 months ago

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Alone with you. (141 x Reader.)

!smut, p in v sex, double penetration, gang bang, overstimulation, non con, proceed with caution, NO MINORS!

This was supposed to be my bday fic but I’ve had writers block, hope you enjoy!

"So this is the culprit hm?" Laswell lifts up the bottle of pheromone perfume.

"Looks like it." You mumble. "Wonder how good it actually works. Might spice up my sex life." You joke. Soap laughs. "What sex life?" he snorts. Seeing Laswell roll her eyes at the both of you. "Exactly my point. Asshole." You mumble under your breath.

When Soap leaves the room, Laswell smirks at you. "I'm sure in super small doses it couldn't hurt." She winks. You catch the tiny vial in your hand that she had just thrown at you. You smile at her. "And that's why you're my favorite, Laswell." You laugh, following her out of her office. Tucking the vial into your back pocket. "Alright. I'm heading out. Graves said he has some leads in North America so I'll be over there for a couple weeks. Try not to kill each other while I'm gone." She smiles. "No promises. As always, safe travels Laswell. Ring when you get to where you're going." You call to her. She nods her head, waving at you. You disappear down the corridor, going to your room.

———

Later that same night, you make your way into the mess hall, cup in hand. It's got water in it. You haven't had the chance to eat yet. You sit down for just a second and a gasp leaves your lips when you hear a small pop come from your back pocket. "Shit." You mumble. You hear the others coming and choose to stay put, only turning to look at your backside when they're distracted. You notice that there's no liquid anymore. Had it absorbed that quickly?

You quickly head back to your room, trying to clean all of the glass out of your pocket. You change into some other leggings that you have since it's almost time for bed anyway it's not like anyone will care.

You make your way back out into the mess hall and take your seat once more. Seeing that Soap has set up across from you at the table. It's silent for the most part, until Soap starts to shuffle awkwardly. He clears his throat a couple of times, finally looking up at you. Only now does he suddenly feel very attracted to you. He was before of course but now, something is different. He clears his throat again and adjusts the way he's sitting. You glance around the room to see each of them stealing glances at you.

Is it the pheromone perfume doing this?

No… it couldn’t be. It was only a tiny vial.

You stand up to get rid of your tray and move to sit back down. “Y/N. Can I speak with you?” Your Captain grasps your attention. You nod your head, following him out to the hallways. “Did Laswell give you the pheromone perfume?” He crosses his arms. “Yeah, I was supposed to throw it away for her but I forgot about it and it broke open in my pocket.” He shakes his head. “Listen, the scent you’re giving off is way too much. Go lock yourself in your room and stay there until it’s worn off.” He finishes his sentence and then grits his teeth, like he’s holding something back. “Go on.” He breathes. You can’t help but notice the beads of sweat on his forehead. You nod your head. As you start walking down the corridor, you hear him.

“No, Johnny wait!” You turn back to see Soap trying to push passed him. Very clearly trying to get to you.

You hurry down the hallway and open the door to your room, closing the door behind you. “Jesus fuck.” You mumble to yourself. Is this stuff really this strong?

You take a deep breath, sitting at the edge of your bed.

For a couple hours, you hear nothing but silence. And it’s a bit deafening. It’s eerie like there’s something off. You lay down, trying to distract yourself but you end up falling asleep.

In your sleep, you feel someone moving next to you, dipping the edge of your bed down. You stir awake when you feel their hands on you. When you realize what’s going on, that someone is actually touching you, your eyes open completely. You jump away from them, seeing that it’s Soap. But he’s not there right now. His eyes are dark. “Johnny… what are you doing?” You breathe. “You smell so good lass. Can smell how fucking bad you want this…” he smirks. He moves off of your bed, circling around it to try to corner you. You make a split second decision and bolt for the door, sprinting down the hallway. You can hear his heavy footsteps chasing after you. You turn the corner, eyes widening and your feet skidding to a stop as you see your Captain and Gaz. They’re both standing there. Clearly blocking you from going this direction. “Nowhere to run, darling.” Gaz smirks. You breathe out.

This has to be some kind of sick joke.

Soap closes in behind you, they make slow steps toward you.

You take off through the mess hall. Seeing a window that opens and hurrying up to it, you pry it open and climb through it. Sliding out of their grasp just barely. You take off running, seeing the watch tower. Perfect.

You make your way up, slowly and quietly. You don’t know if they’re on watch since they’re not thinking right.

You move up inside, closing the door behind you. Breathing. You dig your phone out of your pocket, dialing Laswell immediately. “Y/N, I haven’t got to base just yet, I’m driving.” She mumbles. “I know- it’s not that.” You breathe, hands shaking. “The vial you gave me broke open in my pocket and my body absorbed all of it, now I’m in a freaking wild goose chase Laswell.” You pant. “What? It’s that bad?” She asks. “Yes! They’re like.. freaking zombies Laswell. They’re not even there.” You breathe. “You’ll just have to wait it out Y/N.” She mumbles. “Yeah.. Yeah I know.” You mumble. “Thanks Laswell.” You sigh.

You hear creaking, fear coursing through you. Just as you turn to look at the door, a hand snakes its way around your waist, tugging you into them, another hand clamping around your mouth. “Gotcha.” He whispers. His voice is deep and it comes out almost as a growl.

It’s Ghost.

He moves his other hand from your waist and grasps your phone, pressing the button to hang up. Lowering the phone down onto the countertop. “Didn’t lock the door sweetheart. Almost like you wanted this to happen hm?” He breathes, his warm breath right over your ear. “You know we’re not gonna hurt ya.” He brushes your hair out of your face. “Ghost, please-“ you whine. “You smell so good. Drives me crazy. I almost didn’t want to tell them you were up here.” He chuckles. Your eyes widen.

Just then, you can hear multiple footsteps coming up the metal staircase. Like everything is deafened around you and that’s all you can hear.

What are they going to do to you?

Ghost spins you around. You see the other three creeping into the room, Soap makes sure to lock the door behind himself. “Nowhere to run now, Dove. It’s just you and us now.” Gaz mumbles, stepping closer. You step back. But know it’s no use. You’re stuck, and whatever is going to happen, it’s happening now. “What are you going to do?” You swallow hard. Johnny chuckles. “Nothing you won’t like, darling. How about we get these clothes off of you, hm?”

“I- I don’t-“

“That wasn’t a question. It was an order.” Captain Price’s voice booms in your ears. His sternness always was intimidating. “Y-yes sir.” You breathe. You hope that as you reach for the hem of your shirt, they’ll start laughing. That this will be some kind of sick joke. But they don’t.

You tug your shirt over your head. Breathing out. You clench your eyes shut as they reach for their belts. Still dressed in their military uniforms. “Y/N. Look at me.” You tilt your head up, swallowing down the lump in your throat as you look at Johnny. “Nothing to be scared about. Just relax.” He chuckles. You nod your head. He reaches out, grasping hold of your upper arm and pulling you into him with ease. How easy it is for him to move you makes you realize just how powerful these men are. He forces you up against the small table in the watch tower. It’s old and you’re not sure if it’ll hold you.

You swallow hard, wincing as the table begins to dig into your pelvis. He makes you rest your hands on it. “Be a good girl.” He breathes. His voice sends chills down your spine. He reaches for your pants, tugging them down your legs. He holds them down with his foot, having you step out of them. “Good girl. Now listen.” He breathes. He raises his hands up, unclasping your bra and letting it fall over your shoulders and onto the floor. “Nobody will hear you, so you can be as loud as you want to. Alright? You’re going to like this, because you’re a naughty little thing. Promise.” He mumbles. He pushes you back down, forcing you over the table. A gasp leaves your lips as he pushes apart your legs.

He frees his cock from its confines and you can see the others standing off to the side. You clench your eyes shut once more, whining as he presses the fat tip of his cock at your entrance. You suck in a sharp breath as he pushes himself past your entrance, sliding in and bottoming out into you. You lurch forward with a hiss at the intrusion. “Oh- f-fuck!” You cry. Raising up slightly with a cry. He only forces you back down. “Shhh. It’s okay.” His attempt at soothing you is pathetic and half-assed. If you weren’t in this particular position, you might laugh at him.

But you don’t think you’ll ever be able to look at them the same ever again.

You rest your head on the table, breathing out. Take a deep breath, try not to lose control.

That’s hard to do, keeping yourself together around them when they’re as attractive as they are. And the way they’re touching you.

Just as soon as you’re full, he’s pulling out of you again. He lifts you up, shoving the flimsy table out of the way and kneeling on the ground with you. Ghost steps toward you and you look up at him, he’s still got his mask on. You can’t see his smile. “Look good from this position, darling.” He smirks. You swallow hard, he moves his jeans to the side and tugs his boxers down, revealing his length to you. He’s big. You swallow hard, looking down. “No need to be nervous now. Look at me.” He breathes. You tilt your head up again, feeling Johnny kneel behind you, moving his length up the expanse of your ass. You shudder as Simon steps forward. “Open your mouth.” He breathes. You’re trying to stay focused on Simon but the feeling of Johnny’s length pushing into you from behind has you wincing again. “Relax. Look up at me.” He lifts your chin forcefully. Pushing the tip of his cock past your lips. You take him down as far as you can, swallowing around his shaft. Hearing him gasp.

“Johnny touch her clit.” He breathes.

Johnny does it, listening to his LT.

He glides his hand over your hip and stomach. Calloused hands rough on your skin but his fingertips on your clit has your thighs ready to give out. He draws his hips back, thrusting back into your ass. Hearing you choke on Simon’s cock. You draw back, taking a deep breath. You rest your hands on his thighs, pulling him closer to you so that you can take him further down. “There.. see.” He breathes. “All you had to do was make her horny.” His laugh is deep and taunting. He tilts his head back, groaning out. You focus on the tip of his cock, knowing it’s got the most nerve endings. Being gentle but still sucking hard. It only takes a couple of minutes before his thighs are shaking.

“Fuck-“ he draws back away from you. “Wanna be in that pussy.” He breathes. “Gonna make me cum too fast.” He breathes.

He kneels down in front of you. Wiping your lips of saliva and clearing them. Johnny’s hard thrusts into you keep you wet, and you whine when he pulls his hand away from your clit. “It’s alright. Gonna get you nice and full lass.” Soap chuckles. You probably look fucking pathetic in front of them. Fucked out and desperate. You knew you needed to get laid but this…

This is too far. But it’s something you didn’t know you needed.

They raise you up, wrapping your legs around Simon’s waist. Johnny slides himself back inside of your ass, feeling you tense up. Simon glides his tip up between your folds, pushing past them. You whine out, starting to squirm. “S’alright.” He breathes. His voice is low. Only you can hear it. When they’re both bottoming out in you, your breath is gone. Lungs are empty and burning. You’re trying to catch your breath but it feels impossible. A sob gets caught in your throat and you clench your eyes shut as they start to fuck you. “Fuck- not gonna last-“ Johnny hisses. Ghost holds you still, both of them moving in unison as they thrust into you. You shake and cry, overstimulated and you haven’t even cum yet.

“Fuck!” Johnny slides out of you, pumping himself with his hand. He bucks his hips into you, resting his forehead on your back as he finishes. Simon doesn’t stop his thrusts, keeping up his bruising pace.

Johnny moves away from you, he’s been selfish thus far. It’s someone else’s turn.

Gaz takes his place. Desperate to feel you. He inches closer, spitting into his hand and gliding it over the tip of his cock. He slides into you again. Feeling you gasp out. Lurching foward into Simon. He laughs. “You’re doing good. Keeping up.” Ghost mumbles.

Gaz grips your hips and tries to hold you still as he and Simon fill you. You can feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm. Shivering as it inches closer and closer.

Chills start at your toes and work their way up your body.

“I- oh god-“ you whine.

You clench your eyes shut, letting it take over your body. You’re sure it’ll be the hardest you’ll ever cum. They don’t stop, riding out your orgasm as it washes over you. You know they’re not going to stop.

You relax, trying to pace yourself despite being overstimulated. You raise your hand up and rest it on Simon’s shoulder. Hearing Gaz chuckle behind you at your fucked out state. Simon’s breathing is getting a little heavier. He lowers his head, lips right by your ear. “So tight baby… getting me so close.” He grits his teeth. He starts to pant, cock throbbing and twitching inside of you. He groans out, sliding out of you. He grits his teeth and tries to contain himself as he cums.

He takes a second, panting. His head is buried into the crook of your neck as he comes down. He finally pulls away from you. Standing up and adjusting his pants.

Captain Price is quick to take his place. You’re ready to tap out but it’s clear that they’re not going to let you. Gaz grasps your chin, tilting your head back. “You’re doing good. Just a bit more.” He breathes, pressing his lips to yours. You can feel your captain’s hands on you, groping your breasts in his hands as he lines himself up with your entrance. “You still smell so good.” He growls. Gaz lets go of you and you finally get a good look at John. His eyes are dark, like the others. Their pupils are dilated, they look dark. Empty. Like there’s nothing there, only lust.

What the hell is this stuff and who made it?

You whine again as he slides into you. Tears filling your eyes. You clench your eyes shut and brace yourself for what they’re going to do to you. You rest your head on John’s chest as they start fucking into you mercilessly, John is desperate. He’s been waiting the longest. He’s eager and horny and the way he fucks you shows it. You’re sobbing into his chest in just minutes, overstimulated and overwhelmed. Your body shakes and you can feel the warmth pooling in your lower abdomen again. You can’t stay quiet. Moans spill from your lips uncontrollably and tears stream from your eyes. You’ve never been so overwhelmed in your life. “Do you feel good? Hm?”

“Yes!” You cry. “Tell me how good you feel.” He breathes. Forcing you to look up at him. “Tell me how good all of us have made you feel. And it better be good honey. Let everyone know how good they’ve fucked you today.” He forces your face up again by your jaw. “It feels so good- so so good- you’re fucking me so good.” A gasp leaves your lips as they thrust together at the exact same time. “Now what do you say hm? It was kind of us to fuck you.”

“Thank you!” You cry, head falling again. You chant it as they thrust into you. “That’s a good girl.” He chuckles.

They last another few minutes, but this time, neither of them pull out. Filling both of your holes up.

They ride out their highs before halting, cocks buried up inside of you still. You’re panting hard, clit throbbing. You don’t know how you’ve taken it or kept up with them to this point.

It’s Soap who lifts you up and carries you to your room. Your thighs shake uncontrollably and he helps you get cleaned up before putting you to bed. He makes sure you’re comfortable. And even when he leaves you alone, he’s still got that same dark look in his eyes.

Maybe you wouldn’t wake up alone.

1K notes · View notes

sugarmuseum · 28 days ago

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THE TRAITOR | N. JM

pairing: Na Jaemin x female!reader

genre: smut, horror, frat!au, halloween!au

summary: When your small town starts their annual -and intense– Halloween celebrations, you think there might be a case of mass hysteria as a witch hunt slowly rises when you caught the attention of the Founders, the campus elite members and their leader, Na Jaemin.

content warnings: minor age difference (Jaemin is 2 years older), explicit sex scenes, explicit lenguaje, mentions and descriptions of death and murder, drug and alcohol use, mentions of past torture (not to any principal characters), physical violence, lots of blood. MDNI!

smut warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, oral sex (m and f receiving), overstimulation, slapping, spanking, squirting, minor breeding kink, dirty talk and pet names so i don’t have to use y/n.

word count: 18.k+

Disclaimer: english is not my first language so if there’s any mistakes or misspelling i’m sorry! Happy halloween!

‘’I fucking love Halloween,’’ Lee Donghyuck almost screamed, winning a push from an annoyed Renjun behind him. He caught the attention of a group of sorority girls passing by, dressed as sexy witches, which looked at him giggling. ‘’I love this town.’’

‘’Here we go again,’’ Renjun sighed, knowing what’s about to come out of Hyuck's mouth— doing this same speech every year. But he decided to play along and entertained him while the rest of the group arrived. ’’What do you like?’’

‘’Everything! The spooky vibes, the parties! The girls in sexy costumes,’’ he listed with a smile, bating his eyelashes close to Renjun face, ’’especially the hot girls looking for a Founder to fuck.’’

Renjun groaned and pushed Hyuck again, rolling his eyes. ‘’Every time one of you call yourself that something dies inside me, I swear,'' he pinched the bridge of his nose, then went back to scanning the crowd for Jeno, Mark or even Ten, whoever might come to his rescue.

Hyuck looked at him porting a smug expressión. ‘’What about it? We are the Founders. And it’s not like you don’t enjoy the benefits, my lovely and cute Junnie.’’

‘’I didn't say that. I just implied you're annoying.’’

Before Renjun gives him the third push of the day, a figure joins them resting his hands on his shoulders from behind as a greeting. Jeno's head peeks between them and he frowns at Donghyuck.

''Are you already bothering Renjun this early,'' he asks and then turns at Renjun maintaining the same expression, ''and you shouldn't you be more patient as a future lawyer?''

''Jeno, are you on vice president duties already?'' A new voice jokes and everyone turns to Chenle, who appears making his way through the crowd. Used to the dynamics of his fraternity brothers, he is not surprised by the scene he encounters.

‘’Seems like it, yeah,’’ the handsome man says, ‘’since Jaemin is MIA.’’

Renjun frowns, pulling out his cell phone and checks the group chat, though there are no new messages. He hasn't seen Jaemin since this morning, actually. ''Where is everyone else? The opening of the haunted house is starting.''

''Mark is helping hang the last of the decorations in the backyard with Jisung,'' Jeno reminds them as the music drops a little and the sorority entrance lights up where Rosé, the president, takes the microphone. She's not alone, as her vice president is with her besides a bunch of other girls, dressed as witches. ‘’They’re putting in the last pumpkins and then they'll join us. I hope they hurry tho, I don't want to wait in line to get in.’’

''And where’s our leader?'' Chenle asks as he adjusts his black glasses, checking his cell phone too, reading several messages from girls asking to join them in the haunted house and ignoring it.

''Most likely stalking you-know-who,'' Renjun mutters with a sigh. He's not really listening to Rosé welcoming and talking about traditions, culture and witches, but his suspicions are confirmed when his gaze falls on you. ''Ah, yes, we definitely won't see him until later, much later.''

Donghyuck, Chenle and Jeno follow Renjun's line of sight, three more pairs of eyes landing on you, recognizing and examining you from afar in your cute witch outfit, hat and all. Even though the frat boys know you're banned by Jaemin's order, that doesn't mean they can't look at you, right? And tonight you look especially good, with your little black dress and those cute, innocent eyes looking especially bored too, making Renjun chuckle. You're so bad at pretending you want to be there.

''She looks so beautiful,'' Donghyuck laments, staring at your body as he has done so many other times and studying the way your striped stockings reach up to your thighs as an idea crosses his mind. ''Do you think Jaemin would share?''

Jeno snorts with a laugh. ''Fuck no,'' is quick to respond taking his eyes off of you for a second to raise an eyebrow in the direction of the major in Finance as he shakes his head. ''Definitely not with you, no.''

''You pulled the shortest stick out of all of us, Hyuck,'' Renjun comments with a satisfied smile watching his friend's face fall from his refusals and decides to give him a final stab. ‘’Maybe Jeno,'' he adds thoughtfully.

The named one neither denies nor affirms, maintaining a secret smile that makes Hyuck sulk more and mutter things like I'm gonna put my stick in your—

''Don't be like that just because Jaemin has a girlfriend and you don’t,'' Renjun scolds him, having fun at the expense of Lee Donghyuck's tantrum.

Chenle shrugs and while he had to admit you were gorgeous, there were more girls like that on campus at the disposal of any of them at all the parties they threw, eager to get not only an NCT brother but maybe a Founder. ''What's so special about her anyway?'' He asks aloud his thoughts.

He doesn't like you, actually. It’s not that you did something to him on purpose, he just doesn't click with you the few times you two shared a space, like going to the kitchen at a party and bumping into Chenle spilling his drink or the times he let you in at the frat and you stepped in his foot accidentally.

''You should ask Jaemin, he's been obsessed with her for months,'' Jeno replies, thinking about how many times his best friend had chased you around campus, parties and even sneaking into some of your classes since the first time he saw you. He knew his friend could be quite intense, so it didn't surprise him that he acted that way when something - or someone - got into his head.

‘’That’s what good pussy does to you,’’ Donghyuck offers simply, as if it were obvious.

''We don't really know her, she's an outsider,'' Chenle continues, looking at you through his dark glasses with a sense of distrust that has him frowning. ''I don't get it.''

Renjun and Jeno shared a look, knowing that Chenle was one of the firmest believers about the family traditions they shared and that if things were to get more serious - as it seemed - with a girl outside their circle he was going to be the talk of not only the campus, but the entire town. And their families.

Neither of them said more on the subject, but they had to admit that Chenle was right. The girl who had stolen Jaemin was a newcomer with no legacy or social presence in the town or university. And that would be a problem, sooner or later.

You sighed as you reluctantly put on your black pointy hat, joining Yuna and Jia, who were wearing witch outfits similar to yours. A small crowd was gathering in your sorority area for the opening of the annual Witch Haunted Hunt, their activities to participate in the town's Halloween schedule. This year they were going to have a haunted house and sisters like you had been decorating the days before.

''I can't believe I'm doing this,'' you mumbled so the president, Rosé, wouldn't hear, even if she was busy talking into the microphone. That girl had sensors all over her body to identify pledges and sisters complaining. ''I feel like a idiot.''

''Hey! You said you weren't going to complain anymore,'' Jia reminded you in a hushed whisper, giving you a little nudge to shut you up while she had her attention on Rosé. ''Sshhhhh!’’

You moved your body a little to avoid her elbow as you continued to speak between clenched teeth. ''That was before they made us witches. It's like being an Elf on Christmas, but instead some kid is going to see me on the street and egg me on, I just know it,'' you sighed, pressing your lips together.

''What?'' Yuna asked in confusion, side-eyeing you from your right side. ''What are you talking about?’’

''Well... we're in a town that hates witches and the kids have grown up with that propaganda. It's only a matter of time before some of them put together an army and decide to do justice and put it on TikTok,’’ you explained.

''Being a witch is quite an honor in our sorority! We are the protagonists,'' Jia muttered trying to keep her face composed and not laugh. ''It's an ancient tradition and should be respected. Shush, babe!''

‘’Shush the non-believer!’’ Yuna whispered into your ear, laughing and pinching your ass making you jump and yelp, turning and staring at her accusingly, frowning when another sister shushed the both of you.

The town where you lived was nationally known as a major site of recorded witch trials and killings over three hundred years ago. Generations and generations had spent growing up with that scar on the town's history and over time they began to use the town's folklore as a tourist attraction.

You didn't know how intense it was until you moved in as a teenager a few years ago with your mother, it was like the town turned upside down when October came around. The short time you had spent there you had heard everything from legends to scare children and rumors about ghosts lurking from the witches that burned in the woods, to beliefs that the town had been cursed by said witches and you had been surprised to learn that some of those stories not only scared adults but that they believed it.

And you also witnessed how the descendants of the founders still controlled the place.

Owners of buildings, stores, the hospital, even politicians, the descendants of the wealthy and exclusive original founder’s families were considered royalty with a legacy that stretched through all the branches of their family tree and were still as powerful as... Well, ever. And they were the ones who for decades had been powering the Season of the Witch during the month of Halloween, filling the town with tourists, attractions and a lot of town spirit and effort to entertain their visitors. Although it had become a more commercial thing that attracted many tourists, that did not mean that the people who lived there were not in fact superstitious, because they were. Which never ceased to amaze you to this day.

You could have sworn there was satisfaction in some eyes when you once watched as they reenacted the trials with volunteer actors in the central square and the witch was sent to the stake while the high school choir and band musicalized the bizarre scene.

''You people and your obsession with witches, I swear,'' you groaned in exhaustion. Having been chosen as part of the sorority group of witches, your schedule was full of activities, like posing at the haunted house opening, selling tickets for that, making sure no one trashed the decorations around the building and keeping an eye on the festivities in general while looking cute. You were like a car model but make it witchy. And kinda objectifying.

''Maybe that's the reason why Jaemin won't stop staring at you,'' Yuna said quietly, trying to dissimulate the conversation the three of you were sharing. When you heard her you turned your attention back to the audience and it only took you a few seconds to scan it until you found his piercing stare fixed on you. When their eyes met he smiled at you slowly, showing all of his perfectly sharp teeth. ''He seems obsessed with a certain little witch.''

Na Jaemin was the golden boy of the town and one of the descendants of the founders. He came from generations and generations of politicians and his father was currently the beloved town mayor, occupying the office until his son was ready to take his place in a few years and carry on the tradition as his ancestors had done before. No one challenged the Na's monopoly of power at elections simply because no one else was running for it. Nobody dared. They just let them win over and over again.

That was the way things were and the way it worked there. Jaemin happily participated in all the town's activities with a smile and a face that made everyone sigh with love. There was no one who could resist his charm and personality. Were there any homeless dogs? He would organize a responsible adoption day. An elderly neighbor needed help with his yard? No problem, he would mow the lawn himself without breaking a sweat and campaign for other neighbors to join in taking care of the senior's yard.

You heard thousands of rumors about him from girl's gossip too. He had a fame since highschool of a brutal fuckboy with a big cock who will destroy pretty girls and that image just grew more intensely when Jaemin matured more and became a man. Did you need tutoring? He would offer, of course, and then politely say goodbye after fucking you against a corner of the library.

Well, in fact all that side of his reputation was over since the day both had officially met.

Actually, you knew who Jaemin was because he was graduating when you entered high school for your last two years and he had a fan club that lived and talked about him in class composed of your classmates, depressed that they could no longer see him every day in the hallways, the cafeteria or at play field making the team win. He was a celebrity at school along with his friends. You had seen him a couple of times in the hallways and noticed his heavy gaze on you on many occasions, but you didn't expect any movement from Jaemin. At all. After all, you were an inexperienced kid compared to the popular, pretty cheerleaders girls he fucked- you didn't think he had that type on interest in you. Maybe he was looking at you because you were the new girl and that's it. You had paid more attention to other things, like studying and making friends - Yuna and Jia occupying that last position.

Jaemin had a whole group of friends who were known to be from founding families who settled the colony that grew into a town and hence the origin of the nickname people gave them, the Founders. They were the heirs, part of such an intimate circle that it was impossible to enter or leave. Obviously everyone wanted to interact with them, be their friend, cheer them on at their games, girls threw themselves at their feet- anyone wanted a piece of them. Invitations to parties, free booze and drugs- you name it, it was given to them. Shit, even the candy store downtown would give them a free bag every now and then.

They moved their reign from high school to college smoothly and effortlessly, and Jaemin had been handed the throne on a silver platter - the presidency of the NCT frat - thanks to Taeyong, who was graduating with honors and an incredible future thanks to the scholarship Jaemin's dad had given him.

To the neighbors he was a kind and charismatic guy, but you saw his other face, more intense but real, relaxed. Especially in those moments when he managed to capture you when you least expected it (or in fact you did, and hope for it), just like now- taken to an empty classroom where no one would interrupt. When both of you were together it was as if you could see him and not Na Jaemin, the leader of the Founders.

And the rumors turned out to be true. He fucked like a demon.

Jaemin smiles at you with hungry, dark eyes after closing the door behind him. ‘’Aren't you the prettiest thing?‘’ He said after sliding each of his hands on your waist and sitting you on the desk. He lifts some fingers and gently tugs the front of your hat until it falls in your field of vision. "Baby, I think you just bewitched me."

‘’Stooop,’’ you whined with a laugh, tapping on his hands away but not really, ’’you’re gonna mess up my hat and then Rosé it’s gonna scold me.’’

‘’Awwww, baby,’’ he cooed at you in a fake sweet tone, even pouting and ignoring how you try to get away from him. Instead, he cages you against the desk with his body with one firm push, both hands grabbing your thighs and squeezing them. ’’Don’t tell me you’re afraid of little dumb Rosé, don’t you? I’ll protect you,’’ he mocked you, parting your legs and positioning himself between.

Your relationship with Jaemin went from strangers who looked at each other in highschool curiously to insane rabbits fucking everytime they could. Jaemin didn't waste any time when you stepped foot on campus for your first year, giving you a invitiatión to your first frat party. The crazy, popular ones everyone knew were filled with descontrol and fun at the Neo Chi Theta frat. You were doubtful at first, not really trusting him and his friends- but your friends saw it as a golden ticket for you and them. But actually it took a whole more year for Jaemin chasing after you until you were his.

‘’Jaemin, I don’t think even you stand a chance against my stressed sorority president,’’ you pointed and the brown haired man laughs huskily in your neck as he starts kissing it and biting- your body reacting at the feel of his mouth on you. ’’Not to mention Jia and Yuna will join too, they think this costume is sacred or something.’’

And oh boy, how stressed Rosé was. The disastrous day started early, first with the weather- it rained a little bit out of nowhere and your sorority sisters runned around the whole place protecting the Halloween decorations. Then, the electricity went out- some light fuses or something exploiting in the basement. So Rosé became more hysterical, because that meant that there was no sound system: so no sound effects, no music and no microphone to use.

Luckingly for the entire sorority and Rosé state of mind, things became better: the power came back, the fusibles were replaced and everything went smoothly from there. But it was kinda strange, not happening ever before according to the maintenance staff who couldn't find an explanation of how it happened: the fusibles were brand new, just changed a few weeks ago.

‘’It is, it’s part of a large tradition,’’ he said while his big hands now grabs your tits so possesively with a grunt, his distractions are working-, ’’we take things seriously here, you still don’t understand that? I’ll show you.’’

You yelped for the second time of the day when you felt a tug in your dress followed by a sharp sound of fabric being ripped. You stared in incredulity at Jaemin while he rips your tiny dress from the neckline, liberating your breasts with a pleased, masculine groan. His long hands cupped your tits, holding them while his tongue slowly circles your nipples, hardening them before sucking them firmly, until they pop from his lips. In no time he’s having you moaning and tugging his hair while you rub against his cock, feeling it already hard in his pants. Jaemin makes a mess of saliva, slurping it and spitting again, giving you small bites and succions; marking the sensitive skin of your tits, knowing exactly how to make your pussy throb with desire.

‘’Fuck, baby, so fucking pretty,’’ he mumbled against your breasts, biting one of your nipples harder than before, making you complain with a high-pitched whine. His hand moved down your body to in between your legs, feeling your wet pussy through your panties totally messed up by your arousal. ‘’Acting all responsible and shit, being a brat but letting me do anything to you like the slut you are.’’

Your breath hitched as your heart races, unable to control your body's responses that are trained by Jaemin to obey him. More moistness soaked your thighs and you squirmed into his body, rubbing yourself with not a care in the world as you get a friction to your needy clit.

‘’But don't worry, I'm going to fuck that attitude out of you,'' Jaemin promised with a devilish smirk that makes you feel a hot sensation that thrills your belly with anticipation. Jaemin pulled away and crouched down, shoving your damp panties aside so he can spread your folds apart with his digits. He swiped them up and down, watching them cover your wet, glistening, pussy. ''This pretty, little pussy is all mine,'' he leaned into your dripping cunt, dying to taste you. His tongue traveled in its slow way, scooping up your slick in long, soft but firm licks that make you moan and claw at the edges of the desk. “So fucking messy and desperate.”

Jaemin keeps both hands spreading apart and gripping your thighs close to your chest as he devours you like a famished man, tasting, licking and sucking your pussy in the most filthy way. He moaned into your center and shoved his face deep to your pussy, showering himself with your juices. His tongue circled over your clit and wrapped his lips around it, sucking it and causing your hips to grind against it, fucking his face.

‘’Jaemin, please, more,” you pleaded with a moan as he sucks harder, feeling your pussy clenching around nothing and getting more and more wet, your whole body burning with pleasure. You watched as Jaemin pulls away for a second, strands of saliva connect to your core, his lips, chin and nose looking glossy with your slick. He looked so fucking hot it almost hurts and as you stare at him you feel a wave of possessiveness making you even more horny... and wild. This man is mine, you thought in your cloudy mind.

His tongue shoved into your entrance, fucking you with it and then making you moan gripping his hair as his nose bumped at your clit with every push of his face, causing you to see stars and keep moaning his name.

''Jaemin- fuck, don't stop,'' you cried out with another moan, feeling the pleasure flood your body, aching to close your legs around Jaemin's head but he maintains an iron grip on your thighs, leaving marks in the form of fingerprints. ''It feels so good, please,” you spluttered.

“Please what? Use your big girl words,” he said, his voice rough as he licked his lips, coated in your wetness and savoring you again. Jaemin started lapping at your cunt so he can catch a new rush of arousal with his tongue. You remained silent, just whimpering and mumbling nonsense. “Are you so fucked up already that you can't even speak, dumb slut?

He spanked one of your thighs and returned to eating your pussy, swirling his tongue around your clit in circular motions and then sucking on it until you scream his name. His words are true, you were drifting as your mind goes into black, slipping into that headspace where you don't think, you only feel. Jaemin is set to make you scream, thrusting two long fingers inside you up to his knuckles, stroking your velvet walls as he slowly pushes them in first, in and out. They reach so deep, Jaemin finding that spot that makes you squeal and lift your hips, trying to fuck his fingers.

He curved them in and keep stroking that sweet spot, your body tingling with pleasure, facing the ceiling in blankness, a rush of heat building up in your core.

''Fuck, right there,'' you gasped, blushing a little as you notice the wet, loud sounds your pussy make as Jaemin drives his fingers in hard and quick, ''Nana, fuck- I'm gonna cum-’'

''Cum,'' Jaemin ordered, mouth pressed against your clit, still sucking and licking around it, ''cum on my fingers like a good slut for me.'' He continued to relentlessly fingering you, inhaling and exhaling your scent as he feels you tighten around his fingers. ''Pussy so tight and greedy, wanted to be stuffed and used.’’

You screamed his name and hold on to the desk with all your strength as you feel the orgasm overtake you, leaving you so breathless and so fucking satisfied as Jaemin holds you down, preventing your hips from rising again. Your legs trembled and you whimpered as you realized Jaemin hasn't stopped his fingers.

‘'One more,’' he said as he slided his fingers into your dilated hole, curling them in and making you moan. Jaemin smiled against your lips, kissing you again and drowning out your sounds of protests.

''Jaemin-'', you started to beg again, but he shushed you, by kissing you and raising on top of you, covering you with his body, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“Still a brat, huh?” His free hand covers your under belly and applies pressure, in a way that feels so fucking good. “Be a good girl and cum for me again, pretty slut.”

You felt the intense pleasure returning to flood you as his fingers do not stop. You moaned as you felt another climax rising, the overstimulation too much, squeezing around Jaemin's fingers as your hand finds one of his wrists and you hold on to it. Your eyes welled up with tears as you hided your face in the crook of Jaemin's neck, sensing your body so overwhelmed by so much delight and a little pain... that you snap.

‘’Fuck yeah, that's it,” Jaemin praised you as you cummed all over, squirting with a choked moan that sends you limp on the desk, ‘‘cumming like a good slut, making a fucking mess,’’ he smiled proudly, noticing how your legs are shaking and your breath is hitching.

Jaemin let you catch your breath as he sucked his fingers, not getting enough of your taste. His mouth covered your lips, this time kissing you slowly, adoringly, more tenderly, making your insides curl but this time with a different sensation. His hands caresses your legs, your sides and even your tits gently, bringing a smile to your face. Typical Jaemin, tearing you apart and then treating you like precious crystal.

He steped back, using what's left of the fabric of your shredded dress to wipe the rest of your cum from your thighs and pussy, your heart fluttering from his affection. Jaemin helped you into a sitting position, kissing you gently again and stroked your cheeks, observing the state of you that he has made. Your makeup was a mess, long smudges of your mascara, lips swollen from his kisses and marks covering your neck and chest, looking all fucked. So fucking cute, he thinks. Jaemins chuckled, when he noticed your long forgotten witch's hat lying on the floor.

‘’Are you okay, baby?” He asked before removing his hoodie and pulling on your naked figure, which suits you large and covering just above your thighs. You nodded with a hum, exhausted and happy after two orgasms. ''You've done so well for me, my pretty little witch.’’

''Please don't remind me,'' you sighed, thinking of the heart attack Rosé would have if she could see you like this. You cuddled Jaemin, searching for his neck with your cheek and rubbing yourself on it, your hand slowly cupped his erection in his pants, but then a big, sudden sound startled you both and makes you stop in your tracks... fireworks?

A few moments later the classroom door opened and you both saw Renjun storming in, his usually relaxed face looked a little frenetic. “We need to leave right fucking now, Jaemin,” he said, preferring to ignore the smell of sex: he's was too used to you fucking all over the place, and he had more important matters anyway.

‘'What's the matter? Renjun, what's wrong?'' The frat president asksed, motioning his body in a way that shielded you from his friend's view with alarm taking over his voice.

''Everything! The power at the frat house went out and the Jack-o'-lanters that Mark and Jisung put up exploded all over the place, all the way to the ceiling! They had to call the fucking fire department,'' Renjuns explained looking at his blowing up phone with the text messages coming. ''Ten and Johnny are downtown, apparently the city's Halloween sign blew up too or I don't know, but it caught on fire too and so did the decorations-''

''Fuck. Are they okay?’’ He asked and Renjun noded, looking unusually shaken. ‘’Okay, calm down,'' Jaemin tried to soothe his friend, then looked at you a bit confused and worried, ''what was that sound we heard earlier then? It's too far away from NCT here.''

Jaemin took out his muted phone, seeing so many messages from his brothers and his father too, calling him- fucking furious his precious and expensive sign is wrecked. Mark was on his texts, telling him that the fire department has extinguished the small fire on the roof, not major damage but Jisung was a bit freaked out.

“I don't know what the fuck happened, maybe something electrical,” Renjuns sighed, and continued to explain, “but something blew up in the sorority's haunted house and the power is out too.”

You hearded heavy, rushed footsteps down the hallway and a new figure entered the classroom to your utter fucking embarrassment, but at least it's not university staff, but Zhong Chenle with a mad look on his face and black glasses pushed up onto his head.

“Jaemin, someone set the witch dummy on fire!” He yelled.

One of the oldest traditions of the Neo Chi Theta frat was their kick-off Halloween celebrations, in which they would go into the woods on the first weekend of October, light a fire and burn a giant dummy, several feet tall and tie it to a giant stake dressed as a witch. It was a tradition that dated back a couple of generations, to the great-great-grandparents of the current Founders. Started by Jaemin's great-great-grandfather, in fact.

The witch's dummy would burn all night while the DJ played music and people partied.

But apparently this year's dummy had been set on fire before its time while still locked in storage and no one knew how that happened, however Chenle and Donghyuck suspected that perhaps it was the prank of someone who had a death wish. The confection of the stupid witch dummy had been in the works for weeks, so Doyoung had to order a new one and the party had obviously been delayed at least one more week, so he paid more to get it ready sooner. And even though it had been a number of days, the NCT residents were still furious.

''I don't understand what's going on, but things are going all wrong,'' Yuna sighed, examining you, who were sitting on the bed sewing up a part of her skirt that had been holed after catching on a nail sticking out of the door.

''Don't be silly, I'm about to finish and it's barely noticeable,'' you murmured, running the needle quickly through the shiny fabric, ''we'll make it to the party on time, you'll see,'' you comment in concentration.

''I don't think she's talking about her skirt, babe,'' Jia joined the conversation, finishing applying her makeup in front of the mirror and looking at you both through it. ''Rosé is furious, the whole opening was ruined. Good thing the guys were able to work out the dummy witch thing for tonight.''

''And the NCT house! Can you imagine if it had burned down? That's so scary,'' Yuna continued, getting up from her spot and scooting over to sit next to you. She rests her head on your shoulder, watching you continue sewing with a pout. ''Thank goodness no one got hurt.''

''Mmmm,'' you murmured not really listening and startle when your friend pokes your side playfully with a frown, wanting your attention. ''Ow! What was that for?'', you asked and examine your finger, which you pricked with the sewing needle.

''I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! Let me see,'' she gasped your name regretfully, taking your hand and inspecting your finger carefully, feeling guilty. ''There's no bleeding,'' Yuna murmured, a little surprised after a few seconds of checking it.

‘’It didn't go that deep, don’t worry’’ you assured her, taking your finger into your mouth and sucking the tip anyways while giving back Yuna her skirt. ‘’I already finished, anyways.’’

She smiles at you and kisses your cheek, quickly putting her skirt back on. ‘’You're the best, thank you! Now... Do you think Chenle will like this outfit?” she asked, posing and pointing her ass at you.

You spanked her, making her squeal and you both let out a giggle, catching Jia's attention. ''I don't think Chenle likes anything but basketball,'' you blurted, leaning back on the bed, ''you should go for someone else. Maybe someone who isn't the personification of a sour candy.''

''Ohhhh, so you admit there's some sweetness in him,'' Yuna joked, winking at you and you faked a gag, rolling your eyes. ‘’Stop doing that! He's cute,'' she insisted, and even Jia looked at her in amusement. ‘’He is! Okay, you should be nice to him anyway, you know? He's Jaemin's friend and-’’

''One of the Founders, yeah, yeah, I know,'' you sighed, ''and he's important and you'll marry him someday,'' you continued, reciting the words Yuna convinced you two to memorize in support of manifesting for her. She nodded and Jia snorted, thinking her delusional friend is cute.

The party and dummy burn was tonight, so you were getting ready with your two friends in Jia's room. It was also the first time you were going, not joining things like this since you moved to the town, like any witches and trials bullshit. But this time Jaemin invited you and you couldn't say no to him- besides, you haven't seen him daily this week, like you've gotten accustomed to since you first met him. He was busy with frat stuff like the dummy and the exploding decorations in the house- Renjun thinking that somehow someone must have set off a firecracker as a stupid Halloween prank, and also with family matters like the reopening of a new Witch Season sign in town. That didn't mean you two didn't talk, actually facetiming and calling each other but it obviously wasn't the same. And you missed him a lot.

''Speaking of founders, I think I'll fuck Jeno tonight,'' Jia said thoughtfully as the three of you reached the woods, cars everywhere and groups of what you assumed were students yelling and cheering, some of them clearly already drunken.

''Okay,'' you started a little confused, guarding your steps even though there are pumpkin-shaped garlands of orange lights guiding the way, ''don't you do that every day? Like... you let him sleep in your room when NCT's roof caught on fire a few days ago.’’

''Yeah, but I haven't since then. I want to drive him crazy, you know? He still has not asked me out and we've been fucking for months,'' she sighed, but there is determination in his eyes when he looks at you. ''I want a relationship like yours, I want a Founder too, can you imagine? The three of us having a Founder. Everyone would envy us,'' Jia saids, and Yuna giggled and agreed.

You smiled and hope none of your friends can tell it's fake. Comments like that started to become habitual weeks ago and it makes you uncomfortable, especially when you sometimes feel your friends' jealous eyes on you and Jaemin when the two of you are together. When Jia and Yuna saw Jaemin's interest in you, they urged you towards him at every opportunity, helping him. At first you thought they were just being good friends, trying to help you pick up a hot guy. But deep down you knew they saw you as the key to a social circle: the Founders' circle. When things with Jaemin got more serious, each of them set their sights on a specific Founder, which turned out to be Jeno and Chenle.

Jeno and Chenle were of course interested, because Jia and Yuna were gorgeous, with nice bodies and amazing smiles, just two cute girls who could have whoever they wanted. But none of them acted like Jaemin had acted and instead they kept playing their own way, having girl after girl and partying and being the residents fuckboys of NCT. No settling down for now, but you know and your friends too know that at some point in the future they had to marry a good and worthy town girl. What better plan than to work towards that position now?

Your thoughts were broken when the three of you finally arrived and the first thing you spotted was the biggest fucking dummy ever seen. Almost like the old trees in the forest, a huge figure covered in a big dress and witch's hat, stuffed with dried leaves and straw so it could burn faster. It was not yet ignited, but you could see from afar the standing bodies of Doyoung and Jisung preparing it, pouring gasoline at its feet.

Yuna dragged you and Jia towards the movable bar where Donghyuck and Jeno are already drinking, screaming. “Let's get drunk!’’

You couldn't stop yourself to watch the dummy witch from time to time, thinking it looked kinda strange. This whole party felt like that, and you understand that it's a tradition but the meaning behind it is... problematic. The witches the town burned where innocent women persecuted for dumb reasons. And now people burned a giant dummy of one of them with a live DJ.

You losted your friends a while ago, Jia leaving with Jeno to God knows where and Yuna chasing Chenle who is more busy talking about the match they won last month with Jungwoo, another Neo Chi Theta brother. So you stayed quietly drinking for a while, checking your phone for a text from Jaemin. He had told you a little while ago that he was coming, but you hadn't seen him yet. Out of nowhere you felt a pair of hands come from behind and clutch your waist, causing you to jump. Jaemin chuckles behind you and draws you into his body, wrapping his arms around you and kissing your neck as he coos at you.

''What's got you so jumpy, mmh?''

''Nothing, you just scared me,'' you said as you turned around, bringing your arms to his neck and inspecting how he combed his hair, clearing his forehead. He looked so handsome to you, feeling the familiarity of his presence complete you. ''You look so handsome, Nana.''

He looked at you and grinned, that big tooth-filled grin that makes him look a little wild, but unbelievably cute. That's what his vibes were like.

''I've missed you so much, baby,'' he murmured, not wasting any more time, and kisses you. His hands traveled up and down your frame, ruffling your skirts with his hands. You felt the heat radiating from his body and you feel better than earlier, knowing he was with you, desiring nothing more than to climb him like a tree and devour him. ''Fuck, I'm going to have my time with you tonight, angel.''

''Hey you two lovebirds!'' Donghyuck's loud voice suddenly cuted in and he grabs Jaemin and pulls him away from you. ''We need our leader to start the fire, but don't worry, pretty girl,'' he says, smirking flirty at you, ‘’I’m gonna keep you compa- ow!’’

Donghyuck holded the spot where Jaemin punched him and stared at him, while Jaemin does the same to Hyuck until he throwed up his hands in surrender. You can't deny that you don't love seeing Jaemin like this, acting as the dominating leader and driving Hyuck away. Once you and Jaemin are back alone, he gived you another kiss and fiddled with a strand of your hair by wrapping it around his finger, tugging lightly to get your attention.

“Wait for me, okay? Don't you leave with nobody, I'm going to light the fucking dummy and come back quick,'' Jaemin saids using his ridiculous baby voice, causing you to giggle and roll your eyes giving him a soft shove.

''Yeah, go set that horrible thing on fire already,'' giving him another nudge as he pulled your strand of hair playfully, kissing you once again before leaving.

He smiled at you and turns away, moving through the crowd. Some people waving at him and several girls staring at him with interest. You'd felt jealous but you know Jaemin is yours and he's proved it, but you can't help thinking about them stopping their stares. You went to the bar again and Kun, the frats house bartender, poured you the special punch he prepared, a dark red drink with a fruity flavor and definitely a lot of vodka.

You were torn between ignore the dummy about to be burned or not, part of you wanted to see Jaemin in all his glory and power, and part of you wanted to not partake in this silly event. You saw part of the flickering garland of lights in the bar, drawing Kun's attention as well, but just at that moment your eyes are elsewhere as Yuna leaned on the bar with an annoyed expression.

“You were right. Chenle is a stupid ugly candy,'' she mumbled, and you followed her gaze fixed on the boy's form. He was still talking to Jungwoo, but now some pretty girls have joined in, and you recognized some of the cheerleading squad. Chenle grabbed one of them by the waist.

Yikes.

''I don't think I'd quite say that,'' you commented as you take a sip of your drink and then hand it to Yuna, who picks it up and chugs it all in one shot. You know your friend very well, so you already know how the storm that was brewing in her eyes would eventually end. Probably with lighting and rain. And some cheerleader being threatened. You weren't really sure Chenle could handle a storm like that, but you sure as hell didn't want to see that. Yikes again. “You know what? I think I have to go to the bathroom-''

''Wait, no! They're setting the dummy on fire! Look, there's Jaemin,'' she exclaimed, shifting her attitude and tugging you along with her. You see him, holding up a lit up torch and creepily everyone falls silent, almost as if they're holding their breath. ''He looks so good,'' she sighed dreamily. She doesn't seem to have noticed that she said it out loud, brushing herself off right away.

Even though the DJ stops the music, Yangyang is still with his headphones on and filming everything with his phone. All eyes turned to Jaemin, who was showing a serious face, escorted not far away by the other founding members. Doyoung, Mark, Johnny, Jeno, Renjun and even Chenle, who seems to have made it in time, all watch silently as their leader throwed down the torch and set the giant witch dummy on fire.

The dummy bursted into fire and the blaze consumes it so quickly that it rises up to the dummy's hat fast. The crowd erupted into a craziness as the music returns, creating an explosion of energy and cheering, everyone jumping up and down and singing the song that Yangyang remixes. You leaved without a word, feeling uneasy and a little pissed off at Yuna's words from earlier. You maked your way through the crowd to leave the center of the party. It was too much. You needed another drink, you think, drumming your fingers on the bar as Kun fixes you the same punch as before, but now in the dark after one of the garland lights burned out. Luckily they had a spare, which Jisung was setting up.

You saw Jia coming your way, looking a little drunk and her makeup not as perfect as when you saw her earlier. "Babe, I've been lookin' for you! We're having a private bonfire, are you coming?''

''This isn't the bonfire?'' You asked a little confused, signaling the burning dummy with your head.

''Yes, but the Founders are having a private one, Johnny brought good wine and Donghyuck has some blunts. We're gonna smoke and tell scary stories!''

''I don't know, Jaemin told me to wait for-'' you started but Jia doesn't listen to you, tangles his arm with yours and drags you, ''Jia!’’

''Relax babe, Jaemin is already there with the others,'' she assured you, and smiles at you.

You wrinkled your nose at your boyfriend when you reached him and see he's sitting on the ground near the small campfire, impatiently looking at you.

''See, your girlfriend is here,” Renjun said to him and Jaemin flashes his middle finger at him. The handsome leader hugs your legs once you're close to him and he pouted at you, his hands now caressing the back of your knees. ''I told you Jia was bringing her.''

''I'm sorry, angel. They pulled me in and wouldn't let me go, saying I'd get lost.''

''Aren't you like the leader or something?'' you said sarcastically, sitting on his lap. You hear a chorus of ''ohhhhhhhh!'' and laughter. Jaemin just smirks, removes his jacket and covers you with it, kissing your neck and wrapping his arms around you. You knew you're going to paid for that challenge later, and you hoped so. You loved it when he punished your brattiness.

You heard your name being called and you realize it’s Donghyuck, who’s lighting up a blunt and taking a hit of it. ‘’So, I know the perfect story for tonight. Tell me, you don’t know much about our town history, right?’’

You shaked your head and shrugged, ‘’I don’t, not really. Well, just the dumb witch stuff and all that.’’

“So you don't know the full story? Like, everything that happened,'' Marks asked as he helped Johnny pull some bottles of wine out of a box, ''the entire timeline and the crazy stuff.’’

''What's there to know, really? People went crazy with mass hysteria and religious paranoia. They took innocent women and burned them at the stake,'' you remarked feeling a little shy afterwards as you notice the silence that forms but speaking your mind- but you can't help being honest. Jaemin rubbed your thigh, reassuring you, and you relaxed against his chest.

''Yeah, but,'' Renjuns joined in, taking the joint Hyuck offers him, ''they weren't innocent, they actually cursed the town. Everyone knows it started when Sarah, the middle witch, had her poor, evil heart broken.''

''What do you mean?'' You frownew.

''Hyung, tell the story from the very beginning!'' Chenle told him excitedly, lighting a joint on his own and passing it to Jisung after blowing out the smoke.

‘’Yeah, hyung,’’ Jisung said, getting comfortable on the ground and sipping from Mark’s wine bottle. ‘’You always tell it so good.’’

Donghyuck smiled from the praises and waited until the rest find their places around the bonfire; Jia with Jeno, Johnny and Doyoung sitting next to each other and sharing a bottle of wine and Mark and Renjun on some old, falling tree serving as a chair.

‘’It all started when the mother of the seven girls died,‘’ Hyucks beggined to narrate. ‘’They lived in peace with other people, they were nice and all. The seven sisters were known in town for their beauty, but the middle one, Sarah, was on another level. Soft skin and shiny hair, eyes full of innocence,’’ he paused, eyes moving toward Jaemin. ‘’Of course it caught the attention of the widowed Mayor.’’

You sensed Jaemin tensing behind you, fingers tightening painfully against your belly and you caressed his hand, wanting to relax like he did before to you. It was a little weird knowing that a direct descent of that Mayor was cuddling you in his arms.

‘’His wife died one cold winter, so young just like him, so every girl in town wanted to take her place. Whorever, they didn’t stand a chance,’’ Hyuck said gloomily, ‘’he was bewitched with Sarah. That’s when everything started going to shit.’’

Everyone listened to him thoughtfully, you noticed, as the sounds of the party happening not far along fill the forest but are ignored by the Founders. They kept smoking and drinking, except for you, actually interested in listening to the whole story. Maybe it was the way Donghyuck was using his smooth, velvety voice, but it was alluring you nonetheless.

‘’First, the fresh milk went sour, but that could happen, right? It was the old times after all. But then, some women started getting sick and weak, worrying the entire town. The unmarried ones started losing hair and having nightmares, so they turned to their scared mothers and told them what was causing it: the seven sisters. They saw them looking wickedly at them one afternoon after service, smiling like angels while cursing the poor girls like demons.’’

‘’That’s so ridiculous’’, you laughed, interrupting him and shaking your head. ‘’They were clearly having an intense fólie a deux, and sure most of them even faking it.’’

Donghyuck and the rest ignored your comment except for Jaemin, who you felt smile against your nape. Chenle, on the other hand, hushed you, signaling the teller to continue. He did, taking a sip of the wine Doyoung passed him.

''So the men assembled one night and went to investigate. They went to the seven sisters' house, but it was deserted. Their things were all inside, so the men knew they must be somewhere else. But they weren't working on the small farm next to the house either, so they searched the woods. And that's where they found the witches,” he stopped again for a second, building suspense, ”they were dancing naked, singing in an unknown language and having a small bonfire in honor of the Devil. The smoke was red and they were laughing maniacally, some of them were even floating in the air, terrifying the group of men.''

''Then the town council held a meeting. They were sick of the witches and their spells, who were trying to bring ruin to the good people,'' Renjun interrupted knowing the story by heart and Hyucks whined at him, irritated by his intromision.

''The council?'' You asked and Jia muttered your name looking at you like you're dumb.

''The original founders, our past families,'' Doyoung explained as he opened another bottle of wine, ''commanded by their Reverend, of course.''

Mark remained silent, and you understan his lack of comment because there's gossip you heard after you arrived in town and Jia explained to you who was who. Apparently, well no, actually, Mark was a direct descendant of the first reverend, but he came from a bastard son. Obviously his ancestor had sacred vows and couldn't marry, but it didn't surprise you that he had sex. All men were hypocrites, especially in those days. However, he and his family were considered a Founder anyways.

''So they settled that it was time for a trial. The mayor at the time advocated for the sister's innocence and asked for fairness, so the reverend reassured him that they would do so, they knew how to determine if the girls were witches or not. But little did they know that the girls planned to escape after seeing how the town treated them, even beating one of them one afternoon here in the middle of the town's central square. Imagine how disappointed the mayor was with Sarah, his precious lover was a damned liar trying to run away,” the narrator shaked his head, ‘’but thankfully they were caught red-handed and the Mayor himself put Sarah in the dungeon,‘’ Hyuck proudly continued.

You saw something moving in the corner of your eye catching your attention and turning your head to see better, but there’s nothing more than darkness in the forest. Someone was sneaking up with a girl, maybe? You swear you heard crunching leaves or maybe a branch. You curled more into Jaemins body who mistaked the movement for cold or fright, giving you a worried look as he hugged you more tightly.

''So the trials began. They did tests for the sisters, information coming from high ranks of the Church that guided the reverend in the art of finding a witch,'' Hyuck stared at you and held his eyes on you while he told the next part. ''Witches don't bleed, so they poked their fingers with sharp needles to prove it but their veins were dry. Witches have the mark of the devil on them, so they looked for that and found moles on the sister's skin, pitching them with hot iron sticks afterwards.''

You can’t help the sadness extending through your heart, listening to Donghyuck telling it in horror. It was a horrible story that was real, not some shit made up- these people existed. You feel sick to your stomach, a pinch of anxiety rising inexplicably.

‘’Witches have light bodies, to levitate and fly, so they took some sisters and judged that, pushing them off the highest cliff into the cold water to see if they could float or fly away in the wind. They sank and drowned, so the people who gathered to watch prayed for their souls. But that didn’t end there, some of them were still being interrogated. Witches can’t cry, so they were surprised when the remaining sisters cried while tortured. But… it could all been a trick, right?’’

The whole group is silenced by Donghyuck's mesmerizing voice as he talks and you just look at the fire while listening, imagining everything that went down with the seven sisters. You couldn't even try, tho. That kind of suffering is too much to handle. How scared they must be, seeing their sisters die one after another? Sustain all that pain?

Donghyuck took a pause to take a sip of the wine, continuing. ‘’After all, the whole town was cursed by them. Strange things started to happen in addition to the old testimonies. Blood started to appear in the medic’s house walls, and the shared office of the judge and the notary caught fire. And weird things kept happening, like hundreds of death flies appearing in the church and the banker having the windows in his house explode out of nowhere one day, pieces of glass cutting his face. The commissioner saw with his own eyes how his cows started giving blood instead of milk. So they all had enough. The only sister remaining was Sarah, so it must be her doing.’’

You felt Jaemin's body tensing, reacting to your own body stiffening. You couldn't help yourself, scared for the story, seeing how far these people were with their believings. He pushed his hand underneath your sweater, stroking your belly softly, covering with his whole palm making you shudder.

‘’So they decided it was time for her to pay and put an end to all this,’’ Donghyuck stopped and took his time in watching everyone, raising his eyebrows and smiling, the fire of the campfire making his eyes shine, ‘’she was declared guilty and condemned with death by fire, just like in hell. That same night they set up a huge bonfire and tied Sarah to the stake. The whole town went, some spitting on her and some scared of the witch too, but curious.’’

Donghyuck winked at you. ‘’And guess who lit the fire, my pretty, unbelieving cutie,’’ he asked, making Jaemin groan in warning, and you keep silent. ‘’You guessed right. It was the Mayor.’’

A breeze of wind pickups then, making you shiver and winding up the campfire in front of you. The top of the trees moves, the sound of its branches moving even despite the distant music of the party. But nobody seems to care, as is normal in a forest.

"To our founders!" Johnny cheered, raising his bottle of wine in a toast.

"You guys are way too comfortable feeling proud of having burned people," you huffed, settling into Jaemin's lap, feeling cold, "sorry if I find this fascination you have for baseless murders bizarre."

‘’Didn't you hear the story? They had proof, the whole town was fucking enchanted,’’ Chenle raised an eyebrow, shaking his head and taking another puff from his blunt.

Marks speaked then, looking kinda embarrassed. ‘’It's not a fascination, it's just—our ancestors did what they believed was best.’’

"Oh God, you don't really think those women were witches, do you?" You started to laugh, but you immediately stopped when you saw that no one is laughing with you. "You guys can't be serious."

"Well, but think about it a bit. Strange things were happening back then, it's written in the records, there are testimonies. Those women were accused for good reason, surely," Jia said, pushing herself closer to Jeno.

‘’Yeah? Like what? To have their dress better ironed? Or maybe they didn't make the butter salty enough for the founders' taste," you joked ironically, winning yourself some eye rolls and scoffs.

‘’Were you listening at all? They have motives, the witches were invoking the Devil and bringing dark shit to the town,’’ Johnny throwed you a unimpressed look.

‘’You can believe whatever, but witches were real then,’’ Doyoung said, swirling his bottle of wine and shrugging. ‘’And probably are now, just hiding better.’’

Renjun stood up, stretching and taking another hit before heading towards the party, not without saying: "And nowadays, strange things are happening too, just like back then. "

Doyoung seemed thoughtful, considering it as he lowers his bottle. "Yes, you're right... too many strange accidents."

‘’You think a witch did it?’’ Jisung asked, looking very scared by that idea.

"Having electrical problems and an idiot running around blowing up pumpkins is not a rare accident," Jaemin denied, looking bored. He starts kissing your shoulder, more focused on touching you and warming you up than on the chills he feels running down your legs. He gave you a little nudge on your side indicating that you should get up, and you obed instantly, happy to leave that place once and for all.

‘’But you can’t deny that witches exist, right, Jaem?’’ Johnny said, teasing him.

‘’If you guys have bloody walls and sick cows, you should call the university staff,’’ you teased the Founders, taking Jaemin's hand, who also gets up and stretches with a grunt when his back cracks. You start to walk away with him, letting yourself be guided by your boyfriend towards the party again. ‘’Or fund the witch police, I’m sure there’s a budget for that!’’

That same night much later, you were in Jaemin's bed, wearing one of his t-shirts while you both watch an old horror movie on TV together before going to sleep, it's almost dawn. Curled up against his side, you look at him from beneath your lashes, studying the curves of his face in silence without paying attention to the movie until Jaemin feels your gaze on him and looks at you, smiling as he notices your expression and affectionately caressing your waist.

"Can I help you, angel?"

"Yes," you admited immediately, moving on top of him to settle yourself on his lap. You cradled his face and kiss him, Jaemin's hands immediately grabbing your thighs and moving up to squeeze your butt with a sleepy grunt. "I want to ask you something," you murmured against his lips, licking yours.

"What is it?" Jaemin asked, tilting his head and playing with the edge of his shirt on you, lifting it slowly but you stop him before he distracts you with another session of sex.

You didn't know how to start, so you went straight to the point. "Nana... the story that Hyuck told, I was wondering," you paused, straighten up above him, "why do you think Sarah didn't take revenge on the Mayor like she did with the council members? Sorry, I know he's your ancestor and all, but I'm curious.’’

Jaemin studied you for a few seconds and then he smiled, slipping his hands under the shirt to caress your skin, sliding his palms over your ribs and the edge of your breasts. "What do you think? They loved each other. I stole his diary a few years ago from my father's library and read it myself. They loved each other so much. The Mayor wanted to marry her even before he was with his first wife, but Sarah came from a poor family and his family insisted. That happened before the village was established, I think.’’

‘’What happened to him? Obviously he got remarried, otherwise you wouldn't be here," you joked, brushing his hair back.

‘’He married one of the girls who had accused Sarah, but because he needed an heir. It wasn't a happy marriage, according to his diary and... he always regretted betraying her," Jaemin responded, looking thoughtful for a moment. He bringed his hands to your back and pulled you back towards him, kissing you softly on your lips. ‘’He continued writing about her and…,’’ the stoped, eyeing your lips.

"And...?" you asked with curiosity, urging Jaemin to continue after he stops. He closes his eyes for a few seconds and then opens them, his face illuminated by the faint light of dawn coming through the window, giving Jaemin a soft appearance.

"And he always had nightmares, until he died. About her. He saw her hurt, crying for him, and burning at the stake... he regretted everything he made her go through, he wished he had helped her escape or hide," Jaemin explained, sitting with you still holding you in his arms for a better reach to your mouth. He kissed you gently, hugging you by the waist. Then he added: ‘’He didn't believe she was bad, it was impossible. Sarah was the kindest woman he had ever known, according to him. He wrote about her until the day of his death, she is the last entry in the diary.’’

"But everyone sees him as a hero or something like that. He was the one who lit the fire," you murmured, unable to avoid thinking about how terrible it must have been for both of them... but especially for Sarah.

Jaemin sighed and pulled at the shirt you're wearing until he takes it off, and this time you let him. "But people don't know the diary exists, baby. Everyone believes the story they've heard, the version Hyuck told last night. The official version of the town.’’

"Why haven't you told them, Jaemin? You know the truth, that Sarah wasn't an evil witch," you said, frowning, letting Jaemin change positions, lying you down on the bed and positioning himself on top of you, parting your legs with a tender but firm touch.

"And who said I won't tell it soon?"

The leader of the Founders smiled at you, and for a moment, you can do nothing but just look at him, feeling your heart soften and explode at the same time, feeling so in love that you forget how to breathe. You felt the electricity inside you like every time you're with Jaemin and sparks fly, vibrating with anticipation when his touch becomes intimate and sensual. Your body arched against his as you both kissed deeply, your breath quickening with each passing second, unable to control some moans that escape you when you feel him hard against your stomach. His slow kisses traveled to your neck, kissing and sucking as well, causing your body to fill with shivers.

"Jaemin, wait-," you stopped him, having one last question before continuing, holding his face so he looks at you. ‘’The last entry in the diary... What did he write?’’

Your favorite smile from Jaemin appeared on his lips, full of teeth and tempting lips, but filled with a pure sweetness he has reserved for you, sporting that expression of bright and mischievous eyes that drived you crazy. He comed near your mouth again and kissed you slowly, full of love.

"That he wished they could be together in their next life."

The days went on, and so did the little accidents, as the townspeople and tourists tried to enjoy the various activities of Season of the Witch. The highschool choir lost their voices and couldn't participate in the reenactment of the burning of the witch Sarah in the town center, and in the middle of the play, the judge's table broke, causing the poor actor to fall and making the audience laugh. The haunted house of your sorority had so many problems that they weren't selling many tickets, so Rosé simply decided to cancel it, giving up after the damn fuses burned out for the tenth time in the little time that had passed in the month.

Chenle was determined to catch the one who had blown up his pumpkins at home, convinced that it was the same person who had blown them up at the frat and who also had a new prank, breaking the witch figures that the neighbors hung in their yards. The basketball team captain was sure that the culprit was some university student who had dared to take their pranks further and make an enemy by puncturing all the balls in the team's storage until they were deflated. Chenle was so furious that he was going to break the culprit's teeth when he caught him, as he had sworn to Renjun when the team couldn't have a practice game that day.

Renjun's room had flooded, ruining his university books and papers, so he had to spend the days leading up to Halloween redoing them to study for his exams the following week. He was convinced that one of his fraternity brothers, like Hendery or Yangyang, was playing pranks on him, because his new notes kept disappearing until it stopped being fucking funny.

Mark and Doyoung were becoming irritable because they were having constant nightmares and not sleeping well. Doyoung tried taking some pills to rest, but they were worse—trapping him in horrible dreams without being able to wake up and throwing them out the window the next day. Mark was grumpy and a bit paranoid, insisting that his cross necklace, originally inherited from the reverend, had disappeared and that he heard noises when he was alone. But Johnny was sure it was because Mark had the messiest room and his system was full of Redbull and he was sleeping little. Mark had reached his limit when he found a couple of dead flies on his desk and freaked out. He refused to sleep in his room, now being Chenle's temporary roommate.

Poor Johnny went through a few days of mourning when the shelves of his wine cellar gave way and broke without warning, shattering all the hundreds of precious, expensive wine bottles that he and his father had collected together. The worst part is that no one had noticed for a few days, so the wine was left there until the smell of rot filled the room and the floor had to be replaced.

Donghyuck's car tires had been slashed, the fuel tank filled with water, and as if that weren't enough, they had scratched the entire exterior, leaving the crowbar perfectly wedged against the driver's side window after finishing the job. He had tried to look at the security cameras like Chenle, but just like his, they didn't work. The image looked blurry until it went black as if there was some interference, so he had to accept that his car was ruined without catching the culprit for the moment.

Jeno realized that his protein shakes tasted like crap and didn't understand why, maybe because he was trying a new brand and flavor. It wasn't until he realized that the milk in his fridge was sour and spoiled, which was confusing. The milk hadn't expired, but when she smelled it through the package, the rotten smell made him gag. He bought a new pack at another store—just to be sure—and when he tried his shake at the gym, he spat it out in front of everyone, feeling that disgusting rotten taste again.

A few days before Halloween and the NCT party, the six Founders barged into Jaemin's room unannounced and surrounded him. The leader raised an eyebrow and lowered his phone, pausing his game, looking at them all without understanding anything and annoyed by the interruption.

‘’What?’’

"We need to talk," Doyoung started, crossing his arms. "We have a problem."

Jaemin sitted down and put his phone away, giving his brothers his full attention. ‘’What’s it? The TXT frat is fucking with us again? I thought I was clear when I punched the president at the spring party.’’

Chenle went straight to the point, sitting in a chair in his leader's room, face unreadable as he’s wearing his classic black sunglasses hiding his eyes. ‘’We have a witch in our hands.’’

Since you had woken up on Halloween day, you felt like everyone had reached their peak weirdness. The days before, when you saw Jaemin's friends around campus, they wouldn't even look at you; in fact, you thought they were avoiding you. Jia was acting similarly, making excuses about having a lot of homework and exams, which you understood. Your relationship with Yuna had been in a strange place since the night of the witch burning, and things had worsened when your ex friend started to take an increasing interest in Jaemin. Apparently, Chenle was a thing of the past and your friend wanted another Founder, with her eyes on the leader. Despite everything, it was strange to get ready alone in your room when you were used to doing it with your friends.

Everyone on campus was going to the annual NCT costume party that night, known for being one -if not the most- wild of the year, epic and out of control. The Founders paid the university to look the other way and not interrupt, letting them do whatever they wanted. Of course, the deal worked successfully every year.

You had chosen a somewhat cliché fallen angel outfit. You were wearing small black wings and a lace top of the same color to match your cute body-hugging skirt and high boots, definitely a sinful angel, as Jaemin had said when you sent him a photo before going out. You didn't really feel like putting too much effort into your costume, although you did want to look good. Really bloody and terrifying costumes weren't your thing anyway, in fact, nothing of that sort at all.

You made your way into the NCT house, a bit surprised by the party's budget. The broken decorations had been replaced with new ones, and the entire front yard had tombs, moving figures of ghosts and vampires, obviously a witch; there was even a smoke machine that added a terrifying touch. It looked like it was straight out of a fucking horror movie, and people had followed the dress code to the max, the costumes you saw had high production value and quality. Jaemin hadn't told you he was going in disguise, but you had a slight suspicion when he sent you some tweets of Ghostface and asked if you liked the mask.

You entered the house with deafening music and colored lights, filled with people dancing, others playing games and drinking, and some even kissing in the corners. It was a typical frat party, but the night felt different... maybe because it was Halloween. Supposedly it was a night of witches and demons, right? The air felt tense, as if something were about to happen but you didn't quite know what it was.

You were looking for Jaemin when someone suddenly crosses your path and says your name. Yangyang takes off his Art the Clown rubber mask to greet you. "What are you wearing?" he asked, a bit offended, observing your outfit and frowning. "It's supposed to be Halloween, not the Victoria's Secret fashion show. Hey, not that I'm complaining, anyway! Are you sure you want to date Jaemin and not me?" He speaked quickly, looking at you mischievously without letting you get a word in.

"Yes, Yangyang, I'm sure," you responded immediately, without paying attention to his comments. "Have you seen Jaemin?"

‘’Nope! I haven't seen any Founders, actually," he frowned as if he was realizing it at that moment and shrugged, lowering his mask. ‘’Anyway, don't try the punch! I put way too much rum in that shit when Kun wasn't looking," he warned, giving you a kiss on the cheek and quickly fleeing while laughing like an evil and silly gremlin.

You continued your way through the party and decided to skip some places, heading directly to the stairs to go to Jaemin's floor. You were walking down the hallway and don't notice a door opening behind you as you pass, a black figure in a hood appearing. He followed you a few steps, acting quickly when he realizes you felt him behind you. The stranger grabbed you and pushed you against the wall, making you scream in surprise, calming down only a little when you realize it's Ghostface the one holding you. His hand covered your neck and squeezed it slightly, feeling your pulse race with fear.

"No, Mr. Ghostface, don't kill me! I want to appear in the sequel!" you laughed, breaking free from his grip with a shove and running towards his room before he can catch you again. You opened the door feeling the adrenaline fill you and you are about to close it behind you when Jaemin put his foot in and pushes it open. You slowly backed up to the bed while Jaemin locks the door, taking off his mask and tossing it aside.

''Do you think it's okay to keep escaping from me? Angel, angel... You never learn your lesson, do you?” Jaemin asked, moving towards you slowly, speaking in a tone of mock sympathy. You felt excitement wash over you, your thighs rubbing together as you stared at him and he noticed, clicking his tongue in annoyance. “Kneel,” he ordered, resting a hand on your head to press you down. “You didn't think I was going to forget the punishment I owe you, did you?”.

“N-no,” you replied, your knees hitting the floor. Jaemin's hand gently caressed your cheek until he slided his fingers up to your mouth, rubbing them against your lips. ‘’Nana-’’

He slapped your cheek with his other hand, not too hard but firm enough to make you gasp and shut up. ''I thought so. Always so chatty, so defiant. But don't worry, angel, I know the best way to shut you up. Open your mouth, pretty slut.’’

You licked your lips and then part them, looking at Jaemin with pitiful eyes. He slipped his fingers into your mouth and you sucked on them immediately, swirling your tongue over them and cupping your cheeks to suck them eagerly, breathing through your nose as he takes them deep into your throat until you choke. He did it again and again until saliva begins to drip from the corners of your lips, feeling it dripping down your cleavage. You inhaled air through your mouth as he wiped away the wetness on your lips, making you more of a sloppy mess. He grabbed your hair and hold it in his fist as he shooted you a stern look as your hand groped the bulge in his pants covered by the black robe of the costume.

''So fucking needy, can't you wait for my cock, mm? You better not close your mouth, understand?” he said, releasing you to unbutton his pants. You obed him and keep your mouth open, tongue hanging out and feeling the saliva dripping down as you wait for him. He looked at you with smug satisfaction as he pulled his cock out of his boxers and rubbed it up against your pretty face, the thick, long cock rubbing your cheek and nose, even brushing against your tongue as Jaemin stroked himself in front of you.

You moaned when Jaemin let out a rough growl as he pressed his balls against your tongue and you flicked your tongue along them, feeling so powerful as you pleasure him. Jaemin grabbed your head as before and drived his cock into your mouth, thrusting lazily as your lips wrap around it and sucked on it, your tongue circling his thickness. You sucked him at his pace, slow, deep lunges that made you moan around him, feeling him hard in your mouth and giving you the occasional gag when he stayed too long at the back of your throat.

He only pulled out when you blink and a few tears escape, smiling down at you from his height and letting you breathe for a few seconds before plunging back into the back of your mouth, pushing his cock until your nose bumps against his pelvis.

He placed both hands on your head and holded you down, fucking your face more rapidly, making you gag around his cock and reaching a hand between your legs, stroking your swollen, throbbing clit. ''Fuck, so fucking good, sucking cock like the whore you are,” he grunted, slamming it down your throat over and over as you gagged and tried to relax your jaw, taking his huge cock with your slacked mouth.

You breathed shakily as you let Jaemin continue to fuck your mouth, moving your fingers around faster on your clit and even sliding one finger into your aching pussy, moaning as you moved them in the same pace as Jaemin was using your throat and even slidded another digit in.

''A dirty angel, preparing her pussy to be fucked without my permission,” Jaemin scolded you, pushing his cock's tip against the inside of your cheek and smacking it, making both of you moan from the sensation. ''Get on all fours and lift that ass up like a good slut for me.''

Jaemin pulled his cock out of your mouth and you couldn't help but cough a little and swallow, feeling your throat dry. You stood up trembling and sniffling through your nose from the tears, hurrying to obey Jaemin. You slowly leaned over the bed, giving him a view from under your skirt as you position yourself, revealing that you were not wearing any underwear. Jaemin's breath catches when he realizes you're not wearing anything under your skirt, seeing your pussy glistening with moisture, swollen lips that you part with your fingers, moaning his name to provoke him.

"Jaemin, please, I need your cock filling me," you said, turning your head to look at him, resting your face on his pillow. You spreaded your legs to show him more of your dripping pussy, biting your lower lip and begging with your eyes. "I want you to fuck me full of your cum," you moaned, giving your clit little slaps, moving your hips to rub your fingers firmly against it.

You saw Jaemin's eyes darkening and you smile pleased internally, knowing you have him right where you want him. You loved the way he dominated and fucked you, but you also liked to play with him and provoke him; pulling his strings until you got what you wanted. The way he positioned himself behind you and kneaded your ass made you moan in need, a possessive feeling filling you up as you know he is yours, feeling so overwhelmed that you can't help but shudder when you feel the tip of his cock pushing into your entrance, driving himself into your pussy so deep that his balls hit your ass.

‘’Nana, you’re so big,’’ you cried in pleasure at the feeling of stretching and a bit of pain sting, your walls getting used to Jaemin's size as they throbbed around his cock, scratching the sheets with your hands. You clinged to them when Jaemin started fucking you hard and deep, both of you moaning like two animals in heat while his hands grip your waist tightly.

"Taking my cock so well, this pretty pussy is made just for me, right?" He gived your ass a smack, causing more of your moans, and Jaemin growled as he fucks you hard while rolling up your skirt, gripping the garment as he moved in and out of you quickly. "You’re never going to leave my side, always being filled up with my cock and cum," he breathed heavily, groaning hoarsely as he feels your pussy tighten at the sound, feeling out of control. ‘’You’re going to let me breed you like the good girl you are-’’

Your eyes filled with surprise when he said that, and your body reacted, your pussy getting wetter and liking the idea, a sensation of pleasure forming in your stomach that has you whimpering with need while Jaemin railed you hard and fast. ‘’Yes, Nana! I’ll let you—fill me up, please," you begbed, your mouth slightly open, drooling on his bed as he used you however he wanted, giving pleasure and excitement, whining with each thrust of his big cock inside you.

"Fuck, begging like the pretty little whore that you are- I'm gonna fill you up so much, angel," he promised while thrusting into you, feeling drops of sweat fill his nape. Jaemin slapped your ass again and grabbed the flesh of your cheeks, kneading them possessively and spreading them apart to see the small hole of your ass.

He lets a thread of saliva fall slowly onto him, surprising you with the sensation and making you whimper, looking at him with imploring eyes as Jaemin begins to slide his index finger over it in a caress, spreading his saliva on it. "I’m gonna fuck this tight hole next, fill it with cum too."

You moaned from the overwhelming sensations and nodded repeatedly, gasping and tightening around Jaemin's cock, feeling your climax approaching as he inserted the tip of his finger into your ass, making you gasp in surprise at the unexpected but welcome touch.

"Come on my cock my pretty slut, milk me," he ordered, and you could only moan, feeling a tremor in your legs and your core fill with heat and moisture, soaking Jaemin's cock with your slick. "Beg for my fucking cum."

‘’Jaemin, please! I want all your cum, breed me," you said breathlessly, moaning non-stop even as you cummed, a wave of pleasure hitting you and leaving you dazed as you enjoy it. You stretched your hand back, caressing Jaemin's stomach and looking at him again, smiling provocatively. "Fill me with your cum, I want it to drip from me for days, please-"

‘’Take it, it's all yours, angel, fucking take it," he moaned, finishing deep inside your pussy, making you whimper from the warm feeling of his semen filling you up. Jaemin clinged to you as he finishes and tried to catch his breath, staring intently as his cock buried in your pussy, coating your womb with his cum. He gave you a gentle thrust and you moaned from the sensitivity, a masculine satisfaction filling him as he continued moving, some remnants of his cum coming out of your entrance and being pushed back in with the tip of his cock. ‘’Shit, baby. This pussy is driving me crazy," he murmured as he continues playing with his semen, floating his cock between the folds of your pussy and then gathering the white liquid to push it back inside you again. ''Such a pretty hole, dripping with my cum.''

You made a small sound and let your body fall forward, closing your eyes with a happy sigh and a bit of tiredness. You moved you hand behind you, slipping it between your legs and gathering the remnants of semen in your pussy, spreading it slowly between your folds too while looking at Jaemin with lustful eyes and softly moaning. You swore Jaemin's pupils dilate and he lunged at you, kissing you hungrily while his fingers intertwine with yours, both slowly caressing your poor, used pussy until you sighed contentedly and looked at him mischievously afterward.

"Put the mask on, I want to ride Ghostface now."

You didn't know how your legs were able to, but you found a strength to leave the bed and go down to the kitchen while the party continued and Jaemin followed after you, both hungry and thirsty after fucking two times non-stop. Your angel wings were long gone, and thankfully Jaemin didn’t tear any of your clothes this time, so you were presentable. It was way past midnight and the Halloween party was peaking, not noticing anyone you knew, not even your friends when you passed the living room scanning the people dancing. Jaemin was leading you by holding your hand, put you let it go when someone pushes with force against your body, making you move back.

‘’What's up, pumpkin?’’ Johnny smiled at you, you noticed first thing he was not wearing a costume. ‘’Are you enjoying the party?’’

‘’We do, man,’’ Jaemin answered for you, putting his arm to your shoulders. ‘’Are you going to the woods?’’

‘’Yeah, are you two coming? We’re having another bonfire, this time it's beer, tho. I haven’t had the time to refill my wine cellar,’’ the tall man said, winking at you as he murmured your name. ‘’You’re coming too, right? You know our leader won’t come if you aren’t there.’’

‘’Of course she’s coming, right baby?’’ Jaemin smiled at you, kissing your temple. You looked at him strangely because that wasn't your usual routine. You two were the cuddling type, so after having sex both will laid in bed for hours, just making up and chilling. Going to another stupid bonfire wasn't part of that ritual, that was weird. ‘’It will be fun, you’ll see, angel.’’

You entered the same entrance in the forest where a few days ago burned the witch dummy, but this time there wasn't any garland of light illuminating the path. The wood looked dark and creepy, the full moon rising on the sky and you admired it for a moment. Johnny and Jaemin chatted about sports and you don’t really heard them, missing the bed you were in before.

As you three came closer to the forest’s clearing, you noticed there’s no bonfire, but light up torches in the Founder’s hands. You crossed your arms as you walked towards them, feeling the tension thickening as you came closer. You sided eye Jaemin, feeling kinda uneasy, none of the Founders- and your friends who were there too not talking or laughing or drinking, they just… stayed there, illuminated by the fire in the torches.

But as you were about to say something to Jaemin, his hands pushed you to the ground hard, making you gasp in pain and confusion. His hand grabbed your hair and yanked your hair, forcing your eyes to see the Founders coming close to you. ‘’Jaemin, what the fuck! Let go!’’

‘’You’re forbidden to speak, witch,’’ Donghyuck sayid, kicking the ground so dirt lands on your body. ‘’This is a trial by the council. Bring the witnesses, Mark.’’

Mark did as told, making a hand gesture to Jia and Yuna to come closer. They do, Jia looking shaken up and Yuna more composed, eyes shining at you with an emotion you can’t put your finger on. What the fuck was going on?!

You intended to speak again, but as you about to you felt a jab of pain to your face, Johnny giving you a strong slap to your cheek that already leaves a mark behind.

‘’Shut up witch, you can’t speak,’’ he grunted and then looks at the girls. ‘’Tell what you told Chenle before.’’

‘’I saw her pinching her finger with a needle and didn't bleed,’’ Yuna is fast to accuse, staring at you in what appears to be fear, but you didn't buy it. ‘’And she- she didn't like Chenle, she said that she wishes he could go to hell, too.’’

‘’What!? What the fuck is going on, I never said-’’ A new wave off pain washed over your face, this time being for the hand of the named before. Chenle growled at you with so much hate- you actually feared him. You tried to catch Jaemin’s eyes, begging silently, but he didn't even looked at you, stare still on his friend.

‘’This is your witch trial, fucking demon. You really thought you could fuck with us? You think you scares us?’’ Chenle said, smiling at you in a mocking way, shaking his head. ‘’You don’t have any fucking idea what you’re got yourself into to.’’

‘’What are you talking about?! I’m not a fucking witch, have you all lost your minds?!’’ You yelled, terror filling your voice.

‘’She’s always strolling around trying to seduce men,’’ Jia said, and sended a quick look towards Jeno. ‘’J-jeno told me you always give him flirty eyes, even right after you come to town. Aren’t you ashamed? Being that young and taunting him with your short skirts?’’ She asked, voice filling with anger and jealousy, making you snort incredulously.

‘’Is this a fucking joke? What are you even on- I don’t even speak to Jeno,’’ you defended yourself confused by that accusation, watching your friend like they were crazy and you frown your eyebrows. ‘’Short- what? Jia, we had the same uniform,’’ you reminded her desperately, gripping Jaemin’s fingers in your head and trying to let go of your hair with a cry. ‘’Our skirts were the same length! We were sixteen! Are you even listening what you’re saying?’’

‘’So you don’t deny you tried to seduce him, right? I am a witness myself, knowing damn well you’re a little minx, showing your legs and tits in your tight outfits,’’ Donghyuck said, his eyes scanning your Halloween costume and you cursed under your breath.

‘’She always goes to the forest to study,’’ Yuna accused you before you could defend yourself again, ‘’but now I know she wasn't doing that. The night of the bonfire I saw her and Jaemin! She was naked and dancing in front of him, s-she was speaking in tongues,’’ her voice cracks, hugging herself and seeming like she's about to cry at any minute. ‘’She was bewitching him! Witch!’’

You stared at everybody completely in shock, they’re all lost their minds?! You felt a new pair of hands as Johnny grabbed you easily away from Jaemin and started dragging you across the ground to somewhere while you screamed and kicked until you were in front of what appeared to be the point where they burned the dummy witch last time. With a new stake.

‘’You were behind all the shit going down, the fire and the explosions,’’ this time Renjun accused you, coming next to you, giving you a disgusted look. ‘’You knew what happened to the original Founders and you did it to us too,’’ another slap landed on you, shocked that a quiet, cold Renjun could act like that. ‘’You made fun of us, thinking we won’t realize, don’t you? You give us nightmares and tried to fuck with your minds.’’

‘’Jaemin told us he found Mark’s Reverend cross in your room,’’ Doyoung seethes and you shaked your head, making him more furious. ‘’Stop lying, fucking witch!’’

‘’I don't! I didn't steal anything, I swear!’’ you cried confused and scared, trying to see Jaemin behind you. ‘’Nana, what’s all this?! Why did you said that?! It's a lie!’’

‘’Our leader would't lie or betray us, no matter how good your pussy is. He hates fucking, evil witches just like us,’’ Donghyuck defended his friend, voice proud. ‘’And we will clean our town of them, just like the founders did.’’

‘’This was his idea,’’ Johnny said, smiling at Jaemin. ‘’It wasn't difficult, right? You follow him around matter what. Did you had fun at the party, doll? I hope you enjoyed, it was your last time.’’

You stayed silent and freezed as you realize what’s happening. The accusations, the torches with fire, the stake- your eyes get bigger and your body trembled, realising you’re completely alone. No one knows you were in the woods, just Jaemin, the Founders and your friends. And none of them were gonna to help you, you thought starting to cry more desesperately.

‘’You are guilty of the crimes of witchcraft and the council has decided tonight you’ll burn for it.’’ Jaemin's voice filled your rigning ears, making you sob harder.

‘’Please, please! I’m not a fucking witch! You’re all insane!'’ You screamed in panic, your voice shaking while trying to convince someone. Your eyes found Yuna and Jia. ‘’Jia, please, help me. They’re gonna kill me, please make them stop,’’ you begged them, crying desperately.

Next to her was Yuna, porting the same sad face Jia wears, but none of them moved your way. Jia cried silently, staying still as she watched you beg. You shaked your head, realizing they chose their side and it was the Founders.

‘’Yuna, please! You said you will never let me alone, remember? W-when we met on my first day in h-highschool, you said you’d take care of me,’’ you reminded her, your voice tainted with not just fear, but sadness and a boiling rage filling your chest.

‘’Shut up!,’’ Mark groaned, pushing you to the ground with a kick to your back. You landed fist face and felt seconds after the blood coming from your nose and mouth, slip lip. ’’Dont speak to them, witch.’’

You saw Jaemin standing a little behind and you cry in anger, immobilized to the ground while Marks tided your wrists tightly and you sobbed, thinking about your night Jaemin back at the NCT frat. How you two kissed and fucked, until you two were just one body.

‘’How could you do this to me, Jaemin? Please, help me, please-’’ you begged once again, voice cracking with fear and closing your eyes when another sob tembled in your chest. ‘’Please, I’m not a witch!’’

Your sobs and desperate cries for help echoed through the forest without receiving a response, your cheeks soaked with tears that run your mascara. You lowered your head to avoid seeing Chenle starting pouring gasoline on the bonfire, hiding your eyes behind your hair like a curtain. A few moments passed and your crying morphed into small laughs that interruped your sobs, until you were laughing hysterically, throwing your head back and looking at the full moon that illuminated the night.

A breeze stared to sweep through the forest, growing stronger with each passing second, making the treetops and the flames of the torches shake violently to the rhythm of your crying. Mark, who were behind you, begins to stepped back and hold the cross around his neck, looking at the others who also tense up with your laughter, glancing at each other with distrust.

The scared and tearful girl was someone completely different, watching them with a maniacal smile as you slowly straighten up, sitting on your heels, and letting out a chuckle at the surprise on their faces.

You looked completely insane, with your bloody face and the fear erased from you, a pleased, mocking grin in your lips. ‘’Well, well. Aren't you guys a couple of damn good detectives,'' you laughed, tilting your head to the side. ''It must run in the blood, right?''

They all react differently, Yuna and Jia being actually gasping in a mix of shock and fear. Chenle and Doyoung looked like they wanna chop your head off at any minute, Johnny, Jeno and Renjun were porting similar stances, tense and looking cautious. Donghyuck, on the other hand, seemed conflicted and a little bit scared, just like Mark, who you listened was praying with his voice low.

But Jaemin…he just stared at you with an empty face. It’s like he was wearing a mask. No emotions, not the pretty glow in his eyes or his enchanting smile, no fear of hate radding off his body. He just… looked at you with the most blank face, making your heart twist with anguish at his disinterest.

"Witch," Doyoung spited through clenched teeth, his hand trembling with fury as he holded his torch. "You’re a liar and a sinner, and you’ll burn in hell for it."

‘’Me? I’m the one going to hell? Dodo,’’ you responded in a teasing tone, laughing to yourself, ’’you don’t think you’re going too? Or at least to prison, this looks like a group murder attempt to me. But I think we should ask the expert, where’s the future lawyer? What do you think, Junnie?’’

‘’Shut the fuck up, evil demon,’’ Renjun said in the iciest tone you’ve ever heard from him.

You pouted squinting your eyes at him. '’Sheesh, I just wanted free legal counseling, is that a sin?’’ You joked, laughing again when they stayed silent, letting out a surprised yelp when someone grabbed your tied arms from behind and lifted you up, dragging you to the stake. You turned your head to see Mark and you grinned at him. ’’Oh, the pastor’s son! Wait, are we having a moment just us or something? How does this actually go? I wanna confess, Father, let me confess!’’

You felt this body tensing at your mockery tone while you tried to shake his hands off you, fighting against him. Chenle joined in and grabbed your hair in his fist, throwing your head back with painful force until his face meets yours.

He slapped you with the fame force as before, done with your little jokes. ‘’Who are you? Why’d you came to this town?’’

You whimpered from the pain and licked your dry and hurt lips, tasting the new blood decorating them. ‘’Sarah,’’ you explained with a sigh, ‘’me and my mom- we have a coven. I'm connected to her, she’s my guide. She started appearing in my dreams, showing me everything,’’ you growled now, all the teasing and laughter gone from you. Your body shuddered with pure, red rage that made your veins and heart burn with anger. ‘’How the town treat them, how they tortured and her sisters too, how they… they took everything from them until the were nothing.’’

You let out some honest tears, and you didn't knew if they were yours or hers. You closed your eyes for a moment, thinking about all the violent scenes you’ve seen from years and years in your dreams. How the coven were betrayed by friends, blind by envy and jealousy. How they spend nights fearing for what’s next to come, who will be taken for tests or just tortured in the name of God. The way they burned her house and stole her animals, how they sent the youngest to her death by throwing into the deep waters with her ankles tied with rocks and watched how she drowned- and the way the people breathed in relief, knowing the town was being cleaned and guided by the lovable founders.

They weren’t just girls. They were poor souls, of course, and the Reverend reminded the people that they have to have mercy in their heart while praying for them, because the girls were tainted and marked by the Devil’s touch.

The same girls that helped the town in the best way they could, providing the pregnant woman special medicine to help their discomfort and even taking their late mom's place and help deliver some healthy babies. The same girls who gave milk and butter to the ones who didn’t get a good harvest before winter. The same girls that after a long day of work played like kids in the forest together, picking up flowers and singing to the moon.

None of that mattered. Everybody turned their backs on them.

The women accused them of seducing their sons, dancing provocatively and naked in the woods, having many testimonies about it. Their friends envying the way the girls will catch the attention with their beauty and the sound of their laugh, the way the Major will look at Sarah with so much desire. The men resented her and her sisters and the way the girls lived alone and unmarried, like they weren’t dignified enough to take their hand and bless the town with more members. Even more scandalous, doing men's work like taking care of the farm by themselves, why did the girls have more land than them? Why did the sisters ignore them and their advances?

And the Reverend… oh, how he loved it. The way they all listened to his sermons, how they believed his words, the direct voice of God coming off him. He was the salvation personificated, taking his precious town into the blessed gates of heaven. That power was so intoxicating. And when the accusations started coming in, he was just ecstatic. He was taking care of the town, he kept to remind himself with satisfaction even his thoughts were interrupted everytime the girls would scream nonstop at the torture room.

‘’They were evil beings, just like you-’’ Jeno said in a venomous way with his hands pressed tight in fists. ’’Playing games like you do, doing witchcraft and tarnishing the city with it.’’

‘’They were not! The town- they betrayed them! Just because you don’t understand what they did it doesn't mean they were evil,’’ you screamed, fighting again against Chenle and Mark with fierceness, not caring if you could get hit again, ’’and all of you are just like them, the mighty Founders,’’ you spited, ‘’fuck you!’’

‘’Shup the up fuck,’’ Johnny growled, coming to you and slaping you with force. ‘’You tried to curse this town again, just like Sarah. You bright harm to us, remember?’’

‘’I just gave you guys the real evil witch the town wanted for so long and I had fun doing it. But the final will be different this time.’’

You saw red, feeling so angry and hysterical, you couldn’t believe that after all this time, after centuries… they were still here. The judge, the banker, the notary and the commissioner, the medic and the reverend- even the major… They were still here, in the form of Renjun, Donghyuck, Doyoung, Jeno, Johnny, Mark and Jaemin. Even the accusers, who looked just like Yuna and Jia.

But I’m here too, you thought, trying to comfort yourself.

"All of you are just like them," you said with venom, looking at each and every one of them, ‘’believing yourself to be better, thinking of taking a life as if it’s nothing. The witches did nothing wrong, why was it a crime to appreciate nature and its gifts? But the council didn't care, did they? They locked them up, tortured them, and then staged that... fake trial, when they already knew what they were going to do with them.’’

Chenle and Mark tied you to the stake by the wrist, so tight it cuts your blood circulation. They all rounded the bonfire, the smell of gasoline filling your nose after Johnny wet the big wooden sticks placed on top of another and straw too. Their hot torches didn't come down yet, since they were waiting for their leader's signal, just like they always did.

‘’Some last words?’’ Jaemin asked next to your ear, soft lips tracing the side of your neck and his hands caressing your arms for what you think it’s a goodbye.

‘’I love you,’’ you felt his hand grabbing the restraints on your wrist and the cold edge of a razor against your skin there. You sensed the warmth of the fire from the torches coming close to you, ready to burn you when the leader says so. You turned your face to the side, wanting to see him as you whisper your words to him. ’’Jaemin, I love you.’’

‘’I love you too, my pretty witch,’’ he whispered, cutting the rope and taking a step back, freeing you. He turned around and collides against Chenle, who saw the whole thing and was rushing to the stake to stop it. With no words, Jaemin lifted his hand and in a fast and unexpected move he cutted the Founder's throat, slicing it open.

Everything happend so fast at the same time.

Chenle started coughing and splashing blood everywhere as he fell to the ground, the majority of the red liquid landing in Jaemin while Yuna and Jia screamed. Jeno lunged for the leader’s body tackling him as Mark and Johnny were in shock, Mark actually letting go of his torch on the ground to cover his mouth drowning the scream that comes out of it. Renjuns runned to his dying friend, trying to apply pressure on the wound on but it’s impossible, the blood coming too fast outta the sliced throat. Donghyuck followed Renjun, throwing his torch without a thought as he rushed to help his friends, turning hysterical.

No one payed attention to you for a moment, or how you moved your fingers in the dirt, making symbols as you sing softly but hurrying, the familiar warmth of power coming to your body. You digged your fingers into the ground and sing more fierceling, casting a powerful, dark spell until your eyes turned black. When Doyoung realiced what you were doing it’s too late, not able to took a few steps towards you when his body is suddenly freezing and his hand covers his aching throat in pain, gasping for air.

Everybody else follows, feeling their throats closing as if somebody was choking them with so much force, making their faces red and desperate right away. They tried to fight it but it was impossible, the invisible touch squeezing so hard until they start losing consciousness and some noses bleed, eyes coming out of their sockets, hands falling just like their bodies.

Your nose bleeded too from the power you’re using, body shaking but unable to stop, feeling deep inside you an intense satisfaction as you saw how the Founders were dying slowly, just like the seven sisters died so long ago; suffering. The muffled sounds of the Founders started to fade- even Chenle, who took his last breath.

Your body lied on the ground after everything comes to an end, trying to breath and feeling so exhausted. The whole thing leaved you completely weak in a way you never felt before, but then again, you never used your magic to something like this before. You were powerful, but this was a different type of magic that took almost too much energy- but you could swear you felt them, your past coven members inside you and of course, Sarah. In the middle of feeling completely drained you also felt a peace that warmed your heart. You suspected it was her.

While you blinked hard trying not to go into unconsciousness, for a second you throughout you saw the witches running through the trees of the dark forest with their hands intertwined, a distant chorus of laughter dying in the wind until the place was silent again. You didn’t bother to look around to see the bodies of the Founders and of your two friends, dead too.

You heared footsteps rapidly coming your way and the next thing you knew Jaemin was taking you in his arms, eyes darkening with worry and desperate searching your face and body for injuries, afraid for the first time in the whole night when he saw how hard you fell to the ground and stayed still for the most fucking long moments of his life.

‘’Fuck, baby,’’ he breathed, hugging you tightly against his body, shaking just like you, ‘’you scared the shit outta me.’’ Jaemin closed his eyes and inhaled in your neck, needing to feel your perfume in a mad manner. ‘’I thought you were really hurt- fuck.’’

You smiled, feeling a little pain on your face from the blows you took before, now dried blood stains decorating your skin. ‘’I’m okay, Nana,’’ you said, leaning backwards so you can see his face, ‘’I’m just- I feel so tired.’’

Jaemin hissed seeing the blood and some parts of your pretty face darkened in red- no doubt there will be bruises tomorrow. His face was beated too, taking some hard punches from Jeno as they were fighting before.

‘’Shit-’’ he started, tensed jaw and voice full of disgust, stopping himself as the leader felt guilt rushing to his heart seeing you hurt. ‘’Baby, I’m so sorry. I take it too far?’’ He questioned, frowning.

‘’I’m okay,’’ you repeated, kissing him gently on the lips. Your boyfriend kisses you in the same way, raising his hands to your face and holding it so softly and careful- it melts your heart. You tasted some blood too, noticing the splatter of it in Jaemin’s face and clothes when you separate a little bit, your movements slowed as you feel totally drained of energy. ‘’You did so well, Nana. It had to look real, remember?’’

Jaemin kissed you again, his thumb caressing your cheek. ‘’You looked so fucking hot back there,’’ he admited with a evil smirk.

‘’Jaemin, please! What the hell, stop!’’ you laughed incredibly scandalized at his words, a little bit ironic knowing what you just did, killing in revenge a bunch of people.

‘’What?’’ he laughed, that pretty, full of millions of white perfect teeth showing, ‘’I can’t adore my pretty witch?’’ He calmed a little, still smiling but now more like the lover you know, dark eyes sparking at you. ‘’I'm sorry for pushing you early-’’

‘’Nana, it has to be done, we plan it to be as real as possible. They couldn't suspect you,’’ you repeated one again, smiling to calm him down.

‘’I know but, shit,’’ he sighed, still sensing a little bit of stress rushing, ‘’I can’t ever see you hurt again like that, you understand?’’

‘’Okay,’’ you promised easily because it was true, wanting nothing more than a peaceful life with Jaemin. This time you kissed him, and you shivered with cold and excitement.

You were walking down the road with Jaemin, glued to his side, still feeling weak and exhausted, wishing for two or three days to spend only sleeping, so tired. You felt like passing out at any moment again, but you refused to let Jaemin carry you, who has already done so much for you tonight, besides taking a beating.

Jaemin let you, looking at you and knowing full well that you would end up in his arms in no time. Luckily there don't seemed to be any around, either sleeping or partying, as the night isn't over yet; but you and Jaemin don't stand up suspiciously anyway, your bloodied and beaten figures looking like a fucked up zombie couple costumes or something.

''Thank you,'' you said out of the blue, looking at your boyfriend, ''for everything, tonight. I meant it, Jaemin.''

Jaemin stopped and so do you, you were unable to help the smile on your face as he kissed you tenderly, taking special care with your wounded lips. You felt his arms around you pulling you closer to his body and you melt back into his chest.

‘'There's nothing in the world I wouldn't do for you, baby,'' he said, beaming at you as he nuzzled your bruised cheek adoringly. '’I knew it from the first time I saw you at school, my cute witch. The girl of my dreams, literally.”

You can’t help but laugh, feeling a little embarrassed thinking about the young you, still baby face and everything, pretty different from how you looked now. Jaemin told you once that he dreamed about you for years, seeing you between the rising flames of Sarah’s burning and calling for him.

‘’I will never forget that day,’’ Jaemin muttered. ‘’It felt like my heart recognised yours, angel. You were finally with me after so much time, it felt so right.’’

You felt your eyes well up with hot, thick, love-filled tears that threaten to escape and Jaemin wiped them away with his thumb when they do, smiling at you. “I would do anything for you too, Nana. I just love you so much,” you whispered to his lips, “so damn much.’’

''I love you, my pretty witch,'' Jaemin said as he gives you a small kiss, a sealed promise. ''This time I will never let you go.’’

#na jaemin x reader #na jaemin smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #jaemin smut #wicked season series

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fuckingstrange · 8 months ago

Text

Sweeter than a lolli

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WARNINGS: SMUT - NSFW, Sub!Spencer Reid, handjob, minor praise kink(?), Spencer is such a sweetheart and NOBODY PRAISES HIM FOR IT, Somewhat Soft!Dom reader?, Cumming early-ish, Reid cums on his shirt.

WORDS: 662

PAIRING: Spencer Reid x m!reader

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a/n - IS IT WEIRD I CALL THOSE LOLLI'S?? I KEEP GETTING CALLED BRITISH OR SMT.

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Reid's hands grasp at the side of your head, pulling you into a deeper kiss as you unbuckle his belt and manage to tug his pants down while he remains seated on the couch with you kneeling over him. He whimpers into your mouth when your fingers wrap around his cock, stroking at a slow, teasing pace.

You might be trying to tease Reid, but the slow pace is all he seems to need right now as whine after whine falls from his lips and drowns in the deep kiss. Your hand comes up to caress his cheek, feeling the skin heat up whenever he accidentally thrusts into your hand.

“Babe, please..” Reid pleads oh so sweetly, not even having to really ask before you're understanding, and giving him, what he wants. You adjust your grip on him, letting your thumb slide up to brush over the head of his cock while you continue to slowly pump. The gasp he gives you in return is rewarding enough, watching his head knock back from the pleasure makes you bite your lip.

Your free hand slowly moves to support his head, holding onto the back of it as you speed up the movement of your hand. You know he's yearned for your touch since he was taken out on a nearly two-week long case, so you plan on giving him everything he asks for, not letting him lift a finger.

Reid whimpers in an almost pathetic manner, but you can't help but find it adorable. He lifts his head to press his lips against yours again, the feeling of his tounge brushing along yours making his heart flutter. He starts moving his hips in time with your strokes, moaning in a boyishly needy way. His hands move to your shoulders, slender fingers ever so gently digging into your skin, making sure not to hurt you while needing something to hang on to.

“You're so sweet, Spencer.. Being so sweet..” You praise, words a bit muffled against his lips while you gently squeeze his cock when it twitches in your hand. You can feel the amount of pre that's been rubbed over his tip from your never-ending circular motions on it, your thumb gliding that much easier to spread more as it runs in a nearly steady stream from him. Reid’s cheeks heat up more at the praise, cherry red dusted over his face and the tips of his ears.

He pulls back from the kiss to bury his head into the crook of your neck, whining “I-I think I'm gonna- gonna cum,” in a softer tone than the other noises that's spilled from his lips. You've been with him long enough to understand he definitely is close just from the difference in his tone.

You respond by speeding up the pace of your hand, your thumb now swiping back and forth over his slit. He gasps and begins to writhe beneath you, body shaking and hips thrusting up to meet your hand while strings of curses slip from him. With how long he went without your touch, or even his own, it's not that much later that his orgasm washes over him.

Reid presses his face into the crook of your neck as his hips still, fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt while he ruins his own with the mess of his own cum. You can hear him choke on his own tears, your free hand moving to start caressing the back of his neck while you gently work him through the high.

“There you go, sweetheart..” You murmur in his ear once he starts to untense, cock beginning to soften in your hand before you let go. You know you should get him into the shower, or at least get a rag to clean him, but he seems so tired from the week that you decide to strip him of his dirtied shirt and let him lie down on the couch.

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July 23 a/n edit — I LITERALLY HAD THE PERFECT FUCKING CHANCE TO MAKE THIS A GIVING HIM HEAD FIC WHAT WAS I THINKING !!! KYS PAST ME !!!

#spencer reid #spencer reid x male reader #x male reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid smut #hotboxed fanfiction

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cevansbrat0007 · 8 months ago

Note

There is a trend on some social media where the wife/Gf gives her man a full plate and only her self a little saying that is all that was left. How would Andy and Ari act in that situation?

What's Eating You, Mr. Levinson?

Summary: You decide to test your man's patience with a prank you saw on TikTok. CLICK HERE to read Andrew Barber's reaction to the same prompt.

Warnings: Mature Themes, References to Smut, Ari Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, TikTok Hijinks, Brief Mention of Calorie Counting, Bickering, Manhandling, Threats of Spanking/Punishment, Discussion of a Sex Tape, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Prompt brought to you courtesy of a Reader Request. This fic features Ari Levinson from my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

You weren’t quite sure what possessed you to do this. If anybody asked, you would claim temporary insanity. But right now you were about to get up to some mischief.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” You mutter under your breath as you adjust the position of the camera you hid tucked away behind a plant. Pleased with the angle, you make a mental note to revisit the world of Harry Potter sooner rather than later.

It was officially time for a reread.

Tonight you were gonna play a little joke on your bounty hunter boyfriend. One that you’d come across the other day after accidentally straying from the wonderful world of BookTok. You just hoped he would find it as amusing as you did. In fact, you were certain that he would.

Eventually.

Hands on your hips, you do an about-face and traipse back into the kitchen to get started on dinner. On tonight’s menu was a Tuscan pork roast, complete with red wine mushrooms and Haricots Verts – also known as French Green Beans. And for dessert, you’d decided to whip up your man’s favorite: key lime pie

So, even if he got pissed at you later, you were confident you had something that would soothe his ruffled feathers.

Fingers crossed.

Later that Evening…

The heady thrum of excitement hits you the moment you hear the open and shut of your front door. Having anticipated his arrival, you’d even thrown on a new dress and cued up a little music. While it wasn’t your usual style, you knew without a doubt that Ari would appreciate your efforts.

“Bird?”

The sound of your nickname has a smile forming on your lips before you even realize it. Smoothing your hands over your skirt, you make your way towards your mudroom, eager to greet your handsome bounty hunter.

His eyes light up the moment he sees you. He stands there for a moment, drinking in the sight you clad in your new black dress and wedge heels.

“Well, get a look at you.” He breathes, allowing his bag to drop at his feet next to his forgotten boots.

“You like?” Biting your lip, you give into temptation and do a little spin.

Confidence blooms when you hear his appreciative whistle. But that’s nowhere near enough for your man. Because now that you’d gone and given him a show, he wanted more.

“Oh baby, I love.”

Pulling you into his arms, his mouth quickly descends upon your own. His tongue wastes no time finding yours, exploring every inch, every corner of your mouth. He lets you know without words that he’s so unbelievably happy to be home holding you like this.

You cling to him, your hands roving beneath the soft fabric of his t-shirt to run along the sculpted plane of his back. When he finally lets you up for air it’s so he can nuzzle his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet, unique scent.

“You’re beautiful.” He rasps, pecking your lips once more, his large hands come up to frame your face. “So beautiful. Can’t wait to take this dress off you later, see what you might be hiding underneath.”

“All in good time, Beast.” Your lashes flutter closed as you lean into his touch. “All in good time.”

“What if I don’t wanna wait?” His husky growl rumbles from somewhere deep in his chest as he fiddles the material of your skirt.

“Well, you’re gonna.” Comes your cheeky response. “So go on and wash up for supper. We’re having something yummy.” You bat as his hands, intending to shoo him up the stairs.

The look that flashes across your man’s face makes it clear that he’d much rather have you for dinner instead. He boxes you in, slowly crowding you with his much larger frame as he backs you against a nearby wall.

However, you refuse to let yourself be swayed.

“I mean it, mister.” You repeat, poking him in the chest. “Now, be a good boy and go wash up.” Ari’s eyes darken at your words. His head dips without warning as he bites your finger, sucking the digit into his mouth, making you gasp.

“Alright, Duchess. Have it your way.” He growls once he finally deigns to release you. “You’d best be ready for me when I get back.” With that, he gives you his back as he strides off in the direction of the stairs.

“I ain’t scared of you.” You tell his retreating form, waiting until you hear his heavy footfalls sounding on the floor above you. Only then do you move, intending to finish setting up for dinner.

‘Alright, sugar.’ You think, taking a second to fluff your curls. ‘Time to earn yourself an Oscar.’

Fifteen Minutes Later…

You’ve just finished hiding away what’s left of your meal when you hear Ari make his way into your tiny dining room.

“Have a seat, Beast!” You call out, hoping that the act you were about to put on was at least mildly convincing. “I–I’ll be right in.”

Blowing out a breath you snag your bounty hunter’s plate, along with a glass of wine, and head into the next room. Although he admittedly wasn’t much of a wine drinker before he met you, he tended to enjoy whatever selection you paired with your meal.

Tonight you’d picked a lovely pinot noir.

This time when you see him, you’re treated to the sight of a freshly showered Ari lazily sprawled in one of your slightly too small chairs. His still damp hair is pushed back off his face as he waits for you, patiently biding his time while he plans his next move.

Or so you assumed, anyway.

“Here you are.” You sing as you approach. “Tonight I bring you an expertly roasted Tuscan pork loin, complete with a garlic and mushroom risotto and french-style green beans.”

“Smells good, baby.” He absentmindedly scratches at his jaw while he surveys the mountain of food on his plate.

“Hopefully it tastes good too.” You lean down to press a quick kiss against his temple. “I’ll, uh, be right back with mine.” The handsome brute smacks your ass when you turn to depart, making you yip.

“Hurry back.” He grunts, letting out a chuckle when he sees you trying to rub the sting out of your butt.

Seconds later you return with your food before quietly taking a seat at the table, all the while refusing to make eye contact. Picking up your napkin, you make a show of draping it across your knee, and then…

You wait.

It doesn’t take long for Ari to notice the differences between your respective plates, and it takes even less time for him to speak on it – much to your internal satisfaction.

“What the–?” Ari pushes his plate aside so that he can get a better look at your virtually empty one. “Where the hell’s the rest of your food, baby?” His deep voice comes out deceptively soft.

“Huh?” You cast him a sheepish glance, feigning embarrassment. “Oh this? It’s fine.”

“That’s not what I asked, Bird.” The quiet steel in his voice is impossible to miss.

“I know it wasn’t. But this was all that was left, so…” You trail off, averting your gaze in favor of using your fork to push food around your plate. “It’s fine.”

“There’s that damn word again.” You hear him grumble under his breath, his nostrils flaring in frustration. “I got news for you, Bird. It ain’t fine.” He grouses, reaching for you even as you shift away.

“But it is.” You sing, daintily fanning yourself with a napkin.

“No it isn’t.” He sings right back, clearly not understanding your game. Which was a good thing. It meant that you two could play a little longer.

“Look, if this is about you feeling like you need to start counting calories again…” Ari goes to rest his elbows on the table, his own meal all but forgotten. “Then please believe me when I tell you that you look phenomenal. And not just tonight, baby. I mean every night.”

You feel your cheeks heat as your body responds to his praise. That familiar warmth soon spreads, pooling in your belly while you mentally preen at his words.

“Thank you, Ari.”

“Oh don’t thank me, sweet girl.” His already husky voice dips another octave. “I just want you to eat.” You stifle a small shiver when the roughened pads of his fingertips lightly graze over your hand. “Now, do me a kindness and take your pretty little self back into that kitchen and fix yourself a proper plate.”

And there it was. He thought you were lying about there not being any leftovers. He was right, of course. Just not the way he thought he was.

“I would if I could, sugar.” You stretch out your legs beneath the table as you prepare to really sell the narrative. “Honest. But there really isn’t anything left. I…accidentally only bought one pork loin instead of two. And then I misjudged the recipe for the risotto, but that was most likely on account of the fact that I was in my feelings about the state of Herb & Twine’s green beans selection. It wasn’t very good.”

Ari doesn’t tell you this, but he’s actually impressed by your ability to speak that fast without so much as taking a breath. Instead all you receive is a gruff “uh huh” for your trouble.

“So,” You forge on, now fully committed to the bit. “I salvaged what I could out of the meal I planned and then gave most of it to you.”

“Why?”

Boy, he did not look happy. Which was great news for you

“Because…” You draw out the word, wincing when you belatedly notice the sudden tick in his jaw. “I just…felt like you shouldn’t have to suffer for my mistakes.”

“Oh.” He hums, pursing his lips as he mulls over your story. “Well, I reckon we’ll just have to fix that.”

Unsure of what he means, you open your mouth to keep talking, only to let out a shriek when Ari suddenly reaches over to grip the back of your chair to drag you, and it, over closer to him.

“Christ, Beast!” Your hand flies to your still-heaving chest as you will your heartbeat to calm down.

But your man’s not done yet.

You scarcely have time to catch your breath before you’re hauled into his lap. Immediately your arms go to weave themselves around his neck to keep you from falling. Not that Ari would’ve ever allowed that to happen.

Seemingly unbothered by your rather dramatic response, Ari seeks to balance you on top of his muscled thighs as he leans over again to retrieve your plate. You watch in confusion as he unceremoniously dumps the contents onto his own dish before setting yours aside once more.

“Hate to break it to you, Duchess.” He seamlessly adjusts your positions so that he can grasp his knife and fork. “But I don’t need all this food. So it looks like we’ll just have to share.”

Momentarily stunned by this turn of events you can only nod as he feeds you a tender bite of pork. It takes a moment for you to find your voice, but when you finally do, it’s to utter two simple words.

“Ari, wait.”

“‘Fraid I’m not really in the mood to wait.” Your impatient bounty hunter warns. But he does pause his efforts, his fork hovering mere centimeters from your mouth. “You’re nuts if you think I’m the kinda man who would even consider stuffing himself while his lady sits by and starves.”

“I know.” You assure him before rearranging your body so that you’re facing him, your thighs now straddling his hips. “And I think that’s awfully sweet.”

“Great. So how about you –”

“But since this is a prank…” The grin you’re sporting threatens to split your face in two. “It looks like you get to keep your food.”

Ari blinks back at you, his mouth briefly opening and closing in a way that very much reminds you of a fish. You feel positively giddy as you press your hands on either side of his bearded face so you can plant a kiss on his full lips while he tries, and fails, to make sense of what you just said.

“Run that by me one more time.” His quiet snarl is enough to have you soaking your panties.

“I saw this thing on TikTok, where these women all decided to prank their boyfriends by serving them this big ol’ plate of food, while pretending to give themselves only a little bit and claiming that was all that was leftover. They filmed their reactions and posted ‘em for everyone else to see.”

“What the hell is a fuckin’ TikTok?”

“It’s this app where you…” You pause as you try to find the right words. “Where people can, um–”

“Post dumb shit?” He quirks a tawny brow as he tries to remain serious, even though you’re also pretty sure that you just saw his lips twitch. “Come up with new and inventive ways to torture the men that love them?”

“I mean, that’s not all it is.” You take a moment to whisper kisses along his chiseled jaw. “But I guess that’s a pretty accurate description.”

“Hmph.” Your grumpy bounty hunter continues to glower at you, even as his large, warm hands move to settle on your hips. “And am I right to assume you’re recording this?”

“Maybe…” You giggle, not bothering to hide just how funny you found this all to be. “Oh – but I was never gonna post it. Promise.”

You hold up your pinky, trying your hardest to look solemn. But the look Ari gives you lets you know that he’s done falling for your act.

“I’m warning you, Duchess.” He grunts, lightly bouncing you on his lap. “I swear to God, if I catch myself on that fuckin’ tock clock…thing…you have my word that I’m gonna redden that ass.”

“I already told you I wasn’t gonna.” You reassure him once more, resting your forehead against his. “By the way, thanks for bein’ such a good sport about the whole thing.”

“No problem.” He flashes you a feral grin, revealing his pearly white teeth. It shoots straight to your core. “But the way I see it, you kinda owe me one. Don’t you?” He leans in close as his hands begin gently kneading your curves.

“Um…I don’t think–” You let out a soft whimper when he drags his nose along the delicate column of your throat.

“Oh, but I do.” He nips at your jaw.

“I suppose that’s fair.”

“Trust me, it is.” His sensual growl has you practically shivering with need. “Which is why you’re gonna show me where you hid that camera.” His lust-filled gaze drops to your cleavage as he openly begins undressing you with his eyes.

“Now hold on a minute, Beast –” You stammer once realization dawns.

“Aw, don’t fret.” Ari’s rueful chuckle lets you know that you will never win this battle. “You’ll have your turn to direct our little movie.” Ari suddenly stands without warning so that he can gently deposit you back in your own chair. “Especially now that I know how much you love performing for the camera.

Oh, the man had you there. Sometimes your Beast was a bit too cunning for your liking.

“I don’t think–” You try again, now feeling shy. “What we do in the dark has no business being on film!”

“Hm, guess we’ll just have to keep the lights on. But for now, let’s get you fed.” He drops a kiss on your head before picking up your empty dish and sauntering off towards the kitchen. “We’ll talk lighting and camera angles once you’re finished.”

Good Lord on high. What had you just gotten yourself into?

“Here we are.” Ari continues upon his return a few minutes later. He sets your down in front of you before taking your napkin and redraping it across your lap. “But I’d eat fast if I were you.”

“Um…why?” You ask, eyeing him warily.

“Because.” He winks at you before taking a seat and enthusiastically spearing a piece of meat onto his fork. “Tonight’s dress rehearsal starts in thirty minutes.”

END

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tinalbion · 3 months ago

Note

Hi Tina!!!

I just saw your requests are open for Logan...❤️‍🔥

Might I request something a wee bit nsfw? (actually completely nsfw if I'm being honest here) I just saw a tiktok that did a deep dive into wolverine's animalistic instincts and I seriously cannot stop thinking about it.

Those instincts in bed? yes please

With that being said can we get some biting and possessiveness up in here. I was thinking maybe Logan is a bit embarrassed by it but reader is completely accepting. It's mating szn and Logan's in heat 🥵🥵🥵

'𝐈 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞' ||

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Logan Howlett/ The Wolverine x fem!Reader

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞! Minors, DO NOT interact! Smut with some plot, kitchen sex, fem!Reader, unprotected p in v, biting/ marking, possessiveness, jealousy, animalistic tendencies, canon typical language, dirty talk, Logan gets embarrassed by being a little freak

𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡: 5.2k

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: My lovely friend @nepptunez also asked for some animalistic Logan, and I want to make a little drabble about that later, but definitely needed to get this out of my system 😅 But I hope you both enjoy!

It was always the same thing when you and Logan had your times together, you would have this song and dance around one another, and he was hesitant and reserved while you were craving him in unspeakable ways, but it always ended up in a heated and frustrated session that left you breathless regardless. But there was always something about Logan that seemed to feel off to you like he was hiding something. You knew he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize you both, you had much more trust in him than you had in anyone in your life, so you wanted to get to the bottom of it before making it a big deal.

You had no idea where to start or how to figure out what was ailing him, but you knew he’d been through a lot in the past, you never held that against him. Maybe it had something to do with trying to trust himself to open up, you knew he was a tough egg to crack most days. Either way, you sat at the kitchen table with your drink, scrolling through your phone aimlessly as if your mind was somewhere else.

Logan walked in, waking up slowly from sleep as he wiped the rest from his eyes, he saw you awake already, which wasn’t usual but it didn’t bother him. “Mornin’,” he grumbled as he shuffled to the coffee pot.

You smiled as you looked up at him, watching as he rolled his shoulders, cracking the bones and stretching his muscles. “Morning, Logan, sleep well?”

“Yeah. You’re up early.” Always the man of few words in the mornings. He poured himself a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter, staring at you as he adjusted to the sunlight.

You peeked over at him with a smile and shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep, my brain never turns off when I want it to,” you laughed, trying to avoid the conversation you were dreading, you just wanted to figure out what his problem was without getting him upset, especially if it meant him having to work through some unresolved issues. You hated forcing him to talk about it, knowing he’d spit it out when he was good and ready.

Logan nodded as he listened, his cup brought to his lips as he watched you, your heartbeat picked up slightly, as did your temperature. He took notice of these things, but he never commented on them, not unless it became too much of a problem in his eyes. “I get that,” he said softly, drinking more of his coffee from the mug in his hand.

“Speaking of, I noticed you haven’t been dreaming as much,” you pointed out with a genuine smile. “I’m happy something is working for you,” you said with a hum that followed.

This made his eyes flicker away from you, feeling almost, what, shame, embarrassment? He wasn’t sure, but it was a good point; he hadn’t been waking up with as many nightmares as before. Logan had just let out a huff in reply and nodded before taking another sip of his coffee. “I suppose I haven’t,” he mused. “Guess I have that goin’ for me.”

You just stared up at him softly and offered a kind smile. “Yeah, I’m happy about that, means you can finally get some good sleep,” you joked and stood up from your chair, walked up to him, and kissed his cheek gently as you grabbed more coffee. “Oh, by the way, I got some errands to run, so if you need anything you can let me know, okay?”

Logan had always gone with you on your errands, especially since getting used to this world, the one that was still foreign to him, but this time, he sensed your hesitancy. He shot you a look and seemed almost offended. “I ain’t goin’ with you?” He asked.

“Well, you can stay home and relax if you want, it’s just gonna be a quick thing,” you said softly, pouring some creamer into your cup and mixing it.

Logan didn’t like that, he didn’t like the quick brush-off or how you insisted he stay behind. Maybe it was just you wanting him to relax, not to become too overwhelmed considering all of this was still new to him. But something in the way you were acting was getting him slightly riled up. He watched you carefully as you walked back to your seat, acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary. He didn’t want you to leave the house without him, it felt wrong, and he understood this thought process was… not right, it was stupid. But why was he growing irritated with the thought of you leaving him here?

You scrolled through your phone a bit and checked the weather, seeing how warm it would be today, then you finished your coffee and smiled as you stood up, looking at Logan as he continued to look miserable. You looked at him with your brows furrowed, he seemed to be avoiding your gaze.

“Logan, is everything okay?” You asked him as you always did, and he would probably respond the way he always did.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.”

There it was. You sighed a little but nodded and smiled softly up at him. “Okay, if you need to talk, just let me know, but I should be back soon. Maybe I could pick up something for dinner.”

His expression shifted but only a little. “Sure, that sounds good, princess,” he replied and suddenly pulled you into his embrace, one arm tightly wrapped around you as he buried his face in your hair.

He loved your smell, your scent was one of the things that grounded him when he got in these moods, and it was tough for him to release you, but you said you’d be back soon, there was nothing to worry about. He was just overreacting, maybe he had an off night, and didn’t sleep enough, he tried to explain it away even though he knew what his problem was.

“Okay, be careful, yeah?”

This made you hum softly, your smile widened as you wrapped your arms tightly around him. “Always am, be back soon, big guy,” you said and leaned up on your tiptoes, placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

Logan let out a satisfied hum, which could have been mistaken for a growl of happiness, and placed a firm kiss on your head. “Hurry back,” he said his tone still gruff. He was hesitant to let you go, but the sooner you left, the sooner you’d come back to him.

He didn’t have the patience to deal with Wade right now, and thankfully, he was off being whisked away by his girl, Vanessa. As much as Logan appreciated the way they tried to include him, this time of year was always the most difficult, but even more so with you here. He would just have to wait it out if he could repress the urges…

Logan paced back and forth in your shared space, his instincts were going crazy right now as he tried to find ways to calm himself. Before you, he had never really had an issue controlling himself or his urges, they had always been there, kept at bay, but something about you being here with him made him feel ten times more on edge. He was an animal, everyone in his life reminded him of that, and that was true to a fault.

This time of year was the worst, the most on edge he ever was, and he couldn’t control it around you for much longer. Leaving wasn’t an option, keeping you at a distance wasn’t either, so he fought it. It was only a few days he dealt with the heat rising in his body, the way his senses were heightened and he could smell you clearer than ever, but the ache he felt in his stomach and between his legs was growing more and more unbearable to handle. If he could just have a taste, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad… but the thought of hurting you kept him at bay, that was the last thing Logan wanted, and he couldn’t think of what would happen if he did…

While he was pacing back home, you were out grabbing some things, running errands, and doing what you always had on your weekends off. It was your ‘me time’ as you got your favorite drink from the cafe down the street and drove to the grocery store to grab some things for the weekend. You had a great dinner in mind you wanted to make for Logan, so you made sure to make a list of everything you needed. As you were halfway through, some guy was looking at you hard down the aisle. It seemed like a familiar face, but you weren’t sure. As you walked closer, it was definitely a familiar face.

“Oh my gosh, is that you, Danny?” You asked.

The man’s face lit up and he smiled wide as he stepped up and reached an arm out, hugging you briefly. “Wow, is that you?” He asked with the same tone of surprise. “You look great! How’ve you been? Haven’t seen you since, what, end of middle school?”

You laughed and nodded. “Yeah, I think so, that felt like ages ago, didn’t it?” You asked with a wide smile. “How’s life?”

“Ah well, had a wife, divorced, got a great kid out of it though. You?”

You shrugged and smiled. “Not married, but seeing someone, he’s great. Different. No kids.”

Danny smiled and shrugged in return. “They’re not for everyone, but I hope your guy is treatin’ you nice. It’s great to see you though, we should catch up one day. I’m usually at the coffee shop down the road every Sunday, it’s my one day of peace.”

“Maybe I could meet you there next week!” You hummed with a smile and hugged him again. “Be seeing you!”

Enough distractions, you had brought up Logan and you felt that little voice inside your head, you missed him and just wanted to sit next to him right now. So you hurried through the grocery store, ran one more errand, and drove home as soon as you could.

You got home and entered through the door with your arms full, but Logan was already there with his arms open to grab the bags from you. “Oh, thanks, Lo,” you smiled as you walked in with your single bag in tow.

He had stopped for a moment and sniffed heavily where you stood, his face contorted from stoic to completely annoyed. You were none the wiser as you began to put away everything in the cabinets, smiling as you were just happy to be back home. Facing away from you, his jaw clenched hard as you began to talk about your errands, about how you had some ideas you both could do around town if he wanted to try something new, but after a while, you weren’t sure that he was listening.

“Logan, you okay?” You asked softly as you walked around the kitchen table and stood behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

He tensed beneath your touch and turned slightly to peek over his shoulder. “Yeah, I’m fine, just listenin’,” he grumbled.

You looked up at him and squeezed him gently, staring with concern in your features. “You sure, Logan? You’ve been acting off the past few days and I was hoping it wasn’t something I’ve done.”

Logan sniffed the air, smelling the assaulting scent on your clothes, it was strong and he did not like it one bit. “Where were you today?” he asked suddenly.

With a small step backward, you stared at him in confusion and slight irritation. “I told you I went to run errands, pick up groceries, as I do every weekend. Logan, what are you implying?”

“You got some asshole’s smell on you, it’s strong, it’s infuriating,” he growled, turning around quickly to walk up to you, towering above you. “So whatever happened out there is really pissin’ me off.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, then your face lit up in realization. “Oh, I saw an old friend from school, he hugged me, that’s it. Told him a little about you, told him you were great.”

Logan could hear what you were saying, but the senses in him were on high alert and they didn’t care what you said to this guy about him. You smelled like him, like some stranger, he needed to change that and fast. He backed you up against the nearby wall his figure towered over you while one hand was placed beside your head while the other was splayed across the top of your chest and collarbone. He was holding back, you could see it, he was trying not to lose himself.

You placed your hand on his chest and looked up at him, your eyes staring directly into his. “Logan, what’s been going on with you this week?” You asked softly, your gentle voice pulling him into a pit of desire.

“I…” he paused and wondered if this was even something he should be telling you. This was incredibly embarrassing, what would you think of him then after he told you? He huffed and looked away, annoyance etched into his features while he tried to avoid yet another awkward situation.

Your hand was placed on his cheek, pulling his face to look at you. “Logan, you know you can tell me anything,” you cooed softly, smiling up at him like that… It slowly began to chip away at the walls he had built for himself, and when it came to speaking of things about himself, that was a different story. “You're okay, right?”

Logan sighed as his eyes flickered away from you, but then a surge of rage came over him at the smell of that stranger on you, his face contorted with anger and he lunged forward, grabbed you by the waist, and lifted you onto the counter. He stepped between your thighs, his hands gripping your hips firmly.

“You want to know if I'm okay?” He growled, his face inches from yours.

“Of course, I do!” You said with surprise and slight offense. “I always want to make sure you're alright.”

His grip on your hips tightened, and he leaned in even closer, his eyes burning into yours. “The only way you can make sure I'm fine is by leaving me alone,” he whispered harshly, his breath hot against your skin. “Go now, while I still have some shred of control left.”

You stared at him in surprise, and then looked annoyed he'd even suggested such a thing. “No.”

His expression darkened, and with a growl, his hand grabbed a fistful of your hair, just enough to cause you the least amount of pain as he pulled your head back, exposing your pretty throat to him, smiling as his nose glided across your throat as he inhaled for a moment. He bit down and hard, sinking his teeth into you. He sucked and bit, marking you, his other hand gripping your hip possessively as his body pressed against yours. He was marking you physically, then rubbing his scent all over your body to show you just who you belonged to.

You cried out loudly, your hands gripped his arms to try and pry him off of you because of the pain, but soon, it was mixing with the urge of wanting to feel his teeth in other places.

As you leaned closer against him, he could feel the heat radiating off your body, and it made his head swim. Once he pulled away from marking you, Logan leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a whisper of a kiss. "I'm fine," he growled under his breath. “I just…”

“What?” You urged gently, feeling your entire body ignite with a mixture of fear, arousal, and thrill.

Logan couldn't think straight. The sight of you, the way you smelled and tasted, everything about you was driving him to the edge of wanting to completely lose himself. His hands moved up your body, gripping your shirt and pulling it roughly over your head, revealing your undergarments. "You always test me, even when you're not meanin’ to do a damn thing, you're always wanting me to lose myself in you.”

"Logan, you've never acted like this before..." you replied softly, shivering from the sheer jolt of excitement that shot through your entire body. You felt the excitement pooling between your legs as he placed his hands on your thighs.

He lifted his thumb to trace the outline of your lips before he leaned in to kiss you again. He could feel your body pressed against his and it was almost too much to bear. "Fuck," he growled, "you make me want to lose control, doll… I want to… to do things to do that would show others that you're mine, you hear me?”

You looked up at him, the smell of your arousal was strong in his nose, and he was using all he had to hold himself back. While he held onto your thighs, his hands shot out and pulled at your wrists, pulling your entire body against his as he captured your lips in his, his kiss urgent and demanding as his fingers dug into your skin. He didn’t mean to cause you any pain, he was just so overwhelmed to get that smell off of you, to make sure anyone who had dared come near you would know just who you belonged to.

Your hands began to pull at the hem of his tank top, yanking it from being tucked into his jeans while your lips were still locked with his, but Logan pulled away faster than you could blink, growling low in his throat as he tossed off the tank top to the floor. His chest was heaving, his muscles tensed as his breathing was heavy. His face lingered closely, his gaze hungry as his eyes, dark with desire, stared into yours.

“You’re fuckin’ beautiful,” he said in a low tone.

This made you smile; despite all he was pissed about and all that would happen, he still had the decency to dote on you, love you, and compliment you. In his special way, of course, but he never failed to surprise you. Your hands were then placed on his chest, admiring the muscles, the chest hair, and him overall. “And you’re perfect,” you replied sweetly.

He smiled back at you, a cocky grin at first, slowly fading into a gentle grin as his expression softened momentarily before his gaze turned intense. He reached behind you and unclasped your bra, pulling it off with a quick yank, and tossed it aside. His eyes fell to your breasts, his hands shaking with the effort of controlling himself. When you saw the hesitation, you couldn’t stop from grabbing his massive hands and placing them on your chest, giving him that silent permission. He groaned as his thumbs grazed over your nipples, then he leaned down and sucked one into his mouth, his other hand pinched and rolled the other nipple between his fingers. He sucked hard, his teeth grazing your sensitive flesh.

He pulled away and licked his lips. “Fuck, I love your tits,” he hummed before placing the other in his mouth.

You arched your back in reply, your breathing was already shaky as you felt his hands doing the bare minimum while your body responded in ways you didn’t think it could. You could feel yourself leaking through your underwear, pooling between your legs as Logan was making sure to put his mouth anywhere he could, marking you with his sharp teeth. “Fuck, Logan,” you whined.

He released your nipple with a pop and looked into your eyes, his gaze intense. “You smell fucking perfect, so wet for me and I’ve barely done a thing to you.” He reached his hand between your legs and began to rub your clit through your shorts, his fingers pressed against your soaked fabric. “Damn, you are,” he mused.

You wiggled as you tried to buck your hips to the best of your abilities, but standing wasn’t your strong suit, so you just whined and wished he’d take you already. You were always so willing when he was around you, it didn’t matter what state of mind you were in, you needed him as much as he needed you. You swallowed and panted before looking directly into his eyes.

“Logan, please,” you urged.

“Please what? Use your words, baby girl. Tell me.” He moved his fingers and hooked them onto the waistband of your shorts, tugging at them playfully. “Want these off?”

You nodded eagerly and shimmied out of them as fast as you could, your hands helping him with getting rid of them. “I want you to fuck me,” you breathed, your chest heaving from the excitement. “But you need to ditch those jeans…”

Logan chuckled and quickly unbuttoned, then unzipped his jeans, shoving them down his legs along with his boxers. His hard cock sprung free, already leaking with precum. “Mhm, fuck, got me so excited already,” he grumbled.

“Can’t help it,” you purred in response, watching him carefully as he stepped back toward you, ripping off your underwear with one fluid motion, causing you to gasp.

“I know you can’t,” he said softly as he suddenly grabbed you by your hips, making sure to have your legs wrapped around his waist as he moved you toward the counter, setting you down on the surface. “Now spread those legs and show me your pussy,” he demanded, his voice rough with desire.

You wouldn’t deny him this, so you nodded and leaned back, your hands flat on the counter as you spread your legs open for him, seeing just how wet you’d been for him. Your face was so red, so warm from seeing Logan in such a state that you couldn’t speak much after his eyes raked over you, landing on your soaked heat.

He groaned low at the sight and stepped between your open thighs, grabbed your hips, and pulled you closer to the edge of the counter, the cool marble against your backside. “Wrap your arms around my neck,” Logan instructed. “And your legs around my waist.”

You nodded and did as he told you, scooting forward against the marble eagerly as your legs and arms wrapped around his body.

Logan gripped your ass with both hands and tilted your hips upward. “Atta girl,” he cooed as he began to rub his throbbing cock against your wet folds a few times, teasing you and readying himself. “Look at me,” he said gruffly.

You stared up at him, your eyes wide with eagerness as he planned on taking you here in the kitchen. “Logan,” you breathed softly, wanting to say so much to him, but you couldn’t find the words.

He met your gaze, his eyes burned with intensity. “I’m going to fucking destroy that tight little pussy,” he growled, lining himself up with your entrance. “And you’re gonna love every second of it.”

Your breathing grew heavier as your entire body shivered upon hearing his promise. Of course, you’d love every second, you always loved any attention Logan showered you with. “Yes, Lo, please,” you begged.

He doesn't waste any more time, so with one swift thrust, he buried himself inside of you to the hilt. "Goddamn, you feel so fucking good," he groaned, his head dropped to your shoulder as he fought for control. "You're so wet, so tight.”

You gasped and you moaned out loudly, feeling his cock pushed all the way, bottoming out as you breathed heavily. The sting of his stretch felt so good, that you clung to his body as you tried to ground yourself. "Fuck, Lo, you're so big..”

He grinned at your words and started to piston his hips, slamming into you over and over again. "You just take it," he commanded. "Every inch of me. You wanted it so bad, didn't you? You needed me to fill you up. Show you who you belonged to.”

"Y-Yes, fuck, oh my god, Logan!" You cried out, your nails digging into his arms as he plowed into you.

Logan's eyes flashed with a primal hunger and he wrapped a hand around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. "Say my name again," he growled in your ear. “Tell me who you belong to.”

You gasped and stared into his eyes as his hand wrapped around your throat. "You, Logan!" You cried out, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smirked when he heard his name, feeling your pulse racing under his thumb. He squeezed tighter and started to fuck into you harder. "Good girl," he praised. "Say it again.”

You cried out with each hard thrust, smiling as he used his hand to choke you. "F-Fuck, Logan!”

His grin widened, baring his teeth at you. "Louder. Let the whole house hear who's making you scream." He sped up his movements, his hips slapped against your backside with every powerful thrust. "Come on, baby.”

"LOGAN!" You cried out loudly once more, his hips slapping into yours as you tried your best to hold onto the counter, shaking beneath him.

The sound of his name echoing in the kitchen spurred him on. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and sucked hard, no doubt leaving another mark. "Legs around my waist," he grunted, his voice muffled against your skin.

You did as you were told and made sure to tighten your legs around his waist, panting heavily as he scooted you even closer to his body. Logan started to fuck you more roughly, holding you up easily with your legs around his waist. His thrusts became even harder, every collision making your whole body shake. "I want you to know you’re mine, you understand me? No one can make you feel the way I do.”

“L-Logan, won't last long like this,” you said between gritted teeth and breaths that were pulled from you, your arms wrapped around his shoulders as he buried himself inside of you.

His face contorted in pleasure as he growled against your neck. "Then we'll come together.” He grunted with effort, his abs tightened as he drove into you again and again, his rhythm becoming more erratic. "Touch yourself, need you to come on my cock.”

You reached between your bodies and began to sloppily rub your clit as he thrusts into you, your body shivering heavily as you could feel that coil deep within you wanting to snap. It was difficult to keep going with Logan pounding into you mercilessly, but you needed to appease him, or else who knew how long he'd keep this up.

He groaned encouragingly, his voice hoarse with passion. "That's it, baby. You're so close, I can feel you tightening around me.”

He grunted again, his own release drawing closer. His hips jackhammer between your thighs, the wet sounds of their joining filling the room.

"Ahhh, fuck, Logan, gonna-gonna," you started, attempting to survive just a few more moments until you came undone. "Coming!" You cried out, your entire body clenching around Logan’s as you clung to him.

Hearing your cries of pleasure, Logan plunged deep inside you one final time as he too reached his peak. He threw back his head and roared out his release while he moved his hands to your outer thighs, already feeling the familiar sensation of his claws protracting as his entire body tensed, his vision whited out as he lost all sense of being. "Fuck!" His fingers dug into your skin, the tips turning white from the strain as he held you in place, his arms like steel around you as he rode out his orgasm, the added intensity of his claws keeping you from moving as his hot seed spilled deep inside you, filling you up.

"Mine," he growled possessively, his voice shaking with exertion and emotion. "You're fucking mine, always."

"Yours," you said breathlessly as you rested your head against his shoulder while your arms wrapped around his chest.

Logan's arms slowly relaxed while his claws retracted, and he gently unraveled your legs from his waist, letting your feet find the floor once more. He pressed soft, lingering kisses to your neck and shoulders, kissing over the dark-colored bruises and hickeys he left along your neck and collarbone, then rested his head back on your shoulder as he slumped over.

“‘M sorry, dunno what… came over me… that's…” He stopped and kept his head lowered.

You just laughed and wrapped your arms around his body, pulling him close as you gently rubbed his back. “Don't apologize,” you cooed softly. “You’re just worked up.”

“No, it’s… not just that, it’s somethin’ else. I get… in these moods, like,” he groaned and shook his head slightly, already feeling the embarrassment flooding his face. “Like animals in mating season; territorial, possessive. Can’t help it sometimes and your smells drive me insane.”

That was it, that’s why he’d been acting weirdly jealous, clingy, and just wanting to be closer. “Oh, oh!” you said softly as you looked down at him, smiling even wider now. He shared a new part of himself with you, something he found awkward to speak about, and he opened up. You brushed his hair gently, running your fingers through it as you couldn’t hide your smile. “Why didn’t you say so?”

He lifted his head slowly to look up at you. “You’re not… freaked out by it?” He asked, his brows furrowed together.

You just chuckled in response. “No, of course not, why would I be?” You continued to run your hand across his hair, comforting him to the best of your abilities. “Logan, when I said I accepted you, that was all of you,” you explained.

This took him off guard, surprised him even, but your words had made his stomach stir, and he couldn’t stop from grabbing you and pulling you against him. You melted in his grasp, smiling wide as you wrapped your arms around him, showing him you were here for him. All of him. Logan didn’t have to say anything, he wasn’t a man of words, more of action, so when you wouldn’t pull away from him in moments like these, it showed that you were a woman of action, too.

His arms wrapped even tighter around you, his chest still heaving slightly as his breath slowly returned, and he couldn’t help but nuzzle into the crook of your neck. “You’re really okay with it?” He asked again.

“Ssh, Logan, just accept that I might actually like it when you get possessive,” you said playfully, planting a kiss on the side of his head.

Logan smiled softly, nuzzling your neck as the urge to mark you washed over him once again, his mouth opened slightly while his tongue gently darted out to slide across your throat. “Good,” he mumbled against your skin. “Then you won’t mind if we take this to the room,” he added, looking up at you with that primal hunger gleaming in his eyes once again.

“I don’t mind at all, especially since it’s you.”

321 notes · View notes

lilacmingi · 3 months ago

Text

CRUELLA DE VIL (DISNEY VILLAINS AU)

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works. NO SPAM-LIKING PLEASE

Pairing: Cruella!San x boutique owner!fem reader (ft business partner!Hongjoong)

Word count: 6,745

Note: Okay this one might be my fave out of the whole series!! So many people loved it on Wattpad and I personally am really proud of this one to this day!!

The new window display looked incredible. You had stayed after closing the previous night to put it up in hopes that it would attract some new customers. Not just that, but you wanted to show off the jacket you worked so hard to reform.

You went in to make a few minor adjustments before opening for the day. As you were straightening up the outfit on the mannequin, your coworker and business partner, Hongjoong, walked in adjusting his beret.

Today's ensemble consisted of a white t-shirt with safety pins all over it, thick, black suspenders clipped onto a pair of black pants with a partial red, plaid pleated skirt attached to it—he's always dressing in the most wonderfully unique outfits.

"Morning." You greeted, stepping out of the window display. "You're looking fashionable, as usual."

"Thank you." He grinned, doing a little spin so you could see a full 360 view of the outfit. "I'm experimenting with something different."

"You mean the skirt attached to the pants?"

"Yeah. I think it looks cool, don't you?"

"Yes! I love it. We might be able to sell something like that, hm?" You grinned, raising a brow.

"If the people want it, I'll be more than happy to make more." He said. "Oh, here's your coffee, by the way."

"Ah." You placed your hand on your chest. "You're a doll. Thank you."

"You're welcome." He nodded, heading to the back.

Seconds later, music started playing through the speakers in the store, your lips curling into a pleased smile.

You and Hongjoong shared a similar music taste and you'd both curated the perfect playlist for the store. It's a mix of alternative rock, indie, and a touch of classic rock and indie pop—which was fit for your motley boutique.

The two of you had been friends since college. You both majored in business and shared a love for reforming clothes. It wasn't long until you started making plans for a business. You made a deal to go in together, save the money, and start up your own boutique, and as of one year ago, you did. It was a brilliant idea that blossomed into what it is today.

Yours and Hongjoong's business is located

in one of the fashion capitals of the world—London. You both specialize in thrifting and reforming. The two of you check out local thrift shops and buy pieces to cut up and put back together to make something unique. You can't find clothes like yours and Hongjoong's anywhere else.

"So, I stopped at a couple secondhand shops on my way here. I hope you don't mind."

"Of course I don't. What did you find? Anything good?"

"Well, I found this scarf." He spoke, pulling the accessory from a shopping bag. "The print is unique. I thought maybe we could cut up uneven chunks of the fabric and sew them on a jacket or something."

"Ooh." You nodded, envisioning the piece. "I like that. What else?"

"These dainty little chains and these boots."

"Let me guess. Attach the chains to the boots to make them edgy?" You guessed.

"Yes! This is why we're business partners." He grinned. "I'm gonna go put this stuff in the back with the other pieces."

You hummed in acknowledgement and took a sip of coffee, the sweet taste coating your tastebuds, a slightly bitter aftertaste following.

"Please help get me through the day." You spoke to the beverage as you plopped down behind the register.

Hongjoong emerged from the back room, smoothing out his shirt.

"That window display looks nice."

"Thank you. I did stay late last night to get it set up." You grinned, proudly. "I hope it attracts some new customers."

"It will. It looks fantastic. No other storefronts look like ours." Hongjoong assured you, his eyes trailing off to the dog bed behind the counter, your pet Dalmatian curled up asleep inside.

"I didn't even know Valentino was here." He commented.

"Yeah. He's tired today. He's been sleeping ever since I got here."

"Hey. If that window display doesn't attract new customers, Valentino will."

"Yeah, he's a favorite among our usual customers."

"Speaking of customers." Hongjoong pointed towards the front entrance.

Someone was standing outside in front of the display window, you couldn't see them too well from where you were sitting, though.

"I'm gonna go work on those boots. Just call me if you need me."

"Sure." You nodded, watching Hongjoong disappear behind the beaded curtain separating the front of the store from the back.

You stayed sitting behind the register, assuming the person outside was just perusing and most likely wouldn't come inside.

Just then, the door to the boutique opened, catching your attention. You turned your head and watched as a man with unique half black and half white hair strode into the store. He wore pinstripe pants and a white dress shirt unbuttoned at the top, a tight corset cinched around his waist. On top of the entire ensemble was a cream-colored fur coat draped over his shoulders. His entire appearance practically screamed high fashion and you were left speechless as you stared at this incredibly well-dressed man.

"What's that in the display window?" He asked, pointing with his cane.

"A jacket."

"I know what it is. I'm not stupid. I want to know who made it."

"I did." You answered.

"It's wonderful."

"Thank you." You were surprised to hear this man's praise. "Would you like to see it up close?"

"What kind of question is that?"

You stepped onto the platform in the display window and removed the jacket, bringing it to your new and eccentric customer.

He held it up, examining it, running his gloved fingers over the embellishments on it.

When you first got a hold of it, it was a measly little leather jacket with a couple holes in it, but now it looked like something completely new. You put a couple patches printed to look like newspapers on the jacket to cover the holes and added hundreds of studs and chains to it. To top it off, the word rebel was hand-painted on the back in sharp, white letters.

"I'll take it." The customer finally spoke.

"That's wonderful. Let me ring you up."

He followed you to the register where he paid for the jacket.

At this point, Valentino had gotten out of his bed and wandered around the counter.

"What a cute dog." He commented.

"Thank you. His name is Valentino."

"Like the fashion designer."

"The very same."

"Hm." The man gave a hum of what seemed like approval.

"You know, I just put that jacket out last night. You're the first one to show interest in it."

"What can I say? I have an eye for fashion." He grinned.

"I'd say you do. Your outfit is incredible."

"Oh, this?" He questioned as if it were nothing. "I just threw this together."

Your brows raised at his nonchalance.

"Well, darling, thank you for the jacket." He gave you a wink, retrieving the clothing from the counter. "Perhaps I'll see you around."

You blinked a few times as you watched him stride away, your cheeks feeling slightly warm at the nickname darling.

"Wait." You called out.

The man turned to glance over his shoulder.

"What's your name?"

"San. Don't wear it out, dear."

Just then, Hongjoong emerged from the back seeing San leave the store. The door closed and Hongjoong turned to look at you in your flustered state.

"Who was that?"

"San."

"San who?"

"I don't know, but he was beautiful."

Hongjoong let out a snort. "You're drooling."

You brought your hand up to your mouth, not feeling a thing.

"Am not."

"You were about to."

You rolled your eyes, choosing not to argue back.

A few days passed and all you could think about was the fashionable San. He was only in your store for about five minutes, but he made quite an impression on you, capturing your attention as soon as he stepped into your establishment.

A customer had just purchased a pair of pants with a partial skirt attached to it. Hongjoong only made one tester pair just to see if anyone would buy it.

"Looks like you need to make more of those pants." You commented.

"Looks like I do." Hongjoong smiled.

Your eyes widened as you saw San walking past the storefront, his eyes landing on the new display you set up.

"Oh my gosh." You stood from your seat behind the register.

"What?"

"There he is!" You whispered, pointing to the window.

"That San guy from a few days ago?" Hongjoong asked.

"Yes."

"He came back? That must mean he loved what he bought."

Your cheeks became warm thinking about San loving the jacket so much that he came back.

The door opened and in walked the highly fashionable man from the other day. Today he wore a black and white striped shirt with a long, black trench coat over the top. The pants he wore were the same color as his jacket and were cropped above his ankles, showing off his shiny dress shoes with pointed, metallic-capped tips.

"Hello." Hongjoong greeted as he approached San.

"Hello." San responded as he passed Hongjoong, walking straight to you. "Y/n, my dear."

He took your hand, giving a kiss to the back of it. "It's a pleasure to see you again."

"Yeah. It's a surprise to see you." You managed to say.

A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he let go of your hand. "You're surprised I came back?"

"Well, yes."

"I wanted to see what else you've got. Hopefully it's as good as that jacket."

"Ah, well, feel free to look around." You gestured to the endless racks of clothes. "We have plenty more items like that."

San turned towards all the clothes and began perusing the store.

You watched as he strode around, his fingers running over the fabric of the clothes hanging up. Every so often, he would pull a piece of clothing off the rack, examining the garment and rubbing the fabric between his fingers. If he found something he liked, he would take it off the rack and toss it over his arm.

"I must admit, I'm impressed." San spoke up.

"Thank you. I can't take all the credit, though. Hongjoong designs a lot of these pieces as well." You spoke up.

"You're both incredibly talented." San praised. "What about this?" He retrieved a pair of pants from the rack.

You remember the trousers well, Hongjoong designed them. He took two different pairs of pants and cut them in half, one black pair, the other red plaid. He sewed them together and clipped a wallet chain onto the belt loops.

"I made those." Hongjoong spoke up.

"Incredible." San murmured. "I'll take these. I have just the right top to pair with them."

Hongjoong offered to ring up the items San had collected while you made yourself busy rearranging a jewelry display.

Once San had paid for his items, he headed towards the door, briefly coming to a stop beside you.

"Keep doing what you're doing, love. There aren't many people who possess the talent you and your business partner have."

"Thank you." You told him.

"Don't mention it." He waved his hand dismissively as he headed towards the door. "Au revoir." (goodbye in French)

Again, you were left speechless and absolutely awestruck.

"He's amazing."

San continued to stop by the boutique over the next couple weeks, always looking for new finds and wanting to know the latest piece of clothing that had been reformed. He even showed interest in Hongjoong's pants with the half skirt attached to it and requested a custom pair of his own. He was practically a regular customer at this point.

Each time he popped into the store, he wore yet another incredible outfit that left you mind blown. He was the most fashionable person you had met—besides Hongjoong, of course.

"You know San?" You asked.

"The one you always ogle at?" Hongjoong asked.

"I do not—" He gave you a look, making you stop mid-sentence. "Yes. That one."

"What about him?"

"Do you think he lives around here?"

"I don't know. Why do you ask?"

"We should hire him."

"What?"

"His style is incredible. We could use someone like him on our staff."

"Hm." Hongjoong hummed. "It's not a bad idea."

The mail slot in the front door opens as today's newspaper falls to the floor. Your dog, Valentino got up to retrieve it, carrying it over to you.

"Ah, the paper. Thank you, Valentino." You thanked your Dalmatian, taking the newspaper from him.

You unrolled the paper, pausing when you saw a photo of a familiar-looking man printed on the front page.

Plastered on the front page of the newspaper was a photo of San, and he was wearing your jacket. The cover read: RENOWNED SOUTH KOREAN FASHION DESIGNER CHOI SAN AT LONDON'S FASHION WEEK.

Your jaw dropped in disbelief.

"Hongjoong?" You called out.

Your partner came hurrying over.

"What's wrong? What is it?"

"Look." You showed him the front page.

Hongjoong's eyes widened, his mouth hanging open.

"He's a fashion designer?" He exclaimed in disbelief.

"Apparently so. A renowned fashion designer too."

"I can't believe this. Do you know what that means?" Hongjoong asked.

"We had a popular fashion designer stop by our shop!"

"Exactly! Do you think he told his famous fashion designer friends about us?" He inquired excitedly.

"I don't know. Let's read the article."

South Korean fashion designer Choi San has graced London with his presence, traveling to the bustling city for London Fashion Week. He's been seen around the city wearing some eye-catching outfits that have people talking.

Choi San is known for his uniquely original and out-of-the-box designs. Fans and designers alike are all anticipating what he has in store.

"Wow." You gaped. "I'm speechless."

"Do you think those eye-catching outfits consisted of anything he bought from this store?" Inquired Hongjoong.

"I sure hope so."

You were dying for San to return to the boutique. You wanted so badly to talk to him about the new information you found out.

It was a couple days before he returned.

Those were the longest two days of your life.

One overcast day, he came striding into the boutique, graceful and elegant as ever.

"Hello." He greeted before perusing the items, acting as if he wasn't hiding a huge secret.

"You're a renowned fashion designer?!" You shrieked.

"Of course, doll." He responded, casually as his fingertips trailed over a pair of handmade earrings on display.

"And you didn't say anything?"

"You didn't know?" He asked, raising a brow.

"No. I saw you in the paper the other day."

"Well, I don't fault you for that. I'm fairly new in the fashion scene. A virtuoso, they call me. Can you believe that?" He chuckled. "It's rather flattering."

"I can't believe a famous fashion designer has been visiting our little boutique. I had no idea."

"Don't let it get to you, dear." He chuckled. "My status shouldn't change the relationship between us."

"R-relationship?" You blushed.

"Yes?" He said it like a question. "We're friends, are we not?"

"Yes! Friends. Of course. Yeah." You chuckled nervously.

That was awkward.

Hongjoong emerged from the back room with a newly reformed piece of clothing, a measuring tape draped around his neck.

"Ah! Just the man I wanted to see." He smiled. "What do you think?"

Hongjoong held up a black coat that had been completely redone. It was embellished with silver swirls and had epaulettes added onto the shoulders.

"Wow." San gaped. "I love everything about it. How much?"

Hongjoong gave him the price he was considering for the garment and San immediately bought it.

"I'll probably stop by within the next few days." He told the both of you.

"That's fine. You're welcome any time. Even if we're closed." Hongjoong smiled.

"Good to know." San tossed his shopping bag over his shoulder. "Until next time." He waved, striding out of the shop.

San returned to your store just a few days later, a large bag tossed over his shoulder.

He strode into the boutique, dropping the sack onto the floor. You furrowed your brows at him.

"Well, don't just stand there. Have a look." He gestured.

You opened the bag and began digging through it, gasping as you pulled out multiple pieces of designer clothes.

"What are you doing? This is thousands of dollars worth of your clothing."

"Right. I want you to tear it up."

"I'm sorry?"

"What you do here. Thrifting clothes. Tearing them apart and putting them back together. I'm having a show, that's why I'm here in London. I'd like to do a small showcase during my show."

"So you're talking about a collaboration? Your clothes, our style?" You questioned.

"That's exactly what I'm talking about, love."

"We would love to."

"I'd like to watch you work if you don't mind. I can assist you, of course. I would just need a station with a sewing machine."

"Don't worry. We have an extra in the back." Hongjoong chimed in. "We can definitely work something out."

"Fabulous." San grinned. "Let's get to work, shall we?"

Later that evening when the store closed, the three of you gathered in the back room where all of the sorting and reassembling took place. You and Hongjoong would examine each piece San brought in, making plans and sketches, discussing how you would upcycle it. With each piece came a story from San about how he came up with the idea for the garment. You enjoyed hearing him talk about his thought process, hanging on to every word. You took it as an opportunity to learn a bit from the fashion genius.

After examining each piece of clothing, the three of you got to work. You and Hongjoong would cut up clothes while San laid them out on a table and pieced them together, following the sketches the two of you provided. Naturally, you and your business partner had music playing to help keep everyone motivated. Though, sometimes you'd get distracted, prancing around the room and dancing.

Unbeknownst to you, San was watching and admiring you as you goofed off. To see you so carefree while doing what you love made his heart swell.

A couple hours passed and the three of you had gotten a considerable amount of work done. You cut up about half of the clothes San brought to you and laid them out with pieces of other garments of San's that you'd planned to turn into one piece.

Once you had a few pieces laid out, you and San began to sew them together while Hongjoong continued to disassemble any remaining garments in the bag.

At some point, Hongjoong let out a huff, stretching his back.

"I could use something to eat. Is anyone else hungry?"

"Starving." You responded.

Hongjoong glanced at his watch.

"It's only 7:00 PM. I can go and pick something up."

"Sounds good. San and I can stay here and keep working."

"Perfect. What's everyone in the mood for?"

You and San shared a look before you spoke up.

"Pizza?"

You then looked to San for approval, worried that he would turn the idea down and suggest some lavish meal.

"It's a classic. You can't go wrong with pizza." He responded.

"Great." Hongjoong clasped his hands together. "I'll be back soon."

Your partner left the room, the sound of the front entrance closing behind him following shortly after. You paid no mind to it as you worked, sewing the lower half of a red plaid shirt onto the bottom of a cropped, leather jacket.

"So, Y/n, how long have you been into fashion?" San inquired.

"Since I was a kid. I'd get into my parents' closet and take their clothes." You chuckled. "I remember one time I took my dad's suit jacket and tied one of my mom's scarves around the waist. Then, I got a hold of her red heels and put them on. The outfit was horrendous and I was far too little for any of the clothes, but it was so much fun."

A soft smile made its way onto San's face as he pictured a tiny you prancing around in a large jacket and heels.

"I used to draw pictures of outfits too. Most of the drawings were of dresses. I'm talking pages upon pages."

"Did you ever create any of those drawings?"

"Goodness no." You chuckled. "When I got older and learned how to use a sewing machine, my taste had changed quite a bit."

San listened to you talk about how your love for fashion progressed as well as how you and Hongjoong met and started your business together.

"That's quite a story."

"Yeah, it is." You hummed. "Not everyone is lucky enough to have their plans work out like mine and Hongjoong's."

"I'd say you're both very lucky."

Valentino, who had been napping walked up to you, resting his head in your lap. You stopped what you were doing to give him a few soft pets accompanied by ear scratches. His tail wagged happily in response. When you stopped, he lifted his paw, placing it on the side of your thigh as a way to tell you to keep going.

"Alright." You chuckled. "But only for a little while. Mama's got work to do."

San watched you with adoration, his heart thumping heavily in his chest.

"How did you get Valentino?" He asked.

"I actually found him roaming the streets. I was headed here when I spotted him. I felt so bad. He was only a little guy at the time. I brought him into the store and gave him part of the sandwich I packed for lunch. Hongjoong was surprised to see me come in with a dog, but he didn't mind. I decided that day that I would keep him." You gave the Dalmatian a fond look as you stroked his ears. "While I was working, he wandered in the back room. I later found him sleeping on a Valentino shirt Hongjoong thrifted. That's how I decided to name him."

"He's lucky to have you." San smiled.

"I think I'm the lucky one."

It wasn't long before Hongjoong returned with a couple pizzas and some drinks. The three of you took a twenty minute break to eat and rest before getting back to work. When midnight rolled around, you decided to call it a night. The three of you agreeing to close up shop and head home, promising to pick up again the next day.

You continued to meet up for a week, working tirelessly on the clothes. San and Hongjoong stayed in the back room sewing while you worked the store. When you weren't running the boutique, you were in the back helping San, switching out with Hongjoong.

It took two weeks for every piece to be completed. Once finished, each item of clothing was placed on a hanger and put in a garment bag, provided by San, then put inside a van.

"Thank you so much, darling." San beamed, flashing a bright smile accompanied by the most charming dimples. "The two of you have done marvelous work."

"It was an honor." You told him.

"It really was. To work with someone like you has been such an awesome experience." Hongjoong agreed.

"It's been wonderful working with the both of you." San approached Hongjoong, giving him a brief cheek-to-cheek air kiss.

He then moved over, doing the same to you, except he actually kissed your cheeks.

"I'll see you around." He smirked, giving you a wink before hopping into the van and driving off.

You stood with your mouth open, your cheeks burning from San's sudden kisses.

"He just..." You trailed off, your hands cupping your burning cheeks.

Hongjoong stood off to the side, unable to hold back giggles as he watched you in your flustered state, having witnessed the exchange.

"Y/n! The paper's here!" Hongjoong called. "And San is on the cover again!"

You rushed out of the back room, excitedly.

"Let's see what it says."

Hongjoong laid the paper out on the counter so the both of you could read it. The front page was plastered with photos of San wearing clothes that he bought from the boutique. Your eyes traveled from the photos to the article as you began to read it.

Choi San is set to have a fashion show this weekend where he will showcase his most recent designs. The fashion genius has been spotted walking the streets of London wearing an incredible ensemble from his new fashion line. Critics have been raving over the pieces he's been seen wearing around the city. When asked for any clues about his upcoming line, this was his response.

"Well, I can't reveal much about my designs, but the theme for the show will be 'The Next Generation of Fashion'. So stay tuned, darlings." The designer said.

"What?" You frowned. "His designs?"

"That can't be right." Hongjoong murmured.

His eyes scanned over the article, a frown on his face.

"He didn't say that, did he?"

"It says it right there, plain as day." You pointed. "I can't reveal much about my designs. Not only that, but it says he's been wearing his designs around the city. The clothes he's wearing in the photos is our stuff from the shop."

Hongjoong shook his head in response, unable to believe that San would do that.

"I have to talk with him." You murmured.

"It looks like you'll get your chance."

The door swung open and in walked Choi San, happy as ever.

"Hello, loves." He greeted, striding towards the register.

Hongjoong, who knew what was going to happen, quickly made himself scarce.

Your jaw clenched as he approached you with an arrogant grin that you wanted so badly to slap off his face. You snatched up the newspaper and slammed it onto the counter.

"Care to explain?"

The designer's brows furrowed as he looked down at the front page. "I don't understand."

"The article, San. You totally took credit for mine and Hongjoong's work."

"No, I didn't."

"It says so right here." You pointed.

He leaned down to get a better look at the paper.

"I can't believe I thought you wanted to work with me." You scoffed, shaking your head. "Just go."

San merely turned around and left the boutique without another word.

A huff left you as you spun around, storming into the back room.

"What happened?" Hongjoong inquired.

"I told him to leave."

"He didn't say anything?"

"No."

Valentino trotted in a few moments later with an envelope in his mouth.

"What's that?" Asked Hongjoong.

"I don't know. He already got the mail."

You took the lavish, cream-colored envelope from him, opening it up.

Inside was a card with two tickets to the fashion show. The card had a short note written in neat handwriting:

You've worked hard. Enjoy the show.

- San

"It's tickets to San's fashion show." You scoffed.

"He sent us tickets?" Hongjoong rushed over, peering over your shoulder.

"I guess that's what he came here to do." You assumed.

"Y/n, you need to go." He told you.

"What? No. There's no way. Not after what he did to us."

"I know you're upset that he used us, but I want to go to the show, you should too. The least we can do is show up and see our designs on the runway."

To your disappointment, he had a point. It would be nice to be able to see the clothes you and Hongjoong worked so hard to create.

You walked into the event, loud music blaring throughout the large room. You felt like your whole body was trembling. You didn't want to be there.

"You look great." Hongjoong assured you.

"That's not what I'm worried about."

"It'll be fine, Y/n. Despite what he did, I think he wanted us to be here."

"I can't understand why."

The two of you made your way to a row of seats. Hongjoong stopped suddenly, nudging you.

"Look." He pointed to the first row of seats, each one with a card on them. There were two chairs beside each other, one had a card with Hongjoong's name on it, the other with yours. You were a bit surprised to see that you had reserved seats, especially after what happened just a few days prior.

"C'mon." Hongjoong beckoned you over to your chairs.

After sitting down, you held the name card in your hand, flipping it back and forth. On the cardstock was your name printed in beautiful gold letters, a decorative box framing the print.

The show began shortly after, rock music playing through the speakers in the building as the lights started to dim. A silence settled over the room as everyone focused on the bright catwalk. A voice came over the speakers, kicking off the show.

"Welcome to the next generation of fashion."

Models began striding down the runway, each one donning an outfit you had never seen. You knew immediately that these were San's designs. Though you want very happy with him at the moment you had to admit, his designs were impeccable—they were nothing like you'd ever seen before. It was hard not to be impressed by his incredible work. He truly was a virtuoso.

Halfway through the show, that same voice came over the speakers once again.

"And now, for a special showcase."

Your eyes widened in awe as you watched the models strut down the catwalk wearing designs that you and Hongjoong created. It was like a dream come true. You just wished the circumstances were better. Though your situation wasn't the greatest, you didn't let that put a damper on your excitement.

The both of you watched with awestruck expressions as the models sashayed down the runway, showing off the upcycled pieces of San's previous fashion lines. The models looked incredible, as did their hair and makeup. Every single one had a different look and managed to match the vibe of each ensemble.

"Wow." You gaped.

"Yeah." Hongjoong nodded, his wide eyes staring unblinking at the models.

The last few models made their way off stage, signaling the end of the showcase. You knew what would happen next.

Your chest tightened when San walked up on stage. The crowd clapped and cheered as he made his way to the front of the catwalk.

His black and white hair was pushed away from his face in a messy, yet tidy way that perfectly suited him. His ensemble consisted of a white dress shirt that was unbuttoned halfway, showing off a silver body chain. The shirt was tucked into a pair of black, high-waisted trousers with two rows of buttons on the front and a chain dangling from the waist. He had on a large, spotted fur coat that resembled a Dalmatian, and bold, red gloves with many silver rings on top. The coat was long and swayed behind him as he stepped forward.

"Good evening, everyone." He greeted, scanning the crowd.

You unconsciously pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, afraid of being noticed.

"I hope you all enjoyed the show. First of all, I want to thank every single one of you for coming tonight. I appreciate your support dearly."

The crowd clapped in response.

"The showcase you all just watched was extra special. You might have noticed some familiar elements in each outfit, those elements being my old designs. Each one has gotten a new life, being turned into something different." He explained.

There were a few oohs from the crowd.

"I can't take all the credit for the end result you all saw moments ago. Yes, these may be my clothes, but they were truly brought to life by the amazing people who run a small boutique in town and I have to give all the credit to them. I was only a small part of this." He admitted. "Contrary to what the papers have been saying, all the fashion I've been wearing during my time here has been created by them. The pieces I wore were purchased at their boutique, it was not me giving anyone a sneak peek at what would be showcased tonight. You should all know, I hate giving spoilers."

Your lips pressed together as you felt shame and embarrassment flood your entire body.

"Now, I would like to introduce you all to the two incredibly talented fashionistas who re-created the stunning looks you just saw. Hongjoong and Y/n, will you come up here?" San turned right towards the both of you, your cheeks being set aflame.

Hongjoong nudged you as he stood up, heading onto the catwalk with you nervously following behind.

"Everyone please give these two a rousing applause!"

The whole room erupted in claps and cheers for you and Hongjoong. You were overwhelmed. You got to see your designs displayed on the runway and you were receiving a literal standing ovation from a room full of fashion designers and other luminaries. To top it all off, San was being genuine the entire time. Of course, you totally made a fool out of yourself and snapped at him without bothering to hear him out, and for that you needed to apologize.

San thanked everyone and gave a shoutout to yours and Hongjoong's boutique before closing out the show.

"There's going to be an after party in the next room, so please feel free to stay and hang out."

And with that, the show was over and the after party began. Everyone started getting up from their seats, making their way to the next room as you, San, and Hongjoong exited the catwalk, going backstage.

"Thank you, San. The showcase was incredible." Hongjoong told him.

"I should be thanking you. Tonight was a success and that's because of you two."

You smiled a little, guilt weighing on your heart.

"Well, I believe you two need some time alone, so I'm going to the after party. I'll see you later." Hongjoong quickly excused himself, allowing you and San some privacy.

"San, I'm so terribly sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. I was really hateful to you that day." You apologized immediately.

"It's alright." He shook his head with a soft smile. "Don't worry yourself."

"I didn't know the tabloids messed up"

"Well, they did. I read the paper when I got home that day and found that they misquoted me. I never said my designs. I said the designs. They also jumped to conclusions big time and assumed the pieces from your store were my designs. I'd say I can't believe they did that, but honestly, that's how they are." He rolled his eyes. "Magazines, newspapers, websites. They're practically known for mincing people's words. How embarrassing."

"My apology still stands. I should have let you explain."

"I told you not to worry." San brought a gloved finger up under your chin, lifting your face to look at him. "You don't have to apologize."

"Alright." You sighed.

He dropped his hand, giving you a warm smile.

"So, what did you think about the show? Honestly."

"It was incredible. I was blown away by your designs and the ones Hongjoong and I worked on looked great too. It was honestly a dream come true. And that was nice of you to give our shop a shoutout at the end."

"You both deserve it." He smiled softly.

"Your outfit tonight is incredible. I especially love the coat."

"Thank you, doll. It's a tribute."

"A tribute?"

"To you. It reminded me of your dear Valentino so I wanted to wear it tonight."

You didn't hold back the flattered grin that spread across your features.

He did that for you?

"Now, let's talk about this ensemble you have on. You look absolutely divine." He told you.

Your eyes widened. "You think so?"

"I know so. Let me have a look at this." He glanced at your outfit, stepping back and allowing you to show him the full look.

You chose a flattering, yet chic ensemble; a bit edgy like what you and Hongjoong reform, but classy enough for a fashion show.

"Oh my." San gasped. "My dear Y/n, you are absolutely stunning."

You tried to stay cool, but San's compliments were getting to you, making your whole body feel like it was going to collapse.

"Love, can I tell you something?" He suddenly asked, his hand reaching for yours.

You allowed him to take it as he pulled you closer.

"Yes. Of course."

"You've captivated me, my dear Y/n. I treasure that night we shared in the back room of your shop. I enjoyed learning more about you and your love for fashion."

That brought a smile to your face.

"I enjoyed that night too, and every night after that when we worked on clothes."

"I'm glad the feeling is mutual." He smiled, his thumb running over the top of your hand.

You could tell there was something he wasn't saying or something he wanted to say, rather.

"We made a great team. Perhaps we should make this duo permanent."

"What are you trying to say?" You inquired.

"I'm saying, I want you to be my girlfriend."

You tried to hold back your smile as you looked at him.

"What if I don't feel the same?" You asked.

"Darling, I know when people are staring at me."

"What?"

"I saw you gawking at me all those times I came into your boutique."

"Oh." You became flustered. "So you noticed."

"Don't be embarrassed, darling. I quite liked it. Attention from the public is nice, but attention from you is even better."

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, your heart racing.

"So, what do you say? You want to make this official?"

"Yes, please."

San was unable to contain himself as a glowing grin spread across his face, his dimples making an appearance. His hand let go of yours, moving to rest against your waist, tugging your body closer. You knew what he was getting around to and you were more than okay with it. His gloved hand cupped your cheek as his sharp, half-lidded eyes darkened slightly, his face inching closer to yours.

"Just kiss me already." You urged, desperate to feel his lips.

"What's the magic word?" He whispered.

Unable to wait any longer, you grabbed the body chain that hung over his chest, using it to pull him to you, your lips crashing against his. The unexpected action caught San off guard, but he didn't mind. In fact, he thought that was very attractive.

His hand immediately moved from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you closer so he could deepen the kiss.

"A girl who knows what she wants. I like that." He smirked against your mouth before capturing your lips fully with his own. You clung to him desperately, your hands clenching the fabric of his shirt as your head tilted slightly, wanting to feel closer to San.

A hum of satisfaction from San vibrated against your lips, sending a rush of butterflies through your stomach. His hand that was resting on your waist made its way to the small of your back, holding you firmly against him.

As much as you hated to, you pulled away in need of air. San stared down at you with flushed cheeks and swollen lips, his eyes droopy. His hair had become slightly out of place, a few extra strands hanging over his forehead. You casually brought your hand up to his uniquely-colored hair, gently running your hand over it, careful not to mess it up.

"I've always been fascinated with your hair." You admitted.

"Really?"

You hummed with a nod.

"I used to color it when I was a kid. I felt that I stood out too much."

"You know, sometimes standing out is a good thing."

He smiled, cupping your cheek. "That's exactly right, my dear."

The designer placed one last kiss to your lips before escorting you back out to the main room.

"Now, what do you say we go to that after party?"

"Sounds good." You nodded.

Hongjoong: Hades ⟡ Seonghwa: Maleficent ⟡ Yunho: Captain Hook ⟡ Yeosang: Evil Queen ⟡ Mingi: Dr. Facilier ⟡ Wooyoung: Hyena ⟡ Jongho: Gaston

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