#I mean I still love the show and always will
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writella · 3 days ago
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Here He Is, Finally
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Synopsis: “When’s it gonna be my turn? Open me up, tell me you like it, fuck me to death, love me until I love myself—” This is a story about the inner struggles of a desiring Daryl who just wants to be free of the perceptions the town, and his own mind, have put on him, so he can love you and love himself, in the ways he’s always wanted to.
—or: As Daryl becomes the talk of the town, insecurity sets in that hinders him from having sex with you— the thing you most want to do.
Details: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader, ambiguous age gap, mixing early seasons’ + later seasons’ personality of Daryl, the town being mean but also thinking Daryl’s hot because he is, discussions of gossiping, insecurity, and poor self-image, Daryl fights someone :), and smut— unprotected + he’s nervous but then it gets good, and it’s their/Daryl’s/your first time in whatever way you want it to be.
A/N: He’s literally me (I’m a girl).
— With love from writella. ♡
There it was. You finally said it. You told Daryl that you were ready to have sex.
When you told him, the two of you were having a quiet morning and he was about to leave. Pulling yourself up to his height, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and he took you by the waist, one hand reached up to hold your head, rubbing his thumb there. Good, you had thought, he’s reciprocating. That let you know he was okay, but still, underneath, you knew he was embarrassed about last night. You weren’t going to bring it up though, not then. You wanted to move forward, to show him that you didn’t care. “Daryl,” you started, words slow, uneasy in voice but sure in intention, as you whispered to him from above his shoulder, “I just wanted to tell you– that– I feel like I’m ready.” You paused for a moment. “And whatever you feel, I’m okay with it. Just talk to me.” As silence ensued, you kissed him on the cheek, “I love you,” you said, and pulled back.
Daryl kept his hands in yours as he looked at you. His features were sad and soft as much as they were unreadable. He kissed you on the forehead. “I love you too,” he said– it wasn’t the first time you two had exchanged those words– and then he left. Just like that.
You had no expectation for how he would react. You only knew he wouldn’t give you a flat-out no, so this, was understandable. But still, there was something hollow about it, even if his kiss and words were tender. It was another relationship moment that reminded you that these things never happen as they do in fairytale romances.
You see, you had always pictured him or whoever you were with at the time, bringing you close, kissing you, their fingers trailing down and under the hem of your skirt or pants, asking you if you were ready, if you were sure, if you wanted them to go slow, slower, but Daryl— as it turns—was incredibly pure, or at least pretending to be. Either too nervous or sensitive about these things, possibly inexperienced, or much more innocent with his intentions than you ever expected. It’s like you knew Daryl like the back of your hand, but when it came to anything about you as a couple, his history, who he’s dated before– you were clueless. You didn’t know what it could be.
One thing you did suspect, although Daryl has never told you, is that he thought of you as precious, something to be delicate with, like a flower. Sometimes you’d tell him he didn’t have to be so slow or soft when you were kissing– he was always a little sloppy anyway– and whenever there was a task to get done you’d be the first to tell anyone you could do it yourself, he knew this about you. And it’s not like he babies you or anything, that was never his way. Like when you two were fighting walkers, or doing work around the communities, or when he’s teaching you how to do something. You’ve even told him that he could be a bit demanding sometimes, grouchy, rough, and he agreed– that was true. He didn’t do it on purpose, the whole being hard on you thing. But alone? When he was on top of you or you over him? Waking up to you? Feeling your hand reach for his own in the dark? Even just eating dinner with you? The guy was a mess! A little boy, even. Heart racing. Eyes averted at times.
Whenever he nipped you, on the lips, or the neck, maybe he pushed you on the bed too hard, grabbed your waist too tight that it squeezed the bone, there were always silent apologizes of gentle circles, sweet kisses, and tongue licks to soothe the pain or possible bruises he left on you. And sometimes, when you’re home alone or you shower together, and he starts to kiss you or pull you in by the waist, he almost always sets out with the intention that this time he’d finally do it— the sex thing— he always wanted to. Only if you knew! Honestly, he’d feel like such a pervert if he let you know how many times, both before and after you got together, that he’s thought of being inside you, or you on your knees for him, or him kissing up your thighs and tasting you– he genuinely thinks he’d really like it, all of it, but especially that. But every time you’ve kissed and kissed enough, he’d get too overwhelmed about how to proceed or too nervous to even try. He tells you that you two should shower or go to bed or that he has to go for whatever reason. So all you’ve done is grind on each other, a lot, but that’s about it. You know he’s gotten hard and you’ve gotten wet, but you’re not sure if he’s ever noticed. He wants to put his hands in your pants, he wants to rip your blouse, he wants to squeeze your tits and slap your ass, but every time he thinks about actually doing it, he feels it's too forward or raunchy, or maybe it's not actually like him in the way he’s pictured in his head, or maybe you’d hate it, and specifically the way he did it. And he has thought about doing it slowly, romantically, but every time he thinks about doing that, he feels stupid, thinking he’ll come off as clumsy and pathetic to you. He doesn’t exactly get the concept of slow and sexy yet— reaching up, breathing you in, letting his fingers linger, or hands caress and massage. It’s not that he couldn’t do it though, or so he thinks, if he really tries; it's that doesn’t even think he’s sexy to begin with.
The only thing Daryl knows for sure are the things people call him when they think he’s not listening.
“Deep and… grunty,” one much too young girl said to her equally young friend who giggled, indicating her agreement even if she was too afraid to verbalize it. “I just like his voice,” the first girl said, “it’s sexy.” Or, “Wild,” as one of Aaron’s friends whispered to him, “Like he could throw me around, do it in front of the whole town, and wouldn’t care who saw.” To which Aaron scoffed and replied, “That’s literally my fucking friend.” But in truth, it’s not like he hadn’t thought about it himself, how Daryl looked underneath his vest and button-downs– it was just once though!– he promises!– as if he needed to explain it to himself. He even told his husband about it; they had agreed on Daryl’s attractiveness. Eric called it “rugged,” and they laughed about it over dinner. Now, Aaron would repeat that word as he overheard another group of ladies discussing ways to describe or trademark some of the male leaders in town. As Aaron passed by, “rugged,” was his suggested alternative to the word “beast” when one older lady described Daryl, in a way that would make anyone not a part of the conversation cringe, “Beast, sexy armed beast.” But Aaron was only met with silence and weird hums until a girl replied that “sexy armed rugged,” doesn’t make any sense. To that, all the ladies agreed. As Aaron walked away, wanting nothing more with this kind of conversation about his friends, he caught the new suggestion: “Daddy,” a girl had said with the widest smile on her face— she wasn’t a teenager, but it was obviously her first time being vocal about these things. She must have felt she said something so salacious. And as much as Aaron wanted to gag, there was also a part of him that reluctantly stopped himself from laughing and blushing with the rest of the woman. One of them rolled her eyes saying, “They can’t all be daddy,” to which another girl said, “But they kind of are!” and then he was too far away to hear anymore.
Daryl didn’t get any of it.
The only ones that truly bothered him though were when they added, “I know he’s a little ugly but,” or “I know he’s not my type but,” or “I know he looks a little dirty but,” “And he never does his hair but,” “And he’s not like the smartest but,” but, but, but—
It all made him feel bad about himself; more confused.
Even when it was just generally flattering, he found it hard to take any of it as a compliment. Sometimes he would, maybe the whispers of him being “kinda hot,” on the days when he’d return to his cut-off sleeved shirts, or maybe those moments when a lady would be talking to her friend saying how he’s “handsome,” or how she just knows “he’s packing–big–” and what’s better than a big dick, right? At least that is what Daryl thought– it's the bit of Merle in him– and he bets Negan wished he had one— Daryl was pretty sure Negan’s is a tiny little bitch just like his personality. No one gets to kill one of his best friends and gets more than a three-incher. Right, J.C.? If you’re even up there? Not that Daryl would mind if you were or weren’t, or cares if you did, he wouldn’t mind– Daryl didn’t think about religion that much anymore. And on that note, he realizes that he doesn’t do a lot of the same things he used to anymore. Like the way he would walk around without a care, even confidently sometimes, not thinking about how much he swung his arms or the way he talked or the way his hair fell that day. There was this one time, as he was walking over to Rick in the garden, telling him he couldn’t find whatever particular tools Rick wanted, he yelled, “They ain’t there no more, Rick!” that he heard some older guy say to his friend that Daryl sounded like a “human gremlin,” to which the friend tried to one-up him by saying, “more like a garbage disposal.” Then another day, some girl said he looks like a “wet rat sometimes,” especially when his hair is flat or, as said in the phrase, wet; and he never forgot it, either of them or anything anyone has ever said about him. It’s always been like this. Even when he was a kid.
Daryl tries to remember that people have just gotten too comfortable now that Alexandria is back on track, at least that’s basically what you had said. One day, Daryl came into your room, huffing and throwing himself on your desk chair, saying, “Some people don’t know how to keep their mouths shut.” To which you had asked him what was wrong, but he shook his head.
“Well,” you begin, responding to his un-answer, “some gossip is misogynized. It used to be a way for women to spread information, but–” you avoid the lecture— “I get what you mean.” You look at him, seeing the way his eyes still drift. “I can’t tell you everything, but Rosita and I had heard some people speculate on the whole her and Saddiq and Gabriel thing.” You shook your head, your eyes rolling a little, “It made her upset. I could tell. But it took her a while to talk about it. I think some people forget they can talk behind closed doors now. Our porches aren’t as private as they used to be, and people have gotten mean.” To that, you both nodded in agreement and then you climbed toward the edge of your bed to hold his hand. Something was obviously wrong. “Has anyone said anything about you?”
Again, he shakes his head and you have to leave it at that— all he wanted to do was ask questions about you now, and he wouldn’t let you change the subject.
But at home, alone, he stares at the mirror, trying to see what other people see: handsome, rugged, possibly wild… but all he saw were things he didn’t l understand, things that made him feel he wasn’t good enough. Did they really think he was attractive? And if so, why did they always have to bring up that there was something completely unattractive about him before the compliment? And why were those remarks always easier to believe? Or was it all just some weird fantasy they felt dirty about having? And was being rude behind his back was some sort of justification for it? Was it all of them above? Most importantly, did you think any of this?
Next Saturday, a week after you told him you were ready, the town gathered in the church during the evening for the monthly communal meal. This was something that started during the rehabilitation of Alexandria, another thing that the population was getting too big to contain, but Rick and Judith liked it. So, Michonne agreed to keep it— for now— despite reasoning that “this is what holidays are for, Rick.”
It was about an hour in, 6pm and sunset now past. Some people who had been busy working were still filing in, little by little, but for the most part, a majority of citizens were seated, eating, and chatting. There was a steady rain outside that made everything smell fresh, and if it wasn’t for all the chatter, you could even possibly hear the light drumming on the church walls. Everyone was quite pleased about it, spring seemed to be coming early.
Daryl had not come to see you last night and left early this morning so you didn’t know where he went or what he did, but what you did know for certain is that he never carried an umbrella. Therefore, when he finally arrived, 30 minutes later, his hair was soaked, and since he didn’t even wear his jacket, the long sleeves of his shirt were drenched with water droplets sticking to his vest and shoes that sloshed and left wet footprints on the wooden floor.
Obvious to say, he was noticed by all.
There is a fine line with Daryl between not giving a fuck about how he was perceived, and caring far too much while not willing to do anything about it, and of course, with all that has happened in the past few weeks, it was the ladder. He hated being the center of attention, but it was hard for him to not be noticeable, it never was, especially now. He felt ridiculous.
As he walks onto the stage– where all the tables of food are placed– you follow him.
“Hi,” you say next to him.
“Hi,” he replies, calling you by your nickname kindly enough, but not ever looking at you.
“You know, I think Rick was hoping you were coming back on time. I don’t know why he put all that stuff on his chair if it wasn’t for you or Michonne and Michonne sat with me.”
He simply nods, humming as acknowledgment.
“Daryl,” you move to the other side of the table as he gathers his food so he can look at you. Quietly you say, “We don’t have to talk about it now, but– I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable the other day. Or if it was about the night before, you just have to tell me.” You poke his shoulder, “You’re acting weird and you know it.”
“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” is all he grumbles.
“But I still want to say I’m sorry if I did.”
Daryl quickly finds some napkins to dry his hands and wrists with and comes over to place them on the sides of your head to kiss you there. “You ain’t got anything to be sorry about. Alright? I’m fine.” His hands drop and holds you by the neck for a moment, the movement makes some water droplets bleed onto your clothes, you feel it but you say nothing. The only thing Daryl notices from you is that your eyes look almost identical to his despite the differing color– his mood is affecting yours, but he doesn’t know what to say right now to make you feel better so he opts for something he always know is true, “You’re perfect. You know that right?” And I’m just fuckin’ weirdo, he wants to add, but he doesn’t.
You were smiling at him. He doesn’t get it. He looked like an idiot all soaking wet and you were smiling at him. There couldn’t be a better reaction, but still, it’s moments like this where he can’t believe you’re real. All you say is “Okay,” never taking a compliment, just like him, instead of finding a way to break-up with him like he always nearly suspects. “Come to me when you finish, alright? We can leave if you want?”
“Alright,” he responds and you leave him be.
As Daryl goes down the rows of tables picking out what he wants, he heads to the last one. The way the event was set up was that everyone who came early had the opportunity to take a seat at one of the four tables that were placed along each corner of the stage and the rest sat in the pews, but despite the higher vantage point the stage gave, that did not mean Daryl couldn’t hear what those around the stage were saying around him— as always. It must be a hunter’s ear or something.
“Be careful,” a woman says smirking, her eyes gesturing to Daryl. “Let’s hope he doesn’t wet us.” The friend in front of her snickers, looking back to see that Daryl is now by the table just above theirs. Whispering, the first woman continues, shaking her head, “I don’t know how Rick or the girl put up with it. She just acted like nothing was wrong. He’s mudding up the whole damn church!”
Daryl keeps his back turned. This ends up being his last straw. “How about you shut the fuck up,” he mutters.
“Excuse me?”
Louder, facing no one in particular he yells, “Why does everyone act like I don’t got ears?”
You look up, synchronized with everyone in the church and get up with Rick who is already slowly approaching him, but Michonne yanks you down.
“What is your problem?”
To that, he turns back to the woman, “How ‘bout you say what you said again and stop talking shit under your breath.”
“What?”
“I said,” he starts yelling again, “if you got somethin’ to say about me lady, say it to ma’ face. That’s what I said.”
“Hey, what’s goin’ on?” Rick asks almost warningly, but not before someone yells, “Who the fuck are you talking to, man?” from one of the aisles in the back. It was her husband, now standing from his seat. He and his wife make eye contact, and instantly he’s moving closer.
Daryl walks to the edge of the front stage, barking a quick “move” without any pause and Eugene and Siddiq violently bob their heads and grab their plates as Daryl steps on the table and jumps to the floor.
Rick tries to push him back but it’s no use, Daryl pushes him in return and he and the husband are charging at each other, speaking over each other: “What did you say to my wife?” “Told her to shut the fuck up. Thought I said it loud enough–” “Nah, man you were mumblin’ like always–” “Or d’you need me to say it louder with ma garbage disposal mouth?” Daryl pushes him, “Huh?” “I’m not fighting you, man.” But Daryl persists, getting in the man’s face, their noses almost touching. He whispers, “You know, maybe your wife’s got everyone’s name in her mouth because she don’t fuckin’ like you.” The man keeps shaking his head, but Daryl surprises him, he isn’t the only one the town gossips about. “She’s fucking Mark,” he tells him. That was true, and people knew it. “He’s your friend, ain’t he? Maybe that’s why she’s always–” But no, not him, her husband did not know, so he punches, straight in the eye. Daryl almost smiles as he takes the next swing.
The two are tussling, but not for long as Rick takes the chance to get Daryl from behind, taking him away with Gabriel’s help. “You done?” Rick asks as Gabriel holds him on the other side, His grip honestly does nothing though and Daryl shrugs him off. Poor Gabe looks like he’s about to have an aneurysm to see the church– practically his church– in such disarray.
With that, and with Daryl raging too much to contain, he shrugs Rick off and stomps out.
Michonne finally takes her hand off of your wrist and you make you way to leave too. As you walk, you look back to Rick who is already trying to follow, and wordlessly tell him that it’s your turn now, then, turn to awkwardly dodge the people still standing in the aisle and collect your things to go.
Daryl was not hard to find. It almost made you think he wanted to be found or knew you’d go after him— he’s being such a child today. Despite the town lights, you hold out your flashlight to find him sits on a tree stump on the edge of town next to one of his favorite trees. The leaves did a terrible job of covering him from anything but you knew he didn’t care. It was almost laughable honestly. Still, you take pity, he was yours and you were concerned. “I know you don’t care about getting wet,” you say with no malice or disappointment in your voice, “but all that water in your shoes can cause blisters. You didn’t even wear the ones that don’t have holes.”
He just shakes his head, as always, and water droplets fall from the tips of his hair.
“Remember when that happened to me and you drained them with needles even though Saddiq told us not to?”
He stares at you, stone-faced for a moment. “You’re the one who told me to do it.”
“Because they hurt really bad!”
“You were being a baby.”
“Really?” You ask ironically. “So if I’m the baby why are you acting like one right now? It’s been raining since morning, Daryl! Not even a jacket? You’re obviously upset about something but I’m not going to continue this with you in the rain, looking like a sad, wet puppy.”
He sneered at the comment, wet.
“Let’s just go home, okay? Let me take you.”
“We don’t live together.”
You frown. “Don’t be mean, Daryl,” you gently warn. “You know what I mean.”
You hold your hand out for him, water collecting in your palm as you wait. It was more of a gesture than actual help as you two were still a few feet away from each other. “Please? You could have already ran away on your bike or gone home and locked your door but you didn’t. I don’t know what’s going on but don’t act like I don’t know you.”
Reluctantly, he gets up, walking to you in almost slow motion. You wish you could call him the drama queen he is right now, but it was time to get out of this rain– you would hold it in for the time being.
As you enter the small place, you make no conversation. You simply get to work and he doesn’t stop you. You take off your rain jacket and boots, then you take off his vest and boots. You drag him to his room and hang up your sweater and take off your jewelry, then you empty his pant pockets. Finally, you hold his hand as he trails behind you and into the bathroom. You unbutton his shirt and unzip his pants and place them all in the hamper. He takes off his underwear and helps you take off your clothes too. When you’re done, you turn on the water and go in, he follows. You bathe and wash his hair in silence. You are tender and gentle, and he knows it, he appreciates it, but his mind is loud, and angry, and he feels so pathetic as you wash him like he’s 5 years old. You turn around to start washing yourself as he takes care of cleaning his legs and lower area. After he’s done, all he can do is look at you, your body, the soft humming you can’t help but do when you shower. It’s exactly as he said, you’re perfect. He wants to bang his head against the wall because of it.
When you two finish, you sit on his bed, wearing one of his white shirts and a pair of boxers, he wears the same except his bottoms are sweatpants. He hates these kinds of casual clothes actually, he’s only okay with wearing it sometimes, but he has nothing else at the moment. All he had to do was give his clothes to Carol to wash, but he didn’t. He hasn’t really done anything this week.
“Ms. Ellen is a bitch.” You finally say, giving him an ice pack for his eye. “And so is Mr. Gary and they both have the whiteness names in the world. And they’re both lazy as fuck and reek of nepotism because they only had one of the biggest houses and biggest egos in Alexandria because they were friends with Deanna and they’re still bitter that their house being destroyed in the fire— which I get— but it’s not okay that she uses her bitterness to talk shit about everyone. And it’s also not okay that you used your anger to fight someone who didn’t deserve it. That wasn’t like you.”
“Maybe it is. You didn’t always know me.”
“Well, sure, can act like a tough—”
“I don’t act like anything—”
“Fine, I’ll change it: Can you be a tough guy? Yeah. But do you pick fights and make big scenes in front of the kids like that? No, you don’t.” You stare at him, tapping him on the knee and forcing him to look at you. “You not talking is obviously not working, Daryl. Just tell me what’s wrong.”
He takes a moment. “I just—”
“What?”
“I don’t want to disappoint you,” he finally says lowly.
“I don’t think you could,” you answer, “I’m not even now, I’m just frustrated. Or confused really. Why do you think you would?”
He lowers his ice pack, “Cause I’m not fuckin’ Rick.”
You laugh a little. “Well, I did have my suspicions, but great, that’s good to know. I’m glad you’re not fucking Rick.”
He sucks his teeth. “Be serious.”
“Have you not realized I’ve been trying to be? For weeks now? It obviously doesn’t work.” Both of you look down as you continue, “And I finally tell you how I feel and what I want and you just leave and barely talk to me for the rest of the week. And before you even mention coming into my bed at night or saying goodnight or good morning to me and telling me what you’ll do that day, that’s not talking, it's just saying stuff. At some point I can’t always chalk it up to Oh, that’s just Daryl; at some point, a person starts thinking that they're the problem. That I’m the problem! That I’m not good enough.”
A tear falls down your cheek involuntarily, then another; you were clenching your jaw after you finished speaking but it was no use. After everything, all the bullshit and the girls and the punch to his eye that really fucking hurt even though it was his fault he got it, this is actually the worst thing that has happened to Daryl in the past months– making you cry.
“You’re more than good enough,” he says in his mumble, still not looking at you. “I’m just stupid.”
“You’re not stupid!” You yell frustratingly as you wipe tears away. “Stop talking down about yourself!”
Daryl looks off into the window. He wants to speak, he does. The words are all on the tip of his tongue but they cannot come out, they never do. As he watches you wipe away your last tears, he thinks everyone is right, that that guy is right, he has a garbage mouth, his voice is poison. He never makes any sense and he always says the wrong thing. Why speak anyway?
“I can’t help you or at least try to understand if you don’t say anything. I know it's hard— I don’t like doing it either. I was scared to tell you what I did last week. But it just starts with one thing.”
“It's too hard to.”
“But I’ve never judged you, right? ”
He shakes his head. You haven’t.
“The first thing that comes to your mind when I say, ‘what’s wrong?’, what is it? Just say it. I don’t care what it is. I’m not going to judge you, I’m not going to say you’re wrong, anything—”
“People think I’m ugly,” he interrupts, “I’ve heard them say it.”
Your eyes widen, in shock for him and in shock that people could still care about such stupid things right now. “Who said that to you?”
He shakes his head. “That’s why I mentioned Rick. No one says stuff like that about Rick.”
“Well, I don’t want you to be like Rick and you don’t have to be.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is?”
He gestures to himself, slapping his hands on his thighs, “Look at me.”
There’s something about the way his hand then reaches to cover his eyes in frustration, the way he slides it down to scratch his beard, accidentally magnifying to you the wisps of salt and pepper among the brown that gives you a clue to what he means. “I’m not some little girl, and I haven’t been for a long time.”
“I know, but you’re not my age either. And I don’t always think about you when it comes to it, it’s about me- I think about me.”
“So what about it? When it comes to the hair on your head and your eyes and the way you talk— that has nothing to do with how old you are, that’s just who you are. You didn’t choose to look as you do. And you and Rick have always looked the same age if I have to mention him, and his beard is whiter than yours at this point. Neither of you look old, or bad.” Your words do nothing so far. “You also have a better build than plenty of people in town. You’re stronger too.”
“But when they talk about Rick, all they say is that he talks too much and that he’s bossy and hardass and at least that’s true.”
You couldn’t help but smile, almost laughing a bit at that. It kind of was true.
“I’ve never heard anyone say things about him the way they say about me. Never anything about how he looks. But when they talk about me— they think I’m a fuckin’ animal.” There is silence after this. The word wild lingers in his mind and animal in yours. Again you want to ask, who could say that and have they not realized all Daryl has done for this place? Then, the more you listen, the more you realize that hidden beneath those with endless respect are some with hearts of cruelty and minds stuck in the regular old world ways that don’t exist anymore. “And sometimes, when I think about why you like me, I think that maybe it’s despite other things.”
“Despite?”
“Despite.” He practically spits.
“We all have bad qualities though. We’re not perfect.”
“I mean that I’m not some regular good looking guy.”
“Why would I want regular?” Your smile fades as his sad eyes persist. “Daryl, I can’t change your mind or make you feel the way I do about you, but why can’t you trust that I like you, and that I want to be around you? And that I’m,” you blush, “very attracted to you and I’ve felt like an embarrassing teenage girl the past few months waiting and trying to get you to have sex with me!” Quietly you say, “Have you not realized how much I really want you? How much I care? Everyday I feel lucky.”
He can’t take it. “Guess it’s like you said— can’t believe it if I don’t see it myself.”
His mouth is screwed shut, his throat tight, but just like you, it’s no use, a tear rolls down his cheek. Immediately you hug him. He holds you tightly in return and even though it makes your ribs hurt a little, you let him. All of this makes you see how much you two are alike than you’ve ever realized.
“You know,” you say into his hair, “there was this one time, I was up super early and couldn’t go back to sleep so I went out for a walk. I passed by Olivia’s house and she waved me over from her window and asked me if I could help her restock the pantry before Rick came later in the day to check it because she had this huge migraine. Well, that turned into me doing the whole thing for her. She said she was going inside for a break and some water and the next thing I know she’s asleep on her couch! And you know how her niece lives with her? I guess she runs in the morning and while I was finishing up, her and her friend lean up against one of the garage doors and I hear them talking. I was just about to open the door to leave but then she says, ‘She’s sweet but kind of a kiss-ass, right? Like a try-hard?’ And then her friend goes, ‘Yeah, she really wants to be one of them,’ ‘But all she is, is just Daryl’s little girlfriend.’” Daryl lets go to face you, his eyes incredulous just as yours were when he said someone called him ugly. “And then they started saying how I insert myself into places or something, so thought if I came out right then and they see me having done Olivia’s job for her… I didn't want them to get an up-close look of them being right. So I waited until they went in the house and then I left and for the whole rest of the week I was upset because I thought I was becoming friends with those girls but really I wasn’t, and I questioned if Rick and Michonne or Rosita or Glenn and Maggie even thought of me as a friend because they actually like me or if I’m even good enough to be one or if it’s only because I’m associated to you that they care to talk to me. I felt pathetic too.” You pause. “So, I’m really sorry, Daryl. You don’t deserve to feel like you’re being picked on in the town you live in— in the place you helped create.”
“It ain’t your fault.”
“That doesn’t make a difference. I should have said something.”
“You didn’t have to. I wanted that to happen.”
“But I wish I knew. Cause I would have if I knew. I feel like I let Michonne stop me because I didn’t understand. And all I’m saying is whether I've had it as bad as you or not, I do get it. And I’m angry for you. And you don’t have to be embarrassed to tell me things like this. It was dumb of me to keep my feelings in, just like you do with everything.”
Daryl swipes his hair to the side, parts of it are dry and waving while other areas are still wet, making him think about the rat joke. “No one likes you because of me,” he says. “You’re likable because you’re you and you care. And fuck those dumb-ass girls. They’re idiots for saying that.” He rubs your thigh. “I didn’t say anything the other day because when we were in the shower the night before I,” God, he feels stupid, “I got hard and you saw it and I realized it was the first time you saw it like that before and, I don’t know, I got scared.”
“Did you think that I’d think you’re ugly?”
“I don’t know.”
“Daryl,” you tisk, “after the amount of times we’ve showered together already?”
He gets defensive, “I don’t know! Felt different.”
“People usually get excited to know their partner is excited because of them.”
“I just feel like you’re gonna be disappointed.”
“Why do you always think that? I don’t have any expectations. I just want you to show me you love me.” You begin to look nervous, “I want to feel wanted too.”
“But I do… I do want you.”
“Then show me.”
“I don’t know how.”
You try to think, “Daryl— what is it that you picture when- when you want to do it?”
“I picture you,” he says simply.
“You do?” Your face is immediately warm.
He laughs, “Of course I do.”
“Well what do I do? Or what do you do to me?”
“Depends.”
“Pick one,” you say, almost desperately.
“Sometimes it just starts with what we always do. Kissin’. Maybe you’re on top of me.”
You waste no time; you get on top of him.
“And I press you down.” Daryl’s hands are now heavy on your hips, your hands are on his chest, you rock into him slowly.
“And sometimes I think about you bouncing on me or-” he pauses, the way you rock and the way he pushes up to you hitting a perfect spot of friction that makes the both of you gasp.
“Say it,” you tell him.
“I’m fucking you from behind. Or you're on the bottom and I’m going hard or being all gentle and shit like you but I don’t know how.”
“You know we can do all that, right?”
Daryl is red. Both you and him are surprised at yourself, but his bashfulness almost brings it out of you naturally. And honestly, your jacked and grumpy dilf boyfriend has left you repressed for far too long— you’re horny.
Suddenly, you move yourself onto one of his thighs and start palming his bulge as you rock. “Do I do this in your dreams?”
He almost groans, “Now you do.”
You move yourself from his thigh and lay down to start kissing him. He reciprocates, grabbing your face and pulling you close. Daryl starts nipping at your neck and you try your hardest not to yelp so he won’t stop. As you two continue, your slick starts to wet his boxers and you press your legs together as he gets harder under his sweatpants.
“Have you ever noticed how wet I get when we kiss?”
“Only at night,” it’s hard for his words to come out as you continue palming him, “when you don’t have clothes on.”
“And you never did anything about it?” You whine. “Do you know how bad I need you? How much I think about you?”
“I think about you more.”
“You do?
“Yes.” Daryl swallows, whimpering a little. You now stroke him, his dick riding up against his thigh, and it feels too good. “What- What do I do in your dreams?”
“You lay me on the bed and put your dick in me and fuck me and it feels amazing,” you say between hot breaths. “And you’re not scared to do it.”
“I wanna do it.”
“So, please, Daryl, do it. I want it so bad.”
Daryl uses your words as courage. He takes you off of him and goes over you.
You both take off your shirts and he strips you from his boxers and him from his sweatpants.
Finally, without regret or without him turning away you see his cock stand. It’s proud, meaty, and you can’t lie, a little scary, but you’ll never tell him, even if your widening eyes give you away. It’ll fit, you assure yourself. You won’t be afraid.
“You okay?” He asks, timidity setting in again.
But you nod assuredly. “Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
You pout, he’s stalling. “When you look at me, what do you see?”
“Beautiful.”
“And you're handsome. No pretenses. No exceptions.” You come up on your knees to face him, kissing his lips softly. “It’s like we said, we’ve dreamed about this.”
You lay down again, and Daryl places his hands on your inner thighs to spread them, making space for himself. You watch as takes hold of himself, mouth agape and pumping himself a few times as he stares at your body before slowly entering you. Your pussy is drooling at the sight.
Your eyes instantly close and scrunch. Although it worries Daryl, he’s glad you’ve shut them so he can continue looking up and down— up at your face to see if you’re in pain and down as he watches his cock enter you for the first time. You were incredibly tight to him, tighter than he ever imagined, he wasn’t used to this feeling and he liked it, a lot. It made his stomach clench and all his muscles flex as his breathing gets heavier, trying to stop the possibility of him moaning at the sight of it all.
“Are you okay?”
It was big and there was something about it that felt good but it hurt, the stretch indescribable, but you nod and tell him, “I like it,” because that was true, and everything else felt like too much to explain right now, your thoughts almost dissipating.
“You sure?”
You just nod again, whining.
“Alright,” he says, putting his hands on the bed to start.
Once more your eyes screw shut. He almost takes himself out before he pushes back into you again. He doesn’t know if he went slow enough but he tried. Your eyes wrinkling because of how hard you closed them doesn’t help though. He wants to tell you to relax but he’s not even relaxed himself to even make it sound believable.
He tries again, not going so far out this time and slowly goes back in to the hilt again, so slowly in fact he thinks that must have been awkward for you. He stops, tries one more time, then stops again. Your sounds seem like you’re hurt. He knows you’ll say it’s just pain and adjustment to his size but he instantly perceives it as disgust. He knows it’s not, but he can’t help it, he can’t. He must be ‘too much’; ‘too big,’ that’s what it is. Those are things he has heard in porn tapes Merle used to give him or things he noticed in porno mags he maybe used to read that he had found in a store near Hershel’s farm all those years ago, and supposedly it was a good thing for it to be too much, but now, look at you: you were in pain. And it was taking everything in him not to ram into you. He felt pathetic, again. Stupid, again. Like he didn’t know what he was doing. Maybe he should just withdraw right now, clean you up, try to give you a sympathetic look through his hair that said he was sorry for defiling you and not even make you feel an ounce of pleasure in the process. Everyone was right, he is a joke.
“Daryl,” you say, looking up at him, “you don’t have to keep stopping for me. I just need to relax and you just need to be slow. I think I can take it.”
“I know,” he responds, kissing your forehead.
“Close your eyes,” you tell him. “Do what feels right to you. You have to trust me to tell you if it hurts or not.”
He almost laughs at that. You think he’s so strong; that he has all the power. It’s so strange to him.
Daryl puts his head in the crux of your neck, closes his eyes, and tries again. He holds your waist, thumb on your ribs and the other fingers on your back as he pushes his hips into you.
You hug his chest and feel all of it. “Make yourself feel good Daryl, it’s gonna feel so good to me if you do that, I promise.” After his 4th small pump you let out a whiny moan of relief. “Oh- okay- keep going.”
Daryl moves his elbows to the bed by your head and starts pushing his hips against you, finding a rough yet steady rhythm. He loves the slapping sound your bodies are making and can’t help but speed up. He goes deeper and you start moaning. He already feels he’s losing himself. He tries to kiss you to slow down, but realizes he can’t plow into you the same way he just found out he likes. He goes back to it and he starts grunting and groaning— there is a part of him that is embarrassed by it but it just feels so good. “Are you gonna come?” He asks between sharp thrusts.
“Don’t focus on that,” you tell him. “Stay like this. Please.”
You didn’t have to tell him twice, he really can’t think of anything anymore than continuing to pump himself in you so he does. You try your best to rock up into him, but he has full control, his hands on your hips still as tight as ever as he pushes into you, making you and the bed bounce at his mercy.
You’re more than fine with it all. Even better, you couldn’t believe this meant that Daryl was about to come inside you. Something in you knew it was about to happen. It was the way he placed his elbows by your head and started cursing and ramming into you harder and even whimpered in your ear and gave you these little puppy kisses there before getting back to it. You were surprised by how noisy he was but you didn’t dare say a word other than panting and whining back into him so he’d continue, even in moments when it felt too much and too hard. He was forgetting all his doubts and that was the goal right now. You lock your legs around his hips and tell him, “You feel amazing inside me. My handsome man,” and that does it, “Oh, fuck,” he says as he releases every last drop of himself inside you.
Now, as he slows down, he looks at you, thumb on your bottom lip and chin as he tries his best to keep rolling his hips on you as he comes down from his high, but you ask, “Will you kiss me down there, Daryl? I’ve always wanted that.”
“You don’t want me to make you come?”
“I think it’ll happen if you do it like that. I just want to know what it feels like.”
He stops for a moment deciding if this means he’s failed or not, but he simply says, “Okay,” all kindly and nodding like it was your idea even though it was because this means another one of his dreams were coming true.
Instantly, he’s licking you, feeling more assured of what he could do— this was one of his most vivid fantasies so even though he doesn’t know for sure, he thinks he’s got.
“Oh, oh my god,” his tongue is bringing up wetness to your clit and sucking on it, “that’s good.” He starts licking your clit, going fast, “Daryl, that’s so good.”
He looks up at you, dazed already, “Yeah?”
“Oh, yes.” You fix his hair and he loves the feeling. Truly, he was going a little too fast actually, going up and down and this way and that way too much, but the sounds his mouth and your pussy were making together were too glorious. You let him go, you let him be proud, and either way, you’re whining and moaning because of it. He’s perfectly imperfect and he doesn’t even know it. But you’re too in love with the feeling of him to explain what that means right now so all you say is what he told you about yourself in the church, “I think you’re just perfect.”
To that, he stops again and he looks up at you, smiling. It’s one of those rare ones he seldom does, teeth and all, and your slick coating his lips all the while. His eyes are shining, and he gives you the smallest, sweetest, most innocent kiss to the most obscene place on your body— your clit.
At this point all your sounds have been short, quiet, filled with whines but to this, you moan at the sight, full and loud. It’s involuntary. It’s pornographic. It’s the hottest thing he’s ever heard in his life. His cock stirs, springing up again as he goes back to giving you your first and forever the most slobberiest head of your life.
After a while he beckons you from below, “Hey, angel,” he calls.
“Mm,” you respond lightly. You’re nearly blissed out. He’s going to make you come.
“I think those girls were right.”
Your eyes become so cute yet so sad— you just want him on you again. “What do you mean?”
“You are sweet. Sweetest thing I’ve ever had in my life.”
“Oh,” you whisper, moaning again as he goes back to licking your clit. “Oh. Fuck.”
He starts licking and kissing your puffy lips, making wet sounds with his tongue, slurping little bits of you where he can. He loves how slick and noisy your pretty pussy is. Your clit throbs and he hums into it all dark and grumbled and husky going, “Mmmmmm.”
You tell him, “God, it’s so good, Daryl.” To which he responds, referring to a different it, “And it’s mine.”
Oh, so he’s cocky now? Well, that’s new for him. You lay back at the thought, at the feeling, reveling in delight.
Here he is, finally.
490 notes · View notes
crookedteethed · 2 days ago
Text
ᥫ᭡. that time you got period blood in rafe's bed.
warnings: nothing but fluff and that time of the month shenanigans
a/n: brain wouldn't shut up tonight, so here's some soft rafe cameron for you girlies. 🤍
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You wake up to that familiar cramping sensation and immediately know.
Your eyes snap open in horror, taking in the expensive Egyptian cotton sheets beneath you – Rafe's sheets. Rafe's very white, very expensive sheets that now have a very obvious stain.
"Shit," you whisper, mortification flooding your system as you try to quietly extract yourself from his arms without waking him.
"Mmm, where are you going." His sleep-rough voice catches you mid-escape attempt. Before you can stop him, he's pulling you back against his chest, nuzzling into your neck.
"Rafe, no – I need to—" But it's too late. You feel the exact moment he realizes, his body stilling behind you.
"I'm so sorry," you start rambling, trying to wiggle free. "I know how expensive these sheets are. I'll replace them, I swear—"
"Hey." His voice has that edge to it, the one that means you're being ridiculous. "Look at me."
You shake your head, face burning. "I ruined your sheets."
"Baby girl." There's amusement in his voice now. "You really think I give a fuck about some sheets?" His lips find your temple. "You hurting?"
The gentle question beneath his usual rough exterior makes your chest tight. You nod slightly.
"Alright, here's what's happening." It's his business voice, the one that means no arguments. "You're gonna take a hot shower, steal whatever you want from my closet, and I'm grabbing you some aspirin." He pauses. "And those chocolate strawberries in the fridge? Yeah, those weren't for tomorrow's country club bullshit."
You look up at him, surprised. "You knew?"
The corner of his mouth quirks up. "Princess, you really think I don't have your cycle tracked? Who do you think keeps restocking the tampons under my sink?"
You resist the urge to roll your eyes. Of course he'd be smug about being thoughtful. Your heart then does that stupid flutter thing it always does when he shows he actually pays attention.
Later, curled up on his ridiculously expensive couch, wearing his softest hoodie, you watch him navigate your heating pad with intense focus. The chocolate strawberries are perfect, and every time a cramp hits, his hand finds your lower back like it's instinct.
"Better?" he murmurs against your hair.
"Mmm." You sink further into him. "Still sorry about the sheets though."
He snorts. "Baby, I could buy new sheets every day for the next decade and not dent my wallet." His arms tighten possessively. "Now shut up about the sheets and eat your chocolate."
You turn to look at him, this man who tracks your period in his phone but would probably murder anyone who knew about it. This version of Rafe Cameron – the one who handles period stains and midnight cramps with the same intensity he handles everything else – is just for you.
"I love you," you whisper.
"Yeah?" That signature smirk plays at his lips. "Prove it by stopping this guilt shit about my sheets."
But his kiss is gentle, and when another cramp hits, his hands are already there, steady and sure.
What Figure Eight would never believe: how the infamous Rafe Cameron keeps tampons in his bathroom and period tracking apps on his phone.
But that's okay – let them have their trust fund tyrant. This softer version is yours alone.
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487 notes · View notes
vanteguccir · 2 days ago
Text
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── ୨୧ ! PRADA FW25 | INSTAGRAM
matt sturniolo x prada!model!reader
SUMMARY: Where Y/N goes to the Prada FW25 show with the triplets and enjoy Milan with her boyfriend, Matt.
WARNING: None.
REQUESTED?: No.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
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liked by sturniolofan1, matthew.sturniolo, ynfan72 and 1,528 others
people Supermodel Y/N L/N spotted today in Milan!
view all 3,065 comments
username wait you're lying??? she's actually there???
username IS SHE GOING TO THE PRADA SHOW OMG PLS
username lmaoooooo i see you hiding in the likes matt
username it’s so cute that he's always following her activities 🥹🥹
username she's so freaking gorgeous how's that possible???
username PRADA GIRL IN MILAN?? SHES SO MOTHER RN
username nah bc how can someone look this good just walking???
username I so hope that she comes back to the runways on prada's next woman's show 😔
username I'm obsessed omg omg omg
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liked by lilamoss, matthew.sturniolo, sturniolo.triplets and 11,628 others
ynsinstagram milano, your queen is here 🇮🇹🤌🏻
tagged: matthew.sturniolo
view all 3,065 comments
username um so like you’re actually perfect
username ughhhhh milan is so beautiful 😭
→ username ikr?? I dream of going there someday
username my jaw dropped but I'm happy about it
matthew.sturniolo love the shirt
→ ynsinstagram really??? it's my face in there 🥺
⤷ matthew.sturniolo actually I was talking about MY face in there
⤷ username I LOVE THEM LMAO 😭😭
username NO WAY, IS THAT REALLY MATT????
→ username OBVIOUSLY ???? the guy follow his girl everywhere 😭
⤷ username it's so crazy to think that he's in Italy right now
username matt flew to MILAN for his girl?? boyfriend of the year award goes to him fr
username you're everything mama, I adore you etc etc, but also like... MATT IS IN MILAN?? AS IN MY CITY???
username THIS IS Y/N'S WORLD AND WE'RE JUST LIVING IN IT
christophersturniolo 🏰🤌🏻🥧😱
→ ynsinstagram I agree, king 🙌🏻
username are nick and chris also there?
→ username I don't think they're (?)
→ username probably... this week is gonna happen the prada FW25 show, maybe she's in Milan to go there? her being the face of prada and all
⤷ username this actually makes super sense
username where Y/N is, fashion is following 🙌🏻
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liked by sturniolo.triplets, ynsinstagram, prada and 8,528 others
matthew.sturniolo this is what happens when you date a supermodel, they make you look cool by association
tagged: ynsinstagram
view all 3,925 comments
username damn god really out here choosing favorites
username he loves her your honour
username matt's milan era is just him third-wheeling Y/N and the camera
→ username FRRR!!! that girl looks amazing in every picture 😭😭
christophersturniolo bro really said I'm a prada boy now
→ ynsinstagram and he's slaying it 💅🏻
username sir, how does it feel to be living half of the world's dream?
→ matthew.sturniolo unreal
username nah bc prada matt is actually gonna break the internet rn
ynsinstagram you're cooler 🫵🏻🤍
→ matthew.sturniolo impossible
username this is the most unexpected collab but I'm OBSESSED
username HE LOOKS SO GOOD IN PRADA LIKE HELLO????
nicolassturniolo how do you pull a supermodel and still look like you can't spell milan?
→ matthew.sturniolo I think you mixed the triplet
⤷ christophersturniolo what's that supposed to mean???
username I'm SO sure that Y/N influenced matt 100% to buy prada stuff
username and now everyone say THANK YOU Y/N 🙏🏻
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liked by sturniolo.triplets, matthew.sturniolo, ynsinstagram and 6,279 others
gettyimages MILAN, ITALY - 19TH JANUARY. The Sturniolo's arrive at the Prada fashion show during Milan Menswear Fall/Winter 2025.
tagged: sturniolo.triplets
view all 3,624 comments
username WHAT THE FUCK
username what do you mean they're aLL IN THAT PRADA SHOW???? am I dreaming?
username omg omg omg omg shut up right now this is EVERYTHING
username PRADA KINGS 🙏🏻🙏🏻
→ username Y/N being their prada queen 🙏🏻
username I'm so so proud of them 😭
username fuck matt is looking amazing in all black 🫦🫦
username WHERE’S Y/N??????
→ matthew.sturniolo that's a good question
⤷ username LMAO 😭 noticed by matt being ironic
username can't wait to see them in the front row
username weren't they in boston just yesterday? 😭😭 things happen so fast omg
username they're the moment guys ✋🏻✋🏻
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liked by matthew.sturniolo, bellahadid, kendalljenner and 17,279 others
ynsinstagram MILANO IS PRADA @/prada
tagged: prada
view all 8,624 comments
username fashion princess is living the dream so happy for her 😭🙏🏻
username mommy- sorry... mommy- sorry... MOTHER
kendalljenner you are GLOWING 😍
→ ynsinstagram love you, ken 🤍
username THE FACE OF PRADA ARRIVES, EVERYONE ELSE CAN GO HOME
prada prettiest
→ ynsinstagram 🖤
username she is literally making the streets of milan her runway rn
username stop, you're making me wish that she comes back to the runways 😭😭
matthew.sturniolo nah bc how does someone look THIS good just stepping out of a car?? unreal
nicolassturniolo stop drooling
username prada is lucky to even exist while Y/N is wearing it tbh
bellahadid it's giving movie from the 50s
→ ynsinstagram STOP I LOVE THIS
username icon of the century
username here, take my whole house if you want
username 💳💳💳
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liked by ynsinstagram, matthew.sturniolo and 3,528 others
prada Y/N L/N and the Sturniolo Triplets attend the Prada FW25 Menswear Show in Milan, at the Fondazione Prada's Deposito.
tagged: ynsinstagram, sturniolo.triplets
view all 665 comments
username nick, chris, and matt are living every fan's dream rn just casually at PRADA with Y/N
→ username idk who I want to be tbh 😫
username ughh they look so powerful wtf
username the fact that prada is literally being carried by THEM rn 😫😫
username Y/N's outfit is literally what dreams are made of
→ username ikr??? so angel coded
username can we talk about how matt's whole outfit is lowkey giving runway vibes?? boyfriend is LEVELING UP
→ username and for that we say THANK YOU Y/N 🙌🏻
username Y/N's accessories alone probably cost more than my whole apartment but like... worth it 😃
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liked by rosiehw, matthew.sturniolo, haileybieber and 14,528 others
ynsinstagram cause i love to love, to love, to love you 🤍
tagged: matthew.sturniolo
view all 7,365 comments
matthew.sturniolo that guy's pretty handsome
→ ynsinstagram very :) and an amazing photographer too
⤷ matthew.sturniolo with a muse like you, I have no doubts
⤷ username PARENTS ARE FLIRTING ‼️
username MY ROMAN EMPIRE
username how can you both be so damn hot?!
username they're the IT couple
username the way she's casually flexing that matt does her cartier for her like we're not all crying rn 😭
username he's so boyfriend material fuck 😭
nicolassturniolo cool pics and all, but where's my invite to the pasta tho?
→ ynsinstagram as if you didn't obligated us to bring some for you
⤷ username LMAO 😭😭 this is so nick coded
username EVERYONE PAUSE
username I want what these bitches have ;(
username she's truly one of the most beautiful women i've ever seen 😭
username omg he was taking pics of her??
→ ynsinstagram yes 😁
→ matthew.sturniolo always!
⤷ username WTF- HIIIII
⤷ username YOU'RE BOTH SO CUTE STOP
username why am I crying in the club rn
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liked by ynsinstagram, nathandoe8, tarayummyy and 12,588 others
matthew.sturniolo pizza in italy just hits different
tagged: ynsinstagram
view all 3,745 comments
username are yall breathing ok??
→ username no, actually going to the hospital rn
username bro went from youtube videos in sweatshirts to prada boy real quick
→ username AND I'M SO HERE FOR ITTTT
→ username don't you dare insult his sweatshirts 😔😔
nicolassturniolo matt driving in italy? 😱😱😱
→ matthew.sturniolo I can actually drive everywhere when I have a license, yk?
⤷ username clocked out 😭
username Y/N give me a chance pls pls pls
username fourth pic is peak boyfriendism 😭
username sooooooo dreamy omg I need this
username luckiest boy on the planet
→ ynsinstagram luckiest girl*
⤷ matthew.sturniolo nah, I win on that note, no one is luckier than me
⤷ username whipped
ynsinstagram 🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕
→ matthew.sturniolo 🍕🍕🍕🍕
⤷ username best conversation ever
username I NEED IT I NEED IT
username matt's prada era AND his soft boyfriend era at the same time???
→ username and we all say THANK YOU Y/N 🙌🏻🙌🏻
tarayummyy every time you post her, my heart grows three sizes ;((( stop being so perfect
→ username we love a supportive bestie 😔
ynsinstagram italy has my heart and so do you, mio amato 🤍
→ matthew.sturniolo I promise I'm keeping it safe here 🖤
⤷ username I'm gonna throw up- THIS IS SO CUTE SHUT THE FUCK UP
username Y/N taking a picture of matt taking a picture of her 🙏🏻🙏🏻
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smolbeanie1221 · 3 days ago
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Age dreamer here! Also possibly probably regressor too but I never exactly know what age I feel like, soooo confusion
Now ima vent about that a bit. I grew up in an unconventional way, my dad was sick my entire childhood and he was the center of my world my everything. Anyways I had to grow up fast in some ways, like logically I guess, but in other ways, I stayed as young as I could. I played with toys and stuffed animals until 6-7th grade, so 11-12 years old. A lot longer than most of my peers. Then middle school and high school happened, and coming up with story ideas replaced my pretend games with stuffed animals. Then when Covid happened my freshman year of college, my mental health crashed super hard and I was dissociating on and off for a long freaking time. During that time, I discovered the Lion King fandom and I immediately hyperfixated on that. I started getting sucked into other fandoms too, but Lion King is always my default. The fandoms and universes I hyperfixate on are pretty much always the same books and movies and shows I loved from ages 8-18ish. Covid happened when I was 18, and then I started dissociating for so long that I feel as though I didn’t really “age” at all during the time I was dissociating. I escaped back into fantasy worlds, not with stuffed animals and toys this time, but with characters from Lion King and Spirit Stallion of the Cimarron and Twilight and Divergent and Tinker Bell and Supernatural and Percy Jackson and the Buddies puppies movies and so many others. When I was turning 20, it felt so unreal to me, and it still does feel so unreal to me that I’m 23 now, but turning 20 felt so wrong because, what do you mean I was no longer a teenager?? I didn’t necessarily want to relive my teenage years, but I couldn’t say I was technically a teenager anymore?? Turning 20 years old to me meant full fledged adult, and I hated that thought. And I still feel so weird when I think about the fact that I’m 23 years old now. I don’t feel like an adult at all, I mean I function and live well enough in the adult world, but I don’t feel like I’m actually an adult. And… shit as I’m typing this I’m realizing the term I recently started paying more attention to, permaregressor… huh I think that actually does describe me a lot more than I initially thought. So… I think it might be accurate to say that I’m permaregressed to 15–18ish, and I age dream to go into a younger headspace?? Huh that’s… actually sounding pretty freaking accurate. I’m still not sure but… I think it makes sense??
Please interact with this post if you're a trans or gender non-conforming age regressor/age dreamer so that we can all see we're valid members of our community who aren't alone!
🩵🩷🤍🩵🩷 💛🤍💜🖤 💜🤍💚
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catchastarorten · 2 days ago
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Heyyyy!!! I just wanted to day i love Ur writing and if you dont wanna do this then you can just ignore! Could you possibly write headcanons of kang dae ho with a reader who has avoidant attachment? Because i recently broke up with a guy who i rlly wanted to be in a relationship because of my avoidant attachment and now he has a new girlfriend and i just feel like shit
Hey lovely, I’m sorry to hear what you’re going through right now, and I hope you’re feeling better. Take care of yourself, you deserve so, so much <33
I don’t usually do headcanons, but here’s one for you, I hope you like it — sending lots of love <3
—How he loves you
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Pairing: Kang Dae-ho x reader
Content: reader has avoidant attachment, comfort, soft, understanding, Dae-ho is a sweetheart, no games au
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• Dae-ho never rushes you. He understands that trust isn’t something you give easily, and that’s okay. He’s in no hurry. He doesn't mind waiting for you to open up. He's like a calm, unbothered cat sitting on your porch—he knows the door will crack a little bit if he waits long enough.
• When you pull away after a vulnerable moment, he doesn’t get upset or demand answers. Instead, he gives you the space you need, quietly waiting until you’re ready to let him back in.
• He's unshakable. Seriously. He never takes it personally when you hesitate or retreat. Instead, he sees it as part of who you are—and he loves all of you, even the parts you can’t share or is still learning to share.
• He has a way of showing he cares without making it feel overwhelming. A simple message like how he’s thinking of you is his way of reminding you that he’s there, without pressuring you to respond. He always waits until you're ready to find him.
• Instead of big, romantic gestures, he's all about the small things—a peaceful walk, sitting on the couch in comfortable silence, or sharing a meal where neither of you feels the need to fill the quiet. He's not here to stress you out.
• He admires your independence. He doesn’t see your need for space as a problem to solve—it’s something he respects and works with, knowing that love doesn’t mean smothering you.
• When you finally open up to him, he listens with his whole heart. He doesn’t try to "fix" anything or tell you what you should do. He just listens, making you feel heard.
• He shares pieces of his own struggles—not to compare but to let you know he understands what it’s like to carry heavy things alone. Like that time he pretended to be confident in the Marines but secretly sucked at running drills. He wants his own experiences to make you feel less alone, like you’ve found someone who really gets it.
• He never sees your distance as rejection. He knows it’s your way of protecting yourself, and instead of reacting negatively, he just stays steady, showing you he’s not going anywhere.
• Dae-ho doesn’t overwhelm you with affection. Instead, he shows his love in small, tender ways. Maybe it’s brushing his hand against yours, or draping his jacket over your shoulders when he notices you’re cold.
• He makes you laugh when you least expect it—turning heavy moments into something lighter without diminishing their importance. His sense of humor has a way of melting your walls without you even realizing it.
• When you shut down or pull away, he doesn’t press you to talk. Instead, he gently says, “Take your time. I’m here when you’re ready,” and you know he means it.
• He notices the small moments when you start to trust him—like when you lean your head against his shoulder or let him hold your hand for a second longer. He never makes a big deal out of it, but the soft smile on his face tells you how much it means to him.
• Every step you take, no matter how small, is something he treasures. If you share even a tiny piece of yourself, he makes sure you know how much he values it.
• He doesn’t expect you to change who you are. He loves you exactly as you are—doesn’t matter the hesitations, fears, and all. You are you, and he loves you for being yourself.
• Dae-ho isn’t the type to give up when things get hard. Your struggles with trust don’t scare him away, they make him want to be there for you even more.
• His love is steady and calming, like a warm cup of tea you didn't ask for but secretly needed. With him, love doesn’t feel like pressure or fear—it feels safe, soft, and freeing.
• Over time, you may realize you don’t have to carry everything on your own anymore. When you finally lean on him, you see that he’s always there to hold you, without hesitation or doubt.
• With Dae-ho, love isn’t something you have to fight for or fear. It’s patient, gentle, and warm—like being wrapped in a soft blanket after a long day.
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echo-riot · 2 days ago
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Ambessa with a reader who always refuses to take money from Ambessa or hates (but also appreciates) when she buys/gives her gifts?
Thank you. 🤍
✞⛧ Ambessa Medarda with partner Who Refuses Gifts or Money ✞⛧
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• Ambessa quickly notices your resistance to accepting gifts or financial support, but at first, she brushes it off as modesty. It doesn’t take long for her to realize how deeply you dislike the idea.
• She finds your independence admirable—refreshing, even. Ambessa is surrounded by people who would happily accept her wealth without a second thought, so your stance on the matter intrigues her.
• “I don’t need your money,” you’d say firmly, arms crossed. Ambessa would chuckle, leaning back in her chair. “And I don’t need your permission to take care of you.”
• Despite your protests, she enjoys surprising you with thoughtful gestures. She trades lavish gifts for subtle ones—flowers picked from the garden, your favorite treat delivered unexpectedly, or handwritten notes slipped into your belongings.
• Ambessa starts tailoring her generosity to align with your values. Instead of extravagant jewelry or luxury items, she offers practical help—fixing something that’s broken or providing resources that support your goals.
• The arguments over her spending on you are a mix of frustration and affection. “Ambessa, I told you to stop!” you’d exclaim. “And I told you I won’t,” she’d respond, her tone calm but unyielding.
• You secretly appreciate the care and effort she puts into her gestures, even if they make you uncomfortable. It’s hard to stay mad when her gifts always seem to come with so much thought behind them.
• Ambessa loves watching you reluctantly accept something she’s given you, especially when she can see how much you genuinely love it. The way your lips twitch into a small, begrudging smile is a victory she cherishes.
• When she takes you to high-profile events, Ambessa always ensures you’re comfortable. She might insist on dressing you in something extravagant, but she’s quick to remind you, “You deserve to shine just as brightly as anyone else here.”
• To compromise, you occasionally let her spoil you in ways that feel more personal, like cooking you a meal or spending a quiet evening together. She never complains, as long as she can show her love in some way.
• Ambessa admires your determination to stand on your own. It’s one of the many reasons she fell for you. Still, she wishes you’d let her shoulder some of your burdens now and then.
• She’s incredibly patient when it comes to easing your discomfort about gifts. “One day,” she’ll tease, “you’ll realize there’s no shame in being cared for.”
• Ambessa takes note of your interests and passions, finding ways to support them without crossing your boundaries. If you’re an artist, she might quietly arrange for high-quality supplies to find their way into your life. If you’re studying something, she’ll ensure you have access to the best resources.
• On special occasions, like your birthday or an anniversary, she pulls out all the stops despite your protests. “Just let me have this one,” she’ll say with a sly grin, knowing full well you can’t argue when she’s already set everything in motion.
• The way you try to downplay her wealth or influence amuses her endlessly. She loves that you see her as just Ambessa, not the legendary warrior or the untouchable powerhouse everyone else sees.
• If anyone dares to question or criticize your refusal to take advantage of her wealth, Ambessa is quick to shut them down. “It’s none of your business,” she’d say coldly, her protective nature flaring.
• You’ve learned to accept that Ambessa shows her love through actions, even if it’s not always in the way you’d prefer.
• Sometimes, when you’re in a particularly vulnerable moment, you let her spoil you without resistance. Whether it’s allowing her to hold you close or accepting a small token of her affection, those moments mean the world to her.
• Ambessa never takes your independence as a rejection of her love. If anything, it makes her respect you even more. She knows that when you do accept her care, it’s because you truly trust her.
• At the end of the day, Ambessa’s greatest gift to you is her unwavering support and love. Whether it’s through grand gestures or quiet moments, she’s always there, reminding you that she cherishes you for exactly who you are.
•|||——————————————————————|||•
A Drabble based on this idea
Ambessa Medarda had built her life around power. A woman of her stature and reputation was accustomed to the finer things—luxury, control, and influence—and she wielded them with ease. Giving came naturally to her. She could shift mountains if she wanted, and handing her beloved a small token of affection felt like the least she could do.
But you? You made it insufferably difficult.
She sat in her sunlit study, a newly commissioned necklace dangling from her fingers, the diamonds catching the light. It was elegant yet understated, perfect for you. Or at least, she thought so.
The memory of your last argument still lingered in her mind.
“Ambessa, I told you,” you had said, arms crossed and a stubborn pout on your face. “You don’t have to keep buying me things. I don���t want your money.”
“And I told you,” she had countered with a calmness that only years of diplomacy could maintain, “it’s not about needing to. I want to. You deserve to be spoiled.”
“I don’t need to be spoiled!” Your voice had raised, though your frustration wasn’t with her, not really. “I don’t want people thinking I’m with you for—”
She’d cut you off with a sharp look, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Don’t finish that sentence.”
Now, sitting in her study, Ambessa couldn’t help but chuckle. You were perhaps the first person in years who had refused to let her generosity flow unchallenged. It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate her gifts—she could tell by the soft smiles you tried to hide when she surprised you with something thoughtful—but there was a fire in you that refused to let her money define your relationship.
It was admirable, frustrating, and entirely too endearing for her own good.
That evening, Ambessa found you in the garden. The sun was setting, painting the horizon in hues of amber and crimson. You were kneeling by the flowerbeds, tending to the blooms you’d insisted on planting yourself, despite her offers to hire a gardener. Dirt streaked your hands, and a content smile curved your lips.
“Working hard, I see,” Ambessa said as she approached, her voice carrying the same smooth confidence that had drawn you to her in the first place.
You glanced up, your expression softening when you saw her. “Someone has to.”
She smirked, kneeling beside you. “Careful, or I might take that as an insult to my work ethic.”
Your laugh was light, and it sent a flicker of warmth through her chest. “You? Not working hard? I’d believe the sun rising in the west before that.”
Ambessa reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. Her touch lingered, and she took a moment to admire the way the golden light kissed your skin.
“You’re beautiful,” she murmured.
You blushed, your hands pausing in the soil. “You’re not bribing me into accepting another gift with compliments, if that’s what you’re trying.”
She laughed, a deep, rich sound that you couldn’t help but love. “Is it so hard for you to let me spoil you?”
“Ambessa,” you said softly, shifting to face her. “I love you, but… I don’t want our relationship to feel transactional. I want to earn the things I have. I want to contribute.”
Her expression softened, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the back of your hand. “Do you think so little of me? That I would ever see you as someone who takes without giving back?”
“No, of course not.” You sighed, frustrated with yourself. “But people talk, Ambessa. They’ll see us and assume—”
“Let them assume,” she interrupted, her tone firm. “Their opinions are worth less than the soil beneath your nails.”
Her gaze was steady, unwavering, and you felt your resolve weaken under the weight of it. Ambessa always had a way of cutting through your insecurities, laying them bare so she could banish them with her unwavering confidence in you.
“I just don’t want to lose myself,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to forget who I am.”
Ambessa cupped your face, her thumb brushing over your cheek. “And I would never let that happen. You are the most remarkable person I’ve ever known, not because of what you have, but because of who you are.”
Your eyes stung, and you blinked rapidly. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”
She smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “Years of practice.”
Later, as the two of you sat by the fire, she brought out the necklace she’d been holding earlier.
“Ambessa…”
“Before you say anything,” she began, holding it up so the firelight danced along the diamonds, “this isn’t just a gift. It’s a symbol. Of us.”
You frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”
She gestured for you to turn around, and you reluctantly obliged. Her hands were steady as she fastened the necklace around your neck, the cool metal resting against your skin.
“This,” she said, her voice low and intimate, “is to remind you that you are cherished. Not for what you do or what you give, but simply because you’re you. And if anyone dares to question that, they’ll have me to answer to.”
You touched the pendant lightly, your heart swelling despite your initial resistance. “Ambessa, I don’t know what to say…”
“You don’t have to say anything,” she replied, turning you back around to face her. “Just promise me you’ll wear it when you need a reminder of how much you’re loved.”
You nodded, unable to fight the smile that tugged at your lips. “Fine. But no more gifts for at least a month, okay?”
Ambessa chuckled, pulling you into her arms. “I’ll do my best. No promises.”
The next morning, you found a handwritten note on your bedside table, accompanied by a single red rose.
My dearest,
You are the one thing in my life that no amount of wealth or power could ever replace. I may not always express it in ways you approve of, but my love for you is unshakable. Thank you for being my balance, my light, and my heart.
Yours, always,
Ambessa
You sighed, a mix of exasperation and affection filling you. She would always push your boundaries, but you couldn’t deny the love and care behind her every action.
��|||——————————————————————|||•
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stcrgazings · 2 days ago
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so american 𓇼 ⋆.˚ op81
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note… im sorry i know that this song is about all those london boys but my man oscar deserves some appreciation, and i think it turned out really fun, i wrote this in like a day so it’s not proofread, but i hope all my Oscar girlies enjoy. <3
warnings… mentions of alcohol if you like squint very very hard, and implications of smut.
summary… you’re all about those chick-fil-a and parties in the usa, but also all about a driver named oscar piastri who shows you that maybe australian food is better than all the taco bells in the world, you’re so very american but also so very in love.
word count… 1.5k (shortie but goodie)
You’re standing in the middle of a stage in some shady karaoke somewhere in Japan, he’s sitting right in front of you, smiling, completely mesmerized like he always seems to be when it comes to you.
“Driving on the right side road…”
“Please be careful, please.” He begs as he covers one eye, you’re obviously smiling completely amused by his freak out behavior as you pull out to the road.
You’re a new team ambassador, and have been for a few months now, the team completely thrilled to have one of the most famous singers in the world and the newest it girl of the generation wanting to spent so much time at their paddock and shooting content for them.
But of course you’ll do it if it means you get to be with Oscar.
“Will you calm down? I’ve driven before you know.” You joke, while he paces himself, you’re in some deserted roads near the McLaren headquarters, and he looks completely miserable.
“Yeah I know, but I can’t help but freak out when you’re driving on the wrong side of the road in my two hundred and forty thousand euros car.” He says, his hand grabbing the steering wheel slightly, pulling the car in to the right side of the road.
“Oh shoot, I forgot, it’s not my fault everything here is backwards Osc.” He laughs, rolling his eyes, while you bite your lip, completely ashamed and blushed too.
“Jesus, you’re so American.”
“Chick-fil-A is better than any Australian restaurant.” You say matter of factly, Oscar staring at you like you just murdered his entire family.
“No it’s not, take it bac-“
“-Is that Oscar’s sweater?” Lando interrupts him as he stares at you, more specifically at the sweater you’re wearing, one that he is certain he has seen Oscar wear at least a hundred times.
You blush as you nod. “Yeah, Osc let me borrow it back at the airport.” You explain, bitting your tongue as you beg to god that Lando believes the blatant lie you just told.
Oscar, just smiles innocently, clearly entertained by the situation, like you didn’t have to borrow the sweater in the first place because last night he gifted you hickey in your collar bone the size of Europe.
“Doesn’t she look pretty?” He asks, Lando still pretty much confused and lost of words, while you cover your blushed face with your hands.
“I’m not really understandi-“
“You have the coldest hands, it’s not even funny” you joke, while you feel his smirk right against your neck, making you giggle softly.
You’re in a cramp up supplies closet in the McLaren garage, his hands sneaking under your shirt, the coldness of them making you shiver and laugh as they unbutton your Bra.
“Well, you certainly seemed to love them last night, and this morning too.” He teased, removing your shirt completely as you pushed him slightly, pulling him back almost immediately to kiss him.
“I hate you” you managed to say in between kisses, your mind completely reduced to pout as your head is thrown back while he nips your jaw and then your neck and then-
"-Where the hell is Oscar?! Practice starts in ten minutes” the voice of one of the McLaren engineers interrupts him, your eyes shoot open, pushing him away almost immediately, because you’re not about to be caught half naked and making out by one of his engineers.
“Aaaand we’re done here” you declare. Oscar groans in frustration, his head placed in your naked chest. “Kill me now”
You pressed your lips together, knowing you won’t be able to continue your little escapade, your hands leaving soft pets all over his hair.
“You need to go babe.” You whisper, lips against his head, leaving one soft kiss there, as he hands you your shirt and bra from the concrete floor.
“I hate it here” he complains, as you put your clothes back on and he guards the door so that no one walks in to watch you naked.
“Kiss” you say, puckering your lips at him.
He smirks. “No” he jokes with a killer smile on his face but he’s already leaning in to kiss you.
“You were supposed to take that exit!” He exclaims, pointing at the exit that you just passed.
“You told me in 1.2 miles! That wasn’t 1.2 miles!” You exclaims, clearly stressed as you tries to switch lanes while Oscar covers his face with his hands, laughing. “I said kilometers baby, not miles”
“You know that I don’t do kilometers!” You protest clearly frustrated because you hate driving in highways, while he smiles at you sweetly, his feet on the dashboard and his head pressed against his hands behind his neck.
You turn around to see him, just for a second, he’s smiling brightly, like he always is, UK’s sun shining into his face, making him even more dreamy than he already is. Oscar is someone you sometimes feel like he isn’t even real, like you just made him up, an old poem you’d wish you’d wrote.
“It’s okay baby, I’ll just be late to the meeting.” He smiles, as you take the next exit, so he can drive and you can admire him a little longer.
“I might just be in love guys” you tell you’re friends, who look at you completely astonished and completely lost of words, at you and your heart eyes face.
“I mean he’s cute, but in love? Girl, is he that good? Your best friend asks, and you nod, an amusement expression setting in her face.
“I’ve never seen you like this” your other friend says, and it’s true, because no one’s ever make you feel like Oscar does.
“I mean, he’s just so charming, and pretty, and nice and a gentleman in all senses of the word, he laughs at all my jokes, buys me flowers when there’s no special occasion and even sends deliveries to my apartment with just the food I like. I mean who could I not be in love?” You try to explain yourself, as they all mock you.
“Oh yes Oscar! I’ll go to fucking Azerbaijan with you!” One of them says in a high pitched voice, the whole table laughing, making you throw your French Fries at them.
Because yes, you did ditch them for a race weekend in Baku with him, because how could you not.
“Well guys, when you guys have a handsome f1 pilot of a boyfriend you’ll understand why I’ll go anywhere he goes.” You tell them, completely defeated against their teasing. “I’m sorry if I’m being a little too much just a little too soon”
You apologize, but you’re 100% not sorry.
“About that, because I too want an f1 pilot of a boyfriend. Can you do me solid with the Charles Leclerc guy? Because man he can get it”
“Oh my god!”
“I’m telling you guys! They are totally sleeping together.” Lando tells Carlos and Charles, as the three of them share lunch, the Ferrari pair not believing a word of what he’s saying.
“Man, there’s no way Oscar scored the hottest chick in the planet” Carlos says, taking a bite of his pastrami sandwich, Lando completely frustrated at the fact that absolutely no one believes him and his theory that you and Oscar are sleeping together.
“Yeah dude, forget it, even I wanna sleep with her.” Charles adds, and Lando groans in frustration pulling his hair out and also offended for Oscar.
“You’re telling me you don’t think my boy has game?” He accused the pair, the both of them nodding like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“To pull that?” Charles points with his head one of your advertisement with McLaren. “Definitely not.”
He’s just won in Hungary, and it makes you feel something that you’ve never even felt before as he blows a kiss at you from the podium, your stomach fluttering like a 16-year-old kid.
You feel your heart grow with pride and love, smiling at him from the pit, champagne splashing you everywhere.
You made your relationship public just a few hours ago, a very hard launch as he posted a picture of you eating breakfast in his hotel room.
Lando wins five hundred bucks, Carlos, Charles, Lewis and two McLaren engineers lost a hundred each.
You’re ecstatic, even with the media and the gossips talking about a possible pr relationship you’re pretty much happier than ever.
And you don’t know if what you now have is forever, but something in your gut tells you it is, because he’s the most real thing you’ve ever found, not even fair or close to what your past relationships had been.
That night, you celebrated between drunken kisses and twisted sheets, and for now it’s more that enough.
But you do promise yourself that one your so american ass, will marry him.
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phoenixrisingastro · 3 days ago
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The Dark Side of the Moon 🌑
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Every Moon sign has a shadow. It’s the part of yourself you wish wasn’t there, but it always comes out when emotions get the better of you. Let’s explore the toxic trait each Moon sign struggles with but rarely wants to admit.
Aries Moon
You’re the emotional firecracker of the zodiac. When something sets you off, everyone within a 10-mile radius will feel it. Aries Moons can’t help but react in the moment—they’ll yell, slam doors, and walk out before calming down five minutes later. But here’s the problem: while you’re quick to move on, others aren’t. People can feel blindsided by your emotional outbursts, and sometimes, they never quite recover. You mean well, but your “act now, think later” tendencies can leave behind emotional wreckage you didn’t intend to cause.
Taurus Moon
Comfort is everything to you—sometimes to your detriment. You’ll cling to toxic relationships, bad habits, or outdated routines just because they feel familiar. Taurus Moons fear instability, so you stay in situations that no longer serve you, convincing yourself it’s “better than nothing.” But deep down, you know you’re playing it safe. This stubborn loyalty might seem admirable on the surface, but it often holds you back from real growth. Your challenge? Learning to let go when something (or someone) stops nourishing your soul.
Gemini Moon
You process emotions at lightning speed—too fast, sometimes. Gemini Moons are masters of compartmentalization, stuffing feelings into neatly labeled boxes and pretending they don’t exist. You distract yourself with endless conversations, new hobbies, or scrolling through memes, but the truth is, those unprocessed emotions are still there, waiting to ambush you. People think you’re carefree, but you often feel emotionally scattered, unsure of what’s real and what’s just noise. Your gift is your adaptability, but your challenge is learning to sit with your feelings instead of running from them.
Cancer Moon
You’re the emotional nurturer of the zodiac, but your depth comes with claws. When you feel betrayed, your go-to move is the silent treatment or passive-aggressive remarks that cut deep. Cancer Moons don’t forget hurt easily—you replay it, nurse it, and sometimes use it as armor to protect yourself from future pain. But this emotional self-defense can isolate you, leaving others feeling like they can’t reach you. Your strength is your emotional intuition, but your shadow lies in learning to forgive, both yourself and others.
Leo Moon
You thrive on love and recognition—it’s what fuels your soul. But when that attention isn’t there, the shadow side of your pride emerges. Leo Moons can get defensive, dramatic, or overly self-focused when they feel ignored or underappreciated. You’ll never admit how deeply rejection stings, so you cover it up with bravado or an “I don’t care” act that fools no one. Beneath the surface, you just want to feel valued. Your challenge is finding that validation within yourself instead of always seeking it from others.
Virgo Moon
Your inner critic is relentless. Virgo Moons analyze every interaction, dissecting what went wrong and how you could’ve been “better.” This self-imposed pressure creates an emotional loop where nothing feels good enough—not your relationships, your work, or even yourself. People think you’re put together because you rarely show your vulnerability, but inside, you’re constantly questioning your worth. Your superpower is your ability to problem-solve, but your shadow lies in learning to embrace imperfection—both in yourself and others.
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Libra Moon
You’ll do anything to keep the peace—even if it means lying to yourself. Libra Moons crave harmony, and you’ll bend over backward to avoid conflict, often ignoring your own needs in the process. But this constant people-pleasing builds resentment, and when you finally reach your limit, you explode in a way no one expects. It’s hard for you to admit when you’re angry because you hate feeling “selfish,” but putting yourself first isn’t selfish—it’s necessary. Your journey is about learning to balance your own needs with others’.
Scorpio Moon
Your emotions run as deep as the ocean, and you feel everything with an intensity most people can’t handle. Scorpio Moons are masters of emotional control, but when that control slips? Chaos ensues. Jealousy, suspicion, and revenge are your go-to defenses when you feel threatened. You hold people to impossibly high standards of loyalty, but sometimes, your walls are the very thing blocking intimacy. Your strength is your resilience, but your shadow is learning to trust—both yourself and the people who truly care for you.
Sagittarius Moon
Freedom is your drug, and anything that feels like emotional “weight” makes you bolt. Sagittarius Moons have a hard time sticking around when things get too heavy or complicated—they’d rather crack a joke and change the subject than deal with the hard stuff. But deep down, this avoidance keeps you from truly connecting with others. People admire your optimism, but sometimes it feels like you’re emotionally unavailable. Your challenge is learning that freedom doesn’t mean running—it’s about facing life head-on and growing from it.
Capricorn Moon
Your emotional walls are skyscraper high. Capricorn Moons hate feeling vulnerable, so you bury your emotions under work, responsibilities, and a “nothing can break me” attitude. People see you as strong, but they don’t realize how heavy it is to carry the world on your shoulders. You fear being judged for showing weakness, but in doing so, you miss out on the support and love you desperately crave. Your strength is your resilience, but your shadow lies in letting people in.
Aquarius Moon
You process emotions intellectually rather than emotionally, which makes you seem detached. Aquarius Moons care deeply about humanity as a whole but often struggle to connect on a personal level. People might feel like you’re “there but not there,” leaving them confused about where they stand with you. Your challenge is learning that vulnerability isn’t weakness—it’s the bridge to real connection.
Pisces Moon
You feel everything—your emotions, other people’s emotions, the entire world’s emotions. Pisces Moons are incredibly compassionate but often lack boundaries, letting others drain their energy. When life gets overwhelming, your first instinct is to escape, whether through daydreams, distractions, or avoidance. Your gift is your empathy, but your shadow is learning to protect your energy without shutting yourself off from the world.
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What’s your Moon sign, and does this hit home? Drop your thoughts below.
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keikikait · 2 days ago
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ʙᴀʙʏ ʙʟᴜᴇ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)
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pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20s)
word count: 4.8k
summary: you're just one of his many conquests, so why does he need you?
warnings: ANGST, friends with benefits, mild yearning/pining, rafe cannot handle his emotions, ward mention, slight jealous!reader, not proofread
a note: idk if i ate. i'm sorry that it's a little short. :( also, my stalker!rafe fic needs SERIOUS work, so i decided to upload this instead. i am very unhappy with it.
please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧
Sometimes you think you aren’t meant to be loved. 
It’s almost comical, the way you just sit there and take it. The way you let him walk all over you, taking bites out of you just to toss you aside for later. He cut off slices of you when he needed, never taking the full thing. Always little samples, just to keep you hooked. He would chew you up and spit you out, and you would always come crawling back.
You watch as Rafe dresses himself, eyes landing on his ass as he pulls up his boxers. He always dresses so quickly, not even handing you a towel as he paces around your room, gathering his things. At first, you thought he just didn’t like your apartment. You were a Pogue, after all, even though you were lucky enough to move to a nicer area of The Cut. You spent a lot of time redecorating, trying to make it a little bit nicer. A little bit cleaner. Anything to get him to stay.
Your apartment was small. Cozy. Quaint. 
It reeks of you. And that’s why Rafe won’t stay.
Rafe turns around, catching your eye. He can’t help the small smile that stretches across his lips as he pulls his jeans on. “Admiring the view?”
“For as long as I can.” You say.
Your response surprises him, and his eyes widen just slightly. He stares for a moment, unsure of how to respond. He clears his throat, breaking eye contact. “You’re too sweet for your own good.” He mutters, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling his socks on.
“I wish you would stay.” You mumble, aching to reach out and touch him. But you don’t.
“I know you do,” Rafe sighs, tying his shoes on. “But I can’t, sweetheart. You know that.”
“I do.” Your voice is soft.
“So why do you keep asking me to stay?” It comes out angrier than he intended. But maybe you needed that.
“I…” You swallow hard. “I don’t know.”
“My answers always no. Why do you keep askin’?” Rafe stands, grabbing his wallet and keys off of the bedside table. “Shit’s starting to piss me off.”
“I’m sorry.” You say, sitting up, holding the duvet to your chest. You feel like you’re always telling him that. 
“Quit being sorry. Just stop fucking asking it,” He turns to face you. “Jesus. It’s not that hard.”
You don’t know what to say. You nod, looking down.
Rafe sighs, running a hand through his hair. He can’t deny, he loves when you look like that. Sad. Vulnerable. It drives him wild. His gaze lands on your neck, bruised and marked by his teeth. Possession looks good on you, He often thinks. 
But that was it. He could only take so much of your submission. He couldn’t take you asking him to stay, too.
“I won’t ask again.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, still avoiding his gaze.
His jaw tightens and he stares at you. He wants to take you and claim you. To show you were his, and only his. But he didn’t want to keep you. Why would he? “Good.” Rafe walks around the bed and stands in front of you. He reaches out, grabbing your chin and forcing it up. “And look at me when I’m talking to you.”
You nod, looking up at him, mascara still smeared on your under eyes. 
Rafe studies your face. God, you always looked so beautiful like this. Broken and upset. The sight had him wanting to take and claim you all over again. But the look of submission in your eyes makes him want to push you even more. “You look pretty like this.” He murmurs, pushing your neck to the side and looking at the hickeys on your neck. “It suits you.”
“Thank you.” You say, although you don’t like it. You didn’t like this version of you, the pathetic girl who would do anything and everything for one iota of his attention; but it got him into your arms, so that’s really all that matters.
“I wonder why that is? Why you look so pretty when you’re crying?” His fingers lightly trace over your collarbone, sending a shiver down your spine. He knows that it doesn’t matter whether you like it or not. You were addicted to him, craving his attention more than you craved anything else. You’d take whatever he gave you. That was the only thing Rafe loved about you.
“Because my lips get all pouty, and my eyes get all red?” You guess, resisting the urge to lean into his palm.
Rafe almost laughs at your answer. It was cute. “Hmm,” He runs his thumb over your bottom lip, gently brushing them. “Yeah, probably.” His eyes meet yours, staring at your face. You were so easy to break. So easy to control. You’d let him do whatever he wanted, no fight or protest. Just endless submission. It was addicting.
You’re getting restless. “Have any plans today?”
Rafe’s hand falls from your face, and his jaw tightens. You always did this. You always try to make small talk, try to create some type of emotional connection between you, even though you knew deep down that he didn't give a shit about you or about your day. “Yeah. I do.” He picks his jacket up from the bed. “Have to go visit my dad's lawyer. Then I’m meeting some friends.”
“That sounds fun,” You say, although meeting with Ward’s lawyer must have something to do with life insurance. “Uh, being with your friends later, I mean.”
“Yeah.” He mutters, shrugging his jacket on. He grabs his keys from the bedside table and glances at you. It’s hard, watching you try to connect to him. He knows that you want more than this. You want to be his girlfriend. You want the world to know you’re his. 
But that couldn’t happen. And you knew that.
“Are you, um…” You shift on the bed, the duvet falling just a little bit. “Are you gonna come back over tonight?”
Rafe glances at you, eyes falling to the duvet. God, he loved how you were always trying to keep him around. He loved watching you try and fail to keep his attention. He lets out a deep breath, running a hand over his buzzed head. “Do you want me to?” He already knows your answer.
“Only if you want to,” You say, trying to not come across as even clingier than you already are. “You know my door’s always open for you.”
He sighs and rolls his eyes. You were always so predictable. So needy. So willing. He starts to wonder when he'll get sick of it. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” He grunts, picking his phone up off of the bedside table and shoving it in his pocket. “I don’t know yet. Might be with Sofia tonight.”
Your soft smile drops, just for a second, and you hope Rafe doesn’t notice.
Sofia.
Sofia?
Who the hell is Sofia?
You knew everyone he hung out with. Every girl. You had tabs on all of them, shamefully. You didn’t know who the hell Sofia was. Had you missed someone? How had she managed to slip through the cracks?
Under the covers, you dig your nails into your thigh. You had to act casual, as normal as you could be. You were always treading thin ice with him, and you couldn’t risk losing him over this. Your smile returns and you give him a nod. “Cool. Just text me.”
Rafe watches as your smile falters for a moment. He knows it. He knows that you’re jealous. There was no way that you weren't. It didn’t take much to make you jealous. He could make one passing comment about a girl, and you’d spend the rest of the day worrying, wondering who she was. That's why he brought up Sofia, and why he always mentions his other girls to you. Something about the idea of you laying in bed, terrified and anxious to lose him, really excited him.
He smirks as you quickly regain composure, knowing that he got to you. “Yeah. I’ll text you.” He says, turning to leave.
“Drive safe.” You say.
He stops as he stands in the doorway. Something about you telling him to drive safe always made him… feel guilty. It was that damn softness you always had and used against him. He glances at you over his shoulder, swallowing whatever sentiment he was feeling. “Sure thing, sweetheart.”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
You hate Sofia.
After a bit of sleuthing, logged into one of your many burner accounts, you finally find her. She’s a Pogue, like you, and for some reason you find that it stings more. She’s gorgeous, absolutely beautiful, the sweetest girl around, and you fucking hate her.
Rafe had a roster. A rotation, the same few girls on repeat until he got bored, where he would swap a few out for fresh meat. You don’t know how you managed to stay on the roster for this long, but you weren’t complaining. Maybe Rafe thought you had another guy out there, filling your cunt and your bed when he was gone, but you didn’t. You’re too busy being Rafe’s to fall for somebody new.
You used to not care about the other girls. The more and more he mentioned them, though, you got curious. You started looking them up on Instagram, stalking their profile through burners and analysing every post. Every story. None of the girls ever looked like you. None of the girls were like you at all. Why did he like them, and why did he like you?
You wonder if he treats the other girls as poorly, or if in some twisted way, you’re special. You could handle being the only girl that Rafe treated like shit if that meant you stood out to him in some way. You wonder if he fills their necks with hickies, too, if he grips their hips too hard and leaves bruises, if he spanks them until his handprints form welts on your ass cheeks.
You hoped to God you were special.
You tried to distract yourself, running errands and tidying your apartment, but you kept thinking about him. About his stupid baby blue eyes, and his stupid pretty face, and his stupid hands and the way they felt around your neck. You didn’t want to be in love with Rafe fucking Cameron, but you feared you were already in too deep, and soon you would drown, falling below the surface, hand outstretched, hoping just this once that he would pull you up.
You sit on your bed, in the dark and the silence, staring at your phone, waiting for it to light up. Waiting for him to text you, to need you.
The hours pass. Midnight. One and two. Three. Before four o'clock rolls around, you still have nothing. You know that you should just give up and go to bed. He probably passed out at his friends’ place, too drunk and too tired to text you, but you keep telling yourself that he's just busy. That he's gonna wake up any moment now and shoot you a text. 
You're praying that something happens, that something keeps you up and keeps you waiting for those messages that you know he most likely won't send. You want him to finally fucking want you in the way that you want him. You didn’t like feeling this way, it wasn’t fun to constantly torture yourself, but is it not fun to feel many other ways? If it wasn’t Rafe, it would just be someone else. Another man, someone else’s son, reminding you that no matter how hard you try, you just aren’t meant to be loved.
Why don’t you do it for him? Why aren’t you enough to get him to stay?
You tap the screen, and it lights up. No new notifications.
“Shit.” You mumble, your hand retreating to your side.
You sigh and lay back, staring at the ceiling. Of course, he isn’t going to text you. Why would he? Why would he do that to you, when he never had before? This is exactly what you expected. This is exactly what he loves. Making you doubt, getting you jealous. It gets him off. It’s a game for him. You were his prey, and he was your predator. 
As you lay, staring at your ceiling, you hear three, quick knocks on your door.
At first, you think you’ve imagined them. You sit up, your feet sliding into your slippers as you pad into the living room. You stand there in silence, in the dark, only listening to your own breathing. You’re about to turn around when there’s another knock, this time loud and pounding against your door.
You cross the rest of the room, undoing the locks and opening the door.
Standing on your doorstep, of course, was Rafe, hands in his pockets as he stares you down. He seems… tired. He had dark circles under his eyes, probably from staying out late. He glances at you from behind those tired eyes, his gaze falling over your body. He’s taking note of the oversized t shirt you’re wearing, and how your hair is dishevelled and messier than it was before. He could tell you had been lying down. “Can I come in?”
Something's off, you can tell. He’s acting different, even though it’s just subtly. You watch him as he chews on his lip, an anxious habit he didn’t think you noticed. “What’s wrong?”
Rafe’s expression falters for a split second, before he quickly regains his composure. He was fine. Nothing was wrong. Except for the fact that you asked him that. He looks over you. “Nothing,” He responds, his voice harsh and biting. “I just wanted to see you. That’s all.”
You don’t believe him. He normally carries himself with intense confidence and gravitas, so much so it constantly inks into your lungs and chokes you, but this was different. He felt different. “Right.”
He swallows hard, shifting on his feet. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like the way you were looking at him. Concerned, like you cared. He glances away from you, sighing. “Can I come in?” He repeats his question, eyes flicking between you and your living room.
You nod, stepping aside and holding the door opening, flicking a light switch. One of your lamps turns on, casting a warm, soft glow over your living room.
Rafe strides into your apartment, immediately heading for your couch. Everything in your place was so damn cozy; the warm light, the soft couch, your scent lingering on every single inch of every single surface. He collapses back onto the couch, arms spread out and legs splayed. He runs a hand over his face, swallowing hard.
You sit next to him, and for a while, you two sit in a comfortable silence. You look over at him, pushing some hair behind your ears. Your voice is soft when you finally speak. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”
Rafe closes his eyes, sighing as you speak. He didn’t want to tell you about Ward. Not when you were like this, so gentle and caring. He was exhausted, to say the least. He was dealing with so much, all at once, and he didn't know what to do. Finally, he looks at you. In this lighting, with your hair messy and your eyes concerned, you looked even more like the sweet girl he always wished you were. Sweet and caring and loving. “Today was my dad's funeral.”
Your shoulders droop, and your eyes soften. You had no idea. He had only mentioned visiting his father’s lawyer to you yesterday morning. “Shit, I’m sorry, Rafe. I’m so sorry.”
Rafe almost groans. He loved you when you were soft, when you were sweet. He loved it more than he cared to admit, but right now he hated it. He hated it when you were this caring. It made him doubt everything. He glances at you, a lump in his throat. He hated when you looked at him that way. Because he knew that no matter what he did, you would always have that warmth in your eyes when you looked at him. You would always forgive him, no matter what he did.
Part of him wishes his dad could’ve met you.
You reach out and put your hand on his shoulder, trying not to overstep. Rafe stares down at your hand, so small in comparison to his shoulder. Something about it makes his chest tighten. It seems intimate, and he feels… safe. Safe with you. Which is a feeling he hasn't felt in God knows how long. 
His hand slowly lifts, his rough fingers wrapping around your wrist. He brings your hand to his face, cupping his cheek. Your thumb brushes over his cheek gently, back and forth.
God, the feeling of you touching him, comforting him, was too much. Your touch was too gentle and warm, and he hated that he wanted it. He hated the way his chest ached at the sight of your soft, kind expression. He had so many reasons he shouldn't be here, shouldn't be letting you touch him like this, and yet there was something inside of him, a small voice in the back of his mind, constantly begging him to please let you take care of him. “Can I ask you something?”
“‘Course.” You say softly. 
Rafe glances at you, eyes flicking between your hand and your face. God, he hated this. Your touch on his face, the tenderness in your voice, the look in your eyes. It was driving him absolutely insane. His eyes close, as if he was debating if he actually wanted to ask you this. “Am I poison? Am I poison in the water?”
“What do you mean?” You ask, eyebrows furrowing.
He opens his eyes again, hand still holding yours to his cheek. He holds your gaze, eyes softening. He hated how vulnerable he was, and yet there was a small piece of him, buried deep inside, that needed it. He could tell you anything right now, and you wouldn't judge him. You would just listen. Care. “Do I… poison everything I touch? Am I the poison that kills everything?”
“No, of course not,” You move closer to him on the couch. “Why would you ask that?”
God, he could smell you, your perfume a subtle, sweet scent that was driving him crazy. He closes his eyes as you move closer, and his jaw tightens. This was insane; he wasn't weak, he wasn't vulnerable, he did not need you. But then again, the hand on yours on his face had yet to move. “Because,” his voice drops to a whisper. “I know that I'm a sick, twisted bastard. I know that I make others sick. I hurt everyone I care about.”
“Rafe, I will admit you aren’t exactly the nicest guy,” You swallow roughly, unsure of what to even say. “But you still have people that care about you. Your friends, your sisters. They know the real Rafe, the guy underneath all the aggression.”
He lets out a long, shaky breath. God, he hated this. He hated being vulnerable. He hated opening up to you, and seeing that look of concern in your eyes. He wants to run, to close you out, leave and forget this ever happened. He wants to go back to treating you like one of his conquests, instead of feeling like he wanted you to hold him. But for some reason, his mouth wasn't listening to his brain. “But what about you?”
“Of course, I care about you,” You say. “I thought that would at least be obvious.”
He had a thousand different replies on the tip of his tongue, but instead his mouth just opened and closed, words dying when they left his lips. Everything in his mind was screaming at him to get up and leave, but there was a deeper part of him, a small piece of himself that he kept buried inside, deep in the back of his mind, that kept whispering, telling him to sit. It was the part that kept his hand on your wrist. He swallows hard, looking away. “I wish my dad was still here.”
“I know,” You say softly. “I’m sorry.”
He felt his eyes begin to sting, something that only added to his frustration. Frustration at himself, for being pathetic enough to cry. Frustration at you, for making him weak enough to cry. Frustration at Ward, for leaving him and his sisters behind. He suddenly hated everything. He hated you. He hated himself. He hated Ward for leaving him with feelings, making him weak. “I don't even know why I came here,” He mutters through gritted teeth. “I just... I wish I could've been good enough for him. I tried to be good.”
“You don’t know how Ward truly felt about you, Rafe.” You say, stroking his cheekbone again.
He hated the way you were comforting him, hated the way you were so gentle with him. He was always on the defensive, on the attack, so when someone was soft with him... Well, the way his chest ached was proof that it was something he wasn't used to. He swallows hard, closing his eyes. “But I do. His actions spoke louder than his damn words ever did,” He chuckles, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It's so stupid, you know, I... I used to pray I’d be like him, do everything that he did. And sometimes I still do.”
“That’s not stupid.” You say.
He lets his hand fall from your wrist, shaking his head. He hated talking about this, he hated admitting how much Ward’s death has messed him up. He didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to open up to anybody. The words leaving his lips, however, were not his own. “I hate that I don’t know if he was proud of me... I hate that I’ll never know if I did right by him.”
You remove your hand when he goes to cover his face. You watch him for a few moments, unsure of what to do, when you notice his shoulders shake. 
Is he crying?
Your eyes widen when you hear a sob rip through him, shoulders shaking up and down. “Hey, hey, Rafe, it’s okay. Don’t cry.”
He hated crying, absolutely hated it, but there he was, shoulders trembling, tears streaming down his cheeks. He couldn’t stop, no matter how hard he tried. “I’m not even- I…” His voice breaks, chest rattling. He lets out a long, shaky breath, shaking his head as he wipes away the tears from his cheeks. He couldn’t even look at you. He hated feeling so weak. Hated that you were seeing this side of him.
“It’s okay,” You put your arm around him, trying to hug him. “It’s okay--”
Rafe suddenly stands, pushing you back. “No. Don’t… don’t fucking pretend like you care.” He wipes his tears with the back of his hand, ashamed that he let Ward affect him this much. He was supposed to be strong. Powerful. Not weak.
“I’m not pretending.” You say, standing up.
His jaw tightens, his expression hardening into a sharp glare. God, he was tired of you, of your sweet words, of your gentle smiles. It was messing with his head, playing with his feelings. “Yeah, right.” He mutters, shaking his head. “You don’t care, don’t bullshit me.”
“Of course I care about you, Rafe,” You say, taking a step closer to him. “I… I lov--”
“No!” He suddenly snaps at you. He didn't want to hear that. He couldn't. “Don’t… don’t you dare,” You stare at him, confusion on your pretty little face, and it’s driving him fucking crazy. “Don’t. Don’t tell me. Keep that shit to yourself.”
You don’t know what to say, and you don’t want to upset him even more. You just nod, taking a step back.
He wanted to hit something. He wanted to break something. He hated the sight of that look on your face. The confusion, the worry, the disappointment. He didn’t understand. Why did you care? He didn’t deserve it, not one bit. What the hell did you think you’d get out of loving someone like him? That he’d love you back? That he’d change for you?
The silence is deafening. You want to say something, you just don’t know what. You take a shaky breath. “I’m here for you, Rafe. You know that. In any way you need me.”
“Why?” He asks suddenly, eyes meeting yours. “Why are you still here for me? Why do you care about me so goddamn much? Why can’t you just give up on me, like everyone else has?”
“Do I look like everyone else?” You ask.
Oh, but that was the problem. You were different. You were the only person in that damn town who was as sweet as you were patient. Who cared so god-damn much about someone so undeserving of that love. “Don’t you think I know that?” He asks, voice dropping to a whisper. “Don’t you think it pisses me off that you are the way you are?”
“I just want you to be happy, Rafe, and if I can make you happy, I want to.” You say.
Why did you have to be so goddamn sweet? It was driving him mad, the way you stood there, so willing and eager to do whatever it took to help him. He let out a long, shaky breath, staring down at you. “It was different when you were just some girl I was hooking up with.” He says, shaking his head.
“I’m still that girl,” You insist. “Nothing has to change. We can go back to normal. Forget this ever happened.”
His eyes narrow as you speak. He hated that you said that, hated how willing you were to forget the fact that he cried in front of you, and yet he hated himself for the fact that he almost wanted to agree. “Really?” He asks, his voice sharp. “You’d just… forget this? Go back to letting me use you, like nothing happened?”
“If that’s what you want.” You say.
He hated the idea of that. The idea of going back to using you. Of treating you like trash when he knew that you cared so damn much. 
Part of him liked hurting you, like watching you fall apart at his hands. But it was the other side of him that hated how good it felt at first, hated the pit of shame in his chest that grew each time you begged him to stay, or cried while he left, or looked at him like he meant the world to you.
Part of him knew you deserved better.
Rafe sighs, looking away. “Fine. We forget about this.”
“Okay.” You say, nodding.
The fact that you didn't say anything, that you didn't fight back, made his chest ache. God, he hated this. He wanted to yell at you. Wanted to push you down, pin you to the couch, and make you cry out his name. He wanted you to ask him to stay, fight him to prove to him that you cared. He hated how your willingness to forget it all made him want to wrap his arms around you. He couldn't stay. He would do something risky, something that he would regret in the morning. He sniffles, wiping his eyes again. “I'm gonna go.”
You swallow thickly. “If you’re sure. My door is always open.”
“Yeah,” He replies, his voice hoarse. He hated that your gentleness, your sweetness, still managed to get to him. He steps closer to you. He wanted to touch you again. To feel your warm, soft skin against his palm. But he knew better. He knew that if he touched you, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. “Thanks for being there.” He mumbles, his voice cracking.
“Of course.” You smile softly.
He hates how your smile makes his chest ache, hates the tug it gives his heart. He hated how he cared about you, hated how he was so weak that he allowed himself to open up to you. And God, he hated how he was thinking about kissing your pretty, pouty lips. “I'll be back tomorrow night. Deal?”
“Deal.”
Rafe nods, licking his lips. He rocks back and forth on his feet before reaching out and cupping the back of your head, pressing his lips to your forehead. Enough to keep you hooked. “See you later, sweetheart.”
Your entire body is buzzing. “Drive safe.”
You’re still standing in the same spot when he leaves, shutting the door behind him.
And you will wait for the next time he wants you.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧
blagh
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coff33andb00ks · 5 hours ago
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AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH ohmigod ohmigod ohmigod fuck ok let's do this
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You stand in front of the mirror, applying the last touches of makeup as sunlight streams through the bedroom window. The reflection shows Carlos lounging on the bed behind you, his dark eyes following your every move.
IMMEDIATELY I'm a puddle
"You know," he says softly, "sometimes I still can't believe this is real. Us, I mean."
"It's real," you assure him, with a small smile, "And it's ours."
disgusting. sickening. horrendous. give me more I'm begging Carlos in love is my new favourite thing
NOT CHARLES HAPLESSLY FLIRTING 😭
As you walk away, Charles say to Carlos, "She's gorgeous, isn't she?"
back OFF boy 🤺🤺
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Giggling hysterically rn
the whole bit of Carlos sneaking into her trailer GAH then the mad dash away and OF COURSE SOMEONE SNAPPED THEM and of COURSE deuxmoi ratted em out 😭
As you put the finishing touches on your makeup, you caught him watching you in the mirror, his eyes full of adoration.
"What?" you asked, suddenly self-conscious.
He shook his head, smiling softly. "Nothing. I just can't believe how lucky I am."
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oh my gooooooooooooddddd this man. also also I absolutely adore the repeat of him watching reader in the mirror. so simple yes but also so intimate and adoring. and it fits into my Carlos-in-love-is-a-total-simp-24/7 agenda
"Go on then," Lando shooed you away playfully, "Go be disgustingly in love somewhere else."
Idk if I've mentioned this before but I love how you write Lando!!! you encapsulate his friendliness and support so well. Like of course Lando would reach out when the gossip hits and of course he'd be supportive of course he'd be so freaking happy that his Carlos is so happy and OF COURSE he'd turn into a little brother figure teasing reader and Carlos all the time it's simply perfect 🥹
Carlos smiled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before standing up. "Wait for me at the finish line?"
"Always."
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I'm gonna throw up UGGGHHH I love them
secret - cs55
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summary: carlos has been keeping his relationship secret for 6 months. the world has no idea that he's dating an a list actress
wc: 5.4k words + social media posts. face claim: emilia clarke
folkie radio: guys... why does it feel illegal to post a carlos fic that's not little bitch?? anyway i hope you like this LEAVE FEEDBACK !
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
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liked by carlossainz55, zendaya and 2,445,805 others
yourinstagram Spain, you have my heart ❤️
view all 16,333 comments
username1 QUEEN
username2 she’s glowiiiing
arianagrande mother 🤎
username3 imagine being the highest paid actress in hollywood looking like that i wouldn’t take shit from anybody
florencepugh you’re the actual loml
↳ yourinstagram Love you baby flo
username4 single yn is glowing
username5 spain also has my heart but i’ve never been there i’m just obsessed with carlos sainz
username6 carlos sainz in the likes wbk he’s a fan since the first season of game of thrones
anasainzvdec 💓💓
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liked by charles_leclerc, yourinstagram and 1,570,487 others
carlossainz55 Short break before heading to Silverstone 🇬🇧
view all 10,248 comments
username1 HOTTEST MAN ALIVE
username2 carlos don’t do this to my ovaries
scuderiaferrari 🌶️🌶️
username3 if he is single who is taking all this boyfriend content
username4 THATS A HUSBAND
blancasainzv 🙌🙌🙌
username5 CARLOS LET ME JUMP ON YOUR BONES
username6 it’s a crime that this man is single looking like this (not really)
landonorris A family man
↳ georgerussell63 😂😂😂
↳ username1 carlando forever
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
You stand in front of the mirror, applying the last touches of makeup as sunlight streams through the bedroom window. The reflection shows Carlos lounging on the bed behind you, his dark eyes following your every move. You can't help but smile, feeling the warmth of his gaze.
As you prepare to leave, your mind wanders to the whirlwind romance of the past six months. It all started with a tweet- Carlos expressing his admiration for your character in Game of Thrones. You hadn't known much about Formula 1 then, but his charm and genuine enthusiasm caught your attention.
Fate brought you together at a high-profile fashion event months later. You remember how your heart raced when he approached you, confidently asking for your number. Within days, he'd asked you out on a proper date.
Now, six months later, you're living in a blissful bubble of secrecy. Neither his fellow drivers nor your co-stars have any idea about your relationship. It's a mutual decision - you're both in the spotlight, and this connection feels too important to expose to the world's scrutiny just yet.
You've just returned from a short trip to Spain, where Carlos introduced you to his family. The warmth of their welcome still lingers, making you feel even more connected to him. His parents had embraced you immediately, and you'd spent hours laughing and sharing stories with his sisters. The trip reinforced the feeling that you truly belonged in Carlos' life.
"Do you really have to leave?" Carlos asks, his Spanish accent more pronounced in his sleepy state.
"You know I do, darling. This film isn't going to shoot itself," you turn to face him, taking in his tousled hair and bare chest.
Carlos props himself up on his elbows, a playful smirk on his lips. "But I can think of so many better ways to spend the day."
You walk over to the bed, leaning down to place a soft kiss on his lips. "Tempting, but I've got to go. We can't all race cars for a living, you know."
His hand catches yours as you start to pull away. "Just five more minutes?" he pleads, pulling you closer.
You allow yourself to be drawn in, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You're impossible," you say, but there's no real frustration in your voice.
"Impossible to resist, you mean," Carlos wraps an arm around your waist, nuzzling into your neck.
"That too," you laugh, running your fingers through his hair. "But seriously, I need to leave soon."
He sighs dramatically, flopping back onto the pillows. "Fine, fine. Go be a famous actress. Leave me here all alone."
"Drama queen," you roll your eyes, standing up. "You've got meetings later anyway."
As you gather your things, Carlos watches you with a mix of admiration and affection.
"You know," he says softly, "sometimes I still can't believe this is real. Us, I mean."
"It's real," you assure him, with a small smile, "And it's ours."
"I guess my obsession with Daenerys Targaryen paid off," Carlos grins, sitting up, "Though I have to say, the real you is even better than any character."
"Smooth talker. No wonder I fell for you so quickly," you roll your eyes playfully as you walk over to the bed, cupping his face in your hands. "As tempting as that is, love, we both have responsibilities. But tonight, it's just us."
He leans into your touch, then pulls you down for a deep kiss. When you part, both slightly breathless, he whispers, "I can't wait."
With a final blown kiss, you slip out of the room, your heart full and a smile on your lips. Another day of keeping your relationship under wraps begins, but you wouldn't have it any other way. Your mind is already counting down the hours until you can be in his arms again, safe in your private world built for two.
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
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liked by username1, username2 and 19,836 others
ynupdates YN arriving for filming today in London!
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username1 MY BUBBB
username2 why so serious
username3 she has a movie premiering in two months and she’s already filming another talk about an icon
username4 love the fitttt
username5 streets say she’s got a boyfriend now 👀
↳ username1 source: trust me bro
↳ username2 SPILL THE DEETS
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
You sink into the plush couch in Carlos' living room, the aroma of your favorite pasta filling the air. This has become your ritual - intimate dinners at home, safe from prying eyes and camera flashes. Sometimes you cook together, but tonight you've ordered in from that little Italian place Carlos adores.
"This is perfect," you sigh contentedly as Carlos settles beside you, two plates balanced in his hands. "I'll take nosy neighbors over paparazzi any day."
"Agreed," Carlos chuckles, handing you your plate, "Though I'm pretty sure my neighbor thinks I've developed an unhealthy obsession with takeout."
"Little do they know you're just obsessed with me," you lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.
"Guilty as charged," he grins, pulling you closer.
As you eat, you share stories about your day. Carlos absently traces patterns on your knee, and you find yourself melting into his touch.
"Oh," you say, remembering suddenly. "My team suggested something interesting today."
"What would that be, amor?" Carlos raises an eyebrow, intrigued.
You take a sip of wine before answering. "They think it would be a good idea for me to attend the Silverstone Grand Prix."
For obvious reasons, you haven't been able to join Carlos for a race since your relationship began. The need for secrecy and your busy schedules have kept you from sharing this crucial part of his life.
So when your team suggested you should attend the British Grand Prix at Silverstone to promote your new movie, you felt a surge of excitement. The prospect of finally seeing Carlos in his element, even if you had to pretend not to know each other, made you giddy.
"Really? That's... wow," Carlos said, his eyes twinkling.
"Don't get too excited," you nudge him playfully. "We'll have to pretend we barely know each other, you know."
Carlos groans dramatically, flopping back against the couch. "You mean I can't sweep you off your feet in front of thousands of fans? How will I cope?"
You laugh, setting your plate aside to cuddle closer to him. "I'm sure you'll manage. Just think of it as acting practice for both of us."
He wraps an arm around you, his voice growing softer. "You know, I always imagined the first race you'd attend would be as my girlfriend. With everyone knowing how lucky I am."
"I know, love," your heart swells at his words. "But hey, we'll still be together, even if no one else knows it."
Carlos nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You're right. And I am happy you'll be there. Even if I have to pretend I'm not crazy about you."
"Well, there's no pretending now," you look up at him, a mischievous glint in your eye. "Show me just how crazy about me you are."
With a playful growl, Carlos pulls you onto his lap, dinner forgotten as his lips find yours. In moments like these, the secrecy feels worth it - these moments are yours alone, untouched by the outside world.
As you break apart, slightly breathless, Carlos murmurs against your lips, "Maybe we can sneak a moment at Silverstone. A secret rendezvous in the paddock?"
"Now that would make headlines", you laugh, running your fingers through his hair. "'Famous actress and F1 star caught canoodling behind the garages.'"
"Worth it," Carlos grins, pulling you in for another kiss.
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
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liked by yourinstagram, charles_leclerc and 1,836,426 others
carlossainz55 Beyond excited for Silverstone this weekend. Let’s do this 🙌
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username1 MY MAN
username2 he’s really the hottest man alive
scuderiaferrari We got this 😌
username3 SILVERSTONE MORE LIKE CARLOSTONE
username4 manifesting another silverstone win
username5 my girl yn in the likes she’s so real
landonorris 🥵🥵🥵🥵
↳ username1 these two being single right now just means they get to be menaces
↳ carlossainz55 Weird
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
The early morning light filters through the curtains of your bedroom as you help Carlos adjust his red Ferrari hoodie. Your fingers linger on his shoulders, savoring these last private moments before the chaos of race day begins.
"Remember," you tease, smoothing down his collar, "hands to yourself out there, Sainz."
"That might be a challenge, amor," Carlos grins, his eyes sparkling, "Especially with you wearing my number."
You playfully swat his arm, adjusting the Ferrari cap with Carlos' number that sits atop your head. "I mean it. We've managed to keep this under wraps for six months. Let's not blow our cover now."
"Fine, fine," he pulls you close, nuzzling your neck, "But you owe me for this torture."
"Torture, is it?" you laugh, tilting your head to give him better access. "Such a dramatic driver I've fallen for."
"In all honesty," Carlos pulls back, his expression suddenly serious, "I wish I could shout it from the podium today. That I'm the luckiest man in the world because I have you."
"Soon," you promise, cupping his face. "For now, let's enjoy our little secret."
With a final, lingering kiss, Carlos reluctantly steps away. "I'd better go. See you out there, amor."
"Go get 'em, tiger."
Hours later, you arrive at the circuit, your stomach fluttering with nerves. The Ferrari cap with Carlos' number feels like a subtle declaration, a secret sign that only you and Carlos truly understand.
"We'll start with Ferrari," your manager explains. "Given your... interest in the team."
You nod, fighting to keep your expression neutral. If only she knew the real reason for your interest.
As you approach the Ferrari garage, you spot Charles Leclerc first. Carlos had told you stories about his teammate before – his skill on the track, his competitive nature, and his charming personality. Now, seeing him in person, you understand why he's such a fan favorite.
Charles notices you approaching and breaks into a warm smile. He steps forward, extending his hand. "Hello there! I'm Charles Leclerc. Big fan."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Charles," you shake his hand, returning the smile. "I've heard great things about you."
"All good, I hope," he chuckles. "Is this your first time at a Grand Prix?"
"It is! I'm thrilled to be here. The energy is incredible already."
"Oh, just wait until the race starts. There's nothing quite like it." He pauses, then adds, "Have you met my teammate yet? He's around here somewhere..."
As if on cue, you hear a familiar voice behind you. "Did someone mention me?"
Your heart skips a beat as Carlos approaches and it takes every ounce of your acting skills to keep your expression neutral as he extends his hand.
"Carlos Sainz," he introduces himself, a cocky smirk on his lips, "Welcome to our garage."
As you shake his hand, you're hyper-aware of every point of contact. This man knows every inch of you, has held you countless times, yet here you are, pretending to be strangers. It's thrilling and frustrating all at once.
"It's great to meet you both," you manage to say, proud of how steady your voice sounds. "I can't wait to see you race."
"Well I hope we make a good first impression," Carlos said, and the look in his eyes told you that it was taking everything in him to keep his hands away from you.
"Carlos is being modest," Charles chimes in. "He's had some of his best performances here. You might be in for a treat today."
You raise an eyebrow, glancing at Carlos. "Is that so? Well, now I'm even more excited to watch."
Carlos rubs the back of his neck, a gesture you know is partly genuine modesty and partly an act. "Charles exaggerates. But I'll do my best to put on a good show for you- I mean, for all the fans."
"I'm sure you both will," you say, including Charles in your gaze to avoid suspicion.
A crew member approaches, informing Carlos and Charles that they're needed for a pre-race briefing shortly, and at the same time, a photographer appears asking for a picture. You pose with Charles first and shortly after Carlos stands next to you, his hand almost squeezing your waist sending shivers down your spine.
After the photo, you reluctantly step away. "I should let you get to your briefing. Good luck in the race, gentlemen!"
As you walk away, Charles say to Carlos, "She's gorgeous, isn't she?"
Carlos feels a sudden pang of jealousy, fighting the urge to declare that you're his. Instead, he replies with a smug tone, "She certainly is. But remember, we're here to race, not to admire the guests."
You make your way to the McLaren garage, where you're introduced to Lando Norris, Carlos' best friend. Lando's infectious energy has you laughing within minutes. You can see why he and Carlos get along so well, and you find yourself wishing you could share stories about your boyfriend with his best friend.
As you're about to leave the McLaren garage, your phone buzzes with a text from Carlos.
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Against your better judgment, you find yourself making excuses to your team and heading towards Carlos' driver's room. You slip inside, closing the door behind you and praying no one saw you.
Carlos is there in an instant, pulling you into his arms. "Dios mio, do you know how hard it was to keep my hands off you out there?"
"Behave yourself, Sainz," you laugh, melting into his embrace, "We have an image to maintain."
"Oh? And what image is that?" he pulls back, his eyes twinkling, "Because right now, all I can think about is how adorable you look in my cap."
"Flatterer," you tease, running your hands up his chest, admiring how the race suit fits him. "You don't look so bad yourself in this. First time I'm seeing it in person, you know."
Carlos grins, leaning in to brush his lips against yours. "Like what you see?"
"Maybe," you say coyly, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "But shouldn't you be focusing on the race?"
"You're killing me, hermosa," he groans dramatically, pulling you back against him, "How am I supposed to focus on driving when all I can think about is you?"
"Well," you suggest, "Maybe you need some motivation. Win the race, and I'll give you a proper celebration later."
"Now that's what I call incentive," he pecked your lips, and suddenly his eyes light up with an idea. He reaches for his phone. "Wait, I need a picture of you in that cap. My good luck charm."
You roll your eyes but pose anyway, tilting the cap at a jaunty angle. Carlos snaps the photo, grinning widely.
"Perfect," he says, showing you the result. "This is going to be my new favorite picture."
You're about to reply when a knock at the door makes you both freeze. "Carlos? Are you in there? Last pre-race briefing in two minutes," comes a voice from outside.
You stifle a giggle as Carlos calls back, "Be right there!"
He turns back to you, stealing one last passionate kiss before reluctantly stepping away. "This isn't over," he promises.
"I should hope not," you tease, straightening his collar. "Now go out there and make me proud."
As Carlos heads for the door, he pauses, looking back at you with a soft smile. "Te amo, YN."
"I love you too. Now go be the champion I know you are."
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
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f1world THESE TWO 🥹🥹🙌
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username1 AHHH THEY LOOK SO CUTE
username2 i bet carlos’ fanboy ass was shaking
username3 they look so good together hello????
username4 not yn zendaya-ing
username5 HER SMILE
username6 love them so much they should date
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liked by carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari and 3,012,368 others
yourinstagram SILVERSTONE. In another life I was a F1 driver. Yesterday I got to hang out with real ones and their pretty pretty cars. And I did not play it cool 😌
view all 36,836 comments
username1 AHHHH ICON
username2 QUEEN OF THE PADDOCK
username3 she should go to every gp idc
scuderiaferarri You’re welcome anytime 🙌
username4 “got to hang out with real ones” and just posts carlos
username5 WHERE IS MY LANDO X YN PIC
emmacorrin 😍😍😍😍
username6 CARLOSYN YES
charles_leclerc Lovely to meet you 😘
↳ username1 and she didn’t post him help
carlossainz55 An absolute pleasure to chat with you 😉
↳ yourinstagram Likewise !
↳ username2 DATE
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liked by landonorris, yourinstagram and 1,289,300 others
carlossainz55 Triple header done, time to recharge and come back stronger in Hungary! 💪🏻
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username1 CHILIIIIII
username2 of course he was going to post his pic with yn he's such a fanboy
username3 ICONS IN THE THIRD PIC
scuderiaferrari Always the Smooth Operator 🌶️
username4 YN'S FACE IN THE THIRD PIC
username5 i ship carlos and yn
username6 i like the british gp bc actual cool celebrities attend not like the miami gp
yourinstagram Amazing weekend ❤️
↳ username1 HELLOOOOOO
deuxmoi has added to their stories
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───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
After the excitement of Silverstone, reality had set in quickly. You had to fly to Switzerland for your latest film project, while Carlos was called to Maranello for team duties. The goodbye had been bittersweet.
Now, a week later, you're on set in Switzerland, immersed in the world of your latest film. The day has been long, filled with intense scenes and multiple takes. As you trudge back to your trailer, your mind wanders to your boyfriend, wishing you could share the day's triumphs and frustrations with him, but he was miles away.
You open the trailer door, lost in thought, and nearly jump out of your skin when you see a figure inside. Your heart rate skyrockets, then immediately settles as you recognize the familiar silhouette.
"Carlos?" you whisper, a mix of shock and joy coursing through you. "What are you doing here?"
He turns, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Surprise, baby!"
You rush into his arms, all exhaustion forgotten as he envelops you in a warm embrace. The familiar scent of his cologne wraps around you, and you feel the tension in your body melt away.
But as quickly as the joy comes, worry follows. You pull back slightly, glancing nervously at the door. "Carlos, how did you even get in here what if someone sees you? We can't risk-"
He silences your concerns with a gentle kiss. "Relax, amor. I was careful. No one saw me come in."
Despite your worries, you can't help but lean into him again, savoring the feeling of being in his arms after a week apart.
"I've missed you," you murmur against his chest.
"I've missed you too," he replies, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your back, "It's like I'm addicted to you, I can't be apart from you for too long."
You look up at him, taking in the warmth in his brown eyes, the slight stubble on his jaw that you love to trace with your fingers. The realization of how much you've missed him hits you all at once, and you pull him down for a deeper kiss.
When you part, both slightly breathless, you can't help but laugh softly. "This is crazy, you know. What if my co-stars come knocking?"
"Then I'll hide in the closet like a teenager sneaking around. It'll be exciting."
He shrugged and you playfully swat his arm, but you can't deny the thrill of having him here, in your space, surrounded by the world of your work.
"How long can you stay?" you ask, hoping against hope that it's more than just a fleeting visit.
"I have to leave early tomorrow," he says, a hint of regret in his voice, "I know it's not much time together but I really needed to see you, kiss you, just be with you."
"I have to go back to filming now," you say reluctantly. "But I'll be done in a few hours."
Carlos nods understandingly. "Go, cariño. I'll wait here in your trailer. Maybe I'll raid your snack stash," he adds with a playful wink.
You laugh, giving him one last quick kiss before heading out. "Behave yourself, Sainz."
The rest of your filming flies by, your spirits lifted by the knowledge that Carlos is waiting for you. As soon as the director calls wrap, you hurry back to your trailer, your heart racing with anticipation.
Carlos is lounging on your small couch when you return, scrolling through his phone. He looks up as you enter, his face breaking into a warm smile. "There's my star."
You collapse into his arms, sighing contentedly. "I still can't believe you're here."
After a few moments of just holding each other, you both decide it's time to head to your hotel. You peek out of the trailer, checking if the coast is clear.
"Okay, I think we're good," you whisper, grabbing Carlos' hand and making a dash for it.
You weave between trailers and equipment, your hearts pounding with a mix of excitement and nervousness. Just as you're about to round the final corner to the parking lot, you spot a crew member heading your way.
"Quick, behind here," Carlos whispers urgently, pulling you behind a large lighting rig.
You both hold your breath as the crew member passes by, mere feet from your hiding spot. Once they're gone, you share a look of relief and almost burst out laughing at the same time. The situation was definitely comic.
As you make your final dash to your car, you hear a surprised voice calling your name from behind you. Turning slightly, you see one of the production assistants, their eyes wide with surprise as they take in the sight of you and Carlos hand-in-hand.
Without stopping, you give a quick wave and a "Goodnight!" before practically diving into your car. Carlos follows suit, and you peel out of the parking lot perhaps a bit faster than necessary. Thank god you're not the race car driver in the relationship.
Once you're on the road, you let out a long breath. "Well, that was close,"
"It's okay, amor," Carlos reaches over to squeeze your hand reassuringly, "Even if they saw us, it doesn't have to mean anything."
"But what if they start asking questions?" you glance at him, unconvinced, "Or worse, what if they tell someone? Deuxmoi is already onto us after Silverstone, what if someone tips them?"
"I still don't understand what Deuxmoi is," Carlos looked at you with confusion, which made you laugh, "But we'll deal with it. Remember, we haven't done anything wrong. We're just two people who care about each other."
You nod, trying to let his words calm you. "I know, I know. It's just... I'm not ready for the world to know yet. To have our relationship picked apart and speculated about."
Carlos brings your hand to his lips, kissing it softly. "I understand. And we'll do everything we can to keep our privacy."
"Okay," you agree, offering him a small smile. "Thank you for always knowing how to calm me down."
"It's because I love you," Carlos says simply, his eyes warm as they meet yours at a stoplight.
The rest of the drive passes in comfortable conversation. By the time you reach the hotel, you're feeling much more relaxed, ready to enjoy your time together.
As you park the car, Carlos turns to you with a mischievous grin. "Now, shall we make another escape to your room, or do you think we can manage to walk in like normal people this time?"
"I think we can risk it. But if anyone asks, you're just my very attractive Swiss tour guide."
"Tour guide, huh?" Carlos waggles his eyebrows. "I can think of a few places I'd like to show you."
Rolling your eyes affectionately, you get out of the car. "Come on, horndog. Let's go before you get us into more trouble."
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
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liked by username1, username2 and 26,839 others
gossiphub Guess who got caught sneaking out of a movie set in Switzerland? None other than actress YN and Ferrari driver Carlos Sainz! 📸 These two were seen holding hands and looking super close. Could this be the start of a new power couple? What are your thoughts?
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username1 OMFGGGG
username2 AH I KNEW IT
username3 this was expected after silverstone
username4 THE POWER THIS HOLDS
username5 the couple we didn’t know we needed
username6 YALL what if they’ve been actually dating for longer 😭
username7 I NEED MORE OF THIS
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liked by username1, username2 and 16,839 others
sainznews “YN is someone I admire a lot. Right now, though, I'm fully focused on the season and my performance on the track. I prefer to keep my personal life separate from my professional life.” -Carlos today !
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username1 BROOOO
username2 he said you’re NAWT getting details
username3 bold of the interviewer to ask 😭
username4 i really want them to be a couple but maybe they’re just friends
username5 COME ON SPILL THE DEETS
username6 oh well
username7 his ass was shaking
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yourinstagram The train ride home ❣️
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username1 iconic behavior
username2 girl come here address the rumors
gemmachan A beauty 🤍🤍
daisyedgarjones 🥹🥹
username3 i love that both of them are just playing dumb
username4 CARLOS IN THE LIKES
username5 ah shit they’re not going to confirm anything
username6 CARLOSYN IS REAL
username7 potential it couple and they’re playing dumb
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
The headlines hit like a tidal wave after your Swiss rendezvous. "A List Actress Spotted with F1 Star Carlos Sainz!" "YN and Carlos Sainz: Secret Romance?" Paparazzi photos of your flooded gossip sites and social media. Fans and media alike dissecting every detail of the grainy images.
You and Carlos spent hours on the phone, figuring out your response. "Maybe we should just confirm it," Carlos suggested one night, his voice tinged with frustration.
"Not yet," you replied, biting your lip. "Let's wait for it to die down a bit. We don't owe them an explanation."
So you played it cool, neither confirming nor denying the rumors. Carlos deflected questions at press conferences with his characteristic charm, while you posted on social media as if nothing had changed. It was stressful, constantly looking over your shoulders, but you managed to keep your relationship under wraps for a little longer.
However, as the world premiere of your movie approached, you made a decision. Curled up on the couch with Carlos during a rare weekend together, you turned to him, tracing patterns on his chest.
"I've been thinking," you started, your heart racing.
Carlos looked at you, his eyes soft. "About what, cariño?"
You took a deep breath. "I want you to come with me to the premiere. As my date. I'm ready for the world to know about us."
Carlos' face lit up with pure joy. He sat up, pulling you onto his lap. "Really? You're sure about this?"
"I'm sure," you nodded, cupping his face, "I love you, Carlos. I'm tired of hiding it."
He peppered your face with kisses, unable to contain his excitement. "I love you too, YN. So much. You have no idea how happy this makes me."
"I think I have some idea," you teased, gesturing to his beaming face.
Carlos pulled you closer, his forehead resting against yours. "No more sneaking around? No more pretending we're just friends?"
"No more," you confirmed.
He kissed you deeply, pouring all his love and excitement into it. When you parted, both slightly breathless, Carlos grinned. "So, do I get to coordinate my tie with your dress?"
"Is that all you're thinking about? Fashion?" you rolled your eyes affectionately.
"No," he replied, his eyes twinkling. "I'm also thinking about how I get to show off the most beautiful, talented woman in the world as my girlfriend."
The night of the premiere arrived quicker than you expected. Carlos looked devastatingly handsome in a sharp black suit, his hair perfectly styled. As you put the finishing touches on your makeup, you caught him watching you in the mirror, his eyes full of adoration.
"What?" you asked, suddenly self-conscious.
He shook his head, smiling softly. "Nothing. I just can't believe how lucky I am."
In the limo on the way to the theater, Carlos took your hand, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your skin. "Nervous?" he asked.
You nodded, letting out a shaky breath. "A little. You?"
"Excited," he replied, bringing your hand to his lips for a soft kiss. As the limo approached the theater, you could already hear the roar of the crowd. Carlos pulled you close, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. "Remember, no matter what happens out there, it's just you and me. Okay?"
"You and me."
The limo door opened, and suddenly you were blinded by camera flashes. Carlos stepped out first, then turned to offer you his hand. As you emerged, the crowd's volume doubled. Carlos kept his hand on the small of your back, a constant reassuring presence as you made your way down the carpet.
When you reached the photo spot, he pulled you close, his arm wrapping securely around your waist. The crowd went wild, cameras clicking furiously. You could hear reporters shouting questions, but you focused on Carlos, on the warmth of his touch and the love in his eyes.
As you made your way down the carpet, Carlos couldn't seem to keep his hands off you. He'd lean in to in your ear, his hand never leaving your waist. At one point, he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, sending the photographers into a frenzy.
You stopped for a few interviews, Carlos by your side the whole time. When asked about your relationship, you simply smiled and said, "We're very happy together." Carlos would beam at you, his pride evident in every glance.
By the time you entered the theater, you were both giddy with excitement and relief. As you took your seats, Carlos leaned over, his lips brushing your ear. "You were amazing out there. I love you so much."
You turned to him, your heart full. "I love you too. Thank you for being here with me."
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
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gossiphub 🚨🚨CARLOS SAINZ AND YN HAVE ARRIVED TOGETHER AT HER PREMIERE IN LONDON
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username1 OMGGGGG
username2 I CANNOT BELIEVE MY EYES
username3 IT WAS REAL ALL THIS TIME
username4 power couple of the century
username5 they look so cunty omg f1 needed a couple like this
username6 FACE ECONOMY TOGETHER
username7 IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS TIME
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yourinstagram My handsome date 🥰
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username1 AHHHHH
username2 CARLOS I WASNT FAMILIAR WITH YOUR GAME
username3 man he is so HOT
andrewgarfield Can you get me tickets for a Grand Prix?
↳ username1 HEEEEELP
↳ yourinstagram 🙄🙄🙄
↳ carlossainz55 You’re welcome anytime, mate!
username4 yn blessing us with boyfriend carlos content already
username5 this relationship is the best thing that happened to us
landonorris Oh he showers
↳ maxverstappen1 Really impressive
↳ username1 THE GRID IS HERE
↳ carlossainz55 Cabrones
carlossainz55 I love you mi amor ❤️❤️
↳ yourinstagram 🥹
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carlossainz55 My 👸❤️
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username1 OH LORDDD
username2 SIMP CARLOS
username3 he’s so in love my heart
scuderiaferarri ❤️
anasainzvdec Hermosa!
blancasainzv 🤍🤍🤍
username4 this relationship is a blessing for real
username5 CARLOS POSTING HIS GF???? HIS A LIST ACTRESS GF ?????
username6 i love them sm
username7 how long do you think he waited before turning his insta into a fanpage of her
fernandoalo_oficial 👏👏👏
pierregasly Double dates?
↳ francisca.cgomes PRETTY PLEASE
↳ yourinstagram Absolutely 🥰
yourinstagram I loveeeeeee youuuuu
↳ carlossainz55 ❤️
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
The Dutch Grand Prix in Zandvoort, the first race after the summer break. You were attending again, but this time, you walked into the paddock hand-in-hand with Carlos. There was no need for secrecy. You were here as his girlfriend, and the world knew it.
Fans call out your names as you make your way through the paddock, and you both wave, Carlos' arm protectively around your waist. The comfort of being able to show your affection openly still feels thrilling.
As you approach the Ferrari garage, you spot Charles chatting with some engineers. He turns and breaks into a wide grin at the sight of you two.
"Well, well, if it isn't the happy couple!" Charles calls out, walking over to greet you.
"Charles, I don't think you've been properly introduced to my girlfriend yet," Carlos laughs, pulling you closer.
You exchange pleasantries, and then Charles shakes his head, chuckling. "You know, I feel terrible now. I literally wanted to ask you out that day at Silverstone because I had no idea you were together!"
You all share a laugh at the irony, and Carlos playfully narrows his eyes at his teammate. "Watch it, Leclerc. She's taken."
"Be nice, darling," you swat Carlos' arm lightly, "Charles is just being honest."
As you watched Carlos chat animatedly with his teammate, you couldn't help but feel a sense of rightness. This was where you belonged, by Carlos' side, sharing in his world.
"Carlos, we need you for a quick strategy briefing," the engineer said, glancing at his watch.
Carlos nodded, then turned to you with an apologetic smile. "Duty calls, amor. I shouldn't be too long."
"No worries," you assured him. "I'll find ways to entertain myself."
He leaned in, kissing you softly. "I'll text you when I'm done," he promised, then followed his engineer out of the room.
With some time to kill, you decided to explore the paddock. It felt liberating to walk around openly, no longer worried about being spotted or sparking rumors. As you passed the McLaren garage, a familiar voice called out to you.
"Well, if it isn't Mrs. Smooth Operator herself!"
You turned to see Lando Norris grinning at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
"Lando!" you greeted him warmly. "How are you?"
"I'm good, but more importantly, how are you?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Finally free from the chains of secrecy, eh?"
You recalled the night when the headlines about your relationship with Carlos had broken, and Lando had been the first to reach out. That evening, over dinner at your place, you and Carlos had shared the story of your six-month secret romance with him. Lando had been surprisingly supportive, and since then, he'd become a close confidant and ally.
You chatted with him for a bit, he was someone always fun to talk to and you were happy Carlos had someone like him in his life.
Just then, your phone buzzed with a text from Carlos.
"Let me guess," Lando said, a knowing smirk on his face. "Lover boy is calling?"
You rolled your eyes good-naturedly. "As a matter of fact, yes. I should probably go."
"Go on then," Lando shooed you away playfully, "Go be disgustingly in love somewhere else."
You laughed, giving him a quick hug before heading towards the Ferrari hub. As you walked, you felt happy to be able to walk openly into his private space without worrying about prying eyes or rumors.
You knocked softly on the door of his driver's room. "Come in," Carlos called out.
As you entered, you found Carlos sitting on the small couch, still in his casual team gear. He looked up, his face breaking into a warm smile as he saw you.
"Hey you," he said, standing up and crossing the room to pull you into an embrace.
"Hey yourself," you replied, melting into his arms. "How are you feeling?"
Carlos pulled back slightly, his hands resting on your waist. "Better now that you're here," he said, his eyes twinkling.
You laughed softly, reaching up to smooth a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "Charmer. But really, how are you?"
He took a deep breath, his expression turning more serious. "A little nervous, if I'm honest. The pressure is high here."
"That's natural," you nodded understandingly, your hand coming to rest on his cheek, "But Carlos, you're amazing. You've got this."
"Thank you, cariño," he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly, "Your support means everything to me."
For a moment, you both stood there in comfortable silence, foreheads touching, breathing each other in. There was no rush, no fear of discovery. Just the two of you, sharing a quiet moment before the storm of the race.
"I love that we can do this now," you murmured, breaking the silence. "No sneaking around, no looking over our shoulders."
Carlos smiled, pulling you closer. "Me too. It feels right, doesn't it? Having you here with me, openly by my side."
You nodded, your heart swelling with emotion. "It does. I'm so proud to be with you, Carlos. To support you."
His eyes softened, and he leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. You responded eagerly, pouring all your love and support into the gesture.
"I love you," he whispered.
"I love you too," you replied, your fingers tracing patterns on the back of his neck.
A knock on the door interrupted your moment. "Ten minutes, Carlos," came a voice from outside.
"I should go," you said reluctantly, but Carlos held onto your hand.
"Stay with me?" he asked, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. "Just for a few more minutes?"
You nodded, squeezing his hand. "Of course."
You sat together on the small couch, Carlos's arm around you, your head resting on his shoulder. No words were needed; your presence was enough to calm his pre-race nerves.
As the minutes ticked by, you felt Carlos take a deep breath, his body shifting as he prepared mentally for the race ahead.
"Time to go be a superhero," you said softly, lifting your head to meet his gaze.
Carlos smiled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before standing up. "Wait for me at the finish line?"
"Always."
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yourinstagram Heart eyes for my smooth operator 🥰
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username1 AWEEEE
username2 she’s down bad
arianagrande glowiiiing ✨
username3 couple of the century
username4 i love how they were keeping it lowkey but now they can’t stop posting each other as they should
scuderiaferarri Our paddock queen ❤️
username5 yn don’t get used to the ferrari red you’ll be wearing blue next year
username6 GET MARRIED ALREADY
anasainzvdec 😍
username7 every time the camera showed her she was either panicking or grinning from ear to ear I LOVE HER
carlossainz55 Mi amor 🤍
↳ username1 CARLOSSS
↳ username2 that should be me
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carlossainz55 P10 ➡️ P5! Beyond happy to share the race with my love @/yourinstagram 😘 Special weekend ahead at Monza, can’t wait to race in front of our Tifosi!
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username1 AHHHHHH
username2 BEST COUPLE EVER
username3 YN DID HOT LAPS WITH CARLOS !!!!
↳ username1 BEST VIDEO EVER
↳ username2 I LOVE THEM SO BAD
scuderiaferarri The Tifosi awaits ❤️
anasainzvdec 🙌
username4 VAMOS CARLITOS
username5 yn and carlos sainz dating is the best thing ever
charles_leclerc 👌👌👌
yourinstagram I love you 🥰🥰 I could get used to this
↳ username1 QUEEN NEVER LEAVE THE PADDOCK
↳ username2 we need her at every race
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amoressb · 2 days ago
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───── LIKE HIM ? 박성훈 P. SH
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ꪆৎ ⋆˚࿔ there are times where sunghoon wishes he was…like him 。。 bf!sunghoon x reader. angst , fluff & wc. 1.06k ; insecurity , reassurance , skinship 。。
──── ARCHiVE
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the rain drummed softly against the apartment windows, it’s steady rhythm filling the quiet space. sunghoon sat at the kitchen table, his elbows resting on the worn wooden surface, his hands clasped together. he stared down at his coffee, now cold and untouched, his thoughts heavier than the storm clouds outside.
your laughter carried faintly from the living room. you were on the couch, scrolling through your phone and watching videos. normally, the sound of your laughter eased sunghoon, made him feel like everything in the world was okay for a moment but tonight, it only made the knot in his stomach tighten.
sunghoon wasn’t blind to the differences between himself and your ex, eathen. he’s seen the photos on your social media—snapshots of eathen holding you close, planting kisses on your cheek, or wrapping his arms around your waist in public like he couldn’t bear to let you go. eathen had been open, warm, and effortlessly romantic. sunghoon… wasn’t. he loved you deeply, but he wasn’t good at expressing it in the same way. he didn’t instinctively reach for your hand in public or shower you with compliments.
he wondered if you missed that.
the thought gnawed at him until he couldn’t take it anymore. he pushed his chair back, the sound scraping against the floor, and stood. your head turned toward the sound, your face lighting up when you saw him. “hey,” you said warmly. “i was wondering when you were going to come join me.”
sunghoon hesitated in the doorway. “can we…talk for a second?”
your smile faded slightly, replaced by a look of concern. you put your phone down and sat up straight, patting the seat next to you. “of course, come here.”
he walked over slowly, sitting down beside you but leaving a small gap between. you noticed immediately and scooted closer, resting your hand on his knee. “what’s wrong?”
sunghoon looked down at your hand for a moment, then took a deep breath. “do you ever… wish i was different?” he asked quietly.
you blinked, caught off guard. “what do you mean?”
“like… do you ever wish i was more like eathen?” the words felt heavy in his mouth, but he forced them out. “he was so good at showing you how much he cared. he always knew the right things to say, the right things to do and i’m just…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “i’m not like that. i’m not good at being affectionate and i know i come off as cold sometimes. i just… i don’t want you to feel like i don’t love you because i don’t show it the way he did.”
your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. you shifted closer, your hand moving to his cheek to gently turn his face toward hers. “hoon,” you said softly, “where is this coming from?”
he shrugged, avoiding your eyes. “i just… i think about it a lot. you deserve someone who can give you all those little romantic things. someone who’s warm and expressive and can make you feel loved all the time and i don’t know if i’m that guy.”
your expression softened as you listened. you let your hand drop to his, lacing your fingers with his. “hoon,” you began gently, “i don’t want you to be eathen. i don’t want you to be anyone but you.”
“but what if that’s not enough?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly.
“it is,” you said firmly. “you’re enough. you think i don’t notice the way you show me you care? you do it in your own way and it means more to me than anything eathen ever did. you don’t hold my hand all the time, but you always make sure i’m okay. you bring me my favorite snacks when i don’t ask for them. you remember the things i say, even when i forget i said them. that’s love, hoon.”
sunghoon looked at you, his doubt still lingering but softened by your words. you leaned forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. he stiffened at first, but your warmth was impossible to resist. slowly, he wrapped his arms around your waist and let himself relax into your embrace, his head resting on your shoulder.
“come on,” you murmured, guiding him to lie down on the couch with you. you tugged him gently until he was resting on top of you, his weight pressing you into the cushions in a way that felt grounding.
he opened his mouth to protest, but you shushed him softly, your hand moving to the back of his head. “just let me hold you for a bit, okay?”
he closed his eyes, letting himself sink into your touch. your fingers threaded through his hair, your other hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on his back. you pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head, then another, your lips lingering as if trying to imprint reassurance into him.
“you’re everything to me,” you whispered against his hair. “you don’t have to be anyone else. you don’t have to do grand gestures or say all the right words. just being here with me, like this, is all i’ve ever wanted.”
sunghoon’s arms tightened around you as your words washed over him, his chest aching in a way that felt both painful and healing.
“i love you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “i love the way you care, even when you don’t think it’s enough. i love your quiet moments, your thoughtfulness, the way you see me. you’re more than enough, hoon…always.”
he didn’t respond, but you could feel his breathing start to slow, his body growing heavier against yours as he began to drift off. you continued to rub his back and press soft kisses to his head, whispering sweet nothings into the quiet room.
“you’re my everything,” you said softly. “my home, my safe place.”
the rain continued to fall outside as you held him close, your love for him pouring out in every touch, every whispered word. sunghoon, for the first time in weeks, felt his doubts quiet, replaced by the steady beat of your heart beneath his ear.
as he fell asleep in your arms, he realized that maybe he didn’t need to be perfect. maybe just being himself was all you ever wanted.
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channiesbakery · 18 hours ago
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yapper —
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prompt / request — "are you awake yet?" "no." "oh, okay sorry."
pairing — reader + boyfriend!dino
word count — 561
genre — fluff
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you and chan have a nightly routine that you liked to follow. you’d get ready for bed, freshening up and changing into comfy clothes before crawling into bed together.
you’d both have your nightly tik tok scroll— well, you’d scroll on your phone while chan watched along with you, questioning you about a current trend every few videos.
“what do you mean peeling an orange is a sign of love?” he questions when he sees the videos of people asking their significant others to peel oranges for them.
you explain the trend for him before he somewhat seems to understand. “I’d peel a hundred oranges for you,” chan says, kissing the top of your head before he’s silent for a moment, seemingly deep in thought.
“you okay?” you turn back to face him. “i wonder if my hyungs would peel an orange for me…” he mumbled mostly to himself.
it’s not long before you end up on seventeen tik tok, seeing all the edits and fancams.
“aw look at kwannie,” you show him the cute fancam. “why are you, my girlfriend, watching a seungkwan fancam and not one of your boyfriend?” chan scoffs before grabbing your phone to look for fancams of himself, making sure to give all of them likes.
after ending up on a weird side of tik tok, you decide that’s enough social media for the night, shutting off your phone and turning off all the lights.
chan’s chest is pressed against your back, his arm loosely around your waist as he rests his chin on the top of your head.
you always knew your boyfriend was a bit of a yapper, but his need for conversation just seemed to increase every time you’re about to fall asleep.
“do you think i should create a new character for the next gose episode?” he asks. ���baby, i think you have more than enough alter egos.” you tell him, shutting your eyes and trying to fall asleep.
but the silence doesn’t last long before he’s starting another topic.
“would you love me if i was a worm– i could probably do the worm so much better if i was actually a worm.”
“that new cafe just opened in the city, we should go this weekend. i heard their matcha lattes are amazing.”
“do you think i should start a new hobby? maybe knitting… shua has all his crafty hobbies, maybe knitting could be mine.”
“actually… it seems like it takes too much patience and what if i stab my eye…”
“do you ever wonder why people count sheep and not other animals? like why not count chickens?”
you only mumble short responses to him as he switches topics nearly every other sentence.
he finally goes silent and you’re just about to finally drift off to sleep when chan speaks up once again. “are you still awake?” he whispers.
“no,” you grumble tiredly. “oh okay,” he replies and you think he’s finally going to go to sleep until you hear his soft voice again.
“hey baby?” he says softly and you just hum in response. “i love you,” chan mumbles against your hair.
“i love you too channie, but if you don’t stop yapping I’m kicking you out of bed and you’re sleeping on the couch.” you threaten.
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tpup · 2 days ago
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once again showing the girls that im a pretty toy
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novaliane-san · 1 day ago
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This is so healing to read. After all these years, we still read and hear such mean comments against sns. I lost count of how many times we have been called delusionals yaoi obsessed fangirls or simpletons that only want to push the "gay" label onto every show.
I didn't understand why it hurt me so much.
Now I know. Is because of all the things op said in this beautiful post.
Sasuke and Naruto's relationship has been pure and intense love and devotion since the beginning. And seeing it just as buddies being buddies, or friends, or even bros is insulting. Watching Sasuke and Naruto interacting has always been something so intimate, so raw, so intense, so powerful, and so moving because it came out of love from both of them. Sasuke loves Naruto, and Naruto loves Sasuke. Kishimoto himself has said it many times before: is a story about their bonds and love for each other. He always adds the "brotherly kind of love" part, but I think his work is a little bit more honest than kishimoto is allowed to be.
Op did a marvellous job putting all of this into words, and i will keep this close to my heart because this is so true.
What do you think of this?
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I was oddly disappointed when I came across this.
I honestly feel sorry for anyone who couldn't see what this story was all about. They missed out on so much, they missed out on emotions and feelings that could have been their unraveling, a catharsis, something that could have led to a more accepting heart, a more sensitive mind, a sharper intuition, a keener emotional intellect.
This story is about Naruto and Sasuke and their bond. A bond that changes their current corrupt and chaotic shinobi world for the better. That they were fated and are soulmates is not a SNS headcanon, it is an intricate part of their dynamic, their portrayal. It's literally canon. They are supposed to be yin and yang, they are fire and wind, sky and earth, they are light and darkness, sun and moon, they make each other stronger emotionally and physically, they are the main act. This is all literally text.
The point of this story is that true love transcends all constructs made by humans. True love is a greater motivator than hate and revenge. True love is the solution that will bring the world together, that will finally break the cycle of revenge and hatred and bring about peace. Even if this concept has its own problems, the point is, that's what Kishi wanted to portray, at least till chapter 699.
What would even be the point of this story if Sasuke was shown to not love Naruto? Like apart from all the symbolic and literary elements, the larger narrative itself will be cancelled out if Kishi meant to show only Naruto as obsessed with Sasuke, no?
So why do these fans think this way? Denying the narrative, denying the story, denying the visual imagery, denying the characterisation of the hero and the anti hero, denying the major themes that make this manga, denying the whole point of this manga?
Projection and/or they are almost incurably dumb.
Like I don't know how many lies they have had to tell themselves to believe in their wacky theories. Their sense of comprehension is worse than a tween's. And given that a lot of them are adults, it is so embarrassing for them. Like if I were in their shoes, I would go back to school. I would burn all my degrees in the society bonfire. I would spend all my savings to relearn about the world.
Like if 700 exclusive freaking chapters of Sasuke and Naruto's bond weren't enough for them to get this story, they should maybe burn all their books. Apologies, I doubt they read. My bad.
One really doesn't need to be a media expert to get that they love each other. All they have to do is to be open minded and read the story for the story itself. Literally, one doesn't have to put any extra effort. Leave the extra effort to the bloggers and analysts who write about the literary, socio-political, narrative and visual influences and such. Just do your part. Just be the reader. Follow the story for the story's sake. That. Is. All.
But you know...fans will be fans. They find a character hot, so they would project, self insert, be dumb, deny, whine and cry, fight uselessly, embarrass themselves on public platforms, reveal themselves to be raging idiots of the first degree, etc.
Anyway.
Thesis statement of this answer : Naruto loves Sasuke and is surely obsessed with him because - Sasuke inspires it in him. Sasuke is equally obsessed with Naruto, and one would think it is subtle and it certainly is as compared to loud Naruto, but objectively, not subtle AT ALL.
At. All.
Sasuke is so in love with Naruto, is so damn crazy about this funny, cute, earnest, raw and determined little urchin, that his brain practically turns to mush when he sees him.
You know why Sasuke wanted to kill Naruto in Shippuden? He keeps saying that Naruto is his closest friend, his one and only.....friend, which is why he needs to kill him. Why?
Because Sasuke is so in love with this boy, that he self-sabotages his goals when it comes to Naruto. It has been a damn pattern with him from DAY ONE.
Naruto is Sasuke's WEAKNESS.
Sasuke trains so hard, resolves to accomplish his goals so determinedly, promises himself to be strong, but when it comes to Naruto, all of it goes right down the drain. And it is a BIG problem for Sasuke. A practical problem. Because how is he gonna accomplish his goals if Naruto keeps coming in his way, distracting him, making Sasuke's knees weak, his heart thump, his eyes tangle with Naruto's gaze, his mind completely focused on Naruto's every move?
Team seven formed. Naruto and Sasuke hadn't even spent much time together exclusively. Naruto had just been an ass to Sasuke, kissing him in public and embarrassing him (Why didn't you beat him up Sasuke? You clearly said you would lol) then tying him up, gagging him and impersonating him, but what does Sasuke do when he sees a perennially hungry Naruto? This.
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Even though he very well knew that he would be disqualified and wouldn't be allowed to train as a shinobi which is required for him to get stronger so he could one day, kill Itachi.
#self-sabotage
Sasuke goes on his first important mission with the team, and ends up protecting Naruto from the bad guys like a damn romantic hero on the way to land of waves country, tries to match his pace with Naruto while blushing, worrying for him, training with him at all hours of the night while everyone else including Sakura is resting, and he is having fun at it too, asking him for help and not Sakura who is 'supposed' to have better chakra control (only because she has a very small amount of chakra as compared to Sasuke and Naruto), and then out of nowhere, freaking sacrificing his life for him. He really was totally prepared to die for this boy at age 12. For love.
#self-sabotage
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His "Body moved on its own."
Naruto couldn't believe his eyes. Naruto was still oblivious as to how Sasuke felt for him before this point so he was flabbergasted at Sasuke's sacrifice. But Sasuke can't actually tell him he loves him, that would be so embarrassing for him. Lol. Hence the awkwardness later.
But Naruto now knows Sasuke really cared for him. He valued him. And so what happens?
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Sasuke inspired this in him. It didn't come out of oblivion. That's not how it works.
Then comes the forest of death arc. And we see how much Sasuke and Naruto work in close partnership, how much they know each other, how their instincts are so attuned to the other, especially Sasuke. Sasuke is certainly an observant person but his knowledge of Naruto is just too accurate. Not just his appearance (and why wouldn't it? Just see how much Sasuke stares at Naruto throughout, because it's too difficult for him to escape that 'gaze' of his lol) but his mannerisms, his insecurities and weaknesses.
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His laser sharp focus on Naruto is so evident. And it's not only that, he goes OUT of his way to protect Naruto.
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These fans should really ask themselves if this was really needed. Naruto was being flung around by a transformed Gaara left and right before this. And Sasuke was already injured and completely out of juice. Naruto would have gotten bruised at most here. Why would Sasuke go so out of his way to cushion his fall? And why would Kishi make Pakkun point it out too? Sasuke doesn't do this type of thing for ANYONE else. Absolutely no one. So what impression does it make? How exactly do these fans read this scene? Or they just conveniently ignore whatever doesn't satisfy their agenda? That's how denial works lol.
Sasuke retrieval arc. Not only is it remarkable that the entire arc is about Naruto trying to protect Sasuke, to bring him back so that his life isn't jeopardized at the hands of Oro, but just the sheer amount of space and footage Kishi gives to vote 1. Eight freaking chapters. A world famous manga where every single panel counts, eight chapters were devoted by Kishi to make sure that their bond, the intensity of that bond, their intimacy comes out clearly. Why? Is Kishi dumb? Like these fans are? No. He wanted to make sure that absolutely no stone was left unturned for the reader to understand what their bond is really about and how freaking intense it is. The whole point why Naruto simply couldn't digest the fact that Sasuke would actually be trying to kill him, was because Sasuke, at every point, SHOWED Naruto how important he was to him.
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Naruto simply couldn't compute that Sasuke would do this to him. And this is exactly why Naruto was pushed to say - Can you kill me calmly, Sasuke? in a big ass panel. So much build up man. Like goddamn. Kishi put so damn much emphasis on it because of this. Why?
Because it was contradictory behaviour. Naruto couldn't believe Sasuke would even consider killing him because of the kind of insane lengths he went to, to protect Naruto. Even at the cost of his own ambition and freaking life. Why would Sasuke do it for him? Why would Sasuke jeopardize everything that is important to him, killing Itachi and restoring his clan's honour ie, for someone he doesn't care about? Does this look one sided?
I mean if even after all this, one feels so convinced that Sasuke doesn't care about Naruto in this manga, maybe go back to reading Archie? lol.
And even after the fight, the crazy power ups, what with breaking out hidden strengths with Sharingan evolution and kyuubi chakra and kyuubi cloak and curse mark transformation, they fight and fight, their faces incredibly pained at hurting each other like this, and Sasuke manages to overpower Naruto with SO MUCH effort........all for this.
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Sasuke hovering over an unconscious Naruto. This scene has so much tenderness, so much emotion, so many panels were drawn to highlight this emotion. The clouds finally breaking through to give way to a beam of light that centres on Naruto's face and then gently fades away, while Sasuke is standing atop Naruto, looking down, at his face as he lies there unconscious and injured at the hands of Sasuke. As rain patters down on Sasuke's face, he says with such anguish and emotion - Naruto, I.....
But then dramatically falls down on his knees as the aftereffects of his curse mark make themselves known and ends up right over Naruto's face, looking at his closed eyes with so much pain and longing.
What was that about? Is Kishi stupid? Are all his editors stupid? What about the publication house? So these fans are the only smart ones in the universe? That must be it. Lol.
Think about it.
Sasuke was planning to kill his closest friend at Itachi's suggestion because that would have given him access to Mangekyou Sharingan and he would have come much closer in strength to Itachi, right? Naruto was completely disabled, right at Sasuke's mercy. Sasuke had the PERFECT opening. Sasuke was one second away from gaining that power. Something he battled hard for. Like hard hard. But what did he eventually decide? He decided not to.
Why? Do fans not see the contradiction in Sasuke's behaviour? Why would Sasuke have abandoned the perfect opportunity of gaining the power required to kill Itachi, someone he was absolutely ITCHING to kill, in favor of training with Oro, a man he despises, a man he very well knows has evil intentions towards Sasuke, for THREE fucking years when he could have skipped all of that here by killing Naruto in a matter of seconds??
Why?
Because he loves Naruto. Sasuke decided if being powerful enough to kill Itachi meant that he would need to kill his most precious, his usuratonkachi, then he would rather come up with his own way to become stronger. Even if it took him waaaay more time and effort, even if he could taste the desire to kill his brother on his tongue like blood, even if it meant giving up his body to someone like Oro, he would do it if it meant Naruto would still keep living.
#self-sabotage
During the reunion, he tells Naruto that he would give his body to Oro over and over if it meant he would be able to kill Itachi. So all of THAT is acceptable to Sasuke but not killing Naruto. Sasuke is not Itachi. Sasuke is his own person, and he would make his decisions based on his feelings, he will not pander to his brother. Because he is him and he loves Naruto.
But that didn't stop him from being entirely devastated at being separated from Naruto. Crushed. Heartbroken. As he is shown having left Konoha and entering the darkness, his face, paralleled with Naruto's own as he is carried away by Kakashi, shows his true feelings about separating from his most precious person. Someone with whom he feels like family.
During their reunion, Naruto asks Sasuke why he left him alive? Why he didn't kill him off? Naruto knew Sasuke had the best opportunity to do it. But he didn't do it. Naruto knew very well that Sasuke didn't kill him for the same reason he protected Naruto all those other times. Because Sasuke really cared for him, he valued Naruto.
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Sasuke deflects. He tells him he doesn't need to explain it to him. Naruto looks skeptical. Then he says he left him alive on a whim. And of course Naruto doesn't believe him. Naruto knows Sasuke is lying. Is Sasuke a person who would do things on a Whim? Is that how he is characterized in the manga? What other thing did he do on a whim? Sasuke says that even Oro was not powerful enough to take on Itachi, let alone himself. He could have made things so much easier for himself if he had killed Naruto and gotten MS, but no. If Naruto didn't mean so much to him, what was stopping him to kill Naruto? Even when the stakes were so damn high?
When Naruto asks him why he let him live during the reunion, Sasuke is actually struggling to answer him. He feels vulnerable. Look at his face when he says that emotions weaken a person, causes confusion. He knows this from experience. Because he couldn't kill Naruto. He again sabotaged his own objective, like always, because he just cannot bear to have Naruto hurt. He just cannot. Someone who couldn't even let Naruto be freaking bruised by a tree trunk, who cannot even let Naruto go hungry for a mere few hours even at the cost of his own freaking disqualification, can he kill Naruto so easily? Heh. The narrative is doing its work. Sasuke is a simp for Naruto man. Even if Sasuke isn't able to say what he feels due to self preservation and his own tsundereness, the reader knows the truth. How? Because we aren't blind or stupid. We know how to read. We enjoy stories and storytelling.
The crux of it all was that Sasuke wasn't able to kill Naruto even though it would have had been really really advantageous for him in reaching his goal. But. At what cost? By killing Naruto? No way in hell. Heh.
Honestly, Sasuke says everything himself. No one has to look anywhere else. He knows Naruto is his weakness. He simply cannot help himself when it comes to Naruto. That's why he says he needs to cut him off in vote 2. As long as Naruto is alive, and keeps getting in Sasuke's way, Sasuke would never be able to help himself. Everytime Naruto comes along, Sasuke's objectives and goals take a backseat, in fact, go right out the window. Sasuke is defined by love, led by love, motivated by it, inspired by it. Itachi taught him how to hate. But Naruto was the one who caught his nerve, who reached his heart, who made him warm and fuzzy, who taught him to love, to accept love, to let himself be loved. By Naruto.
Sasuke says he will be the darkness, and live on by eating the ashes. He needs to be the darkness to be the true hokage, that's his goal. But how can he be the darkness if Naruto, the light incarnate, fills him with the light of his love? With his warmth and care and affection?
Sasuke's actions towards Naruto are often contradictory. During the reunion, Naruto is urged by Kurama to draw on his power, but Naruto resists and then Sasuke (who just couldn't stop staring at him throughfuckingout) enters his mind space and makes the kyuubi retreat. Why should it matter to him? Why should he even feel the need to be there? He already knows that Naruto has a special power. So he glided down like an angel, hugged Naruto (which he really really didn't need to do), whispered in his ears (why are you here Naruto when you could be out there training huh? huh?), and then was so damn focused on him that Yamato found the opening to attack Sasuke even though Sasuke is a person thoroughly anal with being on guard all the time?
#self-sabotage
And I only mention this because Sasuke's character is already established as someone who is not a touchy feely guy. When a character does something out of character, it registers itself in the reader's mind. You simply cannot deny it. Kishi put so much effort in writing and drawing him, do these fans think all this comes out of oblivion? No thought, no idea behind it? So if Sasuke is made to do something out of character, there must be some reason for it, no? Except when it comes to Naruto, it is in character for Sasuke to do something he doesn't rationally intend to. Because love is not rational.
Sasuke was already reminded by Sai of Naruto. Sasuke is told that Naruto is still looking for him. And then Sai proceeds to disparage Naruto, and how does Sasuke react? He genjutsues his ass. Lol. Don't you think it is a disproportionate action for Sasuke to do this if he didn't care about Naruto?
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Like when fans are used to big actions, big gestures and big reactions, which are typical of shounen, they often miss out on more subtle actions and reactions. But just because they don't see them doesn't mean they aren't there. I am sorry (not) but SNS fans cannot be blamed for other fans' ignorance and incompetence at media comprehension.
This might be subtle by shounen standards but it's not that subtle. These fans would certainly benefit from watching a wider variety of media. Learning more about how narrative and visual language works. If they can't see that Naruto and Shippuden are a love story, it's a problem, for them. Because what a waste of their time and energy.
Sasuke looks at the Great Naruto bridge and smiles fondly. Why do you think Kishi put this panel here? Why was it needed? What purpose does it serve? Every panel counts right? When Sasuke is told of Naruto defeating Pein, he smiles like he is proud of Naruto. Why? What was even the need to do that? If Kishi means to tell the audience that Sasuke wants to kill Naruto because he hates him or doesn't care, why the hell would he put these panels there so strategically that give exactly the opposite impression to the viewer, and the impression that they give is completely consistent with how Sasuke acts with him in part one? I seriously cannot fathom the amounts of denial these fans must need in order to simply erase and sweep these multiple moments, scenes and dialogues under the rug.
What is even the point of reading this manga? And what exactly makes them so righteous about it too that they have the audacity of criticising SNS fandom for shipping the boys? Who told them they could do it? Who the hell are these people to say shit like this? Who told them they had the qualification? Because the comprehension that they show indicates they should still be reading nursery rhymes. Like learn how narrative works, learn how imagery works, learn how a scene works, learn how mise en scene works, learn what an arc is, learn how characterization works, learn how literary tools and tricks work and THEN talk about it if you are so sure. But hell, if they actually cared to learn all that, they wouldn't be saying this shit. Hell, don't do any of it, just be honest with yourself. That is enough. But no. They are way too precious for that. Learning is beneath them. Lol.
Ignorance breeds more ignorance.
Sasuke saves Naruto during the war arc over and over again, even when it wasn't needed or doing it with so many extra measures, they were unnecessary, so much so that even Naruto is taken aback by it. Why? What impression does it give to the reader? Isn't it reminiscent of part one, when Sasuke saved Naruto from the evil tree trunk? Because he is just so damn protective of his precious boyfriend, his one and only........friend. Lol. This is how narrative works man, psychological and emotional manipulation. That's what storytelling is all about, and talented writers/storytellers/creators understand the concept of perception very well. Perception of text, visuals and sound effects.
Think of the story as a patchwork rug that is patched with complementary coloured pieces of fabric stitched with connecting threads that bring out the brilliance of the rug. An audio-visual story or a film works the same way, where the visuals/scenes are thoughtfully edited and joined together with strategically placed complementary visual effects, text and sound effects to bring out the messaging and impact that the storyteller wants to convey to the reader. The talented a writer/creator is, the smoother and believable the narrative is, the more perceptive he is, the more his intent comes out and makes itself known to the reader, the greater its impact on the reader.
Kishi wrote them as the main act. That is the truth. Everything is intentional.
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During vote 2, Sasuke is so damn emotional fighting with Naruto. He climbs on his lap and punches him senseless, and Naruto takes it. It's obviously a parallel to vote one when Naruto climbs on Sasuke's lap and punches him senseless and Sasuke takes it. Does this look like a normal fight? Where else do players fight like this in the manga? Any other example?
No.
It's an emotional fight. They are not fighting for political reasons or to prove a point. The fight is emotional. Just like vote 1. Both are nerve wracking. Emotional overload. Mind short circuits. Lol. Here are two characters who are experiencing them and I can't even read about it without curling on my bed and holding my torso tight because it's just too much man. And I am not easily affected. I have seen all sorts of melodrama and I thought I was immune. Fortified. But damn Kishimoto, he just wrecked me. Sigh.
This sort of reaction doesn't come out of oblivion. Fans who say shit like the one in this ask, have no idea how much effort and thought and emotion it takes to write something like this.
Sasuke didn't show this type of emotion even when he was battling Itachi. He was composed and in control. But with Naruto, he loses it. Why? Because he is doing something he doesn't want to. Not in the heart of his hearts.
Killing Naruto is a requirement for him because for him, Naruto has become an emotional liability. He loves Naruto despite his better judgment. He loses all perspective when he is with Naruto. No matter how strong his convictions are, Naruto makes his heart flutter. His resolve weakens. That is why he left Konoha in the first place. He says to Naruto - Did I get stronger playing around with you?
Hatred towards Itachi was his motivation to get strong enough to kill him. But if Naruto kept making him fall in love more and more, how would he kill Itachi?
The whole reason Orochimaru separated them was because Naruto was changing Sasuke, meaning, he was healing Sasuke.
Naruto and only Naruto, had the power to do that. If Sasuke had completely given over to his feelings for Naruto, no way he would have been able to carry on his revenge plans. A heart filled with love cannot hate. Unless that love is taken away forcefully, then the love transforms into hate.
Naruto tells him he simply won't let him be alone. Naruto understands why Sasuke wanted to kill him. To be alone. To be devoid of love. Love would have been a hindrance to his goals. But it would have meant unending loneliness for Sasuke. Darkness. Pain. Misery.
And Naruto wouldn't have it. No way siree bob. Not on his watch. Naruto loves Sasuke. Beyond comprehension. Just like Sasuke loves Naruto. He simply WON'T let Sasuke be alone because Naruto understands what it means to be lonely. That was the point of their intersection in the first place. Naruto won't let Sasuke be alone because he cares for Sasuke's well being. If Naruto is obsessively in love with Sasuke, and he IS, and proudly too, it's because Sasuke simply won't be swayed with anything less. Naruto had to have immense amounts of love for Sasuke to counter the immense hate in Sasuke for the world. If you want to call it obsession, fine. But the more appropriate term is - Devotion. Something that Kishimoto himself uses when he makes Yashamaru explain love to Gaara. It's called context building.
Sakura? Can she even compare? With Naruto? Bah. She was prepared to kill him in kage arc when Naruto was preparing to lay down his life for him shinjuu style.
She made every confession to Sasuke about herself. Naruto made it about Sasuke. If it weren't the case, Sasuke wouldn't have listened to him in the kage arc. Sasuke was bent on killing Sakura and Kakashi, drunk on power and grief, but he calms down when Naruto confesses to him. And accepts Naruto's proposal. Are these fans telling me Sasuke is shallow and stupid enough to fall for it if he didn't care? Will they not give Sasuke the agency to make the right decision for himself? What he wants to do? Will these fans take away from his intelligence by saying shit that goes against his characterisation and arc development? So Kishi is wrong and these fans are right about him? Lol. The levels of delusions.
When Naruto tells Sasuke that he hurts when Sasuke does, that he hurts so much, he cannot stand it, look at Sasuke. Why would he be so taken aback? Why? Why is he so affected if he didn't care for Naruto? When Sasuke asks him why he goes to such lengths to save Sasuke, Naruto tries to distract him from it and Sasuke gets triggered. Is Sasuke really a person who would get triggered like this if he didn't feel for Naruto? Sasuke asks Naruto with such delicacy and hesitance - But what does friend mean to you? Why does he want to know? How does it matter to him if he didn't care?
Why would Kishi write this stuff in this conclusive chapter? Is it meaningless? Does it not say anything about Sasuke's character? Like I know people twist it and twist it some more, but really, the simplest explanation is always the right one. It might not be as direct, but if you really gather all the data and compute it without prejudice, you can and definitely will see it for yourself. Storytelling can be layered you know. Why be as bad as those dudebros? Even dudebros call him Susgay. Because even if they cannot comprehend much more than that, they can feel it. Why? Because that's how Kishi wrote him. That's how storytelling works.
Dang, when Naruto assures him of his love for Sasuke and his trust in him, Sasuke cries. Fucking cries man. Is Sasuke a person who would emote meaninglessly? The only other person who affects him enough to make him cry is Itachi. Are these fans saying that Itachi meant nothing to Sasuke?
Notice how at peace he looks when he says - I have lost..
Why should he feel at peace? Why? Because he finally accepts love. He is convinced of it. Naruto reminded him of his bonds with his family, something he always wanted, something he missed deeply when they had gone. But now, he can let himself feel it again.
Kishi had already thought of this ending back in 2009, or even before. Not a retcon. Regardless, if these fans had any sense, they could tell it from the story itself.
In conclusively significant chapter 698, in Sasuke's monologue, it is finally revealed that Sasuke, after all that he did to and with Naruto, had always had an eye on Naruto. He had had always felt weak for him. He felt warm and fuzzy. He resonated with Naruto's loneliness. Every little thing that he did for Naruto, all his sacrifices even when the audience couldn't really find commensurate with their dynamic back then in part one, were revealed to be Sasuke's acts of love for Naruto. Because this boy had been loving him since then, since they were eight years old, even when Naruto had no clue. He didn't ask for anything back, nothing in return, he just LOVED. As he knew how to. Not with big declarations of love and guilting the other party, like Sakura or Hinata for Naruto, but with actions and genuine heartfelt emotions. Because that's what unconditional, genuine, devotional, true love is all about. Isn't it? Naruto's zeal, spirit and desire to connect made him think about his bonds with his family, the centre of his emotional core. And it grew more and more as they trained together and fought together being part of the same team. Naruto had reached the core of his heart when Naruto was not even aware of it. Naruto's own acts of love came much later. But Sasuke's were just there, even when the audience couldn't clock it out. This is how Kishi wrote Sasuke. THIS is Sasuke's character. His stans think they really get Sasuke, think he should be a single man and get rid of annoying Naruto. They DON'T get him AT ALL. Sasuke is about love, that he had been giving Naruto unconditionally all this time. Without asking for any thing in return. Because that's who Sasuke is, because that's how strong and selfless his character is. Because he is a fucking legend of a person. He learnt something at age 8 that takes people a lifetime to learn, despite all the odds he faced. Despite Itachi's every attempt at filling him with hate, Sasuke knew how to love. Sasuke IS LOVE.
If these fans don't wanna see it, it's one thing. But don't come for the SNS fandom. This story is a love story. About them. There are more than a dozen literary romantic references, drawn from Asian media and symbology, very evident to people who know about it already. So all of that is wrong and these fans are right who can't even fucking read right? Do I give them a badge of honour? Yep, bravo. Lol.
I have done a lot of cringey shit in my life, but fortunately for me, there's no evidence left except in my own memories. Sad thing is these fans will potentially grow up one day and see it all differently. And mark my words, they will cringely cringe at their cringeworthy behaviour and takes. Which is all DOCUMENTED for everyone to see. Lol. Nothing much they can do about it. But they can always learn. To be better.
Conclusion -
If Naruto is, as they say, obsessed with Sasuke, it's because he learnt from the best of the best. Sasuke. 😏
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kiddotarot · 2 days ago
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What kind of love meant to find you in this life ?
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Pile 1. Pile 2. Pile 3.
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( we are all meant to find some kind of love in our life but love is not always not the same for everyone . Its always a way we learn something in our life and go for the ultimate self . Remember you are here to learn and grow so don't afraid to love someone and yourself)
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PILE 1.
The love which is meant to find you is frivolity and cunning but not immature. It is something unexpected and feels like imposter To you in this life. Actually you know it from the deep down from your heart it makes you feel like a child but that familiarity is old. It may be an old love from past life or a connection which comes back in your life and be an endgame for you . But it has a level of maturity connected to your soul which has already passed childhood and become mature . you going to recognize it by your heart and soul but its still make you feel new adventurous something like you behave like a child when “you are comfortable with a person and they know you so take it easy the not going to judge you be fearless “. The practicality doesn't matter in this love. There is no leadership Role more like two innocent children totally in love and feeling like the high school sweetheart . It's going to be a total endgame for you. I see major transformation and starting a totally new life after leaving old once behind. But for now you need to focus on your current task and master it and you are not enjoying you work or job which is important to you to find or master your hobbies or life lessons which you need to learn and understand.
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PILE 2.
The love which you are meant to find in this life can be a way to release your karmic or you are here to learn something in this lifetime through this love. Love can be a mystery for which makes you feel confused and there is not a good condition of feminine energy in this connection that may be less nurturing or trust. You are advised here to not become superstitious here and there is also a lack of planning or a figure which takes control of an unconventional type of love. But the tower reserved here tells me that you are going to learn freedom of body , emotionally and physically or in this life through this love with great cost. The devil in the last shows may be you understand that you are stuck in a love which is totally based on materialism or lust and now it's a sensational separation from understanding. i feel maybe you are in this relationship now or currently going through same situation it's a sign for you to understand that you need to leave things or relationship, connection behind who's don't have love or respect for you.
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PILE 3.
The love which is meant for you in this lifetime comes after a hard time emotionally or mentally and you now are in great great grief and after that you meet the love of your life it's a new relationship or proposal for you a new Connection. And the type of love in which you are going to build your own world, you literally are going to manifest your new life with it may be marriage or a new beginning. The connection which means to find you or the love which is destined for you is going to develop a creativity inside you . Love is going to be a solid rock for you, you are going to become wise and very practical. Maybe you become more mature after it. This love connection is very inspiring. Maybe you pursue your studies or something which you want to do in your life and you start to turn your vision into reality. It's also something related to manifestation. You may try to manifest it now … go check you list. For now I see you are stuck because your wishes are not coming true or you are stuck somewhere in your life or having health problems currently because universe is testing you don't worry.
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suiana · 4 hours ago
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fellas, have you ever wondered if a man could ever be as adorable and cute as a baby kitten? well now you can experience and love on in real life! suiana presents to you innocent! yandere and smitten reader ❤️
your very own innocent boy who doesn't even know what NNN or OF means. his instagram feed is full of baking and and clothing ideas, he goes out to help stray animals, and he goes on daily walks to the park to reconnect with nature. he has no idea what a skibidi toilet is, brain completely nourished with the books he borrows from the library. yeah, this guy smells like bread and cookies too btw, he does lots of baking. and cooking. have i mentioned he's completely skilled in the kitchen? yeah, he is.
by some stroke of luck, you meet him one day and... look, he's just the cutest thing ever! i mean, he's fashionable, smells good, and was even defending a stray dog from being bullied by some kids. so you ask him out on a date, but the second you ask him the question you swear you could just die on the spot... because tell me why his entire face is red and he's genuinely so happy??? all smiley faced and blushing like a tomato???
oh it's his first time getting asked out and he's flustered??? he's never been approached by anyone before??? he thinks you're really attractive and he would like to go out on a date too??? oh my god guys, he's even asking if you're comfortable with him rambling like this and not trying to get too close without your consent😭
anyway the two of you go out on a date and you think you just might marry him on the spot with how much of a gentleman he's being??? INSISTING on paying for your meal, respecting your distance and being genuinely curious about you on a deeper level. no mention of hooking up, being casual fwb or anything like that. he's... actually looking for a serious relationship unlike your previous partners? holy shit? so you asked him his thoughts on cheating and some other stuff...
"so what are your thoughts on cheating?"
"cheating?"
"yeah, like when you get with someone else when you're dating."
"isn't that illegal?"
HELLO??? he thinks cheating is ILLEGAL??? you had to spend the rest of your date trying not to cry or hug him because he ended up finding out some devastating news.
"yes... cheating is illegal unfortunately."
"I don't know why. it should be illegal, that is a very bad thing to do 😦 do people actually cheat? really? no way."
UGRHGRGR you two end up dating and he's the sweetest guy you've been with. cute date nights, reassurance that you're perfect and enough, handmade gifts and deep talks into the night that deepen your bond together... the only problem is just that maybe he's a little too sweet.
he's constantly buying you gifts, telling you how much he appreciates you and just... being the perfect boyfriend? the perfect clingy boyfriend.
at first you found it cute. but...
why is he so in love with you? why is he so nice? you don't know what to do with a man as sweet as him and can only give into his seemingly harmful actions. you used to think that he had an ulterior motive but... you don't know whether you're being deceived or not. why would you? he's not being manipulative. how could he ever be manipulative? he's just a sweet and nice green flag!
asking you to always be with him? that's just a romantic thing everyone else says. chasing away any people who shows the slightest bit of interest, even if it's not confirmed to be romantic? what kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn't do that? asking for your location if you ever try to go out without him? silly lover, why would you worry him like that?
no no, he's not being possessive. okay, maybe he is. it's just a tiny bit though! surely you're fine with that. after all, he's still treating you like the royalty that you are. he should be allowed some grace for his unwillingness to share.
you're not sure whether or not he's truly innocent or not. was he even innocent to begin with? maybe, maybe not. perhaps it was all just an act...
but you shouldn't think that. why would you think badly of your boyfriend who's only ever been sweet to you? even during fights, he doesn't raise his voice and actively listens to you, trying to resolve the issue. he could never want to hurt you.
after all, he's your innocent boyfriend that you're smitten with, right?
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