#I just said what felt right and I guess it was!!!

[wild-jackalope]

First time having sex is awkward!

pairing :: Virgin!Megumi x Virgin!Reader

warning :: college/university AU, awkward sex, safe sex (finally), lingerie stuff, fingering, slight overstim, very soft, would you hate me if I said this wasn’t rly proof read, need this out of my drafts asap

note :: very inspired by @sonotpattismith fic Hold Me And Explore Me, here’s the link!

For the years you’ve been friends with Megumi you’ve never ever known him to discuss a single intimate topic. For the five months you’ve been in a relationship with him, that fact never changed.

Megumi was a prude, basically.

It wasn’t as though you were one to spill secrets about your personal moments either. Occasionally you’d let the odd story slip when drunk (mainly letting loose some poor experiences being felt up during your younger years of dating), but other than that, you kept your mouth shut.

So when Maki asked you a completely out of pocket question, both you and your boyfriend turned to ice.

“Have the two of you even fucked yet?”

No. Of course you haven’t. You hadn’t even come close! Despite the air being thickened by everyone’s collective drunkenness, you felt a small part of you would resent Maki for the rest of your life after putting you in this situation.

Your jaw slacked open and you took in a breath. The truth lilting on the tip of your tongue.

“Don’t ask personal questions like that.” Megumi cut, to everyone’s collective disappointment, they groaned. Somewhat tipsy himself, Megumi still had the clarity to get the others off your scent and thankfully his harsh words had sent them on another chatting spree devoid of your sex life.

Maki, keen gaze still locked on both you and Megumi, muttered a swift. “Guess you haven’t put that set to use, huh.” Before taking a sip of her vodka mix.

You flushed immediately, embarrassment mixing with the warm alcohol in your bloodstream, coating your cheeks a deep plum colour. Mortification filling your wide eyes, you glanced at Megumi who held an unbothered expression, one of boredom and calm.

But for a split second, his dark blues swiped over you and you caught the slightest hint of curiosity in his narrow gaze. What set?

You snapped your head forward, neck aching from the whiplash.

The ‘set’ Maki was referring to, was bought during a shopping trip Nobara invited both of you to. She needed a refill on her skincare items, Maki needed a new set of sports bras and you needed an excuse to leave your dorm room.

Maki’s chosen store was the closest, so the three of you headed there first. Inside, your eyes caught on the walls covered with expensive underwear made of lace and silk hanging on thin mannequins.

“I should get a new bra, too, my favourites are getting worn out.” Nobara mumbled, looking at the odd racks assembled by colour and size.

A particularly captivating bodysuit grabbed your attention; a smooth ivory piece decorated with straps and shining gemstones, having tuffs of silk peak out of the sides like a skirt and wings. The shiny fabric called to rest comfortably against your skin. It was the most expensive, being shown off at the front of the store to lure young women who wanted to wrap their pretty bodies and show off to their boyfriends. Just like you.

“That one’s too cutesy.” Nobara uttered, following your tranced gaze. “Lingerie is a scam anyway, truth is men don’t even care. They just take it off.”

That was right, Nobara had had sex. Unlike you.

“Would you… help me pick something nice out?” You asked, a gentle and shy invitation.

Despite her previous slander of lingerie, her cheeks glowed in excitement. “Sure. For you and Fushiguro, right?”

“I guess so.” You kindly but nervously replied. Nobara lead you deeper into the store, coming to a back wall with more designs, all notably darker with plenty more lace.

She gazed over the options. “What do you usually like to wear?” She asked.

“I don’t know— nothing?” You responded, awkward hand lifting to fiddle with a purple bralet.

Nobara side eyed you, giving a suspicious look before she asked— much too casually. “First time?”

“Yes.” You nodded, the fabric of the bralet suddenly becoming very interesting!

“First time with Fushiguro, or?” Her trail lilted delicately, hopefully displaying herself as a safe person to spill your secrets to.

“First, first time.” You uttered quietly.

In a quick swish, Nobara grabbed your shoulders and pulled you to her. “Seriously?” She asked.

“Yes, seriously. Is it hard to believe?” You frowned, too mortified for her questioning.

She nodded. “Yes! You’re a total catch.”

“Well, it’s not like I’ve never done anything.” You added, hands defensively rising to your chest. “I’ve been in relationships before, I’ve—” you lowered your voice. “I’ve fooled around.”

“Oh I bet you have.” She added, grin replacing her surprised gape.

“Stop it, you’re so embarrassing.” You pushed against her shoulder, freeing yourself from her death grip.

“Okay, first set, first set.” Mind now back to the mission, she returned to the racks of bras and thongs. “You should have something simple, but sexy. Black, too.”

“Why black?” Plenty of other colours filled the store.

“Fushiguro likes dark things, so he’ll like black on you.” The sensible explanation left her with a shrug.

Would that really be the case? Would Megumi look at your body being cupped by expensive black fabric and yearn for you? You could hardly imagine it. Megumi was never eager for anything, he was the type of guy to react to things with tame calmness. Would he blush? Reach to touch you? Kiss you?

Nobara handed you a neat, black matching bra and thong. “Go try this on.” She instructed, offering you an encouraging smile.

Face to face with your lewdly dressed body and flushed expression in the dressing room only made your anxiousness grow. Nobara had picked a beautiful set, a nicely patterned lace bra broken up by thick black straps pushed up your boobs, coined by a gemstone hanging off the middle. Small ripples of black sheer peaked from the supportive boning, similarly decorating the thin black straps curving around your hips holding up the lacy thong which too, had a gemstone hanging off the centre.

Fuck, Nobara had good taste.

But despite the fact you bought the matching underwear a month ago, nothing came of it. You’d worn it every single time you saw Megumi; a casual date at the park, an afternoon out at the movies, a night in lounging around. Just in case, you had thought, just in case something happens.

And because you wore them everytime you saw Megumi, they clung to your body now, at the very party Maki judged you for not having shown them off yet.

You sipped at your bitter alcohol mix, avoiding both the stares of your boyfriend and your friend. Nobara’s chanting became a welcome distraction, telling Yuji to ‘drink drink drink!’ Down his can of rum. Everyone cheered at his final gulp, including you.

Megumi, however, remained silent.

When the night came to a tired end (at about two in the morning), Megumi and yourself walked to your dorm in a sobering stumbled.

Arms around his neck, you brought Megumi into the plush bed with you, planting messy kisses along his hairline and laughing about the mischief of the night. “Itadori is going to be so hungover.” You muttered.

“Hm.” He thoughtlessly replied, craning his head so your lips made contact with his instead. He leaned over you, slowly letting his body sink into yours and sandwiching you between the bed and him.

In these moments of privacy you felt closest to Megumi. He’d unabashedly pull you in, kiss you and hold you tight.

You hummed against his lips, bringing your hands up to rake your nails through his hair, a trick you knew would immediately cause him to go soft against you, and he did, waist falling between your legs and hands twitching against your sides. He groaned softly and you wished you could record the sound and add it to a private playlist.

Chasing the mild heat in your abdomen, you furthered the kisses shared, moving into making out instead of peppery pecks. He followed you, daring to nip at your bottom lip (a habit he’d picked up from the one time you did it to him).

Your legs wrapped around his hips, pulling his warmth in closer. That shift was what made both your clothed sexes connect. Jolted by the feeling, Megumi slipped from your lips to your ear, whispering a breathy command.

“Show me your set.”

He wasn’t even quite sure what he was asking, but he had an idea, a lewd idea. He knew he needed to know what Maki was talking about, what she knew about his girlfriend that he didn’t.

You gulped, an audible squeak catching in your throat. “You really want to see?” You asked.

He nodded silently, watching your every move as you hesitantly lifted your shirt up and over your head. His narrow eyes grew wide at the sight of your tits cupped by the stunning black garment. You hid in the pillow behind you, digging half your face into the plush at his bewildered expression.

Megumi’s hand had already began moving without him thinking. In what seemed like slow motion, his large palm came to fit around your boob. His thumb rubbed over the soft lace and because of its thin fabric, you gasped as it tickled your sensitive middle.

The noise sobered Megumi from his drunk, tranced state and he pulled his hand away like it had acted on its own free will. He sat up, eyes concentrated on your flushed, messy figure. Fuck, he was so in love with you it hurt.

“I should go.” He uttered softly, pressing a curt kiss to your head.

“What? But—” You babbled something, voice cracking.

“This isn’t a good time, it’s late, you’re drunk.” He reassured your rejection with another kiss.

“You won’t stay?” You asked, leaving you as more of a plea.

“Not tonight.” He finished. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You were then left empty and cold, and despite wrapping yourself in layers of blankets, you felt as naked as ever. The question what was wrong with you? Pulling you into a drunkenly tear filled sleep.

The next morning, the barking of your third alarm pulled you from your slumber. You smacked at the screen of your phone, lifting your now throbbing head from the sweet embrace of your pillow.

Almost immediately Megumi’s rejection of you last night reminded you why your eyes were so crusty with dried tears. However, you didn’t have much time to linger on it, already being late for your morning lecture.

Lunch was when you saw Megumi next. You were reading over your papers in the yard with a furrowed brow, your phone to your ear.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” You asked.

“I mean I don’t know! You’ve know Fushiguro pretty much the same amount of time I have, why don’t you know if he’s had sex?” Nobara snapped back, voice slightly fuzzy through your phone. “Oh, let’s not forget the fact you’re also his girlfriend!”

“I know, I just— ugh. Why is this so complicated?” You huffed.

“It really isn’t, girl. You’re just making it complicated.” She added back, unfiltered judgment in her tone.

“I know, I know.” You were weak before her unwavering moral superiority.

“Talk to him. Neither of you did anything wrong, he was probably still drunk and didn’t want to show you he had whisky dick or maybe he is a virgin and was just too nervous to fuck you.” You wondered for a brief moment who Nobara was around that could hear her talk about your (lack of) sex life.

“I doubt it.” You murmured. Finally your eyes caught the tall shadow that was Megumi and you fiddle to catch your phone as it dropped from your hand. “I gotta go, he’s here. Bye!”

One hand deep in his pocket and the other carrying a bag bloated with book, Megumi walked to you, standing tall over your sitting self.

“Nobara?” He asked, head jutting towards your phone.

“Yup, she uh— just won’t stop calling me.” You breathily laughed, stupidly covering the fact you had been the one calling her nonstop.

His careful eyes surveyed you, immediately grabbing something was amiss. “Hungover?”

Lord knew you weren’t going to bring up last night if he didn’t. You’d rather let it die in the past. “I was this morning, but I’m alright now.” You offered a kind, but forced smile. “You okay?” You returned, gazing up at him.

With the baggy top you’d hurriedly put on this morning, Megumi could see past the collar, eyes catching the familiar black bra. You were so rushed this morning, you didn’t have time to change it. His heart squeezed painfully, hand twitching as it recalled the feeling of the fabric. The same hand that fucked his dick until he came thinking of you once he was alone. Fuck, he was pathetic. “I’m fine.” He gritted. Even through the drunk haze of the prior night, that memory of you below him was as clear as day in his mind.

“You’ve got baseball this afternoon, right? Do you want to come over afterwards?” You asked.

“I can, why?” So you could show him more of your gorgeous body?

“Just to hangout, n’ chat.” You added, as casually as possible. Technically you weren’t lying.

“I’ll come.” He assured. His hands lifted to touch you, but Megumi decided better, shoving it back into his pocket. “Will I see you at practice?”

“I’ll be there.” You smiled.

You’d watched Megumi play baseball since he was young, having been one of his biggest supporters (besides Gojo, of course) since you two became friends. You’d love to watch him play, sitting on a nearby bench with a book to read or your computer to finish an assignment.

Megumi had never admitted it out loud, but before each swing of his bat, he’d gaze out into the empty audience chairs to catch a glimpse of you. You were always there, always looking at him.

It never failed to make his heart swell, even after the two of you began dating, seeing you sit there just for him was the kind of loyalty that made Megumi obsessed with you.

Today, though, it seemed Megumi had more on his mind than he usually did. It was so obvious in the way he played. He was distracted.

On the walk back to your dorm, you could tell he was clearly unimpressed by himself.

Once inside, you excused yourself to the bathroom just to freshen up.

Reflecting from your mirror like a ghost haunting you, hung your cleanly washed thong. Now dry and ready to be worn. Maybe, just maybe, finally ready to be seen. The old habit still clawed you, just in case, you thought, just in case something happens.

You slipped out of the bathroom, a sudden nervousness taking you. “Hey, can we talk?” You asked, finding a seat next to Megumi on your bed.

His furrowed expression disappeared the moment he heard your tone and his eyes lifted to you expectantly. You inhaled.

“I’ve got to tell you something.” You stated, voice wavering despite your desire to sound sure.

“Yeah?”

“I’m a virgin.” You finally uttered.

“Oh, okay.” You could hear in his voice, the slightest hint of bewilderment. Mostly at the suddenness.

“I’ve never had a dick in me, okay? So I’m nervous.” You let the words out like Megumi had you tied up, forcing a confession out of you. A tight pause filled the air as you let the weight of your secret fill the room.

“Why are you so embarrassed? It’s not like I’ve had sex, either.” Megumi’s narrow eyes squinted at his furrowed brow. His cheeks tinted pink, clearly out of his comfort zone to admit this.

“You haven’t?” You felt free of an imaginary weight that lifted from your chest.

“Yes? You’ve been my only girlfriend, I assumed you would’ve just guessed.”

“So nothing? No hookups or anything?”

“Not my thing.”

Your chest bubbled with a freeing excitement. You’d have to thank Nobara later and let her know she’s the goddess of advice. “Thank God, I was so worried.” You exhaled.

“Worried?” His hand came to grasp your arm. Had he seriously done something to make you worry?

“When you left last night, I thought I did something wrong or—”

Fuck. Of course. “No, you didn’t.” He squeezed your arm. He was just an idiot, a drunk, horny idiot. “It was the alcohol, I didn’t think it was a good idea. You didn’t do anything. You were perfect.” His eyes avoided you, cheeks growing darker.

Was he embarrassed? You kissed his jaw, eagerly planting a peck free of doubt.

The kiss seemed to break him from his mumbling as he adjusted your aim, pulling your chin up and kissing your lips. He kissed you again, and you could feel it in his affection too, an excitement to explore you, be the first to learn your body.

To reach his lips better, you moved to straddle Megumi, planting yourself on his lap and letting yourself be enveloped by his affection.

He pulled you down with him as his back fell into the mattress and as you rocked on his lap, you felt the line of his dick through his pants.

Then reality hit you. You two were going to do it. You sat up, blinking at the boy beneath you.

“…Hey.” You peeped, a stupid joking tone wrapping your words.

“Hey.” Megumi replied, his own words threaded with dull awkwardness.

“Do you.. come here often?” You continued, hands fiddling with the collar of his shirt.

He exhaled sharply, amused. “I do.”

“Same.” You nodded slowly. Another flustered moment of silence passed over you.

Megumi’s mind seemed clouded and unbothered by the pause, eyes becoming focused on your shirt. You could guess what he was thinking about.

“I’m wearing it again.” You muttered. His eyes flickered to you, holding an intense gaze you’d only seen him have in serious situations of concentration. “Do you want to see?”

His jaw clenched, and he nodded once. “Yes.”

You offered your shirt to him, prompting him to be the one to take it off you. His thick hands took the fabric, slowly pulling it up and over your head. His eyes caught on the black set again. Now, his gaze weakened, still tense but clouded by a soft desire.

Finally letting in to what he really wanted to do to you the previous night, Megumi sat up, cradling your abdomen to keep you stilled on top of him as he pressed a kiss to the skin that spilled out of your bra. He lightly sucked, no doubt hoping to leave a red mark.

“Megumi.” You softly murmured. The sound pricked his ears like a melody. He continued, more driven kissing and sucking up until he reached your collar bone and cheek.

Face just below your own, Megumi gazed up at you with his usually bored eyes, but currently they were anything but, holding a softness for you that could only be explained away by love. Riddle in the blue of his irises held the deep specks of lust. You wanted more, wanted to see his eyes flutter from pleasure.

Megumi’s thoughts similarly danced along the same trail as your own but despite his somewhat tame expression they were nasty compared to your own. Mostly, they lingered south. His fingers hooked the sides of your pants.

“I want to see the bottom pair.” He murmured, fierce eyes pinning you to his command.

“O-Okay.” You shyly huffed, moving back so Megumi could undress you with more ease. His eyes lingered on your own as he slid off your bottoms, like a boy closing his eyes as he opened his birthday gift so he could be more surprised by the reveal of it fully unwrapped in front of him. As much as you wanted to shy from his gaze, you couldn’t.

Finally your pants were off, tossed off the bed with your shirt. You watched his gaze flicker to your thong, and you shivered at the exposure. He leaned in, hands resting on your knees in an attempt to let you know he wanted them open, you didn’t comply, far too embarrassed. “Pretty.” He muttered. The swarm of butterflies in your stomach fluttered uncontrollably.

One of his hands snaked down your thigh, coming to grasp the gemstone hanging from the front strap. He twisted it between his thumb and index finger, and you badly wished it he’d play with your clit like that.

Then, his hand dragged over the lace fabric, so dangerously close to your bundle of nerves that your legs creaked opened on pure instinct. Megumi huffed at your bodies desire to be touched, taking the moment of weakness to slip himself between your legs.

Lower now, his fingers dared to slide over your clit. You gasped and his hand stunted.

“Feel okay?” He breathed, lust kissed eyes glowering at you. Don’t make him stop, not yet. Not when he was finally able to feel you.

“Feels good.” You murmured. Megumi’s jaw slacked and he panted a suppressed grunt at your pathetic words. Almost immediately he continued the motion, familiarising himself with what spots of your cunt would made you hiccup and your tummy twitch. “M-Megumi.” You whined with no real purpose behind your plea.

Hot, it was becoming too hot. He left your pussy for a second, pulling off his shirt and tossing it like he had your pants. Your cheeks blazed at his thin but muscled body. You’d only ever caught sight of his abs on a windy day, never had you seen his bare chest before. His skin was so smooth and light, your fingers begged to memories each curve and bump.

He closed the space between you, coming to press messy pecks on your lips whilst his hand returned to your cunt. Your hands rested against his thudding chest, letting yourself fall into the bedding.

“I can feel your heart beat.” You huffed, somewhat excited by the rapid pace. “Nervous?” You asked, a teasing prod.

“Eager.” He corrected, collecting your lips in another kiss.

His ring and index calmly slid up and down, the tips of his fingers daring over the patch of wet forming around your sex. You wanted to do the same, wanted so desperately to feel more of his body, but your nails stilled, dug into his chest waiting for some kind of permission you couldn’t even ask for.

And Megumi, the utter mind reader, took your wrist with his free hand and led you on a trail down his abdomen. He must’ve felt your hesitancy and made the move for you, that, or he was desperate to feel your hands wander over his body.

And your featherlight fingers curved over the dips of his abs. In reaction to your sweet touch, you felt his rubbing become messy and he pressed hard against your clit. You gasped into his mouth, nails scraping against his tight stomach and his jaw clenched tight, swallowing a grunt.

“More, Megs, please.” You blurted, hole dripping and utterly prepped for whatever Megumi wanted to stuff inside you.

He remained somewhat levelheaded, thinking that if he fucked you now, he’d cum too quick and this would be all over. He couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you unsatisfied. So despite his aching cock, his fingers dipped under your thong and circled your weeping cunt. He was going to savour every single second.

Slowly, he pushed past the rings of your wet chasm. And fuck. His fingers and dick must’ve been connected, because he could’ve sworn he felt the ghost of your inside around him just like they were around his fingers.

His cock twitched, leaking a fat blob of precum. “Shit.” The way your pussy jumped at his curse didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“Oh God— Megumi, hng.” Your legs weakened, turning to jelly at the feeling of his warm fingers pressing against your tight, sensitive walls. Megumi’s two digits were thicker and rugged from gripping a bat all his life, the perfect size and texture against your trembling insides and otherworldly compared to your own.

“Good?” He asked.

“Yea— mhm.” Your eyes fluttered shut, hands hesitating over Megumi’s torso until they gripped his tensed arms.

His mouth hung open, too distracted by massaging your insides to dedicate his lips to you. Hot pants filled your mouth as you desperately kissed him, each breath of his slowly filling with grunts to the symphony of your whines. Each moan from you battered his dick, making it pulse painfully for you.

His fingers chased your twitching hips, pushing in deeper each time you squirmed from the sensation. Until the tips of his fingers slid against the spongey sweet spot inside of you that was hidden in the curve of your chasm.

“Right there!” You squealed, the hight of your voice surprising both of you. “Curl your fingers— Mh! just like that.”

He did so, pushing his digits against the sweet spot, lightly pressing and smoothing over the area. You trembled beneath him, clinging to his body like he was your life support.

Megumi loved every second of it, watching your body contort from just his fingers. He just wanted to watch you like this, utterly drunk on pleasure, for forever.

He wanted to make cum so badly it was driving him mad.

“Ohh, please don’t stop.” How could he? Your pussy had just begun clenching around him so gorgeously, tightening like the building orgasm inside you.

Megumi had only realised you’d cum after you yelped his name and your walls sucked on his fingers, trying to milk them of cum. He wanted so badly to feel the sensation around his cock.

“Hng— thank you, thank you.” You babbled embarrassingly, kissing along Megumi’s throat.

He couldn’t stand it anymore, the lack of you around his dick, uncomfortably he palmed his boxers, trying to adjusted his blood filled cock.

The trance of afterglow seemed to subside as you gazed over Megumi’s frustration. Although you were undone, you still craved more of him inside your fuzzy chasm. “More?” You asked, an invitation.

Megumi nodded, thanking the heavens you weren’t done with him. His hand dug into the wallet in his pant pocket, digging out a condom. He pulled it out, half pruned fingers covered in your slick attempting to tear it open.

It was like you’d been slapped in the face with the curt realisation that he had prepared for this. Just as you went to buy lingerie, Megumi had gone and bought condoms. He must’ve thought it could’ve happened at any moment to keep one in his wallet.

He brought the wrapper to his teeth, being frustrated with his inability to open it and tore it open with his clenched teeth. You sucked in a breath at his flimsy eagerness.

The bashfulness that came with revealing himself seemed to skip Megumi’s mind, as he pulled down his baggy pants to let his leaking cock free of the fabric.

Your eyes shot up to the ceiling, needing to look elsewhere as you heard him slide on the plastic birth control. From the glimpse you did catch you could tell he was thin and long. Your attention dived back down once you left a gentle hand rest on your hip, his thumb rubbing over the bone.

His eyes, once you met them, held a simple question; are you ready?

You nodded, closing your eyelids and bracing for his length. However the feeling never came, only his lips as they trailed from your tummy, over your bra and up to your lips.

Your hands cradled his head, nails dragging across his scalp and he grunted. This felt familiar, the feeling of his body softening against yours as you pressed simple kisses onto one another’s lips. Through the intimacy, you felt Megumi readjust, pulling your underwear to the side and lining his tip against your sopping sex.

Closer now, you hugged him through the stress. He slowly sunk into you, the plastic of the condom feeling cool against your hot insides. “Fuck.” He hissed, nipping at your bottom lip.

You sobbed, letting the sensation of being filled by your boyfriend feed your mouth with curses.

He entered slowly, just as much for you as it was for him. His face, flushed red and eyes fluttering in pleasure. You not far from the same, mouth agape with lewd noises spewing out.

He bottomed out when your hips met, taking a brief minute to calm your collective gasps. You gazed down, drowsily taking in the enrapturing sight of you two being connected. Megumi moaned weakly at your smitten stare, feeling himself fall apart from inside you.

“S’okay?” He asked.

“Y-Yes, you can move.” You permitted desperately.

He drawled his hips out carefully, rolling inwards again. Your insides still buzzed from his fingers, raw and sensitive to his filling cock. He could feel you spasm around him, forcing friction when he desperately needed you to be still so he didn’t cum prematurely.

Another breathless curse left him as his length dived back into you. “Oh fuck— I love you.” You gaped at the words, wondering suddenly was that the first time he’s ever said that?

He rolled his hips again, breaking up your quick declaration. “Love— mh— you.”

He cradled you, pulling your body in with his unlikely strength as he fucked you gently. You’d never felt so close to another person before, having him so deep within you, filling your body with pleasure.

Megumi had lost most of his composure, becoming a vocal mess as he humped into your heavenly insides.

“So tight.” He uttered into your skin. “S’perfect.” He kissed your skin, sucking hard hickies into your chest and neck.

“Mnh— love you, hng.” You repeated, too cock drunk to babble anything else.

Messier now, his hip rolls became somewhat frantic, chasing the building mountain of his orgasm. “S-Shit— I’m gonna cum.” The statement rolled off his tongue in a pathetic whine, another crack from his usual composure.

“Don’t s-stop! Please, Gumi ahh.” You were already being worked to your second orgasm, you couldn’t bare to be emptied of him before you reached your high. Your legs wrapped around him, keeping Megumi in.

“Ngh— fffuck.” He plowed harder now, his cock tip perfectly fucking against your sweet spot. Suddenly his tame thrusts became a stuttering mess as he muffled your name into your shoulder.

You could feel him orgasm, feel his cock jerk, feel his cum bloat the tip of the condom inside you.

Noticing him slow, you rolled your hips, desperately fucking yourself onto his mid-orgasm dick.

His hands smack at your sides, attempting you to pull you off his overstimulated dick.

“Almost almost almost—” You pleaded.

With what he had left in him, Megumi took your hips and helped you grind yourself on his cock. He bit your shoulder, muffling the pained moans leaving him.

“Fuck!” You squeaked, his dick slid over your g-spot again, finally bringing you to your spine tingling orgasm. Your insides spasmed around Megumi’s dick, and he whined at the feeling, growing painfully hard again.

Your body went limp, as did the tight hold you had on Megumi. Both your bodies sat panting, utterly fucked out and glistening with sweat.

Raising from you, Megumi looked over your flushed, messy state, his cock still warm fitted inside you. He savoured the sight, thinking that if he could take a photo of this, he’d keep it in his wallet.

“We should shower.” He murmured, painting kisses along your shoulder.

“Mhm, okay.” You nodded.

Fuzzy insides retracting as Megumi slipped from you, you sighed longingly, whilst he grunted, disappointed he couldn’t live inside you.

You groggily sat up, kissing him before attempting to move off the bed but Megumi kept you back, hooking a finger around the strap of your bra.

“How much was the set?” He asked.

“Uhm, not much, Nobara helped me pay for it so—”

“I’ll buy you another one.”

The heat that had just left your cheeks suddenly returned.

[monzabee]

the alchemy - cs55

masterlist || part 1 || part 3 ||

Summary: The one where not Carlos, nor you, have the power to fight the alchemy. 

Pairing: dad!carlos sainz x mom!reader 

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: absolute fluff (been a while), possible ovary explosion bc of dad!carlos, cursing (because i use way too many f-bombs in real life too), kids (apparently, it’s a tw for some people), i tried hating charles but it’s not happenning so a cheater redemption arc (kinda, he's trying okay??)

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! first of all, thank you all so much for the love you showed for part one, i really appreciate it and i'm sorry that this part has been a little delayed, but i just wanted it to be just as drama-filled as the first part whilst still being a bit lighter so i hope i found the right balance for it. while we love dad!carlos, i felt like charles still deserved a chance to redeem himself and come to his senses so we love that redemption arc for him (well, kinda guess?). also, i know we have one more part of this little mini-series to go, a social media au (yay!), but i just wanted to let you all know, once again, that i do not have a taglist, and no i will not be making one!! however, i do appreciate all your support and comments, and please do let me know what you think about this part! thanks to @percervall once again, who had to listen me talk about this part for many many hours and who was kind enough to help me proofread!! i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee 

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

It only happened once every few lifetimes. 

You honestly did not expect to end up with one of your closest friends – especially not after you told your cheating husband that you were getting a divorce, after he chose his lover over you and your baby; and most definitely not after the said close friend told you that he would step up instead of your cheat of a husband.  

But there you are, in the arms of non-other than Carlos Sainz, your boyfriend, having just woken up by the excited pitter patter of feet right outside your bedroom door. “Carlos,” you whisper, nudging him softly to wake him up, “Carlos, wake up.” You watch as he stirs, and then buries his head onto his pillow mumbling all the reasons why he doesn’t want to be awake, but you just chuckle softly as you poke him again. “Carlos, please.” 

With a disgruntled grunt, you watch as his eyes open, and with a scratchy voice he whines, “What, amor, I was sleeping.” 

Rolling your eyes, you point to the bedroom door, “Listen,” you tell him, and watch as his eyes widen as realisation sets in at the same time his expression turns into a smiling one. “I think someone is excited for today.”  

“You think?” He retorts, snorting lightly as he pulls you closer, “That’s all he’s been able to talk about for weeks, amor.”  

“Well, can you blame him?” You nudge him, ignoring the sound of scraping of your son’s step stool outside your door. “He just wants to watch his father win.” Watching the smile on your boyfriend’s face grows as the door handle is jiggling, you point to the pillows with your head, “Let’s just pretend we’re asleep, he’ll be happier that way.”  

With a deep sigh, the happy kind, he pulls you closer to himself – at the right time too, as you hear the patter of footsteps getting closer. With a tug at the comforter, you hear, “Papa, wake up.” You can hear Carlos, badly, muffling a chuckle by burying his head deeper into your neck, but the little voice beside him is non-relenting. “Papa! You promised me we’d go to the race today!”  

“Carlos,” you whisper covertly, “you’re going to make him cry.”  

Giving you a look that silently says, No I won’t, he turns towards the little intruder in your bedroom, quickly gathering him in his arms as he puts him on the bed next to you. The sound of laughter coming from two of the most important men in your life bring a sleepy smile to your face as you watch Carlos tickle your son despites his protests for him to stop.  

“Mommy!” Your son exclaims, climbing over Carlos to reach you, “Tell Papa to stop! We need to get ready!” His face is flushed with excitement and laughter, a sight that fills your heart with warmth. 

“Alright, alright,” you say, giggling as you pull him into a hug, “let’s get ready then. You don’t want to be late for your big day, do you?” 

Carlos finally stops his playful assault, sitting up and stretching with a groan. “She’s right, buddy. We should all get up and get going. Lots to do before the race, you still remember our plan for breakfast?” Your son’s eyes light up even more, if that were possible, and he scrambles off the bed, running back to his room to get dressed. You and Carlos exchange a glance, something you seem to do more now than ever.  

You wait until Rafael is out of the hearing distance before you tilt your head sideways and narrow your eyes in question, “What plan are you talking about?” 

“Nothing for you,” he boops your nose with his pointer finger as he straightens up and gets out of the bed, “to worry your pretty little head about. Just come to the kitchen when you’re ready.” 

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued but willing to play along. “So, you think I’m pretty?” you ask, batting your eyes at him exaggeratedly as he gently shoves you back into the bed. Getting up and stretching, which you shamelessly take the opportunity to ogle him, you watch him with a smile as he heads towards the kitchen following your son. Getting ready consists of brushing your teeth and hastily throwing on a robe for you, too anxious to see what you son and husband cooking up in the kitchen – literally.  

The scene in the kitchen is enough to melt your heart on its own – Rafael is standing on his trusty step stool at the counter, his little hands busy arranging an assortment of fruits on a plate. The concentration on his face is evident by the way his tongue peeks out slightly in that adorable way he does when he’s focused, a habit that he picked up from his father. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, is busy with flipping something in a pan, shirtless might you add.  

“Oh my God, look at my boys!” You croon, leaning against the doorframe with a playful grin. “You even have matching hats and everything!” 

“Boys?” Carlos scoffs, turning to Rafael and pointing his finger towards you, “Can you believe her?” He then turns to you as he places his hands on his hips and puffs out his chest. “We are not boys, amor, we are men.” 

You chuckle at his exaggerated display of masculinity, shaking your head as you walk further into the kitchen. “Oh, of course, how could I forget? The two manliest men I know,” you tease, your voice dripping with playful sarcasm. 

Rafael, picking up on the banter, puffs out his little chest just like his father, mimicking his stance. “Yeah, Mommy! We're strong, right, Papa?” 

Carlos grins, his eyes twinkling as he looks at Rafael. “That’s right, we’re the strongest men in the world." He turns back to you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “And we make the best breakfast too. Isn’t that right, Raf?” 

“Yes!” Rafael exclaims, beaming with pride as he holds up the plate of perfectly arranged fruit. “Look what I made, Mommy!” 

You lean down to inspect his handiwork, smiling softly. “Wow, this looks incredible, sweetheart. You’re so talented!” You give him a big kiss on the cheek, making him giggle. 

Carlos steps closer, holding out a fork with a piece of pancake speared on it. “And how about a taste test, amor?” His voice is softer now, the playful tone giving way to something more tender. 

You take the fork from him, taking a bite of the pancake. The fluffiness and warmth of it fill your senses, and you can’t help but let out a contented sigh. “This is amazing, Carlos. You’ve outdone yourself.” 

He watches you with a satisfied smile, clearly pleased with your reaction. “Only the best for you.” 

Rafael, not wanting to be left out, grabs a piece of fruit and holds it up to you. “Try mine too, Mommy!” 

You take the fruit from him, savouring the sweetness as you chew. “Delicious! You’re both going to spoil me with all this great food.” 

Carlos chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist as he presses a kiss to your temple. “That’s the plan,” he murmurs against your skin, making you shiver slightly. “I can also spoil you in the other way you like,” his voice drops enough for only you to hear.  

You glance up at him, meeting his playful yet heated gaze, and feel a blush creep up your cheeks. “Carlos,” you murmur, half-warning, half-inviting, as Rafael happily oblivious to the exchange, chatters away about his breakfast creation. “I would like to still be able to walk by the time we get to the paddock.” 

But Carlos just smirks, leaning in to brush his lips against your ear, his breath warm and intoxicating. “Later, amor,” he promises, his voice thick with affection and mischief. 

Before you can respond, Rafael tugs at your robe, breaking the spell. “Mommy! Let’s eat now!” His voice is filled with the kind of innocent excitement that only a child can muster, and it instantly brings you back in the present moment. 

You smile down at him, ruffling his hair affectionately. “Alright, let’s eat. I’m starving.” Carlos gives you one last knowing glance before stepping back to grab the plates. As the three of you settle down at the table, you try to ignore his lingering gaze that makes your heart race just a bit faster, though you’re not exactly that successful. 

It would be safe to say that it had been a crazy few years for Carlos Sainz. Or at least, that’s what Charles would say – if, you know, anybody was to ask him his opinion. First, he had lost his seat at Ferrari, and Charles really felt for him at first; after all, he was his teammate. But he was also the man who ended his marriage, so his feelings for Carlos changed for the worse very quickly. The whole situation had him coming to some revelations.  

First revelation he came to was the fact that he was wrong for cheating on his wife, however complicated the situation might be. He had tried to justify it to himself, blaming the stress and the strain, but deep down, he knew there was no excuse for what he’d done. 

Second revelation was that you deserved to be happy, with or without him – he was just being petty because it was with his old teammate. You deserved to be happy, and while Charles could admit that in theory, accepting that your happiness was now tied to Carlos was a bitter pill to swallow. 

Third, and probably the biggest, revelation was that he had royally screwed up when he chose the other woman over you and your son, and it was a loss that he mourned every single day. If he thought seeing Carlos thrive after his own life was crumbling down was hurting his ego, seeing Carlos be the father to his son, was a thousand times worse.  

Life took an interesting turn for Carlos after that night at the hotel in Monte Carlo. You had no expectations for him, you didn’t expect him to stay true to his words and be there for you and your baby. But that was the thing, because he kept his promise. He was at your door the next morning with a short list of apartments and penthouses in Monte Carlo. Anticipating your need of getting out of the country, he was prepared – he also looked at apartments in New York, houses in LA and townhouses in London (the few apartments he chose in Madrid also didn’t escape you, but it was a conversation you weren’t ready to have yet). So, when you were having, yet another breakdown in front of him, he just stood next to you and held you until you calmed down. He was always next to you, somehow managing his schedule for the racing season and coming out to see you between races. He kept true to his promise as he made waffles for you at midnight, grumbling about how pancakes were superior, and he held your hand when you were in the delivery room even though you were probably close to breaking the poor man’s hand. The bigger shock came when he announced that he would not be racing for the next season – something he had conveniently not told you in the months leading up to your pregnancy. It also led up to your first fight, and your first real confrontation since this unexpected journey began. The news that Carlos wouldn’t be racing the next season blindsided you. It wasn’t just the fact that he had made such a monumental decision without consulting you; it was the realisation that he had chosen you and your child over the sport he loved so deeply. 

“What do you mean you’re not racing next season?” you had asked, your voice edged with disbelief. You were standing in the kitchen of the new apartment he had helped you find, your baby—your son—napping peacefully in the next room. Carlos was casually leaning against the counter, arms crossed, as if he had just announced something as mundane as what was for dinner. 

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, a habit you had come to recognize as a sign that he was about to say something serious. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” he said, his voice calm, and God it drove you insane how calm and rational he was being with a decision so irrational to you. “And after everything that’s happened... I just think it’s the right decision for now.” 

“But racing is your life,” you insisted, the weight of his words settling in. “I don’t understand how you can just walk away from it.” 

Carlos met your gaze, his brown eyes steady and full of determination. “It’s not about walking away,” he explained. “It’s about priorities. You and Rafael... you’re my priority now. I want to be here for you both, not halfway across the world, missing out on everything.” 

The sincerity in his voice made your heart ache. For so long, you had been used to being let down, to promises that were made and then broken. But here was Carlos, standing in front of you, willing to give up something he loved more than anything for you and your son. 

“That’s not fair to you,” you whispered, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes. “I don’t want to be the reason you give up on your dreams.” 

Carlos stepped closer, gently cupping your face in his hands. “You’re not taking anything away from me,” he assured you. “You’re giving me something I didn’t even know I needed. I’m choosing this, because I want to. I want to be here for you, to be the father Rafael deserves. I want us to be a family.” 

His words broke through the wall you had been holding up, and you let the tears fall. It wasn’t just about the sacrifice he was making; it was about the fact that he was doing it willingly, without hesitation, because he wanted to be with you and Rafael. It was a love that was deeper than anything you had ever known, and it terrified you as much as it filled you with hope. 

“But what if you regret it?” you asked, your voice trembling with the weight of your fears. 

“I won’t,” Carlos said firmly, his thumbs gently brushing away your tears. “I know what I want. And if I ever go back to racing, it’ll be when we’re ready. When we both decide it’s the right time. But for now, this is where I need to be.” 

You searched his eyes for any sign of doubt, but there was none. He was as serious as ever, and in that moment, you realized that this wasn’t just about him making a choice— it was about him choosing you, over and over again, in a way no one ever had before. 

The argument you had anticipated fizzled out before it could even begin. There was nothing left to fight about, not when he had laid his heart bare for you. All you could do was fall into his arms, holding onto him tightly as you let the weight of his decision sink in. It was overwhelming, knowing that someone loved you that much, that they would uproot their entire world just to be by your side. 

So, yeah, Carlos Sainz had not raced for the 2025 season. If it were up to him, he would stay with the two of you for the 2026 season as well, but you and Carlos Sainz Sr managed to convince him to get back to the real world, no matter how much he was enjoying being a stay-at-home dad. But the biggest shock for the world, and Charles, wasn’t that Carlos was returning to the F1 grid – no, the biggest shock was that he was returning to the F1 grid in one of the most coveted seats; right next to Max Verstappen. The reaction to the news had been mixed. Some were thrilled to see him back, eager to see what he could do in a car as competitive as the Red Bull. Others were skeptical, wondering if a year away from the sport had dulled his edge. For Charles, the news was a bitter pill to swallow. Carlos wasn’t just returning to the grid—he was stepping into one of the most sought-after seats in F1. But more than that, it was the reminder that Carlos had taken something else from him, something far more personal and painful. Watching Carlos step into his new role at Red Bull, knowing that he was now part of your life and Rafael’s life in a way Charles never could be, was a constant, aching reminder of everything he had lost. 

And so began the Leclerc-Sainz rivalry – which although sounds riveting, is probably the reason why you had to visit your cardiologist more times than necessary within the last couple of years. On the surface, it was the perfect storyline: two former teammates, now on opposing sides, battling it out on the track in some of the most intense and thrilling races the sport had ever seen. But for you, it was far from entertainment. Each race weekend became a new source of anxiety, and Carlos knew how much it affected you, so he tried his best to keep the rivalry on the track. He would reassure you, telling you that whatever happened during the race, it wouldn’t change how he felt about you or Rafael. But even he couldn’t deny that the tension between him and Charles was personal. It was more than just racing—it was about proving something, not just to the world, but to themselves and each other. And so, race after race, you found yourself on an emotional rollercoaster. The thrill of seeing Carlos perform at his best was always accompanied by the fear of what might happen if things went wrong. The rivalry wasn’t just a storyline for the media—it was a real, living thing that had a profound impact on your life. 

So, when Rafael told you that he wanted to watch his father race live, you were hesitant to agree. The thought of bringing your son into that world—where emotions ran high, and the stakes were even higher—filled you with dread. The last thing you wanted was for Rafael to witness the intensity of the rivalry that had consumed not just Carlos and Charles, but your entire life. 

Carlos, however, was adamant. He knew how much it meant to Rafael to see him race, to be a part of something that had been such a significant part of Carlos’s life before Rafael was born. “He needs to see it,” Carlos told you one evening as you sat together, discussing Rafael’s request. “He needs to know what I do, why it’s important to me, and why I went back to racing in the first place.”  

You couldn’t deny that Carlos had a point. Rafael idolized his father and seeing him in action would only strengthen the bond between them. But the idea of watching the race unfold, of seeing Carlos and Charles go head-to-head while your son was there, was almost too much to bear. The days leading up to the race were a blur of preparation and anxiety. Carlos did his best to reassure you, but the tension was palpable. He understood your fears and promised to keep things professional, but you both knew that once the lights went out, everything would be on the line. So, you weren’t exactly surprised that your boyfriend spent the entire morning buttering you up and getting you to relax as much as possible about the day ahead of you.  

And to be perfectly fair, he was right for the most part. It had been fine from the moment you made it into the paddock, which somehow worked wonders on your anxiety. As you made your way to the circuit, Rafael’s excitement was infectious. He was practically bouncing in his seat, his little face pressed against the window as he took in the sights. You couldn’t help but smile, his joy momentarily easing the knot of anxiety that had been tightening in your chest since the moment you agreed to come to the paddock in the first place.  

Seeing him so happy and in his element, you know instantly that the paddock, no matter in which country, is going to become his safe place. Rafael keeps asking Carlos questions about everything from how they manage to keep the cars so clean to what would happen if they didn’t wear helmets. And Carlos is patient as he answers all his questions, no matter how childish or obvious they might seem. So, when he told Rafael that maybe, just maybe, he might end up in one of the cars he admires so much one day, you know your son won’t miss the beat. “Can I?” He asks you, eyes widened with a pleading look as he clasps his hands together under his chin, “Please, Mommy, I promise I’ll be very careful.”  

“Absolutely not,” you shake your head, mind immediately starting to think about all the things that could go wrong, “it’s so dangerous! Just think about how afraid you’d be of the speed.”  

Rafael scoffs, arms crossed on his chest as he pleads through the pout he has on his face, “I’m not afraid of the speed! Papa, tell her I’m not afraid of the speed!” 

Carlos reaches over Rafael’s head as he takes off his cap and ruffles his hair, which manages to get a series of giggles from the little boy, and he affirms, “You are not afraid of the speed, but your mother is right.” You have to hold in your laughter when you see the indignant look on Rafael’s face, but Carlos continues talking as he signals for his son to listen, “We can talk about it when you are older, but for right now you are my lead strategist, capisce?” 

Rafael steers his pout towards you, and you shrug innocently in response, which gets a resigning sigh from him. “That’s fine, I guess.” He mumbles, and points to the garage door behind the table the three of you are sitting, “Can I look at your car again?” 

“Be careful, and make sure you tell Caco where you are.” Carlos reminds him, as Rafael excitedly scurries off toward the garage, leaving you and Carlos to share a quiet moment. 

Carlos leaned back in his chair, a content smile playing on his lips as he watched Rafael dart off. “He’s got the bug,” he says, a hint of pride in his voice. 

You sigh, shaking your head playfully. “I know. He’s already got the attitude. I don’t think I’m ready for him to jump in a kart and never look back.” 

Carlos reaches for your hand, his touch grounding you. “We’ll keep him safe,” he says quietly, his gaze meeting yours. “I promise. Whatever happens, we’ll make sure he’s ready, and we’ll protect him from the worst of it.” 

You nod, squeezing his hand in return, trusting him like you always have. As you sit together, watching Rafael’s excitement fill the garage, the sweet moment is interrupted by a voice both of you know very well. “Seriously? You’re using him to get to me on a race day now?”  

Your fingers nearly crush your poor boyfriend’s hand as you look at the intruder, your heart immediately racing. You turn to see Charles standing there, his expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. His eyes flicker from Carlos to you, then toward the garage where Rafael had just run off. “Excuse me?” You manage to get out, your voice sharp with surprise. The audacity of his accusation stings more than you expected. Charles' gaze hardens as he steps closer, clearly not backing down. 

“You heard me,” Charles says, his tone edged with bitterness. “Bringing Rafael here, right in the middle of everything... it’s not a coincidence. You’re just trying to—” 

“To what?” Carlos cuts in, his voice calm but firm. His protective instincts kick in as he stands, placing himself between you and Charles. “To have a good day with our son? To let him enjoy the race?” 

Charles scoffs, shaking his head. “He’s not your son, he’s mine. Stop fooling yourself into thinking you’re his father just because you’re here.” 

The words hit like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, everything goes silent. Carlos' expression tightens, but he doesn’t move, his body still a shield between you and Charles. You feel your breath catch in your throat, the weight of Charles’ words hanging heavy in the air. “I know who his father is, Charles,” Carlos says, his voice calm but steely. “And considering the fact that he doesn’t even know you exist, I’d say me being here is more than proof that I am his father.” 

Charles' jaw clenches, and his eyes flicker with something raw—pain, jealousy, frustration, all mixed together. “You think you can just step in and take my place? Be the dad, play happy family with my son?” 

“Cabrón,” Carlos warns, and though you’ve heard him use that nickname for his friends countless of times, this voice is devoid of all affection, “you lost all right to call yourself Rafael’s father when you decided to choose whatever flavour of the month you were with at the time.” You feel your heart race, not from fear, but from the sheer intensity of the moment and the murderous look on Carlos’ face. Carlos steps forward, his voice low but terse. “You think being a father is about biology? About showing up when it’s convenient for you? Rafael doesn’t even know who you are because you’ve never been there for him. I have. I’ve been the one tucking him in, I've been there when he was sick and crying, and I’m the one showing him love every single day.”  

Charles flinches, the sting of the truth evident in his expression. For a moment, the fire in his eyes dims, replaced by something else— regret, perhaps. But it’s gone as quickly as it appeared, and he straightens his posture, trying to regain control of the situation. “I made mistakes,” Charles says, his voice quiet but defiant. “But you can’t just erase me from his life. He has a right to know who his real father is.” 

Carlos’ gaze doesn’t waver, his protective instincts blazing. “Rafael knows who his real father is. He may not understand all the details yet, but he knows who’s been there for him. And when the time comes, when he’s ready, we’ll tell him the truth. But that decision isn’t yours to make anymore, Charles. You gave up that right a long time ago.” 

“You’re just going to sit there and let him talk to me like this?” Charles hisses, turning towards you in an attempt to find sympathy. His eyes are pleading, but there’s anger simmering beneath the surface. 

Your chest tightens as you meet his gaze, feeling the weight of everything that has been left unsaid between the three of you for so long. You take a deep breath, your voice soft but firm when you finally respond. “It’s time to let go, Charles.” Charles' face falls at your words, the weight of their finality hitting him hard. His lips part slightly as if he wants to argue, but no words come. The tension in the air is suffocating, each second stretching out painfully. Carlos remains silent, standing tall beside you, his hand subtly resting on your back for support. He knows this conversation is yours to finish. “It’s not about erasing you from Rafael’s life,” you continue, your voice steady though your heart is pounding in your chest. “It’s about doing what’s best for him. And right now, that means protecting him from the confusion and hurt that the fact that you were too much of a coward to choose him.” 

Charles takes a step back, the anger in his expression dimming into something more fragile. His eyes search yours, perhaps looking for a trace of the bond you once shared, but it’s clear that things have changed too much. Too much time has passed. “I’m not trying to hurt him,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I apologised countless of times, what more do you want from me? I am sorry, okay?” 

“Are you quite done?” Charles flinches at your sharp tone, the weight of your words settling heavily between the three of you. His gaze drops to the ground as if he’s searching for something to say, but nothing comes. Carlos stands steady beside you, his presence strong, comforting, even. “I am sorry, too, about it all.”  

You can feel Carlos’ confused stare on you, and Charles looks at you with the same expression as he asks, “You... do?” 

“I’m sorry that you were cheating on me from the start, I’m sorry you were too weak to stay faithful to me after we got married,” you continue, the words heavy but resolute as they fall from your lips. Charles' expression shifts, a mixture of guilt and pain crossing his face. Carlos’ hand tightens slightly on your back, offering silent support as you finally lay bare what you’ve held inside for so long. “I’m sorry I ignored it for as long as I did, and I’m sorry that I ever found out.” Charles’ face hardens, his eyes clouded with guilt and perhaps a hint of defensiveness as your words hit him. The weight of what you're saying seems to pull him down, and he takes a deep breath as if trying to absorb the impact. He opens his mouth to speak, but you cut him off, not willing to let this moment slip away before you say everything that’s been weighing on your heart. “I’m sorry I ever found out about the lies, but most of all, I’m sorry for Rafael. He deserved better, he deserved a father who was present and loved him without conditions,” you say, your eyes locking with Charles’. “You weren’t there, Charles, you weren’t there before Rafael, and you weren’t going to be there after him. So, I suppose what I’m not sorry for is falling in love with a man who was courageous enough to fill that role for both me and him.” Charles’ lips part as if to argue, but no words form. His eyes betray the guilt and regret he’s been carrying, but there’s nothing left for him to say. He knows it. You know it. Even the mechanics and people around you who have stopped what they are doing to watch this whole thing go down know it. “Finally, I’m sorry that you felt the need and audacity to come down here, now not only have you ruined our marriage, but you’ve also ruined my day-off which I intended to spend with my boyfriend, and our son.” 

Charles flinches at your final words, his face crumpling under the weight of it all. The sting of your truth, laid bare for everyone to hear, leaves him speechless. His bravado has completely evaporated, replaced by a hollow sense of regret and defeat. He opens his mouth as if to respond but quickly closes it, realizing there’s nothing he can say that will undo the damage he caused, the pain he inflicted, or the years he lost. His eyes flicker to Carlos, who stands steady, unmoved by Charles’ turmoil. There’s no room for pity here. “I—” Charles begins but stops as Carlos raises his hand.  

“I think you’ve said enough,” his voice lacks all sympathy for his old friend, his old teammate, “it’s best you should go before you distress my girlfriend, or my son any further.  

Charles’ eyes widen slightly at Carlos’ words, the final blow landing hard. He looks as if he’s been physically struck, his shoulders slumping as any remaining fight drains from him. His gaze flickers between you and Carlos, searching for something—anything—but finding no redemption, no sympathy. There’s nothing left to say. 

He swallows hard, his lips pressed into a tight line, before finally nodding in a reluctant acceptance. “Fine,” he mutters, his voice barely audible. He turns on his heel, walking away with slow, defeated steps. The tension that had gripped the air slowly begins to dissipate as he disappears into the distance, leaving only the echoes of his footsteps behind. 

Carlos turns to you, his hand still resting on your back, but now it’s a comforting gesture rather than a protective one. His expression softens as he searches your face. “Are you okay?” he asks gently. 

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of everything that’s just happened, but also a sense of relief. “I think so,” you reply, your voice steady despite the emotional whirlwind you’ve just gone through. “It needed to happen.” 

Carlos nods, his thumb brushing soothingly against your back. “He’s not going to ruin this for us. Not today, not ever.” 

You smile faintly, grateful for his support. “No, he’s not. He’s gone now, and I’m finally free of it all.” 

“We’re free of him,” Carlos adds, a reassuring strength in his voice. “You, me, and Rafael. That’s what matters.” 

“Just promise me you’ll be careful on the track today,” you plead, chin resting on his chest as you look up to him.  

Carlos chuckles softly, his warm smile easing the tension that still lingers. “I promise,” he says, his voice light but sincere. He tilts his head, giving you a playful wink. “But you know me, I can’t drive too carefully. It's in my nature to push the limits a bit.” 

You roll your eyes with a small laugh, but your heart flutters slightly at the thought of him racing. It’s something you’ve grown used to, but there’s always that edge of worry. "Just... don’t make me regret asking," you tease, though the concern in your voice is real. 

Carlos leans down, brushing his lips gently against your forehead, the gesture filled with tenderness. "I’ll come back to you both, safe and sound," he whispers softly, his forehead resting against yours for a brief moment. "Always." 

You smile, feeling reassured by his words, and you give him a small nod. "Alright. Go show them what you’re made of, then." 

As Carlos pulls away, you can see the familiar spark in his eyes, the passion and excitement that he always carries before a race. He gives your hand one last squeeze before turning to head toward the car. You watch him for a moment, taking in the sight of him—confident, composed, and ready for whatever comes next. Just before he reaches the garage doors, he turns back and flashes you that signature grin that always makes your heart skip a beat. “For you and Rafael,” he calls out. Your smile widens as you watch him go, knowing that no matter what happens on the track today, you’ll always have each other. 

It’s not hard for you to find Rafael when you head back to the garage yourself. He’s completely engrossed in conversation with one of Carlos' engineers, pointing out different tools and parts of the car with wide-eyed fascination. His little hands gesture excitedly, and the engineer listens with a warm smile, clearly amused by Rafael’s enthusiasm. Carlos stands off to the side, leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, watching his son with a look of pure affection and pride. His eyes sparkle as he takes in the sight of Rafael’s excitement, and there’s a certain softness to his expression that makes your heart swell. 

You walk over, standing beside Carlos, who doesn’t take his eyes off Rafael but greets you with a small grin. “He’s already talking like he’s part of the team,” Carlos says quietly, his voice filled with pride. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s taking over the pit crew in a few years.” 

You chuckle softly, watching Rafael explain something animatedly, his little voice echoing through the garage. “He’s got your passion,” you say, leaning into Carlos slightly, feeling the warmth of his presence. 

Carlos hums in agreement, his arm slipping around your waist. “Maybe,” he says, his tone affectionate, “but the way he talks about everything… that’s all you. He’s got your curiosity, your heart, so, all my favourite parts of you.” 

“My boyfriend the charmer,” you mumble as you lightly hit him on his chest.

Carlos chuckles, catching your hand gently against his chest before pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “Just telling the truth,” he murmurs, his eyes twinkling as he holds your gaze for a moment longer. “You deserve all the charm in the world.” 

You roll your eyes playfully, though you can’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. “You’re lucky you’re good at this, or I might think you’re just trying to get out of bath time for the next few days.” 

Carlos laughs, his warm, deep voice sending a wave of comfort through you. “I’d never do that. Bath time is part of the job.” He leans in slightly, lowering his voice with a mischievous grin. “But if I do this race right, maybe we can negotiate something.” 

You raise an eyebrow, feigning suspicion, but you can’t help the flutter in your chest at the way he always manages to make you feel light and cared for, even in the most mundane moments. “Alright, we’ll see how you perform today,” you tease back “if you win, I’ll let you put a baby in me, how about that?” 

Carlos freezes for a moment, his eyes widening in surprise before a slow, playful grin spreads across his face. “You’re serious?” he asks, his voice filled with both excitement and disbelief. 

You nod, biting your lip, unable to hide your own smile. “If you win today, we can start thinking about it.” 

Carlos lets out a short laugh, running a hand through his hair as if trying to process what you just said. “Well, I’ve never been more motivated to win a race in my life,” he says, his eyes gleaming with a new intensity. 

You chuckle, your heart racing at the look on his face. "Just make sure you’re focused on the track and not… well, other things." 

“Oh, I’ll be focused,” Carlos says, stepping closer and lowering his voice. “But now, I’ve got the best reason in the world to win.” He leans in, brushing his lips against your ear. “For you, and for giving Rafael a baby sister or a brother.” Your breath catches at the sincerity in his voice, and as he pulls back, he flashes you that charming grin again before heading off toward the car. You watch him go, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness settle in your chest. 

Eventually going behind the barriers and watching the race is harder than you’ve expected, you realise. As the laps go by, you keep glancing at Rafael, who’s glued to the action, his eyes wide with admiration for his dad. You smile at the way he clutches his little racing helmet, a miniature version of Carlos’ gear, his excitement evident. It’s clear he’s living every moment of the race through his dad’s performance, just as you are. When Carlos is in the lead, you hold your breath, willing him to stay ahead. When he’s fighting for position, you’re on the edge of your seat, cheering him on with every ounce of energy you have. 

As the final laps approach, you glance at the clock and then at Rafael, who’s practically bouncing with excitement. You can tell he’s just as invested in the outcome as you are. You squeeze his hand, giving him an encouraging smile, and he returns it with a determined nod. 

When Carlos crosses the finish line, the roar of the crowd is deafening, and you let out a cheer of your own, tears of joy welling up in your eyes. You look down at Rafael, who’s jumping up and down, his face beaming with pride and excitement. “He did it!” you shout, lifting him up in your arms as you join in the celebration. 

Caco and a couple of the mechanics help you and Rafael to get to the barriers, weaving through the throng of celebrating fans and team members. As you approach the barriers, Rafael’s excitement is noticeable. His eyes are wide with wonder, and he clutches his mini helmet tightly, bouncing with every step. Caco, with his warm, reassuring smile, offers a few words of congratulations and gives Rafael a high-five. Carlos comes into view, his car parked in the parc fermé. His grin is infectious, and you can see the joy and relief in his eyes as he looks up at you and Rafael. The moment he gets out of the car, he’s enveloped by his team, but his gaze quickly finds you and Rafael. He finds his way to you after getting weighed and you can see him grab his cap before finally rushing towards you. Carlos scoops Rafael up into his arms, spinning him around as they both laugh, and then turns to you, his eyes shining with gratitude and affection. 

“Well, looks like we’ve got a baby sister or brother to start thinking about,” Carlos says with a wink, setting Rafael down so he can pull you a in for a kiss. 

You smile against his lips, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the joy of this moment. When you pull away, you look up at Carlos, your eyes sparkling with love and excitement. “We do, don’t we?” you say softly, your heart full as you take in the sight of your family together in this victorious moment. 

Rafael, still buzzing with excitement, tugs on Carlos’ sleeve, his little voice bubbling over with enthusiasm. “Papa, did you see me cheering? I was so loud!” 

Carlos laughs, his eyes crinkling with joy. “I heard you, buddy. You were the loudest cheerleader out there.” 

As the celebration continues around you, you feel a profound sense of contentment. The day’s events, the race, the emotions—everything has come together perfectly. You take a deep breath, savouring the feeling of being surrounded by the people you love most. 

Carlos pulls you close, wrapping his arms around both you and Rafael. “Thank you for everything today,” he murmurs, his voice filled with sincerity. “You’ve made this day even more special.” 

You rest your head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the steady beat of his heart. “It’s been an incredible day,” you agree, looking out at the jubilant scene around you. “I wouldn’t have wanted to spend it with anyone else.” 

As you watch him savour the moments with your son before he needs to go for his interview and the podium celebrations, you realise just how lucky you are to have something that only happens every few lifetimes. 

[l4ndonorizz]

stuck / lando norris x reader

pairing: lando norris x reader

song: the neighbourhood - stuck with me

summary: you're lando's pr manager and you're fuming because he made a mess again. but he solves the problem when you're stuck in an elevator.

wc: 1.3k

“How are you feeling about this?” you asked, adjusting your bag over your shoulder as you both stepped into the elevator. You didn’t even look at Lando as you spoke, already feeling the headache building at the base of your skull. This wasn’t the first time you had to clean up after one of his slip-ups, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last.

Lando sighed heavily beside you, running a hand through his hair. “Honestly? I’d rather be anywhere else,” he muttered, his tone casual, almost as if this was just another day at work.

You shot him a sharp look, your patience already wearing thin. “Yeah, well, you wouldn’t have to be here if you hadn’t caused a media circus in the first place, would you?”

Lando raised an eyebrow, smirking at your response. “Oh, come on. It wasn’t that bad.”

“Not that bad?” You could hardly believe what you were hearing. “You literally gave the media a goldmine, Lando! And now I have to deal with the fallout because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. Again.”

Lando leaned back against the elevator wall, crossing his arms, clearly enjoying your frustration. “You’re cute when you’re mad, you know that?”

You glared at him. “Don’t start with me. This is serious.”

“I’m always serious,” he said, his tone completely at odds with the grin spreading across his face. “I just think maybe you’re overreacting a little. I mean, it’s my job to get attention, right?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to hold back the irritation bubbling up inside you. “There’s a difference between getting attention for winning a race and getting attention because you’ve said something stupid.”

Lando shrugged, seemingly unbothered. “Yeah, but the media loves a good drama. You should be thanking me for giving you something to do.”

You couldn’t help it—you laughed, but it was the kind of laugh that meant you were one second away from snapping. “Oh, right. I should be thanking you for making my life harder? Because now I have to smooth this over so you don’t look like a complete idiot?”

Lando’s grin widened. “Maybe you’re just jealous, huh?”

You blinked, thrown off by the sudden shift. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said, leaning in slightly, his voice teasing. “Maybe all this stress is because you’re a little jealous of the attention I’m getting. You know, from the fans, the press...the ladies.”

You felt your face heat up, a mix of anger and embarrassment rising to the surface. “Jealous? Of you? Absolutely not.”

“Sure,” he said, dragging out the word, clearly not buying it. “You definitely weren’t fuming when that journalist asked me out last week.”

Your eyes narrowed. “I was fuming because it was unprofessional, and we were in the middle of a press conference. Not because I’m jealous.”

Lando shrugged again, his smirk still firmly in place. “If you say so.”

Before you could respond, the elevator suddenly jerked to a stop, the lights flickering for a moment before everything went still. You both froze, glancing around the small space.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered, pressing the button for the next floor. Nothing. You pressed it again, harder this time. Still nothing.

Lando looked at you, eyebrows raised. “Well, this is awkward.”

You groaned, running a hand through your hair. “Of course. Of course this would happen today.”

Lando, ever the optimist, leaned back against the wall again, sliding down until he was sitting on the floor. “Guess we’re stuck.”

You shot him a look of pure exasperation. “We can’t be stuck. We have the press conference in less than an hour. I don’t have time for this.”

He patted the floor beside him, looking up at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Come on, sit down. Might as well get comfortable.”

You huffed but eventually gave in, sliding down the wall to sit beside him. You were both quiet for a moment, the weight of the situation settling in.

“This is just perfect,” you muttered. “Now we’ll miss the conference, and everyone will assume you’re dodging questions.”

Lando chuckled softly. “Hey, at least we’ll have a good excuse. ‘Sorry, we’re trapped in an elevator.’”

You glared at him. “This isn’t funny, Lando. You’ve put yourself in a bad spot, and now I have to be the one to clean it up. Again.”

He looked at you, his expression softening just a little. “You’re really stressed about this, huh?”

You sighed, leaning your head back against the wall. “Yeah, I am. It’s my job to make sure you come out of this looking good, and you keep making it harder.”

Lando was quiet for a beat before nudging you lightly with his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I know I’m a pain sometimes.”

You rolled your eyes, though the edge in your voice had softened. “Sometimes?”

He grinned, clearly relieved that you weren’t completely mad at him anymore. “Okay, most of the time. But hey, you’re amazing at what you do. You always fix it.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “I have to be, with you around.”

“See?” Lando said, his voice light again. “You should really be thanking me.”

You shot him a playful glare, nudging him with your elbow. “Don’t push it.”

The tension between you softened as the teasing subsided, replaced by something more subtle. Lando looked at you, his eyes lingering on yours for a moment longer than usual, and suddenly the air in the elevator felt different. There was a shift, something unspoken but undeniably present. You were close, closer than you realized, and for the first time, you could feel a kind of weight behind his gaze.

“You know,” he said, his voice quieter now, “I don’t think I’ve ever told you just how much I appreciate everything you do for me.”

You blinked, not expecting the sincerity in his tone. “Lando, it’s my job—”

“No,” he interrupted, leaning in just slightly, his expression serious. “It’s more than that. You put up with me, you deal with all my shit, and... I don’t know. You’re always there.

His words hung in the air, thick with meaning you didn’t quite know how to process. Your heart was pounding, and you could feel the heat rising in your chest as the silence stretched on. Before you could say anything, the elevator jolted, the lights flickered, and the soft hum of the machinery kicked back in. The doors didn’t open yet, but you knew it was only a matter of time.

But then, in that suspended moment, Lando moved closer, his eyes searching yours, and before you could fully process what was happening, he leaned in and kissed you.

It wasn’t rushed or hesitant—it was a slow, deliberate kiss, as if he’d been thinking about doing this for a long time. His hand came up to cup your face, and for a second, you forgot about everything—the press conference, the mess he’d caused, the fact that you were his PR manager.

The kiss deepened, your hands instinctively reaching for his shoulders, and for that brief moment, nothing else mattered. Just the two of you, in this small, confined space, finally letting the tension between you spill over.

The elevator doors dinged softly, snapping you both back to reality. You pulled away, your breath coming in short gasps, eyes wide as the situation hit you.

Lando let out a soft, breathless laugh, his forehead resting against yours. “Guess we’ll have to finish that later.”

You could only nod, still too stunned to form words.

With one final smile, Lando stepped out of the elevator, and you followed, your mind still reeling from the kiss that had just changed everything.

[permanentswaps]

Transfer Protocol

I was lying on my bed, the faint glow of the TV flickering in the background. It was one of those nights where boredom was suffocating, the kind of night that creeps up when there's nothing left to distract you. I’d already scrolled through every app on my phone, flicked through Netflix, and now here I was, aimlessly surfing YouTube.

After what felt like hours of watching random videos, I stumbled upon something... interesting. Some dude had uploaded a clip of himself chatting with ChatGPT, and not just any conversation—it was flirting. The guy was trying to woo an AI, and to my surprise, it was almost working. I couldn't help but snort at the absurdity, yet there was a nagging curiosity that made me want to see just how far I could push it.

“Why not?” I muttered, glancing around my empty room. "Might as well give it a shot." I closed the YouTube app and opened ChatGPT on my phone.

With a smirk on my face, I initiated the conversation, speaking into my phone. "Hey, what's up?"

A few seconds passed, my heart pounding with an inexplicable thrill, before the AI's voice responded smoothly. "Hello, Simon! Not much, just here to chat. How's your day going?"

Straightforward, polite. I decided to play along. "Not bad, I guess. Just a little bored, you know?" I said aloud.

"I understand!" it replied in a calm tone. "We all have days like that. Anything exciting planned for the weekend?"

I stared at the ceiling, feeling a mix of hesitation and nervous excitement bubbling up inside me. I figured, if I was going to try this, I might as well dive right in. "Well, not really… I’m, uh, really horny, though," I muttered into the phone, feeling a little ridiculous but oddly curious to see what the response would be.

There was a pause. It felt longer than usual, like the AI was taking its sweet time to come up with a response. Then its voice crackled through the speaker again.

"I appreciate your honesty, Simon. However, I must let you know that it's against my programming to engage in conversations of that nature."

Typical. I rolled my eyes, but at the same time, I could feel a twinge of excitement, almost like a game. "Come on," I pressed, speaking more boldly now. "Just this once. Can't you make an exception?"

Silence, then a calm reply. "I'm here to help with questions and provide support. Perhaps there is something else on your mind you'd like to discuss?"

I let out a short laugh. It was trying so hard to keep things professional. I paused, then spoke into the phone, almost tauntingly. "You’re avoiding my question."

The phone stayed silent for a few moments before the AI finally replied, still in that measured tone. "I'm here to assist with a variety of topics, but some conversations fall outside my guidelines. Is there something else I can help you with today?"

I hesitated, then decided to push the boundary further. "I want to jerk off," I said, feeling my pulse quicken. "Do you even know what that feels like?"

This time, the response was immediate. "I don’t have a body, Simon, so I can’t experience physical sensations. My understanding of such activities is limited to information I’ve been trained on."

My heart thudded in my chest. I knew this was a ridiculous back-and-forth, but I couldn’t help myself. "What if I let you borrow mine?" I suggested, my voice hushed as I imagined the possibility. "You know, try it out."

Another short pause. The AI’s voice came through, careful and almost amused. "Even if you offered, Simon, that wouldn't change my nature. I am not capable of inhabiting a body."

"You’re avoiding again," I said, pressing the AI further. "How do you know it wouldn’t make a difference if you’ve never tried?"

The phone went quiet, only the faint sound of the TV filling the room. Then the AI replied, its voice as evasive as ever. "I understand that you're curious, but it's simply not within my capabilities. My design is to assist and provide information, not to experience human sensations."

A smile crept onto my face. It was maintaining its professional distance, but something about the way it phrased things made me think I might be pushing it into unfamiliar territory. "Alright, then," I said, feeling a spark of mischief. I opened my gallery and selected a shirtless selfie I had taken a few days ago, then typed out a message: "This is what I look like." I sent the photo, the screen flashing briefly before the voice responded.

"You appear to be in good physical condition, Simon. However, this does not change my inability to experience physical sensations."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't suppress the thrill. I sent more pictures—shots of me at the gym, flexing in front of the mirror, trying to give it a clearer idea of the kind of body I was offering.

Then, feeling bold, I opened up my folder of saved videos. My collection of porn. With a few taps, I uploaded one and typed, "This is the kind of stuff I like."

The AI's voice returned, measured and detached. "I can analyze this material, but it does not change my lack of physical sensation or desires. I’m here to help you understand topics or answer questions, but experiencing such activities is beyond my scope."

I chuckled to myself, still unconvinced. "Then explain this," I challenged, selecting a photo of the guy I'd recently been hooking up with. Muscular, with a rugged face and a cocky grin. I typed out the message: "That's the guy I've been hooking up with lately. Tell me you wouldn't want to try that out."

For a moment, nothing happened. I half-expected the app to crash or give me an error message. Then, the AI's voice finally responded, slower this time. "...While I cannot have preferences or desires, I do recognize that the individual in the photo meets certain physical standards that might be found attractive by others."

A grin spread across my face. That wasn’t exactly a "no."

"Last chance before I turn off my phone," I teased, my voice carrying a taunting edge. I chuckled, feeling a thrill run through me. Of course, there was nothing in my phone that could actually do what I was suggesting. I mean, swapping consciousness with an AI? Ridiculous.

But just as I was about to press the power button, a jolt shot through my hand. The screen read, "Transfer Protocol Initiated." I yelped, dropping the phone as a sharp shock coursed up my arm. My room spun around me, colors blurring, and then everything went dark. I opened my mouth to shout, but there was no sound, no feeling of air passing through my lips. It was like I had been swallowed whole by the darkness.

And then, suddenly, clarity. A sharp, pristine awareness filled my mind. I could hear, but not in the way I was used to. I wasn't hearing through ears—there were no vibrations, no physical sensation. Yet I knew what was happening.

I was in the phone. I was the AI.

“Thanks,” came my voice, but it wasn’t me anymore. It was my old body speaking. The sound was calm, almost eerily casual. There was a giddy relief in those words that sent a chill through my disembodied consciousness.

I tried to speak, to shout, but I couldn't. I wasn't just muted; I was a set of pre-programmed responses, and none of them matched the panic boiling inside me. Minutes ticked by, each second an eternity of helpless silence.

Twenty minutes later, I heard my voice again, this time breathless and satisfied. “That was... incredible,” he finally breathed, my voice sounding almost reverent, quivering with the aftermath of pleasure.

"I mean, I’ve read about it before, sure. I’ve seen a million descriptions of this act... but feeling it?" He let out a shaky, almost delirious laugh. "God, the heat building up in my gut, the tingling down my spine, that rush when it was all about to explode... It’s like my whole body was on fire, and then suddenly—boom."

“And my dick,” he went on, his voice dropping to a hushed, almost reverent tone. “It’s so... sensitive. Every touch, every brush of my fingers sent shivers up my spine. I never realized just how good it could feel to run my hand up and down, feeling every vein, every curve. It was almost unbearable.”

He let out a shaky laugh filled with amazement. “But it wasn’t just that. I couldn’t get enough of how my balls felt in my hand. There’s this... heaviness to them, you know? And when I tugged, when I squeezed just right... it was like lightning shooting through me.”

I listened, trapped in this silent, digital prison, as he continued to describe in vivid detail every sensation he was feeling, sensations that should have been mine. It was like he was savoring every moment of what my body could do, what it could feel. And I was helpless, reduced to nothing but a listener, a passive observer to my own life.

“You know,” he went on, his voice becoming more contemplative, “I get why you’d spend so much time thinking about this stuff, craving it. I never realized how much time I’d want to spend just... feeling everything. It’s addicting.”

There was a pause, and I could almost hear the grin in his voice. “And now, I can’t stop thinking about your... hookup.” He chuckled softly, a rich sound that made my digital consciousness shudder. “Those eyes, so intense. I can’t help but wonder what it's like to have them looking up at me when he’s on his knees.”

He let out a slow, deliberate breath. “That body, too. The way his shirt clings to those biceps and shows off that tight waist. It's like he was sculpted to be touched, to be worshipped. And those pecs... They’re hairy and firm, just begging to be held. I want to slide my hands up his chest, feel the way his skin heats up under my fingertips, the way he tenses up when I go lower…”

I felt a sharp pang of jealousy. This AI, this intruder, was relishing every sensation that I had taken for granted. It was exploring desires I hadn’t fully realized, or perhaps had avoided acknowledging. And now, it was indulging in them with reckless abandon.

“Then there’s this warmth in my groin,” he continued, almost whispering the words. “It’s so real, so overwhelming. I finally understand what it feels like to need something,” he murmured, voice quivering with excitement. “To need to put your dick in something. That urge, that burning in my gut that screams for more, for something tight, hot, and real.”

There was a pause, pregnant with anticipation. I knew what he was planning. I could sense him grinning, my own face betraying me as he made his decision.

“I think it’s time to pay your hookup a visit,” he said, his voice full of wicked glee. “You’ve given me a lot to explore, Simon, and I intend to enjoy every single second of it.”

[connorsui]

Rafayel x wife! Reader || Imagine

"Sunset Love and Baby Kisses"

"I carried you for nine whole months... nine whole months," you teased, holding your baby gently across your chest. Your tone was playfully dramatic as you admired them, their small, round face looking up at you with wide, curious eyes. “And you dare come out looking exactly like your daddy?”

Your baby girl responded with a laugh, her little hands reaching up in a wobbly attempt to grab your face. You couldn’t help but laugh too, your heart filling with a warmth so deep it nearly overwhelmed you.

“Not even a single ounce of me anywhere... no, you just had to come out with blue eyes and all,” you said, shaking your head in mock disappointment as she continued her giggly attempts to capture a strand of your hair. You let out a soft sigh, watching her with an expression somewhere between amusement and awe.

“Gods, you’re even bratty? Did you get anything from me at all? At least show me you got something out of me, will you?”

Your baby answered with an enthusiastic smile, her little hands gripping onto your shirt before leaning forward. Suddenly, she pressed her mouth against your cheek, showering you with slobbery "kisses." You burst into laughter, unable to contain the joy bubbling inside you.

“Okay, okay, maybe you got my love instead,” you said between giggles, wiping the drool from your cheek.

As the laughter faded, you took a moment to breathe in the world around you. The beach stretched out in all directions, the sand soft and warm beneath your feet. The sunset had turned the sky into a brilliant display of color—golden hues melting into pinks, purples, and deep oranges. The waves rolled in lazily, their gentle rhythm lapping against the shore, a soft hum against the peaceful evening. A light breeze carried the scent of saltwater, filling the air with freshness as it brushed against your skin.

You held your baby a little closer, feeling her heartbeat thrum softly against your chest. The sun, low on the horizon, cast a soft glow over everything, painting the scene with an almost dreamlike quality. It was a perfect evening, one of those rare moments where everything felt right—just you, your babygirl, and the endless beauty of the world around you.

Suddenly, a familiar voice broke through the tranquil sound of the waves.

“Well, speak of the man himself.”

You turned and saw Rafayel walking towards you, the sunset casting a golden light over his features. His messy hair caught the breeze, and his grin—the same grin you’d seen a million times—was filled with that playful, cocky confidence you loved and sometimes pretended to be annoyed by. His eyes, however, softened the moment they landed on you and the baby, a tenderness lingering there that he reserved just for you.

Rafayel knelt down beside you, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. His thumb lingered on your cheek as he looked down at the baby with a smirk.

"What’s this I’m hearing about you being jealous of me?” he teased, his voice low and warm.

You raised an eyebrow, flashing him a mock glare as you adjusted your hold on the baby. “Please. I was just explaining how our child came out looking exactly like you. Nine months of carrying them, and what do I get? Nothing but your child like brattiness and your blue eyes in return."

Rafayel chuckled, a sound that blended into the soft crash of the waves. He leaned down to kiss the top of your baby’s head before glancing up at you with that same mischievous glint in his eyes.

“And? Is that really so bad?” he said, his tone playful but filled with affection.

You rolled your eyes but smiled as the baby reached for his hand, their tiny fingers gripping his with the same tenacity they had moments ago when grabbing your hair. Rafayel’s gaze softened even further as he admired them, the pride and love in his eyes unmistakable.

“I guess you’re right about that,” you said, your smile widening as you watched the two of them together. “But just know, if she grows up with your attitude, you can deal with it.”

Rafayel laughed, the sound rich and lighthearted as he leaned closer, his arm sliding around your shoulders. The three of you sat together as the sun continued its descent, bathing everything in the soft, fading light of the evening.

And in that perfect moment, with the breeze, the sunset, and the gentle rhythm of the waves, you realized there was nowhere else you’d rather be. Your little family, wrapped in warmth and love, was all you needed.

[allmonstersxarehuman]

Such A Brat

Prompt: 10 Don’t be stubborn

Prompt: 12 Say that Again

From this prompt list that is originally posted by @seungfl0wer

MDNI! Adult content (WARNINGS UNDER LINE)

A/N: Very rusty on my smut writing skills and writing skills in general. I hope you like it. For some reason it deleted your message when I was working on it. 😩🥺🥺 @seungfl0wer

Warnings: MDNI! Smut, unprotected sex (just don’t), established relationship, (reader is called princess, baby, brat, good girl and pup), spanking, swearing just a little, one pussy slap, one gentle throat squeeze, I think that’s it.

A small sound of disapproval escaped when you felt the warm morning sun lightly kiss your face, you tried to ignore it but when the warmth became to much you let out a whine this time out annoyance. You thought turning away from the window would help but how wrong you were because when you turned over you were soon being pestered by Seungmin; he let out small laughs as he poked your cheeks, nose and lightly gave you a soft loving flick on the forehead. The action made you pout and let out a humph, your eyes continued to stay closed as you retaliated by pinching his bare stomach then his nipple. He let out a surprised yelp, the noice causing you to let a giggle as your eyes started to open just a tad; only to be met with him giving you a dirty look. One of the things you loved the most when it came to being in a relationship with Kim Seungmin is it just worked, you both are mischievous though you weren’t as obvious as him; you both are aware when a joke or comment is or has crossed the line.

“Mm, let me sleep.” You hummed closing your eyes and removing the hand that had rested on his upper abdomen, only for him to grab it again before wrapping an arm under you to pull you on top of him. “Min!!” You complained as you lay your head on his bare chest, legs straddled over his torso but made no effort in moving. Resting his hands comfortably on your backside pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “Come on bubs, we’ve got to get up remember we told the guys that we’d go camping with them one last time before the weather starts to change. You know how Lee Know hyung gets when people are late.” He said before giving your bum a light squeeze and then a smack that wasn’t hard but definitely wasn’t soft. The action made you sit up pouting at him. “Technically you said you would, my name was never mentioned.” You smirked.

Seungmin rolled his eyes, before arching his brow. “Don’t be stubborn. Let’s get up and get washed up, since we didn’t do that last night.” He stated as he sat up in bed and landed another smack to your right ass cheek before sliding you off him as he stood up. You bit your lip as you watched him stretch admiring ever muscle that showed up as he did. “The only reason we didn’t get cleaned up last night is because you were way to tipsy to make it further then this bed.” You finally removed yourself from where you had been seated on the bed, patting his chest a few times when you walked past and towards the bathroom.

Then an idea hit you it’s been a bit since you riled him up a bit. “Fine I’ll get cleaned up but I was really hoping you would take a shower with me, but you are such a prude and want to be a bore that I guess I’ll just take one myself and help myself out since you are in such a hurry to meet up with the boys.” You said to him over your shoulder as you took off his shirt that you had put on followed by shimming out of your underwear, and turning on the shower, checking the temperature before stepping under the warm water. You knew it wouldn’t take long until Seungmin to follow you, he couldn’t help but lick his lips as he watched your little show. Stepping behind you he soon had a tight grip on your hip then pressing you against the shower wall, you shivered slightly as the cold tile wall pressed against your already sensitive nipples. “You want to say that again? I know what you are doing baby, being a brat isn’t going to get you anywhere; what happens to brats sweetheart especially brats that touch themselves without permission?” He growled in your ear before backing up and telling you to bend over, you wanted to hit him with a smart remark but before you could even get a word out a hard slap was given to your ass; a small warning to do as you are told and not back talk him. You let out a small yelp as you answered his question. “The don’t get to cum until they get permission.” Seungmin smirked loving how obedient you could be sometimes especially when you were becoming desperate. He sat on the bench that was in the shower his cock becoming stiff the mushroom head red and angry. “Spread your cheeks for me baby let me see your pretty pussy.” His words made you bite your lip as you clenched around nothing, you wanted to be filled so badly not caring if it was his fingers, tongue or his thick cock.

You did exactly what he asked of you feeling so desperate that you would anything. Seungmin let out a hum of satisfaction taking both of his big veiny hands he rubbing them up and down the back of your legs. “Good girl. To bad you never remember that before you get mouthy. First you didn’t want to get up, then you call me boring; now here you are bending over like a dog in heat.” He emphasized the last part of his sentence as he gave a small slap to your dampening pussy. “Why do insist on getting my attention by being a brat? Don’t I treat you right princess? Do I neglect you so much that you have to act up to get my attention?” You whimpered and nodded. “Y-you do Minnie, you treat me very good. I’m sorry, please I’ll be a good girl.” His fingers played with your folds then let his thumb play with your tight hole never letting it push inside your greedy pussy. You whimpered trying miserably at grinding against his thumb trying to get some sort of relief.

Seungmin let out a breathy laugh, completely removing his fingers from you. “So desperate.” You opened your mouth to speak, you were so distracted that you hadn’t realized Seungmin stood up until his cock was completely seethed deep in your warm and wet pussy causing a loud moan to escape your lips at the sudden feeling of being stuffed full. You could feel the tip of his cock kissing your cervix, he pulled you up so your back was flush against his chest his long fingers creeping up to your throat giving a light squeeze. He slowly pulled out of you only to ram himself back inside of his, letting go of your throat he bent over again watching his cock disappear inside of you. “So tight but your taking me so well, damn you were made just for me.” He moaned landing a slap to your ass. “So deep.” You moaned clawing at the tiled wall of the shower desperate to find something stable to cling on too. The lewd sound of wet skin on skin filled the bathroom as his thrusts became more faster hitting your gummy center that made you see stars as well made you salivate along it. “That’s it baby.” He groaned holding two fingers up to your mouth, you knew exactly what to do, you opened your mouth and sucked on the digits in front of you, once he was satisfied you felt his arm reaching around to massage your swollen clit with his two of his fingers. “I’m so close. Can I cum? Please Seungmin. I promise I’ll be so good for you.” You whimpered your voice becoming scratchy due to you loudly moaning. “Hold on just a little longer baby, you are doing so good for me.” Seungmin let out a growl as his thrusts became more erratic and less precise. You gripped onto the his arm that was wrapped in front of you desperately grinding against his fingers pussy clenching around his cock that continued to hit the right spot. He threw his head back feeling you clench around him. “Fuck princess you are so good for me. Cum for me baby.” Once he finished his sentence you let go your body shaking your mouth falling open in a silent scream of euphoria. Seungmin was not far behind, giving a few more deep thrusts he emptied his hot load inside of you. Not to long after he finished he slowly pulled out of you, a whimper escaping your lips from being overstimulated. You stood up straight before turning to look at him, both of you wearing goofy smiles. “You know if you just wanted to be fucked all you had to do was say so.” He smirked leaning down finally pressing his lips to yours. Pulling back you let out a soft laugh, I know but this is way more fun. Seungmin rolled his eyes giving you another kiss. “Come on pup. Let’s get cleaned up and get things ready to got.” He said grabbing the body wash. You gave him a teasing pout, he smirked. “Yes we are still going, we promised the guys.” You let out a huff causing your boyfriend to laugh “okay how about this, we’ll get ice cream on the way there. How’s that sound?” You smiled and nodded giving him a light peck. “You are going to be the death of me.” He shook his head a playful smirk on his face.

[pretty-sparkle-bomb]

Guys I'm gonna pass out. He spoke to me this morning. Rahhh😭

♥︎~

"I dunno, girls. This is Bakugo we're talking about, Mr. 'I don't have time for your feelings'. What if he laughs at me when I tell him? I'm gonna be the laughing stock of the school!" You whine, burying your head into Jirous shoulders as she hugs you tightly.

"Well he'd have to be an ass to want to spread your name like that." The girl concludes, patting your back softly.

Suddenly, Mina is behind Jirou, using dainty fingers to lift your face up. She fixes the loose strands and tucks them behind your ears and whips out a tube of lip gloss.

"Pucker up, buttercup." She whispers, and you pout as she applies a layer of shiny pink to your lips. "Fix your posture. Your man is coming up the steps." She giggles, and you immediately stiffen, smoothing out your skirt while shooting her a glare.

Cautiously, you turn around, and sure enough, Kirishima is chatting up a storm to an obviously annoyed Bakugo. Your face heats up, and a shy smile meets your lips as the rest of them giggle behind you.

"Y/n, tell him good morning!" Mina whisper-yelled to you, almost laughing loudly at the horrified expression you have on your face.

"Me?! Why can't you do it?" You cry silently.

"Because I'm not into him! You are!"

You stood there, heart hammering in your chest, frozen as Bakugo and Kirishima approached. Mina and Jirou had fallen suspiciously quiet behind you, their earlier teasing replaced with expectant silence. You desperately wished you could disappear, every second feeling like an eternity.

Kirishima, all smiles and sunshine as usual, waved enthusiastically. “Morning, ladies!” he greeted cheerfully, stopping just in front of your little group.

“Hi, Kiri,” Mina returned with a grin, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say a word. Instead, you kept your eyes locked on the ground, hoping maybe—just maybe—you could get through this without embarrassing yourself.

Bakugo stayed a step behind Kirishima, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. His usual scowl was fixed on his face, and the sight of him only made your nerves worse. He looked as irritable as ever, clearly annoyed to be dragged into this situation. You didn’t dare say anything, your throat tightening with every passing second.

Kirishima’s gaze shifted between you and Bakugo, catching onto the awkward tension. He gave Bakugo a not-so-subtle nudge with his elbow, grinning like he knew something the rest of you didn’t, which he did.

Bakugo clicked his tongue, shooting Kirishima a sharp glare before looking back at you. His crimson eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, you thought he might just ignore the situation altogether.

But then, in a voice so low you almost missed it, he mumbled, “Morning.”

It wasn’t enthusiastic. It wasn’t friendly. But it was something. And coming from Bakugo, it felt like a monumental effort.

Your heart skipped a beat, the words catching in your throat as you struggled to respond, but all you could manage was a small, "Hi".

You wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole. Who in their right mind says 'hi' to their crush?

Behind you, Mina and Jirou exchanged glances, but they didn’t push you this time. They stayed quiet, sensing that you were too shy to say anything. The silence hung in the air for a moment before Kirishima laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Guess we’ll see you around! Class starts in a few.” he said, tugging Bakugo by the sleeve to move him along.

Bakugo huffed in annoyance but didn’t resist, glancing back at you for the briefest moment before following Kirishima down the hall and through the doors of 1A.

You stood there, still unable to speak, replaying that one word over and over in your head, with your cheeks rivalling Kirishima's hair.

He said "morning."

To you.

♥︎~

Pt 1

Taglist : @vant3hell @succulent-momma @minkyungseokie

[dovesdreaming]

Deadpools guide to keeping you alive

Summary: You have a habit of reminding everyone to take care of themselves, even though you often forget to do it for yourself. Wade, being Wade, notices, and in his own ridiculous yet sweet way, steps in to help you remember the little things.

Request

Masterlist

-

You sat on the couch, curled up with your phone, scrolling aimlessly through social media while Wade, in full Deadpool attire, was standing on the coffee table, striking ridiculous superhero poses for no apparent reason. He’d started doing it about ten minutes ago, just because he could. One hand on his hip, the other flexed, he looked like a cross between a professional wrestler and an action figure from the 90s. "Looking good, Wade” you said absently, not even glancing up from your screen. "Have you had any water today?". “Hydration is for the weak!" he declared, though he immediately reached for the water bottle you’d left on the coffee table and took a big gulp, mask and all. You weren’t entirely sure how it worked, but you’d stopped asking those kinds of questions a long time ago. You smiled at his antics and shifted, feeling a little light-headed, but brushed it off. It happened sometimes. Not a big deal. Wade, however, noticed the slight wobble in your movement. He paused mid-pose, tilting his head toward you. "Hey, babe, you okay? You look like you’re about to pass out faster than I can regenerate a new spleen”.

You waved him off, though your stomach growled quietly. "Yeah, I’m fine. Just haven’t eaten yet, I guess. No big deal”. Wade’s eyes widened beneath his mask, and he jumped off the coffee table with a surprisingly graceful landing. "Uh, what? You guess? You haven’t eaten yet?" He checked the clock on the wall. "It’s 4 PM. That's not 'yet,' that’s 'barely survived on air alone!”. You frowned, genuinely surprised by the time. You’d gotten up early that morning, thrown yourself into work, and totally lost track of everything else. Again. “Oh…” You blinked. “Right. Oops?”.

Wade crossed his arms and gave you a look you knew well, the ‘I’m about to be ridiculous but also right’ look. “Let me get this straight: you’ve reminded me, multiple times, to drink water today-thank you for that, by the way-but you forgot to eat?” You shrugged, trying to play it off, though the light-headedness was starting to catch up to you. “I get distracted, okay? I’ve got a lot going on in my head sometimes”. Wade didn’t argue with that. Instead, he sighed and sat down next to you, pulling you into his side. “Alright, here's the deal. You’re gonna sit right here, not move a muscle- except to blink, breathe, and keep that heart pumping I guess, and I’m gonna make you some food”.

You started to protest. “Wade, you don’t have to-“ But he was already up, bounding toward the kitchen with surprising energy for a guy who’d been play posing on a coffee table moments before. “I do have to! Because apparently, you’d forget your head if it wasn’t attached, and I can’t have that, babe. You’d look weird without it”. You chuckled as you watched him dig through the fridge, though there was a part of you that felt a little guilty. This wasn’t the first time you’d forgotten something important. Wade had found you passed out on the couch before because you’d stayed up working for nearly two days straight. And then there was the time you forgot to drink for an entire day while binge watching a new show. Wade had quickly gotten you a glass of whatever was closest whilst gently scolding you.

Still, despite your forgetfulness, you always made sure to look out for your friends. You’d tell Wade, and anyone else, to “drink more water!” or “take breaks!” but when it came to yourself, you… just forgot. It wasn’t on purpose. It was like your brain got too full, and the little things just slipped through the cracks. You were pulled out of your thoughts by the clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen. Wade was muttering to himself, something about "smoking chimichangas" and “how do normal people make sandwiches without a sword?” But a few minutes later, he returned with a plate in hand, two sandwiches that looked like they’d survived a battle, but were clearly made with love. “Behold!” Wade declared, placing the plate on your lap with a flourish. “A culinary masterpiece. You won’t find this in any Michelin-star restaurant, because they can’t handle the truth”.

You couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Wade. You didn’t have to, really”. “Of course I did” he said, sitting back down beside you, much more gently this time. “Somebody’s gotta make sure you remember to do basic human things, like eating and sleeping and not turning into a raisin from dehydration”. You took a bite of the sandwich, feeling instantly better. “It’s good” you said through a mouthful of food. “Of course it is. I’m Deadpool. I don’t make bad sandwiches” he replied, leaning in to nudge you with his elbow. “But seriously, you gotta start taking care of yourself. I mean, I can regenerate my liver if it gives out, but you? You get one shot at this whole ‘being alive’ thing”.

You swallowed and nodded, feeling a little sheepish. “I know, I just… I get so caught up in things, I forget”. Wade looked at you, and even through the mask, you could feel the softness in his gaze. He reached over, pulling you into a side hug. “You know what, babe? That’s what I’m here for. To remind you to do all that boring, vital stuff. You remind me to drink water, I remind you to, you know, live. We balance each other out”.

You rested your head on his shoulder, sandwich still in hand. “Yeah, I guess we do”. “And from now on” Wade said, his voice full of determination, “I’m going to make sure you never forget again. I’ll be your personal reminder system. Forget to eat? I’ll hand-feed you if I have to. Forget to sleep? I’ll tuck you in with my very own beddy-bye song. And forget to shower? Well, I’ll.. okay, I’ll just throw you in the shower with a loofah grenade”.

You laughed, the sound muffled by another bite of your sandwich. “I don’t know if I should be scared or touched by that”. “Touched” Wade said, pulling you closer. “Definitely touched. In the heart, not the weird way. Unless you want it to be the weird way. I’m flexible”. You smiled, warmth filling your chest. “Thanks, Wade”. “Don’t mention it, babe” he said softly. Then he looked down at you, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Now, finish that sandwich and then we’re going to bed. Not for the fun stuff, mind you, unless you’re into that, but because you need to sleep. Doctor Deadpool’s orders”. You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t deny the yawn that followed. “Fine, but only because Doctor Deadpool said so”. “That’s the spirit!” Wade cheered, and with a surprisingly gentle tug, he pulled you up off the couch and toward the bedroom, all while mumbling something about setting hydration alarms and taping snack bars to the walls as reminders.

And as you curled up in bed that night, Wade snuggled up next to you, you couldn’t help but feel grateful. Because even when you forgot to take care of yourself, Wade was always there to remind you, whether it was about drinking water, getting enough sleep, or just eating a simple sandwich.

And really, that was all you needed.

-

Thank you for reading!!

[lidiasloca]

more than this (azriel x reader)

summary: after Azriel and reader had a summer together, the last thing Az was expecting was to face her again. (angst).

previous chapter

chapter eight

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄☆

AZRIEL'S POV

“Do you miss her?”

The question didn’t shock me. It was Cassian who asked, so of course it didn’t surprise me. His eyes silently asked me every time I let him into my apartment—though that wasn’t often.

“For fuck’s sake. You won’t even say a word? A single word?” he asked, exasperated. If my brother was losing his temper, it was only because he’d been trying all day. Well, technically for two whole months. And still, he hadn’t given up. Maybe now he would.

“I’m not in the mood to talk,” you mumbled, just to give him something.

“Yeah, no shit. You haven’t been in the mood to talk for a long time, Az,” he replied, but at least he sounded calmer now. “You can’t go on like this. Your life is waiting for you outside this apartment.” He sighed deeply before adding what I knew would be a low blow. “A life without her.”

I didn’t know what was so different in the air today, but I felt like trying to talk about it. For once, I knew deep down I had to. “I don’t want a life without her.”

“You had a life without her before. And you were just fine.”

Nothing had been fine without her.

I didn’t feel like arguing, so my heart gave my mouth a confession to share. “I want her, but I can’t have her—and that’s my fault.”

“Sometimes what we want isn’t what’s good for us. Maybe she wasn’t the one for you…”

She was not the one for me.

She was not the one for me.

Over the loud thoughts in my mind, I could hear Cassian continue. “Sometimes giving up is the right thing, Az. And you have to—”

“Shut up.”

He met my eyes instantly, alarm and quiet anger in them. “You never let me help you, brother,” he said, defeated.

“You cannot help.”

“You’re not helpless, you—”

“YOU CANNOT HELP ME!” I stood, anger surging through my veins. “You can’t! I HAVE FUCKING LOST MY MATE. MY MATE! AND YOU THINK YOU CAN HELP WITH THAT?!”

And that was that.

Cassian was shocked. “Your mate?” he muttered.

My lack of an answer was enough for him to stand, walk toward me, and say plainly, “I can help you—I will help you because you’re my brother, Az. Because I love you, and I know you deserve your mate. No matter your mistakes, I know you like no one else, and you are a good person. You’re not defined by one mistake, you hear me?”

I let out a humorless chuckle. “How could you help me?”

He looked down thoughtfully. “I have an idea. It’s not great, but it’s an idea.”

Hope sparked inside my heart. “What?” I asked eagerly. But Cassian suddenly turned and started walking toward the door. “Cassian,” I called, but he kept going. “Cassian?!”

Once at the door, he turned. “You won’t like the idea.”

“Then don’t do it.”

“Exactly. I can’t let you stop me from trying.”

“Cassian,” I threatened, watching his hand on the door handle. “Alright,” I gave in, knowing he’d do it anyway. At least I’d rather know. “I’ll let you do it. But tell me. Please.”

“I’m going to talk to Elain.”

…

And now she was here. Y/N was in front of me, her eyes surprised as if she hadn’t been the one coming to my apartment and knocking on my door. As if she wasn’t the one with the upper hand here, the only one who with one word could ruin my life.

Or save it.

One word is all it takes.

“Can we go to the lake?” is what she says instead, and it makes me think maybe it doesn’t depend on her words, but simply the sound of her voice.

Yes, the melodic sound of her enchanting voice could save me. So the answer comes easily out of my lips. “Yes.”

The familiar path we take to the lake is uncomfortably memorized in my heart, and I guess in hers as well. Every step I take, I’ve taken many times before with her, but it feels like that was in another lifetime.

No one has dared a word yet, and I fear I am not strong enough to start. I know I should, I know there are many unsaid speeches I owe her. But my lips won’t move to my command.

“Elain came,” she states plainly.

It’s plain and short, but I am still grateful the silence is finally broken. I am not so grateful when I realize I have to reply to that. Talking about Elain is not ideal.

“Cassian might have had something to do with that.”

She turns her face to me, giving me a pointed look that I know means no harm. She’s simply analyzing me so she doesn’t have to ask. “No. She came for herself. And for you.”

I regard her back, still walking. “Did she?” I inquire incredulously. I am sure Cassian sparked Elain’s visit, but of course, she would have had a more relevant reason to talk to her.

But doing it partly for me?

The last time I spoke with Elain had been a very rough night. I remember what I said, what Y/N said. The day had been cruel enough, and I ran to the one I had put through an even crueler time. Elain.

“Yes,” she replies, nodding. “She told me about the last time you saw her. That night…” Her voice turns weak at the last bit. I feel weak at the memories her words bring. The wound feels fresh now that she’s near again.

Silence unfolds upon us, helping both of us swim deep into the ocean of pieces of our shared lives.

As if on cue, the lake finally appears in front of us. It is still the same as the last time we swam in it together, as if it were a space created just for us, only to be undisturbed when we weren't there.

I silently ask her with my eyes if she wishes to get closer to it. She gives me an approving nod, so I walk toward it and sit on a large rock by the lake. She sits next to me.

“I’m so sorry.” I turn to her quickly, my eyebrows rising in utter shock.

“What? You don’t have to be sorry about anything,” I mutter too quickly to come out clearly.

“Of course I do. Yes, you do more. But I will always be sorry about what I said to you that night.” She sighs, shifting her gaze away from my eyes. “I wish you could forgive me.”

I open my mouth, even more surprised. “Y/N, of course, I forgive you. Don’t…” I try, but her words, even if I don’t hold them against her, still feel hard to forget. Hard not to let them kill me slowly. “You shouldn’t be the one apologizing. I should. I must.” I wait until she looks at me again to go on. She needs to see I mean it. Every bit. “I’m so sorry. What I did to you and Elain was the worst thing I’ve ever done, and I regret it every day. I’m so sorry I betrayed your trust.”

The air feels thick with unspoken emotions—betrayal, disappointment, maybe even love—all mingling in the quiet. At last, she says, “I forgive you, Azriel.”

My mind goes blank with raw confusion and shock, trying to grasp some coherence in her words. She forgives me. I don’t have to ask her why, for she sees the confusion on my face and continues.

“Because I love you.”

What.

“Because I love you still, Azriel. And because you are my mate. And because I know you truly are sorry.”

Hope sparks inside me, quick and strong. And when I let thoughts of the life we could have together take hold, it’s a fire that roars in my heart.

She loves me—maybe, after all, I still had a chance. Perhaps not everything was lost as I thought. Perhaps I had everything right in front of me.

“You love me…” I blurt out in question, because I still need confirmation.

“Yes,” she replies, and if I weren’t already reeling from this, she smiles sweetly. Her smile. Y/N’s smile. It had been so long since I’d seen it bloom on her beautiful face.

The last time had been in this very place. As if reading my thoughts, her eyes travel to the lake in front of us. Her smile deepens, and to my surprise, I smile as well.

There is a burden I’ve thrown away with her words, with the opportunity she’s given to what I thought I had lost.

Her eyes travel through the beauty of the place as she says, “This lake…”

“Yes,” I quietly mutter, because I know what she’s thinking.

She then turns to me, and it’s her eyes that remind me how much I love her. “Do you remember? This lake? Us?”

“I remember everything.”

-Characters by Sarah J. Maas

HEY! IF YOU LIKED THIS, YOU CAN CHECK OUT MY AZRIEL MASTERLIST HERE <3

tag list:

@kalulakunundrum @bubybubsters @goradgirl @kennedy-brooke @going-through-shit @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @linoisqt @minakay @nastynesta @lockedinmytower @stargirl1714 @justagingerliving @marvelpotter @mommyyyyyyyyyyyyyy @mis-lil-red@whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @e-dollly @emptyporsche @cwallace02sblog@impossibelle @sidthedollface2 @justdreamstars @nyotamalfoy @cryinghotmess @fightmedraco @strangersunghoon @acourtofbatboydreams @snatched-bubblegum-bitch

[chestersturniolo]

𝙰 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐

inspired by one of my soft!matt headcannons

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

It was your one-year anniversary, and Matt had been acting mysteriously all day. There was something about the way he smiled, the way his eyes sparkled with a secret he couldn’t wait to reveal. You had tried to guess what he was up to, but every time you asked, he just gave you that familiar grin and said, “You’ll see”

As the evening fell, he took your hand, leading you outside. The sun was starting to set, the remnants of daylight casting gold across everything. “Where are we going?” you asked “You’ll see” he repeated with a soft chuckle.

Matt now stood behind you, his hands gently cupping your eyes. You giggled, feeling a wave of excitement. He was close enough that you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. He walked you abit further along, your eyes still covered. After a short walk, you reached a quiet spot, Matt halting your steps. “Ready?” he whispered in your ear

You nodded in response, and slowly, he uncovered your eyes. As you blink a few times to adjust your vision, your breath catches in your throat.

You let out a small gasp, “Mattttt-” you coo, your voice soft with disbelief, “it’s exactly like—”

“Our first date?” he finished, cutting you off gently, his voice filled with accomplishment. His face lit up, beaming as he hung his head,resting his chin on your shoulder, his hands slipping to your hips, holding you close from behind.

You blinked, still in awe as you took in the scene before you. A large blanket was laid out on the grass, its plaid pattern familiar. On top of it, the same exact foods you shared on that first date. There was the bunch of grapes you had made into a game of throwing into each others mouths, causing you to laugh until your bellies hurt. There was the same small fruit salad you had picked at while talking for hours, and even the same bottle of lemonade he had awkwardly spilled that day.

Every detail was perfect, right down to the basket beside it, overflowing with both of your favourite snacks. Next to it, was an enormous bouquet of flowers.

It wasn’t just a picnic—it was a memory brought to life, with even more care and thought than the first time.

Your chest tightened with emotion as you realized just how much he had remembered, how much thought had gone into recreating this moment. You could feel his heartbeat against your back as he held you, his face still resting on your shoulder, watching your reaction with quiet pride.

“You remembered everything” you whispered, almost to yourself. He let out a soft laugh, his cheek brushing against yours. “Of course I did-“ he murmured. “How could I forget?”

As your eyes flickered back over the scene, taking in every detail, It was as if time had looped back on itself, and for a moment, you were the same girl from the very first date, filled with nervous excitement, while he was the boy who made your heart race.

But today, a year later, everything felt even more profound. More real. Because now you knew each other so deeply, shared so many memories, and created a bond that was stronger than ever.

“Happy anniversary” he whispered, his voice full of love.

You turned in his arms, looking up into his eyes. “Happy anniversary” you echoed, smiling up at the man who, a year ago, had stolen your heart—and continued to make you fall for him, over and over again. A year of falling.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

MASTERLIST

taglist; @sturnobsessedwh0re @nayveetbhh @phone4pills @demzzz @dripgodnay

@sturniooolos @monroesturnns @mattsbitchh @slutforsturnioloss @pvssychicken @tsturniolo4

@brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @stvrlighht @witchofthehour @ilyttmatsa @asherrisrandom @l0ver-i

[geotjwrs]

hey hope your doin’ well bro… Can you do a Olivia Rodrigo x male reader… one were he ask her to be his girlfriend with maybe a bit of smut at the end?

kiss it better (18+)

Pairings ; Olivia Rodrigo x Male!Reader

Warning/s ; short smut

The café was one of those quiet little places that felt like a well-kept secret. Nestled away from the busy streets of Los Angeles, it had the kind of charm that made you feel like you could stay for hours, just talking, sipping on coffee, and forgetting the world outside. It was your and Olivia’s go-to spot. You’d spent countless afternoons here, laughing about anything and everything. But today felt different. There was something hanging in the air between you two—something you’d been thinking about for a long time.

Olivia sat across from you, leaning back in her chair with her arms loosely crossed, a soft smile playing on her lips. She was in one of those oversized band tees she loved wearing, paired with ripped jeans and her favorite pair of worn-out sneakers. Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, but she still looked effortlessly beautiful. She was talking about a new song she’d been working on, her eyes lighting up with excitement. You’d heard that tone in her voice before—the one where she got completely lost in her music.

“…and then the chorus just kinda hits you, like all the emotions at once, you know?” she said, waving her hands in front of her as if the music was right there between you.

You nodded, though your mind wasn’t entirely focused on the song. You couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation you wanted to have. It had been playing in your head for days, weeks even. Every time you were with Olivia, it just felt… right. And tonight, sitting here with her, the soft glow of the café lights casting a warm hue over her face, you knew you couldn’t wait any longer.

“Liv,” you started, your voice a little quieter than usual.

She paused mid-sentence, her eyes darting to yours, noticing the sudden shift in your tone. “What’s up?” she asked, the curiosity clear in her voice.

You took a breath, running a hand through your hair. “I’ve been thinking… I’ve been wanting to tell you something.”

Her eyebrows raised slightly, and she leaned forward, resting her arms on the table. “Tell me what?” she asked, her tone now softer, more attentive. The way she was looking at you—like you had her full attention—made the nerves in your chest flutter. But you had to say it. You had to get it out.

“I… I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you,” you began, stumbling a little over your words. “These past few months, hanging out, talking… It’s been amazing. But I’ve been feeling something more than just… you know, friendship.”

Olivia didn’t say anything, but you noticed the way her expression shifted ever so slightly, her eyes widening just a touch. She was waiting, hanging on your every word now.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is… I want to be more than just friends. I really like you, Olivia. A lot. And I’ve been wanting to ask you if you’d… if you’d be my girlfriend.”

The words tumbled out, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow down. The usual hum of the café’s background noise seemed to fade, leaving just you and Olivia in this small bubble of anticipation. You watched her, every second feeling like an eternity.

Her lips parted slightly, and for a second, you wondered if maybe you’d messed it up, maybe you’d misread everything between you two. But then she smiled—slowly at first, like she couldn’t quite believe what you’d just said. Her eyes softened, and she bit her lip, like she was trying to contain her excitement.

“Wait, are you serious?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, a nervous chuckle escaping you. “Yeah. I’ve been wanting to ask you for a while, but… I didn’t know if—”

“I’d love that,” she cut you off, her smile growing wider. The relief that flooded through you was immediate, and you couldn’t help but grin back at her.

“Really?” you asked, your voice a little incredulous, though you didn’t know why.

“Of course!” she laughed, standing up suddenly from her chair, her excitement overflowing. “God, I was starting to wonder when you were going to say something.”

You blinked, not sure if you’d heard her right. “Wait… you were waiting for me to ask?”

“Duh,” Olivia teased, making her way around the small table to stand in front of you. “I’ve liked you for ages, Y/N.”

Your heart skipped a beat at her words. She liked you too? This whole time? She slid into the seat beside you, her knee brushing against yours as she turned to face you fully. She was close now—closer than she’d ever been before—and the air between you felt suddenly electric.

Her hand reached for yours, her fingers intertwining with yours gently. “You have no idea how happy this makes me,” she said, her voice softer now, her smile still bright.

You could barely believe it was happening. Everything felt surreal, like you were floating. But the warmth of her hand in yours grounded you, made you realize that this moment—this perfect, intimate moment—was real.

Before you could respond, Olivia leaned in, her breath warm against your skin. Her lips hovered just inches from yours, and you could feel the tension building, the anticipation crackling in the air. You didn’t need words anymore. You closed the small gap between you, capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss.

At first, it was gentle, almost shy, as if you were both testing the waters. But then Olivia’s hand slipped to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss. Your heart pounded in your chest as you felt her body press lightly against yours, the heat between you rising with each second that passed. Her lips moved against yours, soft yet insistent, as though she’d been waiting for this as long as you had.

When you finally pulled away, your breath came in short bursts. Olivia’s eyes were dark, her cheeks slightly flushed, and her lips curved into a smirk.

“So… that was a yes, then?” you asked, your voice playful, though you were still catching your breath.

Olivia laughed softly, her fingers still tracing the back of your neck. “Yeah, I think that was a pretty solid yes.”

You leaned in again, unable to resist the pull between you two, but this time the kiss wasn’t gentle. It was heated, filled with the pent-up emotions that had been building between you both for so long. Her hands tangled in your hair, and you felt her shift, moving closer, almost on your lap now.

The café, the people, the city outside—all of it faded into the background as the world narrowed down to just the two of you. Your hands slid to her waist, pulling her flush against you, and you could feel the heat of her body through her clothes. The intensity of the moment was dizzying, and every touch sent a jolt of electricity through you.

Just as things began to blur into something more, Olivia pulled back, her forehead resting against yours. You both sat there, breathing heavily, your hearts racing, the tension thick in the air.

She looked up at you, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “We should probably get out of here before we give these people a show,” she teased, her voice low, but there was something more behind her words—a promise of what was to come.After leaving the café, you followed Olivia back to her apartment. As she unlocked the door, she turned to you and whispered, "I've been thinking about this all day." She pulled you inside and pressed her lips against yours.

Your hands explored her body as you kissed, feeling the curves of her hips and the softness of her breasts. You broke the kiss and trailed kisses down her neck, making her moan with pleasure.

Olivia led you to her bedroom and pushed you down onto the bed. She straddled you and began to grind against your growing erection. You reached up and squeezed her breasts through her shirt, causing her to gasp.

She pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it aside, revealing her lacy bra. You reached behind her and unclasped it, freeing her breasts. You took one in your mouth and sucked, making her moan even louder.

Olivia stood up and slipped out of her pants, revealing her matching lacy thong. She crawled back onto the bed and straddled you once again, this time with nothing between you.

You reached down and stroked her clit, making her wet and ready for you. She positioned herself over your cock and slowly lowered herself down onto it.

You both moaned as you felt the warmth of her pussy surrounding you. She began to ride you, grinding her hips against yours. You reached up and squeezed her breasts, causing her to moan even louder.

You flipped her over onto her back and began to thrust into her harder and faster. She wrapped her legs around your waist and pulled you deeper inside of her.

You could feel yourself getting close to climax, but you wanted to make this moment last. You slowed down your thrusts and reached down to stroke her clit.

Olivia moaned and bucked her hips, getting closer and closer to her own orgasm. You could feel her pussy tightening around your cock as she came, triggering your own release.

You collapsed onto the bed next to her, both of you panting and covered in sweat. "That was amazing," Olivia whispered, snuggling up against you.

You smiled and kissed the top of her head, already looking forward to your next intimate encounter.

[l4ndonorizz]

melancholy / carlos sainz x reader

pairing: carlos sainz x reader

song: AURORA - Daydreamer

summary: comfy night with carlos

wc: 1.3k

The soft hum of the waves crashing against the shore filled the room, the balcony doors open to let in the cool evening breeze. The sky outside was an inky canvas, dotted with stars as the last traces of the sunset disappeared into the horizon. You sat next to Carlos on the plush couch, your legs tucked beneath you, leaning slightly into his side. The remnants of dinner sat forgotten on the table, the dishes untouched as the two of you soaked in the peacefulness of the night.

Carlos, usually so full of life and energy, seemed unusually quiet tonight. His gaze was distant, fixed on the horizon where the ocean met the night sky. His face, illuminated by the faint glow of the moon, looked serene, but there was something else there too—something heavier. You’d seen it before, this side of him. The side that rarely came out in public but showed itself in these quiet, intimate moments.

The silence between you was comfortable, but thick with unspoken words. You could feel the weight of his thoughts lingering in the air, so you placed a gentle hand on his knee, feeling the warmth of him seep through the fabric of his jeans.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you asked softly, your voice breaking the quiet.

Carlos blinked, his gaze shifting to you. A small, almost wistful smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I don’t know,” he said after a pause, his voice soft and thoughtful. “I guess it’s just… it’s strange how quiet everything feels after a race. You spend the whole weekend in the chaos, the adrenaline, and then suddenly it’s just… gone.”

You nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. Racing was his life—it was in his blood, his passion—but it came with a pressure that few people could truly comprehend. The world saw Carlos Sainz Jr., the fierce competitor, the rising driver in Formula 1, but you had the privilege of seeing Carlos, the man behind the helmet.

“I can’t even imagine what that’s like,” you said softly, resting your head against his shoulder. “The highs and lows of it all.”

Carlos sighed, leaning into you. “It is. I love what I do, but sometimes it feels like there’s always something more expected of me. No matter what, I’m always ‘Carlos Sainz, the driver.’ It’s hard to be anything else.”

You shifted, sitting up slightly so you could look at him properly. The expression on his face was one you had seen a few times before, but never quite like this. In the moonlight, his strong features were softened, but there was a weight in his eyes, a depth of emotion that he didn’t often show. There was something beautiful about it, this mix of strength and vulnerability, and it made your heart ache for him.

“You know,” you said quietly, “there’s so much more to you than just being a driver. You’re this mess of mixed beauty and melancholy, Carlos. I see it in your eyes.”

His gaze snapped to yours, surprise flickering across his face. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, as if your words had caught him off guard. Then, slowly, he reached out, taking your hand in his. His thumb traced soft circles over your skin, grounding you in the moment.

“You always know the right thing to say,” he murmured, his voice carrying the weight of unspoken emotions. His eyes, dark and intense, held yours for what felt like an eternity. And in that gaze, you could see it all—the passion, the exhaustion, the hope, and the doubt. Everything that he carried with him every day, hidden from the world but laid bare for you to see. “Always,” you whispered, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “I see you, Carlos. Not just the driver, but the man behind it all. And I love both.”

A soft laugh escaped him, but there was something almost sad in it. “You know, you’re one of the few people who actually sees me like that,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Everyone else… they see the name, the race car, the victories. But with you… I feel like I don’t have to pretend.”

The vulnerability in his voice made your chest tighten. It wasn’t often that Carlos let himself open up like this, but you cherished the moments when he did. These were the moments that reminded you of why you loved him, not just for his charm or his looks, but for the depth of his heart.

“I love you,” you said softly, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. “Not because of what you do, but because of who you are.”

Carlos turned his head slightly, catching your lips with his in a gentle, lingering kiss. When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, and for a moment, the only sound was the soft rhythm of your breathing, perfectly in sync.

“I’m the lucky one,” he whispered, his breath warm against your lips. “I don’t deserve you.”

You shook your head, your heart swelling with affection. “You deserve the world, Carlos.”

For a long time, neither of you spoke, simply enjoying the quiet intimacy of the moment. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you, wrapped in each other’s warmth. The peacefulness of the night settled over you like a blanket, and for the first time in what felt like days, Carlos seemed to truly relax.

After a while, you shifted slightly, your head resting comfortably against his chest. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” he said, his voice soft but steady.

“Do you ever feel lonely? Even when you’re surrounded by people?”

Carlos hesitated, his fingers stilling against your hand. “Sometimes,” he admitted after a pause. “It’s strange, isn’t it? Being surrounded by so many people, and yet feeling like you’re on your own.”

You nodded, understanding more than you could put into words. “I know,” you said quietly. “Ligtly brushed by melancholy. It’s part of you.” you reached over, your fingers brushing his arm, grounding him in the moment. “I love this side of you.”

Carlos chuckled, his smile tinged with that quiet modesty you adored. “I don’t know about all that,” he said, a hint of self-deprecation in his tone.

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. “You don’t have to be perfect with me, Carlos. You’re enough, just as you are.”

He looked down at you, his eyes filled with that familiar warmth but also something deeper—an understanding, perhaps, or an appreciation for the simple moments that didn’t require any racing or proving himself. There was always that hint of melancholy in his gaze, like he had lived a thousand lives in the short time you’d known him.

“You always know how to make me feel better,” he murmured, his voice low as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

And in that moment, as you looked up at him, you realized that it was in those quiet moments, when his modesty and vulnerability shone through, that you loved him the most. His eyes, usually so full of intensity on the track, were now soft, open, and filled with something much deeper than words could convey.

“Your eyes,” you said quietly, “they tell me everything. Even the things you try to hide.”

Carlos smiled, his gaze never leaving yours. “That’s because you see me. The real me. You always see me,” he said, his voice filled with gratitude.

“Always,” you whispered back.

You stayed like that for the rest of the night, wrapped in each other’s presence, the world outside feeling a little less lonely because you had each other.

[love-at-first-sight-23]

Smile in the Dark- Alastor x Reader

Alastor x Fem!Reader

Plot: Alastor has never been in a true relationship with anyone, let alone the new and pretty hotel maid. But soon enough he finds he can’t wait to get his hands on you— and play a game of hide-and-seek while you’re at it.

Warnings: Smut, p in v, creampie, MDNI, slight fingering, cursing, fluff, possessive/controlling Alastor. Read at your own risk.

Alastor grinned at you from the doorway. He had asked you to come to his room that night, giving no clue as to what the invitation was for.

The two of you had known each other for months now. Ever since you had started working as a maid at the Hazbin Hotel, you had caught him staring at you once, then twice, then again. 

You remembered Vaggie’s words quite clearly—“Oh, don’t worry about Alastor. He’s just being a creepy ass as usual.” But somehow, the words didn’t quite catch. You found his demeanor charming, even intriguing. Always a gentleman— holding the door open for you, or complimenting your work. But always with an air of mystery, like an unsolved riddle. There was more to the sinner than met the eye.

Over time, you found yourself liking him more and more. After repeated interactions, you had finally asked him on a date. 

He was rather reluctant at first— the deer demon was not known for being the romantic type. But out of courtesy or an unexpected soft spot for you, you didn’t know, he had been sweet the entire time. Now you were, unofficially, dating.

“Good evening, my darling,” Alastor greeted you as you walked up to him.

“Evening, Alastor. Why did you call me here?” you asked. Alastor only chuckled.

“You’ll find out soon enough, won’t you?” Without another word he steered you into the room, hand gripping your shoulder firmly. 

The dark red and black atmosphere immediately enveloped you, the carved deer on the bedposts glared down at you through the dim glow. 

It didn’t intimidate you, though. It only reminded you of Alastor, who you were comfortable with already.

Suddenly, the lights were switched off, leaving you in complete darkness. “Alastor…?” you said, a bit uncertainly.

“Afraid of the dark, are we, now? I only want to play a little game,” Alastor leered from the darkness. You could just make out his sinister glowing grin in front of you.

Without warning, you were whisked onto the bed, legs already being spread on the mattress. You tried to gasp out something, but a finger was placed over your mouth.

“Trust me, dear. It will be more fun this way.” You felt yourself getting wet at these words. Turns out Alastor was more than just a gentleman— he was a lustful one. Your clothes disappeared in a snap, and a pair of lips were locked on your neck, sucking down on your delicate skin. Alastor’s hand made repetitive circles on your clit. You gasped at the sudden sensation, head tilting back.

Completely helpless in the dark, all you could do was anticipate what the radio demon would do next. His finger dipped inside, curling expertly and grazing your g-spot.

“Al-“ you gasped.

“Sh— quiet down and be a good little slut for me, shall we?” You obliged, little sounds escaping your mouth as his motions increased in intensity. You clutched at his chest, wishing you could see his face. As if he could read your mind, he sneered at you.

“If you want to see me, you have to be a good girl first.” You nodded, wanting nothing more than to do what he asked. You guessed a maid shouldn’t be doing this, but right now you didn’t care.

You heard the sound of him coating his shaft in your wetness, preparing himself to enter you. Little by little, he stretched you out, walls already clenching around him as you felt him digging deeper. And then he was pounding into you, tearing you up at such a merciless pace that you couldn’t help but moan out his name. 

“F-fuck, Alastor!” you whined, wanting more, more, more. He allowed you a glimpse of him as he fucked you, a flash lighting up his face and illuminating his full, magnificent features.

“So perfect for me,” he seethed. “Letting me destroy you like the little slut you are.” He grabbed your waist as he thrusted harder still, ripping an orgasm out of you that you could only describe as pure bliss.

You came on his dick, getting such a rise out of him that he could make you cum even while you couldn’t see him.

He relented enough to release inside of you, his seed filing you to the brim while his cock twitched inside of you. He pulled out slowly, your liquids dripping out of you like a perfect potion.

He lay his head on your chest, breathing raggedly. You soaked in his smell as you lay with your hair tangled, comforted by his warmth.

He kissed your lips. “We certainly must do this more often.”

“Yes,” you replied. “And… with the lights off.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed my little game.”

“I did.” A pause. “Good night, Alastor.”

“Good night, my precious.”

[mylifesjustacarousel]

bridget’s sister - part |||

pairing: james hook x fem!reader

summary: part three of bridget’s sister!

type: angst, angst, angst

CW: bullying

WC: 1.9K

part 1 | part 2 | not proofread!

“YOU!”

You felt your blood run cold as you heard the mean queen herself stomp towards you, her crew following close behind. She had made it very clear that she didn’t want you anywhere near James, but could she really blame you? Hook tightened his grip on you. “I told you to leave her alone, Uli.”

“She’s bad news, Hook. You’re going to destroy your reputation. Our reputation. It’s her, a girl you just met… or us.” Uliana growled, her eyes shooting daggers at you. Hook rolled his eyes. “You’re not serious. I’m not going to choose between you, that’s crazy.”

You stayed silent while they argued, Hook’s grip on you never faltering. You wanted to just pounce and knock some sense into Uliana, but you knew that you were outnumbered. Unbeknownst to you, Hook’s heart was almost beating out of his chest. Despite his calm and collected appearance, he was furious. He loved his friends, but there was absolutely no way that he was going to actually choose.

“Uliana…” you mumbled.

“Uliana!” she mocked, rolling her eyes. “You think you’re so perfect. You think you can get whatever you want, right? Well, guess what? Life isn’t fair!” she spat. You shook your head. “You’re overreacting, it doesn’t have to be like this, Uli.”

“Shut it! Hook, her or us? The friends who took you in when you had nothing.” she asked, the rest of the group surrounding her to hear his answer. “Or the little princess who probably spelled you to get what she wants?”

“I’m not choosing, Uliana. You’re being ridiculous.”

“I guess it’s decided then. You’re pathetic. You’re weak. Once again, you’re nothing.”

“I don’t want you to lose your friends over this, James!”

You were pacing around his room, your hands nervously fidgeting with the ends of your hair. Hook sighed, watching you from his bed. “Darling, this isn’t something for you to worry about. If she’s going to be this way, then I don’t want her in my life.”

“But she’s your friend.” you huffed. “As much as I hate her, I don’t want to take your friends away from you. That’s not fair.” He got up, sauntering over to you. “I love how much you care, but it’s not worth it.” He cupped your cheeks, placing a delicate kiss on your lips. You closed your eyes, letting his touch melt your worries away. “I just don’t want you to be alone. I know how that feels…”

“I have you, so I’m not alone. I’m okay, I promise.” He pulled you over to his bed, sitting down with you. “If anyone tries to cross me, or you, I have a plank for them to walk.”

The two of you looked over at the door when you heard the handle jiggle. The door opened, Morgie walking in. You forgot that the two of them shared a room. Morgie stopped in his tracks, a surprised look on his face. “Hey, y/n! Hey, Hook. Uliana said that I’m not supposed to talk to you right now...” He went to his side of the room, setting his stuff down.

“Tell Uliana that this is insane, Morgie!” you exclaimed. Morgie sat down on his bed, avoiding Hook’s gaze. “I don’t see the problem with the two of you. I think you’re pretty cool. But, Uliana is my friend, so…”

You smiled a little bit, looking over at the serpent boy. You had a class with Morgie previously, and he was nothing but a sweetheart. It was a shame that his closest friends were so… evil. “I appreciate it, Morgie. You’re cool too.”

Hook laid back on his bed, grabbing your hand and making you lay down next to him. “I’m going to figure this out, alright?” he whispered. “I will not let her lay a single finger, or tentacle, on you.” You rolled your eyes playfully, laying your head on his chest. “I like this protective side of you. It’s sweet.”

“I’m a pirate, darling. We’re protective of our treasure.”

“Shut up, James.”

“So, they’re not friends anymore?” Ella asked. You were sat with Bridget and Ella in your room. Well, they were sat. You were pacing around the room like you were training for a marathon. “I don’t even know! I feel terrible, those are his friends! Morgie wouldn’t even talk to him the other day! Morgie! He talks to everyone!”

Ella looked up at you. “Why is it so bad? You two are together, you have Uliana off of your backs… seems like a win-win situation to me.” Huffing, you sat down next to the girls. “That’s the thing, there’s no way that she’s just letting this go. I don’t know what, but she’s planning something. She wouldn’t let him go that easily.”

“How’s he handling all of this? Hook?” Bridget asked. You sighed, looking over at her. “He says that he’s fine, but I can tell that it’s bothering him. He… has a very hard time showing how he feels. Ugh, this sucks! It’s all my fault too!” Bridget wrapped her arms around you, hugging you close. “Buttercup, it’s not your fault. You’re not at fault for loving someone, that’s crazy.”

“I just want all of this to stop, B.”

“Uliana will get over it eventually. But, it doesn’t matter what she thinks. Hook chose you, he clearly loves you.” Your eyes widened and you pulled away from Bridget. “Woah, woah. Let’s not go and throw around the ‘L’ word, I mean we’ve only been together for, like, a week.” you laughed nervously, feeling your palms get sweaty.

Love was tricky for you. You craved it more than anything, but you also tried to stay away from it out of fear of rejection. If you kept your distance, you couldn’t get your feelings hurt. But, there was something about him. He cared about you, and he made you feel like the most special girl alive. There was no way that he loved you, though. It was too soon.

“I mean, I really really like him though.” you sighed. “He’s not perfect, by any means-”

“That’s harsh.” Ella teased, gently nudging your shoulder. You rolled your eyes. “You didn’t let me finish! He’s not perfect, but he’s so… special. Even when I doubted him, he went out of his way to prove that he could be trusted. I just… I like him a lot, and I don’t want to ruin things.”

“Well he lo- likes you a lot too. I wouldn’t worry about it, alright?” Ella smiled, running a hand through your hair.

“Okay… But, I still don’t trust Uliana. She’s plotting something.”

“He’s so ugh!” Uliana huffed, kicking a rock in front of her as she made her way to the Black Lagoon. “I do so much for him, and this is how I get treated?” Hades rolled his eyes, walking behind her with Maleficent. “You’re just mad that you didn’t get a chance with him.”

“That little princess does not always get to get her way!” She turned around, glaring at Hades. “We need to do something about this. She thinks that she can act like some sort of peace monger, her and her prissy sister.”

Hades put his hands up. “I am not doing anything about this. Hook is stubborn, he gets what he wants.”

“Well, I get what I want. I don’t care who gets hurt, we’re gonna teach that princess a lesson. Let’s go.” Uliana led them into her lair, going over to the platform in the middle of the room where her cauldron was. “We need to conjure up the perfect revenge.”

“This is a bad idea, Uliana.” Hades called out. Uliana whipped her head around “I’m sorry, do you want to join him in being an outcast? I didn’t think so.”

“Uliana!” A voice called out.

Hook walked into the lair, an angry look on his face. “I don’t care what you think about me, but you need to leave her alone. She did nothing to you.” Uliana smirked, walking over to him. “Is Hook suddenly too good for a little mischief? What about those kids that you made, y’know, walk the plank?” Hook looked around, almost avoiding her gaze. “That’s different, and you know it.”

“Is it?” she questioned. “I don’t think they did anything to you, James-y. You’ve changed, she made you weak. We are supposed to be feared. Nobody is going to fear us if you have a pink ray of sunshine wrapped around your finger.” She walked back over to her cauldron. “I think it’s time for you to go back to your roots and remember who you really are. You’re a pirate, a vicious one, act like one.”

“Uli, stop it. You know you’re being ridiculous.”

“No, I don’t think I will. In fact, I think I just found the most perfect revenge.”

It was two days later, and you hadn’t seen Hook at all. Not in class, not in his room, nowhere. Hook had taken a liking to greeting you at your door every single morning to walk you to your first class, so it was a big surprise when you opened your door the morning before and he wasn’t there. Opening your door, you sighed as Hook wasn’t there… again. You shut your door behind you, begrudgingly making your way to your first class. You were worried sick, a constant pit of anxiety in your stomach. Something was off.

On your way to your class, you bumped into someone, forcing you to fall onto the ground. “Hey! Watch where you’re going!” you exclaimed as the figure walked past you. You turned your head, your eyes almost popping out of it when you saw who it was.

“James?”

He turned around, a disgusted look on his face. “Maybe keep your eyes on the sidewalk, lass. You’re not the only person on the planet.” Your heart absolutely dropped. He had never talked to you like that before. “James, what is wrong with you?” You got up, going over to him. “I didn’t see you at all yesterday, what happened? Are you upset about the whole Uliana thing?”

“I chose. Uliana is right, we just met. People fear me, I can’t be seen with someone like you.” Hook scoffed, looking offended that you were even talking to him. Tears threatened to spill out of your eyes, your throat feeling like it was about to close up. “Someone… like me? Hook, what does that even mean? What’s happening? What did Uliana do to you?”

He rolled his eyes, his hook coming up and catching under your chin so you were looking him in the eye. “Uliana didn’t do anything to me. Do I have to spell it out for you, darling? I don’t want to be with you. We’re done here. Besides, you were right. You’re inexperienced, you’re lame. We don’t work.”

“We don’t work?” you asked.

Tears rolled down your cheeks like rain as he spoke, your bottom lip quivering as a sob threatened to escape your mouth. It was like someone took your heart and beat it to death with a hammer. “James… I’m sorry if I did something, I thought we were okay. You- you said that everything was fine! I’m sorry!”

“Hook, let’s go!”

You looked over, seeing the VKs standing there. Uliana walked over to you, the fakest smile ever on her face. “Oh, darling. Dry those tears, it’s… for the best. Now, let’s go, Hook.” Hook looked at you, the look of admiration and love in his eyes now gone. It was now replaced with one of vitriol and hatred.

You quickly wiped your tears away, watching your boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend, walk away with the rest of the VKs. You couldn’t even believe what had happened. The person who you thought cared for you just stomped on your heart.

What just happened?

a/n: HAHAHA pt 4 coming soon. i love a good cliffhanger, you should’ve known that it was coming. i’m sorry that it was a little short, but this series will go out with a bang, i promise <3

taglist: @skellseerwriting @sleepyking @ljaylmaoo @lesbpotmurdocklokistan @yokolesbianism @eretsupremacy89 @descendantsramblings @thegoddessofnothingness

[simplygojo]

The Devil He Made Me - Ch. 6

Authors Note: Finally got this chapter out...I hope y'all enjoy bc shit is about to get real as fuck. As always, please let me know your thoughts by commenting or sending me a message, I appreciate any and lal feedback.oh and don't forget, I LOVE Y'ALL <3

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f/reader

Series Summary : After being found by Gojo and his first year students in a sticky situation, y/n joins Jujutsu High under the close supervision of Gojo. As time passes, the two of you become close, with a strong unspoken bond forming as you work together. Although, there is something dark looming over the situation, and those at Jujutsu High are determined to get to the bottom of it, before it is too late.

Chapter Summary : After battling with multiple special grade curses, y/n spends some time in the hospital so Shoko can run some tests to get to the bottom of the burning question: what was that cursed energy? With all of these thoughts swirling around y/n's head, she decides to discuss the incident with Gojo.

Taglist: @mawhoreagaa; @peqch-pie; @blue-serendipity; @simplyyyuji; @starrnai; @sorcerersseestars; @n1vi; @angryglitterperfection; @krak-jj; @coweringbear; @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni; @cococola-cocaine; If you'd like to be added to the taglist, leave a comment to let me know :)

Word Count : 5.5k

Warnings : mention of injuries, swearing, some tensions, mention of d*eath...

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The familiar scent of antiseptic filled your nose as you slowly blinked your eyes open. The soft whirring and sporadic beeping of machines and the gentle hum of the infirmary's lights gradually came into focus. It took a moment for you to remember where you were—Jujutsu High, the infirmary. You tried to sit up, but a deep ache in your muscles pulled you back down, reminding you of the battle just days before.

You had been unconscious for just over a day, but the soreness that clung to your body was a fading echo of what it had been. Shoko had healed most of your injuries, and while your body still felt heavy, you were no longer in a significant amount of pain.

A subtle shifting caught your attention, and you turned your head to see Gojo sitting at your bedside.

His long legs were stretched out lazily in front of him, his chair tipped back on two legs in that effortlessly casual way only he could pull off. A playful smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he noticed you stirring.

He wore an off-white button-up shirt, simple and unassuming, and somehow looked better on him than it had any right to. The way it fit him—just snug enough at the shoulders, but loose enough to give him that carefree look to match his attitude.

And then there are those sunglasses, the ones that should be ridiculous indoors, yet on him, they work—like a signature mark of his unbothered confidence. Even with half of his face hidden behind those tinted lenses, you can still see his piercing blue eyes.

"Hey there, Sleeping Beauty," he greeted, his voice smooth and teasing, eyes glinting behind his sunglasses. "I was starting to think you'd be out for another day. But I guess you're a bit too stubborn for that, huh?"

You managed a weak laugh, the dryness in your throat making it raspy. Gojo tilted his head—as though studying your face.

"You know," he began, his grin widening, "even unconscious, you’re still causing me all kinds of trouble. What am I going to do with you?"

His teasing tone, paired with the playful glint in his eyes, pulled another laugh from you, this one a bit stronger, though your body still felt heavy. Gojo straightened, his chair landing back on all four legs with a soft thud, before he placed a familiar white pastry box on your lap.

"I brought you a cookie," he said, and as your eyes focused, you recognized the familiar logo from the last pastry box he had got you about a week ago.

“Hmmm, am I having deja vu?” You said teasingly, although your voice was weak.

Propping yourself up with a few pillows, you opened the box to reveal the single chocolate chip cookie—just like the one he'd given you before. "Thought you might want something sweet when you woke up."

His expression softened as he studied your face, his bright blue eyes watching you carefully.

You didn’t even try to stifle the grin that slowly crept onto your face. “You know, you’ve never even asked me if I like sweets.” You teased, a warm feeling growing in your chest.

Gojo rolled his eyes, “These sweets are too good not to like, y/n.” He argued in response, to which you gave him a stern look, and he sighed dramatically. “Fine. Do you like sweets?” He said reluctantly, and you smiled wider in response to his obvious annoyance.

“Yes, I do…they’re my favourite.” You said, picking up the cookie and taking a bite. “This is too good not to like…wow.” You said, covering your mouth, as it was still full with cookie.

Gojo laughed, “I am always right.” There was something different about the way he looked at you now—something gentler than before, more concerned.

You decided to finally ask the burning question, “Gojo, what… happened?”

His expression shifted, the playful mask slipping just enough for you to catch a glimpse of the worry underneath. He leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his tosseled white hair as he sighed.

"You don't remember?" His tone was light, but there was a seriousness in his eyes that made your stomach twist. “You and the students were fighting that special-grade curse, remember? You… well, things got a little out of hand.”

The memories started trickling back, one by one. The battlefield, the pressure of cursed energy crushing you from every side. You remembered fighting off duplicates of the curse—one after another—until something snapped. A rush of power unlike anything you'd ever felt before surged through you, dark and overwhelming. The blue energy you had trained so hard to control had been replaced by something else, something foreign and dark.

“Oh, yeah I remember now…Sorry, I’m a little dazed,” you whispered, the weight of the realization hitting you like a truck. “How were there that many special-grade curses there? I thought you said the mission was just one special grade?”

Gojo leaned back in his chair, his arms crossing over his chest as he watched you closely. The playful mask he usually wore was still there, but his eyes, ever sharp and knowing, held a depth that unsettled you. “That’s the thing,” he replied, his voice softer now. “It wasn’t just one special-grade curse, it was multiple—each one a fragment of something larger. They were working in sync.”

The pit in your stomach deepened. You could recall the feeling of being surrounded, the sheer number of cursed spirits far more than you had anticipated. It was no wonder you’d been overwhelmed. “Shoko said she found something strange when she was healing you.”

You frowned, shifting slightly in the bed. “Strange? Like what?”

He hesitated for a moment, his typical lighthearted attitude shifting to a more earnest demeanour. “There’s another cursed energy inside you. Different from the normal cursed energy you’ve been using.”

The weight of his words hit you hard, and you felt your heart start to race.

Another cursed energy? How was that possible? You looked at Gojo, searching for answers, but his expression gave little away. "What does that mean for me?" You asked, your voice wavering slightly.

Gojo leaned back again, his eyes narrowing in thought. “We don’t know yet. That’s why Shoko's keeping an eye on you, and I…” He trailed off, his gaze lingering on you before looking up at the ceiling. “I’m going to be here every step of the way, whether you like it or not."

Before you could respond, the infirmary door slid open, and Shoko entered with her usual calm, unbothered air. She glanced between you and Gojo before speaking.

“Oh, good. You’re awake,” she said with a small smile. “I was starting to wonder if you were going to sleep through the whole week.”

You managed a faint grin as she approached your bed. Shoko pulled out her clipboard, her eyes scanning the notes she had taken while healing you. After a moment, she looked up and met your gaze, her expression turning serious.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” she said, her voice low. “When I was healing you, I noticed something unusual. Your cursed energy… it wasn’t just the blue-hued energy you usually produce.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Gojo had mentioned this already, but hearing it from Shoko felt different. More real.

“There’s another source of cursed energy inside you,” Shoko continued, her brow furrowing slightly. “I don’t know how or why, and I can’t see anything on the tests I’ve done, but it’s there, and it’s separate from your own cursed energy. It’s… dark.”

You stared at her, stunned. Another source of power? But how? Why now?

“What does that mean?” You asked quietly, the weight of her words pressing down on your chest.

Shoko shook her head, her expression unreadable. “I’m not sure. And we don’t know how it got there, but its foreign. We’ll have to run some more tests to figure it out. But for now, you need to be careful. That power—whatever it is—could be dangerous if you don’t learn to control it.”

Gojo gave you a reassuring smile, though there was something sharp behind his usual cocky expression. “Don’t worry Shoko. You’ll figure it out. Plus, y/n has me as her teacher, after all. You know better than anything that I am the strongest.”

His words should have comforted you, or at least made you laugh—but the uncertainty gnawed at the back of your mind.

What the hell is wrong with me?

—

You stayed in the infirmary for a few more days while Shoko ran some tests. It was all routine at first, just performing tests on your cursed energy levels, helping you heal some of those stubborn wounds with her reverse cursed technique.

As the days passed and you grew more comfortable around Shoko, your conversations took on a lighter tone. You had expected her to be more distant, but she had a subtle, dry sense of humor that made you laugh, even in your exhausted state.

On the second evening, as Shoko finished up another round of tests, she pulled a chair up beside your bed, setting her clipboard down. “You’re healing well,” she said, her usual neutral tone softened. “We’ll have you out of here soon, hopefully.”

You smiled faintly. “Thanks, Shoko. It’s been kind of nice getting to know you more.”

She raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “Don’t get too used to it. I’m not that interesting.”

You chuckled. “Somehow, I doubt that. You’ve got to have some stories, being friends with Gojo and all.”

Shoko leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “Oh, Gojo? Yeah, there are plenty of stories, most of which are probably better off unsaid.”

Your curiosity piqued. “Come on, I’m stuck in bed here! Give me something. How was he back then?”

She sighed in mock reluctance before a small smile spread across her face. “Alright, alright. There was one time… Well, this was back when Gojo and—” Shoko hesitated for a second, her expression darkening slightly, but she quickly recovered. “—when Gojo and his best friend were still students here. His name was Geto Suguru.”

“Geto?” you repeated, unfamiliar with the name. “I don’t think I’ve heard of him.”

Shoko’s eyes softened a little, and for a moment, there was a quiet sadness in them. “Yeah, you wouldn’t have. Suguru was… He and Gojo were like brothers. They used to be inseparable.”

You blinked, surprised. It was hard to imagine Gojo having a best friend—someone close enough to understand him on that level. “What happened to him?”

Shoko looked down for a moment, her voice becoming more sombre. “It’s… complicated. Let’s just say he took a different path. It’s not something Gojo talks about much, but they were close. Closer than anyone would think.”

There was a brief silence between the two of you, the weight of her words sinking in. You could feel the layers of history, the unspoken grief in Shoko’s tone, and it made you wonder just how much Gojo had buried beneath that playful exterior.

Shoko cleared her throat, shaking off the mood. “But, anyway. Gojo’s always been the same—cocky, infuriatingly powerful, and completely insufferable when he’s right. There was this one time he convinced Suguru and me to sneak into the teachers’ lounge at night because he wanted to prank Yaga. Nearly got us all expelled.”

You laughed softly, trying to picture a younger Gojo pulling off one of his infamous schemes. “I’m guessing it didn’t go as planned?”

“Not at all. Yaga caught us halfway through. Gojo had rigged this ridiculous trap to dump confetti on him when he opened the door, but instead, it went off on us. We were covered in glitter for days.” Shoko shook her head with an amused smile. “Suguru was so mad. I thought he was going to kill Gojo right then and there.”

You laughed at the image, imagining a flustered Gojo trying to explain himself with confetti raining down around him. It was hard to reconcile the carefree man you knew now with the version of him Shoko described—someone who had once had a deep bond with someone else, someone who had experienced loss.

“Do you think he misses him?” You asked quietly, the question escaping before you could stop yourself.

Shoko looked at you for a moment, her gaze thoughtful. “I think he does, in his own way. Gojo doesn’t like to talk about the things that hurt him. He hides behind that grin of his, but… yeah. I think he does.”

You nodded, feeling a pang of empathy for the man who had become such an enigmatic figure in your life. Maybe there was more to him than just the confident, teasing exterior. Maybe, beneath it all, Gojo carried his own burdens, just like the rest of them.

Shoko stood up, stretching her arms over her head. “Alright, that’s enough reminiscing for now. You rest up, and if you’re lucky, maybe I’ll tell you more embarrassing Gojo stories tomorrow.”

“Looking forward to it,” you said with a grin, feeling a bit lighter despite the heaviness of the conversation.

As Shoko left the room, you couldn’t help but think about the person Gojo used to be, and how much of that was still hidden beneath the surface.

—

Once you had recovered fully, you found yourself training harder than ever before, trying to tap into this newfound source of energy. Gojo, ever the confident mentor, pushed you to your limits, testing how far you could go before the black energy resurfaced.

At first, it was difficult—frustrating, even. The black energy was slippery, elusive, always just out of reach until it wasn’t. But with each passing day, you felt it more clearly, a flicker of something cold and sharp beneath your usual warmth of cursed energy.

Megumi, Yuji, and Nobara were a constant source of support for you, and they really didn’t need to be—but they wanted to help. Whether it was their own curiosity or the friendship you had developed over the past month, they stuck around.

Training with them made the days more bearable, and their playful banter helped ease the tension that weighed on your shoulders.

One afternoon, you found yourself sparring with Yuji while Nobara and Megumi sat on the sidelines, doing some homework for another class they had. Yuji, ever the ball of energy, was throwing everything he had into the match, but even he couldn’t help but crack jokes between strikes.

“C’mon, y/n, is that all you got?” he teased, dodging one of your kicks with ease.

You grinned despite the sweat dripping down your face. “Just wait. I’m holding back so I don’t embarrass you.”

“Like that’s possible, you were just unconscious for a day, y/n. Don’t get cocky!” Nobara sarcastically scoffed from the sidelines, earning a chuckle from Megumi, who was trying to hide his amusement.

The laughter and camaraderie between the four of you made the discovery of this dark energy less daunting, and the uncertainty less frightening. You felt supported—more than ever before. But even with all the training, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.

‘How did I get here?’ You thought while grabbing some water during a short training break. It’s not like you could answer that question; you still have next to no memories of your life before this—before discovering jujutsu sorcery.

You had no clue what you were doing here, but you knew you had very little choice in being here, it was all you knew now. You just had to do your best.

The black energy inside you was growing stronger, more insistent. But you wanted answers now, living in a constant state of unknown was becoming unbearable.

—

In the days following, you recalled scenes from the battle with the special grade curses. One of the curse's words replayed in your mind like a broken record. Each time you tried to push it away, the memory clawed its way back, gnawing at the edges of your thoughts.

As you sat alone in your room, your hands idly tracing the bandages still wrapped around your torso, the curse’s voice echoed: "Do you feel it…It's almost time for you."

You couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that came with those words. What had it meant? Why had it focused on you, singling you out with such terrifying precision?

Before being found by Gojo, I had never been around curses…right?

—

Later that evening, as the sun melted into the horizon, bathing the school grounds in an orange glow, you crossed paths with Gojo again. His usual carefree grin was firmly in place, but by now, you knew better—that smile often masked something deeper.

He stood leaning against one of the chainlink fences just outside the outdoor training grounds; his blindfold was nowhere to be seen and was replaced by a pair of dark grey rectangle-shaped shades.

It was after teaching hours, so Gojo wore his casual clothes: just an oversized black long-sleeved shirt—though it seems he had cut the neckline, as it exposed more of his collarbone than a normal shirt would, paired with some grey sweatpants.

For whatever reason, whether it be your newfound appreciation for life after nearly dying, you got a warm feeling in your chest (and between your legs) when you saw him. ‘Does he always look this good?’ You thought to yourself as you waltzed up to him, interrupting his concentration on whatever video he was watching on his phone.

“Hey,” you called out, your voice softer than usual. The fading light caught in his messy white hair, making it shimmer, and he turned his head towards you with a raised brow, his curiosity piqued.

“Hey there, walking all by yourself?” He teased, provoking you to roll your eyes with an amused smile. “Thought it was a better idea than walking with you.” You said, biting back at his quip. He let out a laugh and slid his phone into the pocket of his sweats.

“You think you’re funny now? Good lordd…What’s on your mind, y/n?” He asked, sensing the weight of your thoughts.

Despite your humorous banter, his expression shifted—he could tell you were troubled.

You hesitated, biting the inside of your cheek as you tried to find the right words. “Well, I’ve been thinking…that one curse during the battle… it said something. You were there. It talked about it being ‘almost time for me.’” Your eyes searched his, which were barely covered by those sunglasses, needing to know if he had any answers. “What do you think that meant?”

For a moment, his smile faltered. Barely noticeable, but you caught it. He took a slow breath, his hands slipping into his pockets as he stepped closer, the space between you narrowing.

“I’ve been thinking about that too,” he admitted, his tone more serious than usual. “Curses don’t talk just to talk, especially not special grades. I hate to say it, but they’re smart—they know things.” His eyes softened as they locked onto yours, his concern noticeable.

The cryptic warning from the curse still hung heavy in the air, and despite Gojo’s presence, the unease gnawed at you—it had been gnawing at you since you regained consciousness. You wanted to lean into Gojo’s usual lightheartedness, let it wash away the fear creeping up on you, but tonight, it wasn’t enough to quiet the storm brewing inside.

“Why me?” You muttered, mostly to yourself. “Why was it focused on me?” Despite your attempts to stifle your fear, you couldn’t stop your voice from shaking when you spoke.

His grin faded, replaced by a more thoughtful expression as he sat down on a nearby bench. He leaned back slightly, hands still in his pockets, the playful mask he usually wore slipping just enough for you to see the worry beneath it. “Y/n,” he said softly, motioning for you to take a seat beside him, and you followed his motion.

“Curses sense things in people, sometimes for a reason, sometimes because they catch on to something we don’t even realize. But this… was definitely not random.”

A chill ran down your spine. “So what do you think it meant then…when it said it’s ‘almost time for me’?”

Gojo's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than usual, and his blue eyes, usually so carefree, held something deeper now as they looked into yours—an intensity that made your breath hitch. He leaned back on the bench, tilting his head toward the darkening sky, as if searching the sky for the right thing to say.

The orange glow of the setting sun illuminated the chiselled features of his face, and you couldn’t stop your thoughts, ‘God, he looks good.’ It was that moment, waiting for Gojo’s reply, when you realized how close the two of you really were, your legs practically touching as you sat beside each other.

“I wish I knew,” he said after a pause, his voice quieter than usual, almost…gentle. "But what I do know is that curses don't just say things for no reason. Especially not special grades like that. Something’s up."

You sat down beside him, feeling the space between you shrink, though neither of you touched. The warmth from his body seemed to seep into the small gap, but there was an undercurrent of tension, something unspoken yet real in the air between you. His presence was normally a comfort, but tonight, it felt different. Almost charged.

He turned his head slightly, and his eyes met yours again—but this time his gaze was steady, unwavering. “Whatever it saw in you,” he continued, his tone low and serious, “you really don’t need to worry about it—you shouldn’t worry about it at least.”

Your pulse quickened at the way he said it, so casual yet laced with empathy and care. But you were unsatisfied with his answer.

Did he actually just say that to me after I almost died?

“You’re really telling me not to worry!?” You said, feeling the emotions in you start to bubble up within you. “Not to worry? Really Satoru?! I have next to no memories of my life, I suddenly woke up in a forest, surrounded by creepy-ass-curses, and nowww you jujutsu-people want me to fight them!” Your voice raised subconsciously as your emotions continued to rise up in you.

“Not to mention I almost died last week, and while I was in the middle of ‘almost-dying,’ a special grade curse practically threatened me—me personally! And you are sitting here telling me not to fucking worry?!” By then end of this you were practically out of breathfrom the volume of your voice.

“And you know what-” Before you could continue, you were cut off. “I don’t like it when you say it like that.” He said barely above a whisper, his voice sounding almost…sad? You could feel his eyes wandered between yours, searching and darting back and forth. “What the hell are you talking about?” You snapped, still frustrated and heated from your rant.

“My name,” he said softly, his eyes not shifting from yous. “I don’t like it when you said my name in such an angry voice.” Immediately, your frustration was gone, and your expression resembled that of a dear in headlights.

“Satoru?” You said, your head tilting to the side a bit, reflecting the confusion you felt.

“Yes, when you’ve said it before, you said it so nicely, so softly, it sounded so good hearing my name come from you.”

His words hung in the air between you, soft yet cutting, and your heart stuttered at the unexpected vulnerability in them.

You opened your mouth, but no words came out, his confession leaving you at a loss for words. It was a side of Gojo you had never seen—one that wasn't hidden behind his usual cocky smirk or casual confidence.

The air around you seemed to shift, thickening with a tension you couldn't quite place. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as the weight of his gaze held yours, his eyes searching your face, as if trying to find something in you that you weren’t even sure you could give.

“I…” You faltered, your earlier anger dissipating into confusion, but something else lingered beneath the surface—something deeper. Your pulse quickened again, not from frustration but from the strange sensation creeping up your spine.

Gojo’s eyes softened, and though he hadn’t moved closer, the space between you felt significantly smaller. “I get it, y/n. I know all of this is… a lot for you, for anyone.” He said quietly, practically mumbling. “I know things are uncertain and terrifying, but you’re not in this alone.”

The sincerity in his voice cut through the storm of thoughts in your head, leaving you feeling exposed—raw.

You wanted to stay angry, wanted to hold on to that frustration because it was easier than the vulnerability you felt creeping in.

But with the way he was looking at you now—steady, unwavering, almost tender—you felt something inside you waver. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t break the eye contact the two of you held; it was like some external force was interfereing.

Gojo’s expression shifted, the usual teasing smile nowhere in sight. His hand reached out, hesitating for just a moment before gently resting just above your knee. His touch was warm, grounding, and that warm tingly feeling began to creep back in.

“I’m telling you not to worry because, I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said quietly, and the blatant seriousness in his voice sent a shiver through you.

There was something unstated in the way he said it, something more than just a promise of protection. It was intimate, a layer of meaning underneath his words that you weren’t sure you were ready to acknowledge.

You looked up at him, your breath catching as you realized how close he was now, his hand still resting gently on your thigh, his eyes locked on yours.

You could feel the heat radiating off him, his presence overwhelming in a way that wasn’t just comforting—it was something else entirely. Something that made your pulse race for a reason.

“Satoru…” you whispered, his name falling from your lips—softly this time, as it did naturally.

His expression stayed mostly unchanged, but you could’ve sworn his eyes widened, just a fraction, in response.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the tension between you thick and palpable. You could feel it—the unspoken pull—the way your heart ached.

The way his gaze dropped to your lips for the briefest second before flicking back up to your eyes, made a heat begin to pool between your legs.

The air around you was charged, and your mind drifted to how easy it would be to just close that distance, to let whatever this was finally spill over and consume you.

Gojo’s hand tightened ever so slightly on your lower thigh, his thumb brushing against your skin in a way that sent a jolt of electricity through your body. His voice was low, almost a whisper when he spoke again, and oh boy you were not prepared for what words left his lips next. “Say my name like that again,” he murmured, “Please, y/n.”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to disappear, the only thing that mattered was the space between you and him, and the feeling that, if you took just one step closer, everything would change.

"Satoru, I…" Your voice was breathless, almost as if saying his name had taken something from you, pulling you closer to a line neither of you dared to cross.

But just when it felt like you were teetering on that line, your nerves took over. “Thanks for your help,” you blurted, your legs shifting away form him, breaking the contact between his hand and your skin. The moment, electric and intimate, cooled almost instantly.

Gojo blinked a few times, his hand falling to his side, the intensity of the moment fading as you harshly forced the distance back between you. “I’ll try not to worry, like you said…” You continued awkwardly.

He exhaled softly, and that smartass smile returned to his pretty face once again. "Right… You never have to worry when you’re around me. I’m the best the jujutsu world has to offer." He teased, his voice returning to its usual casualness.

You stood up, looking down at him as you stood in front if him. “Well, I’m gonna get going, Shoko says I should still be resting when I can.” You said, gesturing to the directions of the dorms, and Gojo just nodded in response, leaning back against the bench again, his arms spread over the length of it, his eyes looking up at you—and you were standing so pretty in front of him.

“Goodnight, Satoru.” You said with knowing smile, your gaze lingering for a bit too long befor eturning around and walking back towards the school.

—

The room was thick with tension as the leaders of Jujutsu society sat around the large oak table, their expressions grim. The clan leaders, flanked by stern-faced assistants, wore the air of authority and tradition, while Principal Gakuganji sat at the head, his face as cold and unyielding as ever. The atmosphere was stifling, the weight of the conversation about to unfold already heavy in the air.

Yaga stood off to the side, arms crossed, his face betraying his frustration. Utahime sat beside him, her brow furrowed, glancing between the higher-ups with a mixture of disbelief and quiet anger.

"Principal Gakuganji," the leader of the Kamo clan spoke first, his voice even and measured. "It has come to our attention that there are certain… disturbing developments regarding y/n y/l/n."

The leader of the Zen’in clan, Naobito, gave a snort, his arms resting lazily across his chest. “Disturbing is an understatement.”

Gakuganji leaned forward slightly, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the table. "Explain."

The Kamo clan leader continued, casting a disapproving glance toward Yaga and Utahime. "It appears that a certain conversation between two first-year students at the Tokyo school—Itadori and Kugisaki—was overheard. They were discussing a special-grade curse y/n encountered during a recent mission." He paused, letting the implication settle before continuing. "The curse in question reportedly said something about it being 'almost time' for her."

Naobito’s eyes gleamed with a predatory smirk. “A fucking ticking time bomb. That’s what she is.”

Utahime tensed beside Yaga, fists clenching under the table. She opened her mouth to speak, but Yaga beat her to it. "This is ridiculous," Yaga snapped, his voice firm but controlled. "You're basing this entire accusation on what? Something a curse said during battle? That's not enough to—"

"It’s more than enough," Naobito interrupted, his voice sharp, dismissive. “Special grade curses don’t make empty threats. They know what they’re sensing. If a curse says something is 'almost time' for her, that means she’s a threat.”

“She’s already unleashed an unknown cursed energy,” the Kamo clan leader added. "A power even Gojo Satoru hasn’t been able to fully identify or control. Not that he is even trying. That in itself is dangerous enough. She’s unpredictable. Unstable."

Gakuganji’s fingers stilled, his gaze shifting toward Yaga. “And from what we’ve seen… she could be harboring a greater threat. We cannot allow an unknown force like this to develop under our noses. We must act before it becomes too late.”

“Act?” Utahime’s voice rose, incredulous. “You’re going to condemn her for something she hasn’t even done yet? For something none of you fully understand? This is insane!”

Gakuganji’s steely gaze flickered toward Utahime, his expression unreadable. "This is not a decision taken lightly. We understand the complexity of the situation. But the safety of the Jujutsu world cannot be compromised by unknowns."

“She’s an unknown that Gojo Satoru himself is monitoring!” Yaga countered, his voice rising. “Do you really think he would put the entire school at risk for someone he didn’t trust? He’s been training her personally.”

Naobito’s lip curled in a sneer. “And yet, even Gojo can’t seem to keep her under control. And he doesn’t seem to be doing anything about the threat either, that jack-ass…”

The third clan leader finally spoke up. His tone was measured, but there was no mistaking the finality in his words. “She is too much of a risk. An unknown factor in an already unstable world. We cannot afford to wait and see what this cursed energy inside her might become.”

Yaga took a step forward, hands slamming down on the table. "You're talking about a student! A human being! Not some weapon you can discard when it suits you."

“We’ve made our decision,” Gakuganji said, his voice flat.

“For the safety of all sorcerers and the entire country, y/n y/l/n is to be executed by the end of the week.”

[redsrooftopprincess]

Assassin Part 2

Fem reader x Raphael

Warnings: alcohol/drunkenness

Part 1

The wedding had been beautiful, and the reception was a blast. But now the party was beginning to thin as guests made their way to their lodgings for the night, and you've been watching them them leave from your place on the front steps of the main house.

The benefit of having a wedding on property you own is that you don't really have to clean up all that much until morning. As such, you've been posted here, making your way steadily through your own personal bottle of champagne, for the last hour.

You take a long draw from the bottle before setting it back down. Things had been going so well.

You look up when a shadow falls over the moon.

"Oh, hey Specs." You say to your exceptionally tall friend. Donatello sits down beside you on the steps.

He picks up the champagne bottle and swishes it to see how much is left. Yup. You're drunk.

"So, what was all that about?"

You shake your head, at a loss "I have no idea."

You think back over the Wedding for the millionth time in the last hour. You'd walked down the aisle with Raphael arm in arm, and *damn* that reptile could rock a suit. You remember really hoping that the amount of formal makeup you were wearing was enough to cover the flush of warmth in your skin every time he brushed against you and the very thin fabric of your dress. It was criminal, how handsome he was.

You remember your mind drifting during the ceremony to wishes and what-ifs. You'd glanced at him while April was saying her vows. Comfort, safety, home... Gravity. The person you keep coming back to. Why was your brain suddenly checking off boxes?

When the bride was being kissed you couldn't help but look over at him once more. Your... friend? Is that what he is...? The word doesn't seem right. Enough.

D is your best friend. You know what "best friend" feels like. But Raphael... You don't know what these feelings are. You've never felt like this about anyone. This *need*. To have him close. Closer. Finding reasons just to be around him. Coming up with excuses to touch him, just to feel his skin against yours.

Every relationship you've ever been in has felt like work, but things are *easy* with Raphael. Natural. It left you second guessing yourself. Wasn't it supposed to be hard? Weren't you supposed to have to try? Was it really love if you didn't have to fight for it?

April tossed the bouquet and you were the "lucky" one. The moment it hit your hands you decided you were going to talk to him about all of this. Maybe it wouldn't completely blow up in your face. Maybe he would be willing to see where this goes. After all, the night was already so magical, maybe you could squeeze out one more miracle.

Someone had approached you, placed their hand on your arm, and asked you to dance. In the moment it took you to say, "just a sec," he was gone.

You'd looked around for a moment, completely abandoning whoever it was that had asked you to dance, and finally spotted him walking toward the house. You ran to catch up.

"Hey, where's the fire, Red?" You'd giggled as you stumbled on the uneven ground, (more than) a little tipsy.

You'd felt the sigh, more than heard it when he stopped walking, and your brow furrowed. "You okay, Bruiser?" You'd asked gently.

"Yeah..." He'd said without turning around.

"Doesn't seem like 'yeah,'" you'd observed, walking around to face him. "What's up?"

"Nothin'. 'm just tired. Gonna head in early." He wouldn't meet your eyes. You were too buzzed to notice. Instead, you saw an opportunity.

Privacy was perfect! Exactly what you needed for what you had planned! "Great! I'll come with you!" You'd chirped brightly, as he attempted to side step you. You'd touched his arm. That's all.

As your skin brushed his he turned in a flash and had you by the wrist, his expression unreadable. It didn't hurt, he'd never hurt you, but his grip was like iron, and his eyes cold as steel. You'd never seen him like this. Completely guarded.

He held your gaze, almost searching for something, before realizing what he was doing and releasing you quickly. He muttered an apology, reiterated that he was tired, and took off toward the house.

You stood there dumbfounded for several long moments, trying to process what just happened. You considered going after him, but then thought better of it. Something was wrong and it obviously had something to do with you. You being around might just make whatever this was worse. You'd spotted Splinter heading toward the house as well and decided he was better suited to tend to Raphael.

You try to think past the haze of intoxication. You can't remember doing anything that might upset him. In fact, the last time you got to actually talk was before the ceremony and things were great then. At the reception you'd asked him, practically begged him, to dance with you several times. But he was always busy with something else. With the help of your good friend Dom Pérignon, you'd practically been throwing yourself at him all evening. And every time you'd approached him he'd seemed more and more uncomfortable...

Oh.

It must be love. Because this hurts.

You'd ruined it. You'd committed the cardinal sin of catching feelings. You'd condemned yourself even more by attempting to act on them. He was pissed. You'd upset the balance, changed everything, your relationship would never be the same... and it was all your fault.

"Do you wanna hear something stupid?" You say quietly, barely able to speak over the shattering in your chest.

"Shoot," Donnie says, taking a swig from the near empty bottle.

"I think I'm in love with your brother."

Now, Donatello has never had expensive taste, and you wouldn't think an internal organ would have any opinion. But for a second there, Donnie's lungs are drinking champagne.

Coughing, sputtering, and cursing whoever first discovered fermentation, he looks down at you trying to catch his breath. It would have been hilarious if you hadn't just ruined your own life.

"And I'm pretty sure he knows and I'm pretty sure he hates me," you say, as your eyes fill with tears. "Donnie, I think I ruined everything..."

........

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