#i HATE being told what to do especially if i have to help someone

[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. 

[bunnys-kisses]

retired!price liked that you had daddy issues. aw, did someone not have a functioning relationship with their father as a child and now has to find that relationship in older men? aw, poor doll. price was more than okay with being called 'daddy' as long as you called him 'captain' too, especially when you were on your knees. while you got off to having an older man praise you, he got off to a pretty little thing calling him captain. you even went as far as to worship his strong physic, how easily he could bend, flip, turn and press into you.

didn't help that your pussy became a fixation for him.

he was close to fifty, his hip had a habit of locking from time to time. he had been hearing about it for years that it was time to have a family. even simon had managed to make a family, price was still hung up on young tail that he could bully his fat cock into. while most younger women were flavours of the week with no string attached. price made sure to attach every metaphorical string onto you. he had a copy of your apartment key. he added a profile for you on his streaming services. he knew on wednesdays you enjoyed pasta, but hated cooking on the weekend. he knew everything about his precious baby girl. you folded into his praise and always were eager to please. and that was what price loved about you. so imagine his shock (anger) when you told him that you thought you'd have to end your arrangement because you met a guy at your university. and when he asked why, you simply said, "i have to grow up at some point.", and that hit price in the head like an ice pick. if you wanted to grow up so badly, baby girl. there were other ways to do it.

the broken condom held weight in price's pocket while you had few drinks during your last 'date' together, he waited till you got all soft because of the wine. till you were on his side of the booth with your leg over his lap and your face pressed against his bicep. you ran your hand across his chest and giggled, "you're taking this whole break up thing so well." and he petted your head, watching you fold into him further, "like you said, you need to grow up." but you both had different definitions of 'growing up'. for you it meant getting over you daddy issues, but to him it was making him a daddy, for real. you giggled further while he gave you another glass of wine. when you tried to say no, he simply pushed it closer to you, "don't want to waste the bottle." and so easily you were in price's grip.

price took you three times that night. first was in the backseat of his expensive car. he pressed you into a corner, claimed that he needed more space for his larger body. your hazy vision was transfixed on the glimmer of his gold chain against his hairy chest in the low light. your poor body bent in such ways while he pace was relentless. he admired your unsteady gaze and your heavy breathing. he continued to move against you with such a pace that the whole car rocked. but don't worry, the parking lot was dead at that hour. you could scream your head off and no one would hear either of you. he did however put a tear in your panties. right in the crotch area. he sighed and said that he'd need to buy you something a little. while he loved the cheap pairs you owned, he thought his woman deserved something a little nicer. the future mrs. price needed to look next to perfection.

then he fingered you heavily in his bed and watched you squirm. he had to make sure every drop got deep enough before he bullied your sweet pussy once more. he loved the sight of you, still so fucked out from prior. you were in a daze in the car ride home. your breathing was heavy when he pushed the skirt of your dress up a little and teased your cunt while he drove. only to go further once you were naked on his bed. he watched your ass jiggle with each of his power thrusts while he took you from behind. he felt like a mad man while he fucked you. he was determined. he only got to where he was in his career because of grit and determination. he wouldn't back down to a challenge, especially when the stakes were so high. your pussy need to be bred, you needed to be with price. he never wanted to hear anything about another man ever again. price would hate to take drastic measures if another man tried to get in his way. if you needed a collar or a tattoo, the taste of his cum constantly your lips or leaked into your panties, price would do it all to ensure that you were his. the most effective way to ensure that was what kept him going through two rounds of sex without any pains. to get you pregnant. you had already forgotten about the broken condom, it still was in price's pocket! no use using it now, even bother giving the illusion that he wasn't breeding you.

the third time was when you tried to leave the next morning, he had you upside down on the bed. your bottom half on the mattress while all the blood rushed to your head as you tried not to fall on your head. price put bruises on top of bruises. your poor cunt was creamy with promises of the future. a future with him. the blood rush made you cum twice on his cock, adding fresh slick to his coated cock. you thought that older men were supposed to slow down with age. but it felt like price was even quicker than before. his pace brutal, almost like punishment for trying to leave him. but price didn't get to be captain because he followed one plan. he was going to ease you into married life, slowly make you the perfect woman for him. he was traditional that way. church wedding, the white dress, the vows. that would all happen, but might take a little longer. he wasn't too sure that a baby bump would fit nicely in a wedding dress. the thought of you pregnant, trapped to him made him eagerly finish in you two times. and when he got you back up onto the bed, you were fucked out. when you managed to collect your clothes and stagger out of his flat by mid-afternoon, you thought you made it in time to the pharmacy to get emergency plan b.

you prayed, and you never prayed. you promised three versions of 'god' that you'd convert to their religion if the pill worked. but three deities failed you and a month later price was in your apartment with his hands on the plastic pregnancy test. he scratched his beard and looked at you. he tried so hard to put on his best acting face. "that's a real shame, baby girl." he said in that rough voice of his that got you in trouble in the first place. he leaned back a little in your kitchen chair and placed the test back down on the table, "always wanted to be a father." he frowned a little bit, "never got the chance too. they said when i retired that the chances were low of me havin' a baby..." he looked at you. you should've known he was lying. his swimmers obviously weren't shot by how easily you got pregnant. you felt bad, almost like you were burdening him with getting pregnant. that it was your fault. you rung your hands and admitted softly, "we can try... we can make a family." and price smiled, "oh, doll." then got up to embrace you. you sniffled and cried a little in his strong chest. he held you in his strong arms. he was your protector even though his cock was straining in his jeans at the knowledge that he fundamentally changed you.

your body, your life, everything. when he released you from the hug, he got down on his knees. made a point to make a small 'huff' noise from being down on his 'bad' knee before he pushed up your t-shirt and pressed a kiss against your stomach. he said to you, "don't worry, love. daddy'll take care of ya." then gave that smile that wrapped around you like a vice. <3

[graciebrams]

I'm literally always ready to help people like i just don't know how to say no but this is like the first time ever i believe I'm able to stand up and not say yes (bec i didn't exactly say no either lol ) when someone told me to do something for them. and now this is where the issue is i was 'TOLD' not asked but TOLD to do someone's work. like i understand you need help but you should ask if I'm okay with it idk why i find it disrespectful and so so frustrating when someone just kind of gives you orders to do their work like UM ??

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

JoJo Siwa doesn’t deserve all the hate (and homophobia) she’s getting for her style and music; but she does deserve scrutiny for defending Colleen Ballinger and being both active and complicit in abuse that happened on her TV show. Like the girl has been under the public eye in unhealthy environments all her life; cut her some slack — not too much; she’s still a responsible adult — but if you’re going to dogpile her, then at least dogpile her for the right reasons. Jesus Fucking Christ.

[deepseawave]

obsessed w the tags on ur last reblog

Omgg, thank you haha, it was a quality post so I just had to appreciate it in full force 😂❤️

Can‘t believe someone would actually enjoy my yapping :,D

[running-in-the-dark]

aw man. for a minute there I thought I might be allowed to take Ibuprofen again since I stopped taking the antidepressant that I was on. but sadly no, you're also not supposed to take it when you're on the anxiety medication I'm on 😔

[perilegs]

if someone has a crush on you how would you react? just as a hypothetical situation ha ha

[lina-lovebug]

I'd Fight The Devil

Pairing: Alastor x fem! reader

Background: reader is Lilith and Lucifers oldest, and resembles Lilith more. Lucifer has a hard time bonding with her because of this, and Alastor decides to step in.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"DAD'S COMING?!"

(Y/N) Morningstar, firstborn daughter of Lilith and Lucifer, was currently having a breakdown over the fact that her father was on his way to the hotel.

She'd have no issue leaving, of course, but Charlie tricked her dear old sister into staying by saying she needed help with the hotel. . .and told her their dad was coming when he was two minutes away.

It's not like she didn't miss him, but things became different once their mother disappeared. Lucifer threw himself into his ideas, and (Y/N) tried maintaining their relationship but he couldn't even stand the look of her.

"I'm sorry! But I thought maybe you guys could talk while he's here?" Charlie suggested with a gulp, twiddling her fingers.

"I'm done trying with dad. If he wants to talk, he can come to me," (Y/N) crossed her arms, firm on her stance.

"I never thought I'd meet someone with worse daddy issues, but here you are, cher," Alastor, with his famous grin, looked down at the Princess of Hell. She huffed, not in the mood for his side comments.

"Alastor, please-"

"He's here!"

"-please fucking hide me!" She ran behind him, despite the mass amount of blonde hair making it obvious.

He chuckled.

Honestly, since meeting the eldest Morningstar, Alastor deemed himself her Protector. Not that the girl wasn't capable or needed him persay, but he cared for her. Being on the aroace spectrum, he wasn't plagued by a selfish desire to fuck her, but it was a sweet concern that slowly turned into a need to be near her.

A need to make her his.

"Hopefully he doesn't-"

"Pumpkin?"

"Fuck," (Y/N) silently cursed under her breath before Alastor stepped aside.

"Hey dad," Lucifer felt a pang in his sinister heart at her tone. She sounded uncomfortable and wouldn't even look at him, but he also remembered that he couldn't look at her at times.

It reminded him of happier times.

Times he didn't want to be reminded of anymore.

"So how've you been? Heard you've got a fancy job now. Probably making loads of money, huh?" He chuckled nervously.

"Dad, it's my company. I made it."

And he couldn't even remember that she did that?

Any dad would remember that his child created her own business.

"Ouch."

"And it's got a fucking duck on the logo. God, dad," She rose her voice, "you can't even remember that?"

"I've been busy, pumpkin-"

"Too busy to call? Too busy to even fucking call?!"

Charlie flinched at the harshness in her voice. She's always been a firecracker but she's never seen her so angry.

"I'm not fighting with you, (Y/N)," Lucifer stepped towards her, "why do you insist on fighting? Especially when I'm here for Charlie."

"Oh, you're here for Charlie?" Her horns started to come up through her skin, rolling back like a rams.

Just like her mom.

"I'm not making this about me. I just wish you'd make the effort instead of it having to be me," She missed who he was.

And during this, Alastor could see the pain on her face. She was furious, and rightfully so.

But he let her fight her own battles.

"I'm sorry that I look like mom. Is that what you want me to say?!"

"Yes!"

He didn't mean it. Of fucking course he didn't mean it, but it slipped out.

"Dad! That's enough!" Charlie ran to her, seeing tears well up in her sisters eyes. "How could you say that?"

"Pumpkin, I-"

"Don't," She sniffled, holding Charlie close, "don't come near me."

But he didn't listen.

He hated being the fact that his little girl was crying because of him.

"I think you've come far enough," Alastor spoke, getting infront of Charlie and (Y/N). He is excellent at saving face, so his pure unadulterated rage was hidden beneath his smile.

She hiccuped behind him, sobbing into Charlie's shoulder.

"Don't make me move you," Lucifer glared.

"And don't make me fucking kill you for hurting what's mine."

His voice turned more static-like than before, his eyes a burning red and his horns outstretched. He was a fucking shield for his Princess, and not even the King of Hell could get through. Lucifer recognized this and humbly backed away, retreating with his tail between his legs.

_ _ ☆ _ _

(Y/N) spent the next hour crying in her room. Over the years, she had started to hate herself for looking like her mom, and Lucifers' confirmation only reaffirmed it.

"Need anything else?" Charlie asked her. Although her sister wasn't searching for redemption, she had her own personal room in the hotel.

"Can you get Alasto-?"

A knock sounded at the door.

"Was he there the whole time?" She sniffled, and a muffled "maybe" came through the door.

Her bed was surrounded by napkins that she quickly placed on her bedside as Charlie allowed Alastor inside.

Alone.

The two of them.

Might as well just throw them condoms and say get to it, is what (Y/N) was thinking. She's known about her crush on The Radio Demon for a few months now, having a fantasy dream here and there, but wasn't much of an active person herself.

"Thank you. I know he tried to fix it, but I couldn't stand to look at him," Her puffy eyes made Alastors eye twitch, still a small spout of anger for her father.

"Of course, my dear," He sat himself next to her on the bed.

"Because your father, although the King of Hell, is a fucking coward", is what he wanted to say but kept those words for himself.

"Did you mean it? That I'm yours?" She asked, her hand inching closer to his.

"I never say anything I don't mean, cher," He grabbed her hand, kissed it, and made the she-demon gasp.

"I thought you hated touch."

He chuckled, "Oh, I do, but not if it's you. Your skin is warm, and it brings me comfort. You bring me comfort."

"You'd have me, even if I want to be glued to your side? Even having petty fights with my dad?"

"Darling, I'd wear your skin if you asked."

"Oh, how romantic," She blushed before both his hands came up to her face, bringing her into a needy kiss. With her, he needed to feel her.

Someday, even all of her.

"And I'd eat demons with you," She whispered against his lips.

"Oh my heart may burst, my dear."

Taglist: @lorkai @droopingdatura @tr1coo @randomuser-89 @abbiedail @evelin1o1 @sseleniaa

[mostly-imagines]

At Least I’m Not Alone at the Wake

jason todd x fem!reader

aka how jason feels safe even when he feels like he’s dying

HEY today we’re going to play a game where we practice reblogging fics: if you read this and like it—reblog!! ie, if you like and dont reblog i might block bc im getting sick of the lack of decorum

warnings: angst w comfort throughout

It took less than thirty seconds for the silence of the night to drift into sounds of shrieks echoing off the buildings along the street. The sharp contrast had you and Jason bolting upright on the couch, ears on alert. It only took a few seconds more of listening for you to realize you’re not hearing shouting—it’s laughter. Maniacal, uncontrolled laughter. 

There’s a beat as you both freeze upon the implication, the unsettling realization dropping in on you. You barely have a moment to process it before Jason’s pushing up from the couch and heading towards the bathroom.

“Close the window,” he grumbles.

You blink as you register his words before jumping up to do as told, quickly sliding the frame shut and locking it. He returns soon with an armful of towels in hand, and you stand back as he stuffs a couple along the window sill with rough movements. He goes throughout the apartment, doing the same to the other windows. He rounds back to the living room window, looking down at the street with a heavy look on his face. 

You trust that the towels will do their job in preventing the laughing gas from getting in the apartment, but they’re unable to block out the bellows of hysteria.

He backs away from the window, letting the living room wall hold his weight. You both listen to the harrowing echoes with still bodies. 

You watch him, waiting for a reaction. You don’t mean to, but you know you’re looking at him like he’s a loaded spring. You try not to, you know how much he hates how his family does that to him, but fuck, it’s hard not to worry about him. .

When Joker incidents have come up, they’ve usually been something you’re able to ignore or even get ahead of and drive out of the city. But this is raucous and chaotic, clearly enough to shut down the city from the inside. Besides, Jason would be booking it out of here if he thought there was any chance of a clean getaway in this.

But you know he’s got no interest in inserting himself in anything Joker related, especially something so destabilizing. But, while  you know Jason’s family cares about him, of course they do, but you’ve noticed they sometimes put Gotham’s needs first and his second. So the severity of this attack is concerning for you for two reasons.

“Will they…” you shuffle, “Will they need you?”

He’s quick to answer, voice firm. “No.” A long moment passes before he adds on, quieter, “They won’t want me out there.”

You nod to yourself, trying to relax your body. You being on edge isn’t going to help him.

You watch as his head thumps against the wall, eyes squeezed shut. He’s tough—you know he’s tough. He can withstand a hell of a lot more than you’ll probably ever even know. But even for Gotham, this is a lot. And even for someone who hasn’t been through what Jason has, the ringing repetitions of laughter are maddening. You wonder if this is what the Joker hears in his head. You wonder if this is what Jason heard.

The intensity of the laughing increases, more people likely becoming exposed to the gas. You think you can hear it in one of your neighbor’s apartments too.

He thumps his head against the drywall again, hands clenching at his sides. It takes one more forceful thud for you to move over to him, cradling your hand to the side of his head, holding him still. He lets you, though he still doesn’t open his eyes.

“Jay,” you say softly, stroking his hair. “Let’s take a shower, yeah?” Normally you’d try for a bath to calm him instead but you hope the waterfall from the shower might be enough to drown out the noise.

He takes a second to respond, letting your hand bear the weight of his head. “Yeah.”

His voice is splintered though, and his shoulders droop as he stands up fully. He waits to move until you start to lead him, flinching at every spike of laughter. You reach back and take his hand, giving it two squeezes. He squeezes your hand back but doesn’t loosen his grip.

As you enter the bathroom he wastes no time getting straight to the shower nozzle and turning it on. You press the door shut behind you, sealing out a decent portion of the chaos. You decide against turning the overhead light on, opting instead to let the small pink-shaded lamp provide a warm glow that you can easily maneuver throughout the shadows in. You figure he needs a more tranquil atmosphere than the harsh white light the bathroom ceiling can provide.

You turn to him in time to catch him pulling his shirt up harshly, movements jerked and impatient.

You place a gentle hand on his forearm, “Hey.”

He pauses his actions, eyes on the floor.

You don’t say anything else, but he understands your objection regardless. You remove your touch and he peels his shirt off slower, kinder to himself. 

You wait to make sure he continues this method with the rest of his clothes before you start to remove yours.

The downpour of water on the tiles does it’s intended job in creating your own little sanctum away from the noise. You climb into the shower after him, standing in the stray mist sprays that made their way past him. The bits of water that do manage their way to you are hot—not scalding, but hot enough that you know his chest is going to start getting numb very soon standing in front of the stream like this. 

You trace lines over the muscles of his back, outlining them and every little indent of a scar. When you run out of canvas on his back you move onto his arms, right then left.

It’s not until you trace down his wrist that you realize his head is angled down. You don’t need to be standing in front of him to know that his focus is zeroed in on his scar and you’re not sure how long it's been that way. Too long, in any case.

“Jay,” you say so softly that the water nearly drowns you out. “Will you look at me, please?”

He does turn to you, slowly, but he doesn’t look up.

You hold his face in your hands, nudging him to look up at you. He looks tired, drained. 

You know he has to hear that laughter in a different way than you do. It’s uncomfortable and frightening for you, but for him, it’s layers upon layers of the sound he heard while he was being beaten to death. And even beyond that horrible trauma, the reminder of it brings forth every memory of what happened afterwards, not to mention the heavy baggage you know he feels over being here at all. And you can see it all mulling behind his eyes.

“You know I love you,” you tell him with sincerity. His gaze stays heavy and you can tell it’s a struggle for him to hold the eye contact.

You lean up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, catching his bottom lip slightly. Your next kiss meets his lips fully. You have to push up on your toes a little bit but he does the work of meeting you halfway. It’s a slow, intimate exchange, as fluid and serene as breathing.

“I love all of you,” you murmur against his lips. You let your hands fall to his chest, resting as gently as they can over his pecs. “Everything about you.”

You kiss the top of his Y scar, trailing down soft pecks to where it forks off. You feel his shoulders sag a bit, tension forcing its way out of him. You lean down to continue your kisses down the vertical line marking his abdomen, your hands lightly following in your wake.

He says your name painfully, like he’s begging you to stop. You’ll give him partial reprieve, taking his hands in yours and kissing his scarred knuckles. It’s his instinct to push affection away, you know that, but you also know that he needs it. That’s why he doesn’t stop you now—he knows he needs it—it’s just a lot for him all at once, emotionally. Which is why he gives no warning before he picks you up by your thighs and pulls you close. 

He’s got you a full head higher than him and he uses the difference to hide his face in your neck. Sometimes he feels like that’s the only place he can go. He maneuvers you around so your back is pressed up against the wall as you hold each other tight.

You stay in there like that until the water runs cold, and then some. You have to nudge him a bit into setting you back down then, but he does, letting you collect and wrap the both of you in towels. The second the water turns off you can hear the cackling through the walls. 

As you return to the bedroom, he only bothers to pull on a pair of boxers before collapsing his weight onto the mattress. The lack of layers won’t help him any, but you know why he did it.

He can’t always look after himself the way he should—he disregards his own needs and has trouble even thinking of what could help him. You’ve developed a mind for it though—for him—and you know that being exposed and vulnerable like this isn’t going to help him calm down. He prefers being covered up when he’s stressed, it gives him more security, you think.

You open up the dresser and dig through for his most comfortable hoodie and sweatpants. He takes them from you, but he looks remiss at the thought of exerting anymore energy right now, so you help him tug on the clothes, successfully blocking out the now icy air from the AC. 

Once he’s fully clothed he pulls you forward to sit on his lap. You stumble a bit on the way but he compensates by holding you very tight, not giving your body any option to fall. His grip on you tells you that he’s not concerned with you getting dressed too, which you’re perfectly willing to oblige.

You have to force him to let you break away a little bit so you can reach over to the nightstand and grab your phone and earbuds.

“Movie or music?”

He doesn’t say anything, only nods his head once at the end of your sentence. You take that to mean music and open up your playlist on your phone, handing him the headphones.

There’s a harsh spike in the hysterics outside, mixed with what sounds like screams, and it has Jason flinching hard. You think you can see tears welled in his eyes as he fumbles to get the headphones in his ears. He takes the phone from you and picks the first song he sees and turns the volume up, up, up.

You shift yourself around so that you’re laying back against the pillows, giving him room to lay down over your legs, wrapping his arms around your waist with a firm grip. You pull the hood up over his head, but keep your hands woven underneath, threading through his hair. 

His cheek mushes against your bare stomach, and with the way he’s laying, you’re sure the earbuds are digging uncomfortably into his ear. He makes no effort to move in any case. You can hear the song playing word for word, and while the noise exposure concerns you, if there was ever a time to let it go, it would be now.

You’re both wrapped up nicely in the blankets and you can only see the tip of his nose and a few strands of ivory hair strewn past his forehead. Despite all the snug layers, he shakes a bit under your touch.

He falls asleep before the problem outside gets wrapped up, and you turn down the music. Not all the way, just enough that he can rest in peace. 

After a while the giggles die down and aside from a few first responder sirens, things get quiet again. About twenty minutes later, Nightwing ducks in through your window and scares the hell out of you. The interaction does not, however, wake Jason up, which is how you know tonight took a very heavy toll on him.

Even though the lights aren’t on in your bedroom you slide down from the pillows a bit more and let the blanket and Jason drown your chest out from visibility.

Nightwing gives you a silent, if not awkward, wave and scans over Jason. Even in the dark can see the worry in his eyes. He looks back up at you and throws up a questioning thumbs up with a tilt of his head.

You nod and he nods back slowly as he takes one more look at his brother before hopping out the window.

You peer down at Jason and brush his curls back gently. His hold on you tightens just a bit as he turns in his sleep.

reblog or get out seriously

[fireinmoonshot]

hit the jackpot | tyler owens x fem!reader

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader Summary: When you text your boyfriend for help after someone makes you and your friends uncomfortable at the bar, Tyler is quick to make sure you're okay. Warnings: Mentions of a guy being creepy, references to alcohol and unsafe driving Word Count: 1.2k A/N: Just a short one! I am gonna start working on a longer one hopefully tomorrow, but I just wrote this one tonight after I had the idea and so here it is! I love this Tyler so much. Enjoy! 💗

Tyler was sitting in front of his computer, going through some of the footage they’d gotten today to start editing it for a video on Youtube when his phone buzzed. Usually he’d ignore it so late at night, especially because he was working, but not tonight.

You were out with your friends, celebrating one of their birthday’s at a bar a few blocks from the house you shared with Tyler. He’d wanted to come along, but no one else was bringing a partner so, regretfully, he’d agreed to stay home – but just one text and he’d be there, either to be the designated driver for you and your friends or any other reason.

He figured, from the time of evening, it would be a text asking him to come and pick you and your friends up, but the second he read the message, his computer was forgotten in front of him and he was standing up and heading to the door before he even finished reading.

There’s some guy here being creepy. Can you come by?

With one hand, he typed out a quick On my way and with the other, he grabbed his car keys. He locked the door behind him, not bothering about grabbing a jacket despite the chill in the air, and jogged the few steps to his truck, parked in the driveway. 

Tyler was a safe driver, but that night he drove a little over the speed limit – knowing he shouldn’t but being much more worried about you to care too much – to get to the bar quicker. He pulled up right out the front and was quick to throw the truck in park and jump out, shoving his keys in the pocket of his jeans as he headed towards the door.

It looked busy, people spilling out of the bar onto the street, but Tyler didn’t let that phase him. He pushed through the crowd with ease, his height and the way he held himself almost making the crowd part for him. He paused briefly once he was inside, looking around for you and your friends, and when he spotted you, he didn’t hesitate.

You spotted him getting closer towards you and let out a breath of relief. “Ty, that was so quick,” you said, wrapping an arm around his waist as he reached you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

“Would have been here quicker if I could’ve been, darlin’,” Tyler replied. “Now, where is this creep and what has he been doing?” He gave a quick greeting to your friends, who were standing in a circle, glancing nervously back over their shoulders. 

“He’s the one in the brown shirt with the black hair, just there,” you point the man out, trying to be as discreet as possible, not wanting to pull attention to yourself even though you know that nothing is gonna happen now that Tyler is here. “He just won’t leave us alone. We’ve all told him we’re not interested but he won’t take no for an answer.”

You wondered, briefly, if he had actually moved away from you all, as he was stood talking to another person a few people away from you, but then he glanced back and met your eyes and you could see the interest spark on his face again. 

Tyler didn’t let the man get very close. He hated to let you go, but he knew you were safe behind him as he moved to put himself between your friends and the man so he couldn’t get any closer to them. 

“Hey, ‘scuse me, man, just trying to get past.” The man tried to side-step past Tyler, but he was quick, moving to stand in his way again. 

“I think you should leave,” Tyler said.

The man stopped and raised his eyebrows before letting out a laugh. “Who are you to say that to me, man? I’m just trying to have a nice night and talk to some nice ladies, and I’ve been talking to some just over there all night.” He moved, trying to step around Tyler again.

Tyler moved in his path again. “You listen to me,” he started. “Those ladies want nothing to do with you. I’m not a violent man, but if you try and get past me to get to them one more time, I can’t promise you I won’t become one. So, I am telling you to get the hell outta here.”

You watched for a few moments as the man stared Tyler down, worrying that he was going to take a swing at your boyfriend and create drama. The last thing you wanted was for Tyler to get hurt tonight. The night had already taken a turn for the worst. 

“You need me to tell you again?” Tyler said in response to the silence.

The man scoffed, threw his hands up in the air and turned on his heel, walking out of the bar. You all watched him as he left, letting out a breath of relief when you saw him leave. 

Tyler was quick to come back over to you, wrapping an arm around you again and gently rubbing your arm in an attempt to soothe you. He could tell you were feeling tense – and for good reason. That man was a prick and Tyler was mad he wasn’t here to get rid of him before he made you and your friends so uncomfortable.

“Thank you, Ty,” you leant into his side, giving him a squeeze. 

“No need to thank me, darlin’, protecting you and your friends is my job.” He pressed another kiss to the top of your head. 

Your friends all thanked him as well, relaxing a bit now that the man was gone.

“That’s not the end to the night I was hoping for,” one of your friends said.

“I know,” you pouted. “I was hoping we’d get another hour or two at least.”

Tyler looked down at you. “Who says your night has to end? You can all come back to ours, y’know,” he suggested. “We have drinks and food. Pretty sure my girl has some stuff in the fridge to whip up a quick cheese board. What do you say?”

All of your friends looked to you, hope in their eyes. 

“Ty, are you sure? I know you have some work you need to get done.” 

“Course I’m sure, darlin’. I don’t think your night should be ruined by an asshole like that, and I know how excited you were to spend so much time with your friends. I can just drive them all home when you’re done.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you leant up to press your lips to Tyler’s. He smiled into the kiss as he kissed you back. 

“Okay, let’s go,” you grinned after you broke away from the kiss. “Party continues at ours!”

Tyler kept an arm wrapped around you as you walked out of the bar. Two of your friends walked ahead of you, leading the way. The third leant in to mutter a quick “I think you won the jackpot with your boyfriend” in your ear. You knew that she was a hundred percent right. 

[marlenesluv]

lando + dealing with his gf after cheating scandals

note: i do not view lando as a cheater in any way, shape, or form. but, amidst the new lando and magui rumors, i thought, “hmmm, what if these rumors circulated while he had a gf, aka reader, and it was because of lando and said gf not being public. so, mclaren needed pr for lando to be responsible, so they told him to go out with magui, EUGH, and yada yada you’ll get it!” also i changed locations and shit for the plot lol.

important note: it’s not okay to hate on magui, don’t do it. i don’t agree with what she’s done, but hate def isn’t the answer, especially with neither she, nor lando, gaf about what we have to say. i just used her since they have pics together so, you can imagine someone else if you’d like. the focus is lando x reader here :)

type: this is a head-cannon, but there’s mixes of smau.

pairing: lando norris x secret!gf!fem

warnings: angst but there’s fluff, dw

۵ being landos secret girlfriend was difficult at times.

۵ when you were alone at your shared house? easy. you could talk as loud as you wanted, cuddle on the couch for hours, you could be a real couple.

۵ but once lando left for the races, it’s like he was a stranger.

۵ you felt like a fan watching her crush on television. not a girlfriend.

۵ a girlfriend would be there, in person, supporting her boyfriend. she would be there in the paddock, just like lily was. watching alex and hugging him after a race. or like rebecca, smiling up at her boyfriend like he put the stars in the sky as he won a race.

۵ but you? you watched your boyfriend from the couch, working and making sure that he hadn’t crashed between emails.

۵ yeah, lando would text you and call you, but that’s not the same. not when all you want to do is be there for him in person.

۵ but you couldn’t. unfortunately, last time lando had a girlfriend they broke up. they broke up because of the fans. lando felt pressured to move quickly with her, and he didn’t really even want to date like that. he just wanted fun at the time.

۵ not with you, though. you were different. he loved you and knew from the second you two met at the bar that you were meant for him. he loved everything about you. and neither of you wanted fans or media to ruin it.

۵ but nothing everything is avoidable. hearts get broken, even when- no, especially when you least expect it.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Liked by: f1wags, f1updates, and 72,194 others

f1wagupdates: update!! lando has been spotted today with magui corceiro in australia after the grand prix! fans saw they saw magui attend the race as well, and now the two and being seen hanging out? do we hear a new wag coming? a new couple?

view comments…

user4: i mean…she’s messy but ok

user1: she’s prettyyyy holy shit

user77: isn’t she friends with kika??

user25: yes!

user3: he doesn’t look happy….

user90: meh

user41: looks forced

user2: my mannnnn

user0: honestly, he needed a new gf. he’s been single foreverrrrr

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

۵ and after those headlines popped up, you were done for.

۵ tears? flowing. tissues? everywhere. landos calls? declined.

۵ you frankly didn’t want to talk to him. the mere idea of him cheating on you made you suck to your stomach.

۵ but maybe it made sense. he wanted a public relationship now…maybe?

۵ lando knew he should have told you. he knew he should have told you that mclaren told him o hangout with her to help pr. to make him seem responsible after the grand prix.

۵ lando knew he fucked up. and after not answering his texts and checking instagram and seeing the gossip posts, he knew why. the tags were insane, and he was stressing.

۵ the only girl he loved didn’t want to talk to him, and he was thousands of miles away.

۵ all because of a stupid pr stunt.

۵ lando booked a flight home as he sent a text to magui:

lando norris: hey, magui. i know this pr thing was supposed to last, but i’m done.

magui: oh…ok?

lando: sorry. can you book a flight for yourself?

magui: i’ll ask kika

magui: tell your girlfriend i’m sorry

lando: ???

magui: you obviously have one, lando. it’s fine. i’m sure she’s beautiful

lando: she is

*lando has blocked this number*

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Liked by: y/n.user, danielricciardo, and 1,925,105 others

landonorris: rumors are lame, so here’s the truth. i have a girlfriend, we’ve been dating for two years, and i love her with every fiber of my being. we’ve kept this relationship private for her safety and to go through everything as a pair, not in-front of the world. unfortunately, rumors spread, and they spread fast. but those rumors stem from mclaren pulling this pr move, one to make people think i was in a relationship to make me seem “responsible and mature.” whatever. i am, by the way. but i am in a relationship, not with magui though. i love you @y/n.user ❤️

view comments…

*only certain profiles can reply to this post*

y/n.user: oh my god. get home so i can smack you and then give you a kiss

landonorris: smack me??

y/n.user: you posted my TOES

oscarpiastri: double dates?

landonorris: well that’ll be thrilling

y/n.user: awwww that’s adorable yes

lilyzneimer: i just need to meet y/n too!!💞

danielricciardo: wow, he finally admits it

carlossainz55: i think everyone knew, mate. but ok!

charles_leclerc: congratulations! alex says she can’t wait to meet y/n!!

savnorris: bring her to christmas this year!!

landonorris: i will, don’t fret

olivernorris1: no one was “fretting”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

۵ lando loved you, and he had to prove it once his plane landed.

۵ cuddles for days, home cooked meals (to his best ability), movie nights, appreciation posts, etc.

۵ you moved on from the incident. you understood, especially after an explaining from zak, along with a run down of paddock rules.

۵ races were fun, you loved going and the fans loved you.

۵ oscar’s girlfriend, lily, was wonderful and you two got along perfect. so talking with her while lando and oscar races was nice.

۵ you weren’t fond of how you got here, but you were fond of being here.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)

[fastandcarlos]

Sleepless Nights : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: as your daughter cries out yet again, you can't help but feel like the problem, especially when max swoops in and saves the day again

A frustrated sigh escaped as what felt like for the thousandth time that night you heard cries coming from across your home. Beside you, Max turned onto his back, meeting your eyes as he offered a sympathetic smile, feeling exactly how you felt, exhausted and on the verge of tears. 

You’d been up and down for most of the night, unable to quite settle your daughter. With Max only home for a few days before the track called again, you’d decided to take on most of the night jobs to try and let him get some rest. 

However, as you sat up and went to leave the bed again, two hands on your shoulders pulled you straight back down. “It’s my turn, you’ve done more than enough tonight,” Max whispered, sitting himself up instead. 

“She’s never been this bad before,” you hummed, allowing yourself to settle back down. 

Max stood up and stretched, momentarily looking back at you. “I’ll go and see if maybe a change of face will do the trick,” Max suggested, keeping his footsteps quiet as he left your bedroom, shutting the door behind him to try and not disturb you. 

As much as you knew Max needed to rest, you couldn’t help but feel thankful that he had got up this time. Your tank was empty and your frustrations were growing. Of course, you adored your daughter, but she sure knew how to give you a restless night of sleep. 

“What’s wrong baby girl?” Max whispered as he walked into your daughter’s room, peering over her cot and reaching in, scooping her up and pressing her against his bare chest.  

Max walked around the room with your daughter for a few moments, rocking her gently as her sobs began to quieten down. His eyes didn’t leave her, studying her closely with a smile on his face, walking out of the room and into your bedroom once she was quiet again. 

“I think someone might be feeling a little bit needy tonight,” Max laughed as he took a seat beside you on the bed, keeping your daughter in his hold as you shuffled to face them both. 

As you sat up, Max reached across with your daughter, offering her into your hold. As you took her though, the volume went straight back up, making you immediately flinch back and give your daughter back to Max again.  

“Love,” Max whispered as your eyes went wide, guilt filling you up. Your hands brushed through your hair as you watched her go quiet again once Max had her. “Maybe she just wants her daddy tonight.” 

Max knew you like a book, he could tell exactly what was going through your mind. It almost felt as if you were the problem, the one that kept your daughter crying because she didn’t want you, she wanted Max. He seemed to be the one that solved your daughter’s problems, whilst you just seemed to make things worse. 

And as your daughter went quiet again, it felt like the weight of the world was coming down on you. “Don’t think like that,” a voice spoke, breaking you from your thoughts, with Max knowing exactly what was going through your head. 

You smiled softly across at him, wishing it was just that easy. Motherhood was hard, but raising your baby was harder than you ever thought it would be, especially as so much of it you were having to do all alone. 

“I can’t seem to do the right thing,” you whispered, burying your head into your hands, “I’m trying to do everything I can to make her happy but it’s like I’m the problem, the reason that she’s crying so often.” 

Max sighed as you spoke, with your daughter in one arm, his other wrapped around your shoulders. He hated how hard you were being on yourself, even if you didn’t see all the good that you were doing, he absolutely did. 

“I thought having a baby was supposed to be a dream,” you admitted. 

Everyone had told you how amazing having a baby was, but for you, it felt like the opposite. Watching Max come in and save the day again and again was lovely, but at the same time, it felt like a knife in the back for you, as if to show you all the things you were doing wrong. 

Max’s hand moved up and brushed over the top of your head as he heard faint sobs coming from beside him. “What am I supposed to do when you go back to race next week? Do I just sit here and let her cry night after night?” 

“No, because that’s not what you do,” Max assured you, “you’re an amazing mum.” 

“It doesn’t feel that way, it feels like I’m messing up constantly,” you confessed, your voice a faint whisper. 

It killed Max to listen to you to hear how hard you were being on yourself. He was beyond proud of all that you were doing, if anything, he wished that he could do more instead of having to leave you and go to work all the time.  

“Love, listen to me, please,” Max asked you. “These things take time, it’s all about routine and we’re all still learning about each other. I promise that it’s going to get easier, the first few weeks are always the hardest.” 

“Do you really think we’ll get there?” You nervously asked, looking up and across at Max. “You think we’ll get through this?” 

“Absolutely,” he insisted with a smile. “I’m struggling too, I’ve never raised a baby before and I mess up too, I just do a better job of hiding it so that you don’t see,” Max joked. 

“You make mistakes?” You queried, surprised by Max’s sudden confession. “You always just seem to have everything under control, I’m in awe of you most of the time.” 

Rather than reply, Max held your daughter out to you again. Your hands nervously held out as she placed her down, a smile gracing your face as Max let go and the room remained silent, exactly what you had been hoping for. 

“There you go,” Max proudly grinned, nudging against your side. “You’ve got to stop being so hard on yourself, you’re doing the most amazing job.�� 

Your smile softened as you glanced down at your daughter, relieved to see her settle in your hold. Max was right, you had placed a lot of pressure on yourself, perhaps a little too much. You knew with time you would figure things out, you just needed to be more confident that you could achieve it. 

Max’s eyes remained on you both, feeling his heart swell with pride. “When you feel like you’re struggling I want you to talk to me love, even if I might be thousands of miles away on the other side of the world.” 

You hummed as Max spoke, silently promising that you wouldn’t bottle things up like you had been doing, refusing to suffer in silence any longer. 

“Every day is going to be different, some days it will go well, others it won’t, but that’s all part of the fun of raising a family,” Max reminded you, “I’m not going to let you sit back and feel like you’re not doing enough, because you are.” 

“How did I get so lucky to have you?” You quizzed. 

Max chuckled in reply to you, “you didn’t get lucky with me, I’m the one who got lucky with you. We’re a team, that’s what’s always made us so successful.” 

“I know, but you always just happen to know the right thing to say.” 

“And so do you, that’s why I love you so much,” Max reminded you, “it’s why you’re my best friend.” 

“I love you so much too.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[ponderingmoonlight]

Slow kissing turning into aggressively making out with JJK men

Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader; Sukuna x fem!reader; Toji x fem!reader

Word Count: 3,5k

Warnings: no sexual content but it's getting heated y'all, not proofread because I wrote that in my break lol

Notes: no one asked for this but I delivered it anyway hehe

Gojo Satoru

It’s hard to keep your mind focused when it’s him who’s sitting next to you. Him, with the cheekiest mouth you’ve ever witnessed. Him, who always picks on you whenever he gets the chance. Him, who makes it all too clear for everyone around him that he’s the strongest.

Because that’s who Satoru Gojo is. Unlike you, an average jujutsu sorcerer who just happened to slide into the same year as him.

“Satoru, stop teasing her��, Suguru mumbles to his right, gazer flickering over your obvious uncomfortable face.

If there’s one thing you hate, it’s attention. Especially attention coming from someone who always bathes in the looks of others, who has no problem with standing in the spotlight constantly.

“I’m not teasing (y/n). I was just telling her that she looks great today. Is a man not allowed to voice his opinion around here?”, Satoru replies while pulling you in his arm and stroking your hair a little too harsh.

And despite the stinging fact that you are nothing compared against him, you can’t help but get excited when he enters the room, you can’t stop your heart from almost beating out of your chest when he touches you. Oh, it makes no sense that you fell for him. Especially you out of all girls around jujutsu high. How dumb to even dream of him liking you back someday when he’s surrounded by charismatic and jaw-dropping gorgeous women each and every day.

 “(y/n) doesn’t look comfortable at all, though”, Suguru comments dryly.

Your cheeks redden instantly when both their gazes hit you with full force, eyeing you up and down until you see stars. It really shouldn’t make you this nervous to be around both of them. Why is it so damn hard for you to be the center of attention for a brief second?

“Get going Suguru, I have a mission for you. What are you doing there with (y/n)? I told you over and over again to leave that poor girl alone, dumbass.”

May the ground swallow you whole. Why is your teacher suddenly appearing as well? And most importantly: If he takes Suguru with him, does that mean…?

“I-I…should get going as well!”, you stutter while jumping up so urgently that a wave of nausea hits you.

Maybe it’s nothing but coincidence but somehow, you managed to never be alone with Satoru in a room. He must be weirded out by you already, there is absolutely no reason to risk him getting freaked out by your strange behavior around others.

“Why in such a hurry, (y/n)? Only Suguru has to go on a mission. Both of us are free today”, Satoru purrs next to you.

When his hand grabs yours and pulls you back down into your seat, there is no chance to escape. You stare blankly at your feet, sweaty palms now digging into your thighs. Without Suguru, you’re on your own. No distraction, no possibility to escape his stinging gaze and attention.

You should be excited about finally getting some time alone with your crush. After all, you laid your eyes on him even before joining jujutsu high. Being the daughter of a wealthy and usual mighty jujutsu sorcerer family meant always staying in contact with the family who inherited the honored one. When you were little, you enjoyed Satoru’s company because he never asked too much questions about you and always seemed unbothered by the stinging fact that you are weak. And surprisingly, his interest in you never wavered until this day.

You, on the other hand…

“You look like you’re sharing the room with a special grade curse. It’s just me, your best friend, the one and only Gojo Satoru! Why so nervous, (y/n)?”

Since you started to develop feelings for him like the dumbass you are, everything changed. Just the sheer thought of sharing a room with him alone sends shivers down your spine, feeling his gaze sticking onto you forces you to get all nervous and to act like an idiot.

You really are one hopeless loser.

“Actually, I’ve been waiting quite some time to finally catch you alone again. It seems like you’re avoiding that like the plague.”

Because you do. Being alone with him means risking that you’ll act all weird and maybe freaking him out forever. Even though you’ll never be with him, you don’t want to lose the connection you have with Satoru. No, you’d rather love him from afar than risking it all.

“Really?”, you mumble while staring blanky at your sweaty hands.

“We’ve been friends for so long.”

He slides closer, forces your heart to skip a beat.

“Right.”

“But two or three years ago, you started avoiding me and I wondered why.”

You swallow hard, eyes widen in sheer horror. “Right.”

“Until I realized.”

Your eyes drift towards his, meet the bright blue ocean of his uncovered orbs. Did he find out? No way, you always made sure to never let anyone know, to keep your feelings to yourself. How would he even get the idea that-

“You love me, right?”

Time stands still, you don’t dare to move a single inch. He knows. Gojo Satoru knows. But how? When? You are physically unable to ask him any of those questions. Instead, you sit next to him like his prey in desperate hope that he’ll lose interest in you if you don’t move.

“You love me, right?”

His piercing look almost kills you from the inside. No, you can’t escape him. There is no way you’ll get out of this room without answering him.

“Right”, you whimper.

“Oh thank god.”

You don’t have any time to react. Before you even realize what happens, he pulls you in and kisses you. Slowly, tenderly, soft and sweet.

Satoru Gojo.

He…kisses you?

For a second, you forget how to exist. This has to be a dream you never dared to allow, so far away from reality that you’d shake your head over the sheer thought. But the way he wraps his arm around your waist and places his hand in your nape is oh too real.

No, this isn’t a dream. Satoru is kissing you at this very moment.

“I had my eyes on you for what feels like forever. But when you stopped meeting me alone and avoiding me, I thought that I might have done something to upset you until I realized that you actually feel the same way”, he mumbles against your lips.

You can’t answer. Instead, you allow your shaky hands to rest against his broad chest. Oh, he feels just as good as you secretly imagined, his intoxicating smell tingling in your nose and making your senses go crazy.

Your lips start moving cautiously against his. In your whole life, you were never kissed, there was never a boy besides Satoru who caught your interest. And now it’s him. It’s really him who moves in synch with you, who places soft kisses against your desperate lips.

So desperate. You grab the fabric of the uniform tighter, make sure that he doesn’t escape. When you get used to the feeling of this sensation, your mouth starts moving faster on its own. You close your eyes, give in to the feeling that starts growing louder and louder inside your burning chest. All those years, you refused to even think about him. All those years, you buried your feelings six feet under. But now everything comes back to the surface. Now it seems like the control over your mind and body slips out of your fingers in the most delicate way.

Out of instinct, you grab his neck and pull him even closer. Your mouths collapse with each other over and over again, so heated that you fail to breathe. You slide onto his lap, allow your tongue to intertwine with his. Oh, you never expected this to feel so good, you never knew you were capable of feeling such a sensation.

When Satoru whimpers inside your mouth, you threaten to lose yourself completely. His hands roam around your body without an aim while you hold onto his strong arms for dear life. Unforgivingly, without any mercy, your lips crash into each other until you see stars.

“Fuck”, he breathes out.

Satoru is the first who gives up and releases his puffy lips from yours. Panting heavy, both of you stare at each other. Did this really happen? Did you really make out with Gojo Satoru like that? You, out of all people? Sheer embarrassment rushes over you like a wave. Out of instinct, you try to cover your face with your hands, to escape his strong gaze.

“No, don’t you ever hide yourself from me. Not after what we’ve just done. You are…absolutely gorgeous”, he murmurs.

“And I think I need to do that again.”

Sukuna

Your skin burns in sheer sensation where his fingertips tease you, his lips moving against your mouth oh too sweet.

What a coincidence that you met Ryomen Sukuna here at Shibuya. What a coincidence you’re now sitting on top of him while his mouth roams around yours so innocently. Soft kisses with Sukuna are something you never imagined the king of curses to enjoy. No, you imagined him rough in every minor aspect of his life, especially when it comes to his lover. Well, apparently that isn’t true. Right now, his lips brush over yours as if you’re porcelain that’s about to break, as if you are the most precious thing to ever exist.

“I don’t have that much time for you”, he mumbles into your parted lips.

“Why not?”, you pout while outlining his strong arms with your fingers.

Oh so gently, he starts placing soft kisses onto your cheek, your forehead, your ear. So tenderly that it feels like a soft breeze of warm air caressing you, so utterly peaceful that you’d never believe that this is actually him.  

“I have something to do here. Who knows when I’m able to gain control over that brat again.”

His low voice vibrates through your whole body. Truth is, you missed your lover way too much to let go of him now. You haven’t seen each other for what feels like forever. Each and every night, you craved his touch, waited for the perfect opportunity to get him back. There is no way in hell you’ll let him go like that now after sharing only a few warm kisses.

You don’t give him an answer. Instead, you let your hips fall onto his provocatively, keeping his head in place while your tongue begins a play you know all too well.

Because even though the king of courses has an unexpected weak spot for slow and sweet kisses, you know exactly what drives him over the edge, what he needs to lose his mind to your mouth.

Your lips crash against his without any mercy, tongue teasing him so violently that a moan escapes the usual so composed man. A curse who never even thought about love and affection, a man destined to kill each and everyone who stands in his way.

Except you. Somehow you managed to light a fire inside him that cannot be put out without your help. Or better, your kisses.

“I missed you”, you purr between two passionate kisses.

“So so much.”

Automatically, he pulls you even closer, allows his muscular frame to collide with yours. Ryomen Sukuna melts like butter in your hands.

And you love it.

“What are you doing to me”, he mutters into your mouth.

“You want me to leave?”

You part your lips from his ever so slightly. One innocent movement, just the sheer thought of pulling away from him with an outcome you know so well.

In an instant, you feel Sukuna’s arms wrapped around you even tighter while his tongue teases you until you can’t breathe anymore.

“Who said you’re allowed to leave?”, he grumbles.

“Stay right here”, he hisses while shoving his tongue into your mouth again.

His hands grab your face when he suddenly starts slowing down his movements again.

“Please”, he adds along with a soft kiss on your forehead.

Toji Fushiguro

You are screwed. Completely fucked, lost, in big trouble.

And the man who’s responsible for all that mess is grinning right into your face.

To be honest, you heard rumors about him. A man who isn’t able to produce cursed energy, who is so unbelievably strong despite it. A bounty hunter who kills jujutsu sorcerers when it’s decently paid, nothing but a troublemaker.

And hot. God, just the way he smirks at you makes your knees go weak-

Focus, this is goddamn serious.

“Would you mind removing that blade from my friend?”, you question dryly.

Now is not the time to thirst over someone who just pierced through your comrade. Well, the honored one, to be exact.

“Why? He’s your boyfriend?”, the man bites back with his sensual low voice.

“Hell no”, you reply a little too quick and disgusted.

“But I still care about him enough to ask you this.”

The unknown force of a man tilts his head before pulling the blade out of Gojo.

“I don’t need your help, (y/n).”

“You sure about that? Let me take over.”

“You? Don’t be ridiculous.”

Gojo’s stupid comment makes your blood boil almost instantly. Who does this guy even think he is? Just because he was lucky enough to get born with immense powers doesn’t mean you aren’t a decent jujutsu sorcerer yourself. Apart from the stinging fact that you are a woman.

And you’re definitely able to feel the stranger’s eyes all over you.

“Are you hard of hearing? Get lost and make sure Riko arrives at Tengen-sama’s safe”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

“And missing all the fun and fighting? Hell no.”

“Being alone with ya actually doesn’t sound bad”, the stranger replies with a smirk.

“What the hell would you want from her?”

“Seems like your dumb blue eyes aren’t useful after all, brat.”

Oh, how much you try to stop yourself from grinning ear to ear like an idiot and your cheeks to blush.

“Was that a compliment?”

It doesn’t matter, though. You can’t fuck this mission up. Something about his appearance tells you more than urgently that if that man gets close to Riko…

You have to prevent this. No matter what it costs.

“Depends. Did it work?”, the stranger replies.

Fuck, you hate the way your heart almost beats out of your chest. Or…do you?

“Who knows”, you purr.

His eyes all over you, take in your appearance with so much force that you feel like fainting for a second. Is that man flirting with you?

“I’m the one you’re fighting against.”

“I’m not interested in a spoiled brat like you. Get lost.”

He makes it look so easy. Grabbing Gojo by the throat mid-air, slamming his body into multiple nearby buildings. All of this without a single spark of cursed energy. All of this only by the sheer force of his muscular arms. Fuck, those forearms…

“So, watcha say, princess? Are ya in for chilling together?”

You feel like dying and flying at the same time. That fucking man was able to send Gojo straight to heaven with one arm. There is no doubt in the fact that he’d be able to kill you without you even noticing a single thing.

You bite your lip when your eyes start wandering around his toned torso and tight black shirt. But isn’t it your mission to do everything possible in order to keep Riko save? Especially when it means getting physical with a man like him. His eyes tell you that you need to keep him entertained if you stick to your plan. What could a girl like you possibly offer a guy like him?

“Depends on your definition of chilling. I’m not staying here for nothing.”

This is a dangerous game. One wrong movement, one unwise word and you’re dead without even Gojo being able to protect you.

“First tell me what’s yours. Any hidden talents apart from that whole jujutsu stuff?”

He roams around you like a hunter around its prey, eyes getting darker and darker each time they meet your gaze. Oh, this question definitely points to places you’ve never been before, so dirty and rough that you never allowed your thoughts to travel there.

“Maybe we need to find out”, you hum.

Your voice doesn’t sound like yours anymore. Like in trance, you give the unknown man in front of you dirty looks. This is for the mission exclusively.

Right?

“I know you’re trying to distract me. But fuck that and have some fine before I kill that brat.”

You force yourself to breathe out slowly and controlled. Of course, he wouldn’t fall for that. Someone who’s here to kill the plasma vessel and managed to slice through Gojo like through butter isn’t someone to be messed with.

Like in slow motion, you watch as he draws closer. He builds himself up in front of you with his shadow hanging over you threatful.

But those lips. Those oh so kissable lips paired with that handsome face of his.

“Scared?”, he mutters while mocking down at you.

A deep breath in. A deep breath out. Before you’re able to convince yourself otherwise, you press your lips against his.

Almost instantly, he grabs you by the waist and pulls you closer. But apart from the rough kiss you expected, his lips caress yours in the softest way possible. Gently, he holds onto your face while embracing you in a way you’ve never felt before.

Fuck, why does this have to be so good? Why was everything you expected from that man a steamy make-out session?

Your knees threaten so fail you when every minor movement of his mouth sends shivers down your spine. This shouldn’t feel so good, you shouldn’t melt like butter in his rough hands.

But you can’t help it.

“You definitely taste good”, he mumbles into your parted lips.

Your cheeks heat up in an instant. If someone would have told you you’d end up making out with a hot stranger to stop him from killing Riko and Gojo today, you would have called them insane.

And yet, here you are. Getting showered in soft kisses and held in a way you’ve never felt before.

“Gimme more, princess.”

Slowly but surely, the urge to feel him even closer, better, faster becomes unbearable. You grab him by his hair and pull him down while your mouth picks up the pace on its own. This isn’t enough. You need to feel him better than this.

“Fuck.”

A moan escapes your lips before you can stop it, hands wandering around his body without an aim. Oh, your lips never swelled up like that, never burned in such a sensation before. Fuck slow-kissing, fuck holding yourself back. Why would you ditch that opportunity when it’s clear that he wants you as well?

The stranger’s arms wrapped themselves around you tightly, leave you no room to escape. Over and over, your lips collide with each other until you feel dizzy.

“Sorry for interrupting your little make out session, but are you out of your fucking mind, (y/n)?”

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You know that voice all too well.

“Huh, should have killed you right on the spot”, the stranger remarks with his dark eyes still set on you.

“What a waste of time. Wait for me here, princess. I’ll be back when I killed that brat and the vessel.”

He lets go of you as sudden as he grabbed you, leaves your body aching for his touch and your mind racing back and forth.

“You can’t kill them!”, you shout after him.

“And I don’t even know your name.”

“The name’s Toji Fushiguro, princess.”

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[seasonal-brotp-prompts]

A friend of mine asked me once how I could tell the difference between experiencing romantic and platonic attraction. I'd like to restate my thoughts here, since I think they could be useful for some people!

First of all, Intensity =/= Romance. Platonic feelings can be just as strong as romantic ones, although the amatonormativity we live in pretends otherwise. Because of that, I used to often wonder if my squishes are actually crushes. Nowadays, I just go through a series of questions and feel much more at peace afterwards!

"Do I have a crush on this person?"

Ask yourself:

Do I want to kiss them?

On the mouth? With tongue?

Do I want them to kiss me?

Do I want to go on dates with them?

Alone? Would I like it more or less in a group setting with other friends?

Do I like the idea of being seen as a "pair?"

Do I want to live with them?

Forever?

Do I want to marry them?

What does an ideal wedding look like, in my head?

Do I like the idea of them confessing to me?

If I have any interest in children, am I interested in raising children alongside them?

Do I want to exchange gifts with them annually on dates like Valentine's and/or an anniversary?

Do I (in general) enjoy traditional romantic gifts like flowers or jewelry?

Would I enjoy receiving those gifts from the person in question?

If they told me they just got a new partner, would I feel negatively about that?

Do I feel that same negativity when other people I'd never be interested in romantically (family members, etc.) announce they have new partners? Or is it just the person in question?

If sex is a romantic thing for me, do I want to have sex with them?

Answering "yes" to a single one of these questions doesn't mean I have a crush. But answering "yes" to many of them would indicate romantic feelings.

For me, this is a relief, because when I apply these questions to my friends and squishes, I typically react with disgust and RESOUNDING "no"s. Kissing, dating, annual gift obligations, marriage, and co-parenting all squick me out and make me recoil.

A lot of aros (especially baby or questioning ones) might also answer "yes" to a hypothetical they haven't experienced themselves, but then change their answer to "no" later. I know I used to think being confessed to would be flattering (even by someone I didn't reciprocate), but now that it's happened to me a few times, I know how awkward and awful it is. Same with kissing; I thought I'd like it because everyone in media likes it, but actually trying it (with girls and boys) has firmly cemented me in the reality that I just hate mouth kissing.

But, I still thought it might be useful for some aros who struggle with their identity due to all the arophobia and amatonormativity trying to make them question their feelings!

(It might also be helpful for someone trying to figure out if they're gay/bi and have a crush on someone, idk)

[stark-ironman]

Something something something sugar daddy Hugh jackman because 😍😍

https://x.com/agathaharknssgf/status/1825671922245579244?s=46

Sugar Baby

A/N: Ughhhhhh the way I felt my insides get all tingly 😭if this is anywhere near good, let me know if I should do a part 2.

Warnings: Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby, small daddy kink, legal age gap, punching, mentions of blood, jealous Hugh, mirror sex.

Your doorbell rings as you're putting on your final shoe, hearing Hugh call out for you as he opens the door. You smile at him as he kisses your cheek and checks you out, grabbing your hand and spinning you.

"You look fantastic, princess." Hugh tells you while digging in his pocket and pulls something out. "Turn around." It's a soft command but you know better than to try and ignore it. He places the most beautiful necklace around your neck, watching as you admire it in the mirror.

"There's no way I can wear this. It's worth more than my apartment, hell more than my car. I'll feel really bad if something happens to it." Your anxiety starts getting the best of you and he kisses you softly, making you stop talking.

"I want you to keep it. We had a deal, remember?" His smooth, Australian accent whispers in your ear, making your knees weak. "I always said I hated expensive gifts." You try to reason but he tsks, looking in the mirror at you.

"You're mine, princess. You go with me places as my eye candy and we fuck when we get back, in return, I shower you with gifts and whatever else your heart desires." He states, running a hand up your thigh. Your heart skips a beat as you look at the mirror, watching Hugh admire your body while running his fingers anywhere he can, electricity following his touch.

"I'm real tempted to bend you over in front of his mirror and let you see how your body reacts to my touch," His fingers graze over your heat causing your breath to hitch before he pulls away, "Too bad we have to leave so we're not late." You take a deep breath, accepting his hand and he leads you out of your apartment.

Once in the car, he places a hand on your thigh and rubs his thumb over it softly. "When we get here, don't leave my sight." Hugh states softly, glancing over at you before turning back to the road. You nod and look out the window, watching buildings and cars pass by quickly before finally pulling up to the party.

"We're just here to make an appearance and see a couple friends, after that I'll take you home." He says getting out of the car before helping you out, handing his keys to the valet and leading you inside. You grip his hand tightly as he leads you through the crowd, feeling your anxiety creep up at the fact you don't belong around these rich, snobby people but you also won't turn Hugh down over something like this party.

-

About two hours after showing up, you tell Hugh you need to go to the bathroom and he tells you where to go, kissing you softly as you walk away. You follow his directions and use the bathroom, making sure to wash your hands and clean up before heading back out.

"You're Hugh's girl, right?" A random man asks as he walks up to you. You nod and he continues, "What are you doing with a man like him? He's too old for someone as young as you." You think back to what Hugh told you in the very beginning of your relationship about staying quiet when you're out with him and just let him take care of it but it's becoming very hard to do.

The guy steps towards you, touching your face but you flinch and step back from him, swatting his hand away. "I would appreciate you not touching me. Especially when you know Hugh doesn't like when people touch me." You try to say without stuttering. "Hugh doesn't know how to please a woman like you and you have no business being with him, especially when you're basically a nobody." He says stepping towards you again but he's thrown back as soon as he does and Hugh has him by the collar, staring down at his face.

"Is there a fucking problem here?" Hugh snarls, his Australian accent deepening and it sends a shock through you. "Ask your whore instead o-" Hugh punches him before he can finish his sentence, blood falling quickly down his face. "Call her that again and next time you won't be so lucky." His hand grabs yours and he leads you out, walking to the car.

He starts driving, white knuckling the steering wheel as he speeds through the city, all the way to his apartment in silence. You both head inside, taking off your shoes in the doorway before walking to his bedroom and you head to the bathroom.

You take off your jewelry and wipe off the makeup, walking back into bedroom to see Hugh standing over by the window.

"What all did he say?" He finally asks in a low but firm voice. "Just that I didn't need to be with you and needed to be with someone who could treat me right then said I'm a nobody." You say feeling tears fill your eyes as you relive the moment.

Hugh nods, turning towards you, "Do you think that's true? About needing someone better?" You shake your head, sitting on the bed. "I want to be with you." You say. "What about when he said you're actually nobody?" Another question and you shrug, "It's true. I am a nobody."

He slips his jacket off, loosening up his tie as he walks towards you, placing a hand on your face in the same spot the guy touched you. "He touched what's mine," His fingers run over your skin, "Tried tainting my beautiful girl with his sick touch."

His hands grab your face as he leans down and kisses you with hunger. "Stand up." He commands softly. You stand and he slides your dress off, grabbing your hand and leads you back to the bathroom.

You furrow your brows in confusion as he leads you to the counter. "Bend over, princess. I'm going to show you that you're not just a nobody to me, you're going to see that you are my entire world." He emphasizes on the word you, feeling your thongs get soaked.

He bends you over and holds your face in the mirror, looking at you with lust-blown eyes that have you damn near begging for him to go ahead and fuck you. Hugh slides his belt off, pushing his slacks and briefs down enough to pull his dick out.

His hand wraps around his base, pressing and rubbing the tip in your folds as if teasing you, then he finally slides in softly causing you to moan at the stretch.

His hips hit yours as he bottoms out and he grips your hips tightly, moving at a slow pace. "Don't ever worry about what anybody thinks about you," He grunts while unbuttoning his shirt, "You will always be somebody to me," His eyes stay locked on yours with what he says next, "You're mine, babygirl. Nobody will ever be able to do what I do to you, will they?"

You whimper, "No, daddy. I'm all yours." He smirks, speeding his movements up as he hits your sweet spot.

The sound of moans and skin slapping fills the bathroom. You look up at Hugh again to see his mouth slightly open, head close to falling back from pleasure with his shirt unbuttoned and his tie barely hanging on, causing you to groan at the sight. This man will literally be the death of you with how fucking good he looks to you.

"There you go, babygirl, clench around my cock. Do you like watching what I'm doing?" He asks with a smirk when he sees your fucked out face. You nod, reaching your hand behind you to grab him but he grabs both of your wrists and pulls them behind your back, gripping them with one hand and places the other on your hip.

He starts fucking into you at a brutal pace, causing you to cum unexpectedly but it doesn't stop him, you honestly think it's made him more feral and he moans at the way your insides are clinching around him.

"I think you can do another one for me." Hugh growls as he pulls you up, your back against his chest, and he wraps an arm around you until his fingers are on your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub before thrusting back into you.

His other hand comes up around your throat, squeezing just enough to apply pressure.

"Daddy..." You moan, causing him to move his hand faster. "Ruin these pants, babygirl. I want them soaked by the time I'm done with you."

His words send you over the edge, feeling a gush shoot out between your legs and he moans loudly, twitching inside of you and slowly thrusting inside of you.

He pulls out slowly, holding you close to him.

"Still have doubts, princess?" Hugh asks and you chuckle. "Maybe a little. I might need to be shown again." He laughs and kisses your shoulder, leading you to the shower.

"Let's clean somewhat up and I'll show you exactly who you are to me."

[midnightwriter21]

demon slayer hcs: motherly hashira!reader x the hashira pt 2

characters: fem!reader x muichiro, sanemi, mitsuri, obanai

AN: this is a pt 2 for the request from @danielle-marie

READ THE FIRST PART HERE

MUICHIRO

I LOVE THIS BABY SM U DONT UNDERSTAND

he's the hashira that ur most comfortable around

he was a hashira before u

but u get promoted and its an instinct

child.

must protect.

at first he probably gets annoyed by you

he's not used to someone caring for him the way that u do

but then one day ur sent on a long mission

maybe a few weeks long

and he finds himself missing something

of course he has no idea what it is that he's missing something

he completely forgot about u

but when you get back to the butterfly estate and he sees u

it clicks

he remembers

he missed you

he missed your overprotective nature

he missed your soft caring voice

he missed the way that you brush and style his hair

he REALLY missed that ^

walks up to u, grabs ur hand and tugs u away

doesn't care if you were talking to someone

and doesn't say a word

brings you to his favorite cloud watching spot with a tight grip on your hand

makes you sit down

and lays his head in ur lap

stop im squealing and kicking my feet from the cuteness

SANEMI

my guyyyyyy

have i ever told yall that i love him?

only in every single thing i post

anyways

he HATES you at first

lmfao rip u

your shy and quiet nature reminds him of giyuu

and if theres one person sanemi can't stand

its giyuu

therefore he don't fw u

and doesn't pay u much attention

UNTILLLLL

he witnesses u pulling genya by the ear to the infirmary after a mission

and telling genya tf off for pulling som stupid shit during the mission

+100 respect right there

not only are u actually talking

but ur screaming??

at his brother??

and taking care of him at the same time?????

my guy is lucky if he doesn't pop a boner right there lmfaooo

starts paying more attention to u after that

and is noticeably a lot nicer and calmer around you

will blush beet red and deny tf out of it if the other hashira comment abt his change of heart

but def develops a soft spot for u

MITSURI

SWEETEST HUMAN BEING TO EVER EXIST EVER

she loves u

ofc she does she's the love hashira

but in mitsuri's mind how could she not absolutely ADORE u

not only are you breathtakingly beautiful in her eyes

but she sees the way u interact with the younger slayers

how u genuinely care for everyone's wellbeing

if she wasn't looking for a husband she would wife u tf UP

she still might lol

mitsuri is gonna go out of her way to become friends with you

she's inviting u to her estate for girl's night with shinobu

she's dragging u along to her favorite restaurant for lunch

she's inviting u to join her at the hot springs to relax

she really enjoys ur presence

even if ur shy she thinks ur very soothing to be around

she loves when you do her hair!!

and when u cook for her??

mitsuri alrdy eats a lot

but if u made the food for her??

girl is not letting a CRUMB go to waste

loves the way u take care of everyone

especially when u take care of her

10/10 would recommend a mitsuri

OBANAI

someone pls love this man

he needs it so bad

so dude had SHIT parents

like bad bad

so when he sees ur interactions with the younger slayers he's prob a lil put off at first

like ma'am?

this is the demon slayer corps??

we don't have time for all ur mothering and coddling

but then he's injured on a mission

and waiting in the infirmary for shinobu to show up and patch him up

and then u bust through the doors???

confused asf

shinobu is on a mission and you've been helping out in the infirmary

so looks like ur the one taking care of him today

and turns out his injury is bad enough to land him an extended stay in his lil hospital bed

and after a few days of u taking care of him

with ur red face and soft stuttered words

he learns that you're not so bad

and he actually enjoys being around you

and being taken care of

won't voice this tho

but when Aoi comes in to give him his meds one day he gives himself away by accident

with a

"where's y/n?"

he's a blushing grumbling mess after that lol

after he discharged best believe the next time he gets injured he's not even going to the infirmary

he's hunting u tf down

nobody else gets to take care of him except YOU

and thats period.