#it’s awful sometimes but it’s wonderful the rest of the time
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wildsaltair · 2 months ago
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this might be too personal of a question so please disregard if it is!! but i’ve been recently thinking of making a career change and going back to teaching (it was something i always wanted to do, but i got sidetracked towards another job in the meantime) and i saw in one of your tags that you’re an english teacher! and seeing as how i would look to go into that field / subject (and the fact that i also enjoy analyzing russell crowe’s films and microexpressions☺️) i wanted to see if you would share your opinions about it? do you enjoy it / would you recommend to others? and do you still feel fulfilled and able to enjoy your interests in tandem with it (given this blog i sure hope so!). anyways, just really happy i came acroos your blog and when i saw that tag too, i figured why not ask!
Oh my goodness hi, friend!! Thank you so much for sending this — I’m so glad you reached out 😊 I’ll be glad to answer anything you want to know! I actually talk about my job very rarely on here (I also obsess over analyzing all Russell’s microexpressions; it’s like a madness with me), so thank you for asking :)
(gonna add a page break here because I wrote WAY more than I thought I was going to)
Yes, I love a lot of aspects of teaching!! I’ve only been doing it for a few years, but I absolutely love working with students and meeting them where they are. Getting to know their interests, inspiring them to try new things, and helping them feel confident about hard skills (like writing paragraphs) is so fulfilling. I also love the organizational / planning aspect of teaching, as well as the content I get to teach. Reading and writing are my big hobbies :)
I also love getting to be in a leadership position because that’s very natural for me, and I enjoy getting to be the one who makes decisions about curriculum, pacing, and activities. I’ve gotten my curriculum down pretty well these days, so I’m able to enjoy teaching familiar activities instead of being worried about what I’m going to teach tomorrow haha :D
Finally, I love that every day in the classroom is a new challenge. No two days are alike. Yes, you have all kinds of problems to solve (and there are some absolutely insane things that happen in high school, I’m telling you), but you will certainly never be bored :D Every student is unique, and every day is a chance to start over fresh with new ideas. It’s probably the most dynamic, challenging, fast-paced jobs in the world.
I have to admit though, there are a lot of things that make teaching really difficult and discouraging. Classroom management (especially in a public high school) can be so challenging, especially when you have a lot of students with behavior issues or attitude problems. There are a lot of days where I just don’t want to go back to work because I feel like I haven’t accomplished anything and that I’m wasting my time trying to teach things that don’t matter. But what I’ve learned in that is that teaching English is fairly marginal: it’s the relationships that make teaching worth it.
Also, balancing the difficulties of the state / county’s expectations is A LOT. Professional development, teaching standards, licensure requirements, etc. the list just goes on and on. I always have clear plans for what I want to do with my classes, but I have to plan around what my administrators and county curricula require of me :/
Also, seeing students’ awful home lives is heartbreaking for me and adds a lot of stress. Seeing students struggle with addiction, abuse, suicide, violence, anxiety, bullying, depression, etc. etc. is the hardest thing to cope with. You get so attached to your students because you’re with them every day trying to help them think through their work, and when you get glimpses into the terrible things they have to deal with outside of school, it’s really hard. It’s doubly hard because there’s only so much you can do — you can encourage them and be their mentor and friend, but you can’t fix their problems for them.
So to actually answer your questions 😄 teaching is very fulfilling in a lot of areas, but you have to be ready for all the difficulties. I’d recommend teaching to anyone who is willing to be patient, kind, and engaging with their students, because teachers are in a unique position to impact so many lives, and a lot of them make students’ lives miserable because they’re uncaring, harsh, or needlessly cruel. (But I know you wouldn’t be thinking about going into teaching unless you were already willing to do that!!)
I think teaching is a true calling, and if you feel called to it, you should look into it! Depending on what state you live in, you could always try a TA or substitute position to get a feel for the classroom experience, then make your decision from there. There’s genuinely no formal education that can prepare you for teaching — it’s a trial by fire every single day, and you just have to experience it to know if it’s for you.
Finally, yes, I find time to balance my personal life with my teaching job! I read several books a month, take care of my dog, keep my cactus alive, visit friends on the weekends, and obsess over Russell Crowe / his characters every day (as everyone knows hehehe). Granted, I’ve never been in a romantic relationship during my teaching career (which I think could be a challenge), but I have lots of teacher friends who manage that. I think you’ll find time for whatever you’re willing to make time for.
I hope this answers your questions!! Sorry for the long post, but I love talking about my job haha. I don’t know if it’s going to be a lifelong career for me (I like to try new things constantly, so I may switch to a new career eventually), but right now I do love teaching, even with all its challenges and frustrations. If you ever have any more questions or want to chat about teaching, I’d love to!! I would also love to chat about Russell Crowe’s microexpressions anytime you’re in the mood for that haha. Thank you for dropping in, and I wish you the best with whatever you choose!!!
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napping-sapphic · 10 months ago
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Honestly so good that I’m too shy to talk to people because I’m like 80% sure my impulsive ass would just ask strangers if they wanted to try to fall in love just to see if we could
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0tul1ss · 1 year ago
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#mannn i literally assumed he ghosted-- why on earth would he text me after so long????#i was fully like 'ok the last msg i sent literally makes me cringe a bit to read but its been months so ig im never opening the convo again#it was simpler before when there felt like there was nothing else to do and easier to move on. i even had a little crush on someone else !#now i have a whole wheel of decisions to choose from#and idek what i truly want from this guy anymore bc even just platonically he kinda fucked it up like. idk#or rather i want a lot of different things and idk what to choose#i want my friend back. i want to never see him again. i want him to know every truth of what ive felt and i want him to know none of it#i want him to miss me or maybe wonder about me sometimes down the line. i want him to not spare me another thought for the rest of his life#i want to reply only 'go fuck yourself' and i want to write him a letter and i want to ghost him better than he ghosted me#i want to tell him i love him and i want to tell him i hate him and i want to say nothing at all#i want the closure i was denied. i want to protect the closure i now have#<-going insane#anyway its soooo stupid like i already grieved for this shit bro. i accepted the end of this years long close friendship#anyway idk why im doing so much processing of this in a vent post nor do i know why i always feel compelled to post these when i do#good thing i keep a small presence on here lol. but yea uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh send post#ok wait i saved this as a draft and went to go look for what i had been tagging vent posts with#[couldnt find one i had been using consistently even tho the whole point is so ppl can blacklist it if they want whoops!!]#and i saw another vent from another time he just kinda disappeared on me#and while this time was a lot worse for a lot of reasons i think its important to say this--#that the last thing that i want is to go back to square one of this stupid awful cycle#vent
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sugurizz · 1 year ago
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𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐬, 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐬, 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐬 ✧ Feat. JJK MEN
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ── Jjk Men in their -real- Daddy era. (Am I secretly having a baby fever LMAOO)
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ── fluffy stuff, pure wholesomeness and affectionate dads.
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𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢
It's safe to say that sometimes you're raising two babies - only one of them is a big buff pouty one.
Daddy Toji sneaks to the kitchen in the middle of the night, leaving you both sleeping in your shared bedroom and then slowly closes the door. He promised himself he'd only take one *unnoticeable* spoon of your newborn's baby formula but ends up stuffing his face with the forbidden powder in the heat of the moment. He tries his best to hide his tracks by shoving the tin somewhere far in the cupboard.
He *oddly* always makes sure to be the one preparing his baby's bottle the next day - 'Oh darling, don'tcha move a muscle...I'll be right back with our baby's breakfast!'
You smile and raise a brow, already suspecting something. Daddy Toji is not much of a morning person. much less when it comes to baby chores...
𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮
Gojo is always there whenever you change your baby's diaper. He keeps laughing and giggling like a 6 year old, curiously learning from his baby momma how to take care of his little child. His sky blue eyes are staring at your skilled hands, handling your precious little one with infinte care. He keeps smiling in awe, chuckling every time your baby farts and making the funniest faces just to make them giggle.
He takes a million pictures of his baby every day; we're talking his whole camera roll is just his baby's face, cutesy hands, tiny feet, smiling, eating, sleeping on daddy's chest, drooling on his shoulder...the list never ends.
His baby looks so smol when he holds it in his huge hands. He has to bend all the way down just so he could pick them up cause obviously my dude is the tallest man ever.
𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢
He'd take full care of your newborn just to see you rest and relax. He told you to teach him everything he needs to know so that he'd be perfectly fit for his new -and best ever- occupation; your baby father. He's got however only one pet peeve; getting his little one to burp after feeding them.
The reason? He was doing it once, holding the baby while gently patting its back...until he suddenly felt a warm liquid slithering down his shirt - the expensive one you dearly gifted him on your wedding anniversary- and to his surprise it was none other than his little one's vomit dripping down his shoulder...
Now he makes sure you hold a napkin behind him whenever he does it.
𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨
He's by far the chillest Daddy EVER. Carries his little one whenever he goes. Gets super jealous when your baby starts calling for you, or wants you to hold them instead of him. He's determined to make them say 'daddy' first, but deep down knows it'd melt his heart when he sees the little version of him utter mommy's name for the first time.
Staying awake at night putting his baby to sleep just so you can get your full nightly rest is something he'd never miss out on. He hates seeing you tired or sleepy and puts both of your needs before anything else.
Daddy Geto is always calm and smiley, no matter how much mess his baby makes or how long it'd take for him to clean it up - sometimes makes you seriously wonder how he manages to be so damn chill all the time.
𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚
For a husband twice your size with four arms and eyes he sure should take most care of your little offspring - He does tbf - His baby is always laying somewhere on his body or at least near him; sleeping against his chest, nibbling on his thumb, drooling on the side of his shoulder or sitting on his huge lap.
He's got a 6th sense whenever it comes to his baby being hungry, thirsty, sleepy or needing anything at all. Instantly knows the reason why his little one is crying and most of the time is very quick to make them happy again.
Absolutely hates poopie smell and calls them a brat whenever he senses their diaper getting heavier. 'Aggh you little runt!' You can't help laughing at him getting overwhelmed with such a tiny thing and start teasing him over it.
𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐘𝐮𝐮𝐭𝐚
There's nothing that Yuuta loves more than children. He has always wanted to have kids and couldn't wait to create his very first and own one with you. He's in LOVE with seeing you taking care of them; almost admiring every move and every word you say. He smiles like an idiot whenever he sees you holding your baby, breastfeeding them, playing with them or even laying next to them.
His favorite game is to hide somewhere in the house and let his little one look for him. He does it so suddenly and quickly, leaving them puzzled with big round eyes - comes out of his hideaway when they start sobbing and laughs at their little red nose and pouty cheeks.
'Aww why is my little cupcake cryiiing?...Daddy's right here!'
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gutsby · 6 months ago
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Love Tap
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Pairing: Dad!Joel x Reader
Summary: Old habits die hard with your husband—touching you at inappropriate times is one of them.
Warnings: 18+. Joel Miller is a MUNCH Oral (f!receiving). Unprotected p-in-v (quickie). Slice of life, domestic-style and Joel calls you ‘Mama’ a whole lot. One playful bite.
Word count: 2.4k
Note: ‘You better back the fuck up before you get smacked the fuck up’ is a line from 2Pac’s song, ‘Hit ‘Em Up.’
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Joel Miller was a wonderful father.
Occasionally, he forgot how to act like one.
He had a tendency to get a little careless. Sloppy.
Letting the dignified, ever-respectful façade slip every now and again and smacking your ass when you walked past. Copping a feel when you had to squeeze by him in the kitchen. Best of all, pinching your cheek through your skirt while you were cradling the baby—his baby—and leaving you no choice but to shoot him a quick back-the-fuck-up-before-you-get-smacked-the-fuck-up look and a covert middle finger to remind him that he wasn’t supposed to be slapping your butt in front of the kids.
It was just bad practice to engage in those dumb, flirty antics, particularly when your four-year-old son had made it his mission in life to imitate everything dad did.
But again, Joel would sometimes forget that.
On a morning when he’d woken up a little too early with an erection that was a tad too stubborn to ignore, he got especially forgetful. He found himself plastered to your backside at the edge of the bathroom counter with a grin, knowing damn well you only had twenty-five minutes to get the family dressed, fed, and on the road.
“Joel, you are so—”
“Quick. I’ll be quick.”
His eyes suddenly pleading with yours in the mirror. You just might’ve had the willpower to turn his honeyed gaze away were it not for the lips that followed it. Tracing the shell of your ear and behind it, down your neck, leaving trails of soft kisses down the skin until he reached the collarbone, your sweet spot, and licked it—the bastard.
“Five. Minutes.” Your words were equal parts invitation and warning as you shimmied your PJs over your butt.
“You know I’ll have ya finished in two, sweet pea,” Joel teased—but deep down, you knew he wasn’t kidding.
Both of you had cum and were done in a record-breaking four and a half minutes, swapping pyjamas for normal clothes in less than half the time and stepping back out of the bathroom with your hair only marginally tousled.
By now you had the ‘Pre-K starts in thirty’ types of quickies down pat. You were proud. You glanced over your shoulder to see a similar glint in Joel’s eye, and as you started out the bedroom door, you felt a tap on your ass—or, with the sheer breadth of your husband’s hand, more like a WHACK, followed by the sound of a stifled laugh.
“Can Daddy get some more’a that later?” he quipped.
“More’a what?”
Aw, hell.
Your sweet, forever nosy mini-Joel was standing directly in front of you with two pinched brows and a mostly eaten dino nugget clenched tight in his tiny fist.
You opened your mouth to conjure up some half-assed excuse for the spank your son just saw, but then your husband was scooping the kid up in his arms and toting him straight down the hallway, and you heard, faintly:
“Whatcha gettin’ from Mama later?”
“None of your beeswax, bubs.”
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Joel got his second helping around lunchtime.
He’d been in between calls with what felt like an endless stream of subcontractors, suppliers, architects, and project managers when he swung by the house. You were in the midst of baking cardamom buns when he blew through the kitchen like an EF5 tornado and decided he’d be feasting on something else entirely.
“Joel, my buns,” you whined as soon as he’d carried you up the stairs and tossed you onto the bed, eager as ever.
“Fuck your buns.”
“You already fucked ‘em this morning—can you relax?”
Your husband already had your pants tugged halfway down your legs. You let him, then helped him kick the fabric the rest of the way off when it got to your ankles.
“You’re a fuckin’ maniac, Miller, y’know that?”
Something in the way he smirked as he sank his face between your bare thighs told you he already knew that. You would’ve liked to try and scold him again—give him a little more grief for the baked treats that would surely be burnt to a crisp by the time he was done—but then you felt his tongue lick a stripe up your slit, and you refrained.
Even if you’d wanted to, you scarcely would’ve been able to form a single word apart from, ‘Fu-cking hell, Joel’ and ‘Right there, right thereohfuuuuuuckfuckfuck.’
That was just fine by your husband.
In fact, he seemed perfectly content to lap at your slick, glistening folds while you moaned and cursed his name; it made him proud. Appreciative. Maybe even a tad too smug for his own good, if he were being honest, because the way you fisted his hair and rutted your hips against his face made you act a little more like him. A touch more reckless, sloppy, and desperate than your daily obligations as parents would seem to allow. A bit less proper and refined and a lot more slutty—all for him.
Joel teased your clit with a few soft touches from the tip of his tongue, and you almost tore the sheets in two.
“That feel good, Mama?” he hummed.
“F-Fingers, fuck, Joel— fingers,” you begged.
Still using his tongue, Joel drew the shape of a lemniscate extra slow just to spite you. You whined and bucked your hips in protest, but the man was undeterred—he knew exactly what he was doing. The only way he could be tempted to use his fingers now would be to spread your lips apart and lick you more, which he did.
Joel licked and sucked and drove you up the fucking wall with those figure eights until you nearly couldn’t take it. In one hasty, desperate move, you tilted your hips and tried to slip a finger past Joel’s mouth, into your cunt.
He bit that finger. You yelped.
“JOEL!”
It wasn’t that the bite actually hurt—his teeth barely grazed skin—but rather the way he refused to speed up. Gauging your wants and your needs with expert precision, he massaged the hood of your clit with his tongue and took care to plant suckling kisses as he did. You moaned and squeezed the bedspread, relishing the vulgar sounds of his mouth and the need he was building inside you. You turned your head to the side and whined into the pillow, knowing from the depths of your soul you needed release, but Joel just wouldn’t oblige you…yet.
When he grinned against your wet, warm, and slippery folds, his mouth might as well have joined in and said, ‘Keep going—you’ll cum on my tongue when I say so.’
Instead, Joel opted to say ‘Mama’ again, softly.
Mama.
He always called you that when he took you extra slow. Sometimes when he took you quick, too. Like a reminder to you both that you were, in fact, the mother of his children, and if the man had had it his way he’d have given you fifty more by now, daycare bills be damned.
He was generous like that. Always giving, giving, giving.
Just not when it came to doling out orgasms sometimes.
“I have a divorce lawyer on speed dial, just so you know,” you hissed through gritted teeth, head falling back when Joel’s tongue sank forward—inside you, then, “FUCK!”
“Mhmmm,” he hummed before retracting once more. Licking the soft, fleshy rim and nearly eliciting a scream.
Joel traced a circle with his tongue. He savored the taste. While you were whining and grinding your hips against the wet spot underneath you—a puddle that would only grow larger the longer he went on—your husband was devouring you, kissing your thighs every now and then.
“Well, if we split, my tongue goes too,” Joel said. Smug.
“Texas is a community property state,” you murmured, “I taught you how to eat pussy so your mouth is a marital asset.”
Silently, Joel wondered how that argument might hold up in court, grinned, then continued licking your cunt. You squeezed his head with your thighs, dug the balls of your feet in the sheets, and let out a lewd, pornographic scream that could’ve woken half the street. Luckily, your neighbors were probably all at work, your bedroom walls insulated just well enough to mask the noise, and Joel’s resolve crumbling slowly as he kissed between your legs.
One wanton, shameless, ‘I’m gonna cum, Joel, please’ was like music to his ears. He couldn’t believe how lucky he’d gotten with a wife and mother as sweet as you, so upright and polite in your day-to-day life and then a hot, trembling mess beneath his tongue when he needed you like this the most. Surely he couldn’t treat you so mean.
Joel wedged two thick fingers in your slick, dripping heat and beckoned you to him as kindly as he possibly could. Rubbing the pads of both digits, callused as they were, against the spongy insides of your core and flicking them forward—‘C’mere, Mama, Daddy’s right here, go on’— so of course, you had no other logical choice but to cum.
It was all habit by now. A dazzling, sumptuous routine.
And Joel Miller was certain he’d never tire of seeing it.
Your spine arched off the mattress an inch or two, toes curling at the feeling, and while the sensation spanned over your body, your husband was the first to see it, sense it on his lips and tongue and fingers just as well. He squeezed your hip, told you how fucking pretty you looked when you came for him, then patiently waited out the spasms and cries and fingers lacing through his soft, dark locks like he was your last remaining tether to earth.
Then he kissed the inside of your thighs and smiled.
“All better, honey?” he hummed.
“Yeah,” you breathed back.
“Still want a divorce?”
A smirk and a response of ‘Not until you knock me up at least one more time’ was hovering somewhere over your tongue when you felt the bed shake. Buzzing. Vibrating?
Joel sat up between your legs and yanked something out from under his ass. He peered down at the thing—staring into a screen—and cocked a brow as he looked back up.
“Someone’s been naughty,” he said simply. Grinning.
He lobbed the phone your way, and you just barely managed to catch it between two trembling hands.
Incoming Call: Francisco C. Morales Elementary
You shot Joel a look and answered it instantly.
Disoriented, disheveled, and slightly foggy from climax, you half-expected to find one of your son’s disgruntled teachers on the other end of the line, reminding you that today was a noon dismissal and everyone was supposed to pick their kids up an hour ago. Your husband was the one who would always keep up with school schedules, so your gaze narrowed at him, butt scooting up the bed while he tried to dive right back between your legs.
“He-llo?”
You smacked a hand away from the front of your blouse.
“Is this Mrs. Miller?” a voice trilled through the phone.
Yes, unfortunately, it was.
You almost had to backhand Joel across the face when he tried to bite the button off your brand new top, teeth ruthless in their pursuit of getting you fully naked now.
“This is she,” you squeaked.
Someone cleared their throat on the other end of the line—as though they knew you had a broad, hulking husband with a cock as hard as sheet metal trying to tear your clothes off while you talked. You stifled a shriek and a giggle when you felt your relentless man move down.
Joel was busy working your blouse from the bottom with that feral mouth of his when the voice sounded again:
“We’d really appreciate it if you and your husband could come see us this afternoon to have a little chat about—”
Your eyes widened. You clutched your phone even tighter and this time, more seriously, shoved Joel away. When he frowned and started to pout, you raised a finger.
“A-About what? Has my— has he done something bad?” Your voice all of a sudden tight, words wavering just enough to snag your husband’s attention too.
“We can explain more when you get here, he’s just…”
‘What the fuck?’ Joel mouthed silently, leaning in.
“What? What’s he done?” You couldn’t help it.
You heard a long sigh across the line, and you knew that wasn’t good. It sounded a lot like the kind of sighs you made whenever your baby made a colossal mess all over the kitchen floor, or your husband slammed a door too loud and woke the kids from their nap, or your son just—
“—keeps slapping his classmates on the butt.”
“Wait, what?”
You blinked. Joel coughed. Together, half-naked on the bed, you sat up a little straighter and leaned even closer into the phone, hearts starting to thud in your chests.
“Your son was just…spanking other kids and asking if he could ‘get some more’a that later,’ and when his teacher asked him where he’d learned to do a thing like that—”
You turned. Joel paled. Your gaze could’ve seared a hole through the front of his skull if you stared any harder, and just as your son’s principal continued talking, Joel raised his hands in surrender, already trying to apologize.
“Honey—”
“—and he told her he saw your husband do it at home—”
You didn’t need to hear another word. You were already fishing for your pants, yanking them back up your legs and brushing aside your husband’s soft, red-faced attempts at consolation, and when you were dressed, you started straight for the door. Already babbling some half-coherent apology to the woman on the phone, dodging Joel’s impossibly large hands and arms and hugs as he tried to pull you back into his chest and tell you he was sorry. You just might’ve let him, and maybe even believed him to be sincere, if you didn’t see the tiniest smirk on his lips as he fought to wrangle you in.
You’d made it to the door and were just about to pivot to give Joel the finger, tell him this was not funny at all, and he was coming with you right now, when both of you halted at the threshold and were obliged to turn again.
You sniffed the air, and your husband made a face.
Was it—
Before you could think, a plume of smoke drifted out through the kitchen door. Your eyes widened, and right as the fire alarm let out its piercing scream, you wailed,
“My buns!”
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giuliettagaltieri · 4 months ago
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His Girl
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Childhood friend!Reader
Chapter Synopsis: Featherless birds fall with a splat
Warning: Angst, cursing
Word Count: 4532
Part 1 • Part 2
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You aren’t exactly certain how you’d feel with Rafe walking out on you like that. 
Partly, you were glad that you somehow managed to face him without breaking but the way his eyes bore on you, it was just awful, like you were physically causing him pain.
And perhaps you were. 
JJ saw how your mood has switched after you got your drinks.  Your eyes were all blank and you were spacing out.  He made the decision for you both to head back and meet with your other friends. 
You are sitting with your girlfriends, and JJ decided to join you for the rest of the night.  He was entertaining everybody with his overly exaggerated wild stories, trying to get you to focus on him, but your eyes are wandering on a certain someone.
Rafe was gulping down beer, cup after cup.  It was too much, even for him.
You understand he’s got an extremely high alcohol tolerance but this is just sad to look at.  His face was all red and his shirt was clinging to his back, soaked with sweat.
“You know, I really thought I could finally catch your attention with Cameron all gone.”  JJ suddenly leans on the sofa next to you.  You sigh, giving a quick smile without looking at him.  “But I guess it was stupid of me to swoop in when you are literally in love with him.”
Pursing your lips together, you look away from Rafe to glance at the man beside you.  JJ was looking sullen but a trace of smirk is still on his lips, never really looking utterly hopeless.  Sometimes you wonder how he was able to master such a carefree façade. 
“I really had fun hanging out with you.”  You say sadly.  “You’re a good friend.”
He scrunches his face.  “Good friend.  Yeah.”
“JJ, come on.”  You laugh at his blatant display of dislike at being called a “friend” but he breaks into a smile.  “I really enjoyed being with you.  It’s just I don’t…It’s too soon and Rafe-”
“I know.”  He cuts you off, his eyes wandering to the man.  “He looks like shit.”  He mutters and you look over to see just in time Rafe doubling over, looking like he is seconds away from ruining the carpet.
Your back immediately leaves the sofa and you sit up straighter, ready to move whenever Rafe needs you.
“Y/N, he’s not a baby.  Let him take care of himself.”  JJ chuckles, making you bite your lip, still anxiously watching. 
Rafe looks like he’s about to collapse, he was clutching his head and grimacing in pain.  Soon enough, he was shoving people away and heading to the bathroom.
“I don’t know, J.  I haven’t seen him that drunk since…”  You squint at Rafe’ direction in the dark, trying to find a memory to match.  “I haven’t seen him that drunk.”
JJ’s brows slowly rise.  “Really?  Not even when his father found out he did drugs?”
You shake your head.  “No, not even then.”  You slowly rise from the couch and JJ lets you go. 
“Well, I suppose he can’t be left alone, can he?”  JJ smiles somberly and you return it apologetically, still thankful that he’s supporting you right now.
Your girlfriends however were not so keen on the idea.
“Y/N, where do you think you’re going?” 
“Ladies.”  JJ starts, throwing you a wink.  “Have I ever told you about that time we fought actual gators?”
You take your time, heading to the bathroom.  Your usual caregiver spirit when Rafe is in need has been dampened and you’re not sure she’s making a recovery soon.
The music gets muffled the deeper you go into the dark hallway.  The entire house is still buzzing from the music of course but you no longer feel like the speaker’s up your eardrums.  And with every step you take, the more you hear.  You are careful where you step, making sure your feet don’t step on any creaky floorboards.
You stand there, face to face with the bathroom door, hearing Rafe being absolutely wasted.  And is he crying?  You bite on your knuckle, brows meeting just a little as you try to listen.
Quietly, you twist the knob open.  He was retching, big arms hugging the tiny toilet, his head almost all the way in.  You stand there, watching his shoulders shake.  His sobs sounded almost hysterical, ripping from his throat.
What has happened to you, Rafe?
“Rafe?”  You gently call his name and he turns to you.  His hand absentmindedly tried to flush the contents of the toilet, missing it multiple times.  You watch him sag, his entire body sitting on his ankles as he looks up to you helplessly.
“Hey.”  He drawls.  “Wha... wha' are you doin' here?”  He asks casually in a coarse voice he got after barfing his guts out.  His heavy-lidded eyes look up at you, watching you hesitantly walk towards him.  “Shouldn’t be here.”  He shakes his head, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.
“Rafe.”  You say his name so gently, he closes his eyes.  He’d pay just to hear you say his name again and again.  “Are you alright?”  You ask and he looks up at you dumbly, mouth slightly parted before nodding slowly.
“Yes.”
You fish out your own handkerchief and run the tap over it, just enough to dampen the fabric.  “You don’t look like you’re alright.”  You smile, a hint of teasing on your voice and he scoffs.
“Why ask when you don’…don’t believe me anyway?”  He gestured stupidly with his hand and he stills when you grab the said hand.  He looks up at you as you wipe the sick off his arm.
“You drank too much.”  You mumble as you start to step closer to him, your hand cupping his cheek to wipe at the corner of his lips.
“No, shit.”  He wanted to say but the words are stuck on his throat as he just stared at you, taking care of him, touching him, just looking at him again.  He drops his hands and his limp fingers rest on the cold bathroom floor.  He is feeling too much, how your ankles brush on his thighs, the warmth of your fingers, and the soft dampness of the fabric gliding on his chin.
Have you always been like this to him?
Rafe wonders if he just sat still while you tended to him before, would he have this sight of you all those times.  Was he so stupid he missed all opportunities to look at you like this?
“Come back.”
You pause.  “What?”
He shakes his head before looking at the pinstriped polo you are wearing.  His brows creased, teeth clenching in annoyance as he pinched the fabric.  “This…this is mine.  You’re wearin’ MY clothes while you’re kissin’ other guys!”  He fumes, hands clumsily tugging at your clothes that your knees almost buckle, your hand finding purchase on his shoulder so as to not fall.  “That’s fucking un…unacceptable!  You like ME!  You can’t go ‘round kissin’ other guys when y’ like me!”  He suddenly yells and your eye twitches.
Your finger jabs at his chest.  “Fuck you!”
Rafe’s glassy eyes widen as his breath gets caught in his throat.  Did you just…did you just curse at him?
“Fuck you, Rafe!”  You repeat in annoyance.  Blood boiling within seconds as you angrily run a hand on your hair, scoffing at the sheer audacity of this man to say those things to you. 
You glare at him again and he actually flinches.  “Don’t tell me what to do.  You have no right to decide for me.”  You angrily strip off the pinstriped polo, his head following your wild motion before you crumple it in a ball.  “This is your polo?”  You raise it and he nods hesitantly, still in shock at your outburst.  “Here!”  You throw it at his face and you watch it cover his head, his hands are sluggish as he slowly pulls it off. 
You’re heaving in frustration both hands on your hips as you look at his crestfallen face, bunching the fabric in his large hands.
“Then I can go kiss other guys now, huh?”  You say out of anger and you watch his shoulders sag as he brings his hands to the floor again, fingers twisting the fabric.
He looked absolutely wrecked and your heart starts to feel heavy again.  You cross your arms, leaning on the wall as you watch him stare at the floor.
“Why shouldn’t I be allowed to kiss other guys?  You made it clear that you don’t like me.”  His head shoots up when you say that.  “I’m not waiting for you forever.”
Rafe presses the heel of his palms against his eyes before he looks at you in agony, face all red, his bottom lip jutting out just the slightest.
“Y/N, please.”  He moves to you, still on his knees as he loosely wraps an arm around your thighs.  You looked up at the ceiling when he stared up to you desperately.  “’m sorry, please.  Don’t leave me ‘gain, please.”
You attempt to push him off but he hugs your thighs tighter, his head pressing on your stomach.  “Rafe, let go!”
“No!”  He sobbed, his shoulders shaking.  “You’re mine!  You like me! Not sharing you with that…that fucking pogue-”
“Rafe!”
He flinches again but he doesn’t respond, only hugging you impossibly tight.
“You have to let me go.”  You say more calmly, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. 
He shakes his head against your stomach.  You lean further against the wall, trusting it to hold you up as you surrender, sighing out your frustration as you rub his back, letting him cry on your stomach.
Perhaps JJ was wrong, about Rafe not being a baby.  You truly feel like you are calming down an overgrown toddler.  A toddler that fed on steroids instead of milk.  His arms are tightly wrapped around you, just allowing you to breathe and aside from that, you can’t do anything else.  Your free hand that didn’t get caught in his trapping hold, tried to soothe him, trying to tell him that you’re there, with him.
You run your fingers through his buzzed hair, feeling the heat and sweat cling on your fingers.
“You’re a mess.”  You mumble, a small smile playing on your lips when his shoulders eventually start to stop shaking.  “You got snot all over my belly, ugh.”
Rafe loosens his arms around you and wipes his nose, his eyes glaring at you for a moment.  You smile at him smugly as he gathers himself.  He clears his throat as he stands in front of you, eyes kept on the polo that he crumpled on his hand like a ball.
“Wanna wash your face?”  You giggle.
He glares at you again but actually does what you told him to and takes the mouthwash you casually hands him.  You nudge him with your shoulder to get him to scoot over so you can wash your handkerchief.  Rafe watches your hands get under the faucet, just calmly watching the water glide over your skin, delicate fingers wringing the fabric that you so gently wiped on his face a while ago.
“’m sorry.”  He slurred as he watched you tidying up.  “Was so stupid.  Sayin’ things that I don’t mean.”  He continues, eyes starting to get desperate as you just rifle through your bag, not even looking at him.  “Sorry for causing you trouble all the time.”  He follows you like a puppy when you move past him to head to the door.  “Please, don’t leave me again.”
You grip the doorknob tightly before it loosens in defeat.  Rafe’s eyes brighten up when you turn to look at him.
“Why do you boys suddenly become the most honest people when you’re drunk?”  You ask exasperatedly, also remembering JJ’s confession on the porch.  “But then again, you could just be spouting nonsense.”  You open the door this time but he puts a hand against it to close it again.
“I’m not.  Please!”  Rafe almost begs, his entire frame caging you against the door, his respect for personal space long forgotten as there’s nothing else in his head but to try and get you to understand, to believe.  His tongue is heavy and his head is murky due to intoxication, which made him all the more frustrated.
You press your lips together, startled eyes boring into him.  You have known that Rafe has an extreme and overwhelming side to him, his entire presence just smothering you in the best ways you can imagine.  But with you trying to hold on to the fragile thread of anger and stability, you decide to push him by his chest.  “Why don’t we uh…grab coffee?  Let you sober up?”
He runs a hand on his face, it’s becoming a habit of his when he’s around you.  “Fine.  But don’t disregard everything I said just because I’m ‘drunk’.  Please.”  He said the last word with emphasis, his eyes offering no bargaining, prompting you to nod.
“Alright.”
Rafe looks into your eyes for a couple more seconds, making you understand that he is not willing to accept a half-assed response and you need to take him seriously.  He slowly backs up, hands shoving into his pockets while you tongue your cheek, hesitantly opening the door for the both of you.
The blasting music thrums in your ear the deeper you get into the party, maneuvering your way in the sea of hormonal teens.  A hand wraps on your wrist and you stop to look who it was.
It was JJ, heaving.  He probably ran the moment he saw you.  “Hold on, you’re leaving?” 
Rafe was quick to pull your hand away from JJ’s hold, immediately squaring up.  His chin was titled in a challenge as he eyed the flowers and bows decorating the band-aid on JJ’s chin.
“Rafe, please.”  You beg, arms circling on his bicep to stop him from doing anything to JJ, who didn’t look the least bit afraid.  In fact, he was looking at Rafe in pure entertainment.  “JJ, I’m sorry.  I’ll just talk to you tomorrow, okay?”
“No, you won’t!”  Rafe seethes but you only roll your eyes at him. 
Kissing his teeth, JJ nods.  “Yeah, sure.  Let me know if you need anything.”  He eyes Rafe one more time and smiles at you in his usual relaxed manner.  “I’ll tell your friends you left early.”
When you finally made it out of the crammed up beach house, you closed your eyes at the nipping sea breeze.  You can’t believe you’re leaving the party with the person you have been trying to avoid for weeks.
“Keys.”  You mutter and Rafe hastily digs through his pocket, his hooded eyes blinking as he tries to locate his keys.
Your deadpanned eyes watch him for a few more seconds before he finally passes it to you, along with the pinstriped polo, which you hesitantly take.
He felt weird, having to take the passenger seat, especially when it’s you with him.  Rafe gets in the car, his eyes on you the entire time you drive.  You’re not exactly acknowledging his presence in the car with you, despite his entire body twisted to face you, his head that is leaning back on the chair never turned to any direction but yours.  He didn’t even know you arrived until you were taking off your seatbelt.
Rafe follows you quickly, nearly tripping on his way out.  But he plays it cool, pulling his shirt down when it rode up.  He meets your eyes briefly in embarrassment.  This entire experience is ruining alcohol for him.
Even thinking about the mess he made in the bathroom, with you witnessing, made him want to smash every bottle that will ever grace his eyes again.  That shit’s evil.  Rafe blinks at the brightly lit convenience store, not yet able to process the colors of the different flavors of ramen and chips.  He closes his eyes tightly, nearly driven to overstimulation and seeks out a chair, collapsing on it as he attempts to massage away the bounding pulse on his temple.
He feels you place a hand on his shoulder and the scent of coffee fills his lungs.  Rafe looks at you briefly and the swirling liquid placed in front of him.  You sat yourself on the chair opposite his and your glossed lips wrap on a straw, sipping on your tall cup of slushie.
After muttering a quick thanks, Rafe picks up the coffee, tentatively blowing on it and watching the steam blow off in your direction before taking a sip.
Your cheeks heat up at the groan he lets out when he takes more sips.  His shoulders are slightly hunched and you quietly admire his physique as you continuously slurp, watching his intoxication being masked by caffeine with every gulp he takes. 
Realizing that you’re staring, your eyes slowly shift outside the glass, cheeks all warmed up.  Rafe sets down his coffee and just takes his time to look at you.  He does not know if it’s still the lingering effects of alcohol in his blood or the overly bright lighting in this rundown convenience store, but you look like you’re glowing.
“Y/N.”  He attempts to speak but you shake your head.
“Give it time, please. Coffee doesn’t magically cure intoxication, you know.”  You smile softly to reassure him.
Rafe smiles back before taking another sip.  He watches you turn to the road outside again.  There you were, in front of him again after weeks of not seeing each other, just sipping on sugar and ice as you swung your feet that were clad in babydoll heels, with pretty straps that he always found cute and alluring.  Despite the cozy choice of clothing, you never go without a statement piece.  
He steals another glance at your clothes, along with the pinstriped polo you decided to wear again.  He takes another sip of coffee.  “It looks better on you.”
You look down on your clothes, lips pressing together before giving him a curt smile.  “…Thanks.”
“Sure.”  He nods.  Both of you look at each other for a while, not quite certain what to do with the still tense atmosphere before simultaneously looking away, like a couple for teenager going on a first date, it’s fucking ridiculous.
Time passed with not a single word being uttered between you.  Rafe watches how the coffee stained a line on the cup every time he takes a sip, the liquid now cooled, and your slushie cup was starting to sweat and leave trails of water everytime you move it.  His eyes were starting to focus again and once he was confident in being able to speak without slurring, he cleared his throat to garner your attention.
“Listen.”  He begins but the words lodge themselves in his throat the moment your curious eyes flit to him, perhaps this was a bad idea.  He never knew what to say.  Rafe doesn’t know if he can last one conversation without offending you somehow.  “I know I hurt you.  And I know it wasn’t just that time at the party.”  He presses a knuckle on his lips to gather his thoughts.  “I always take you for granted, when all you ever did was take care of me.”
You cross your arms in an attempt to make yourself feel protected as you lean back, eyes avoiding him.
“Your kindness and efforts.  Your…feelings.  They were so easy to overlook when you gave them to me every single day without fail.”  He tries to reach out to you but stops midway and drops his hands on the table.  “I never knew what I had until you decided to take everything away.”
Your eyes sharpen and he winces at his careless mistake.
“I mean, until I finally succeeded in pushing you away.”  He reworded his sentence, making sure to pin the blame on himself instead of you.  He hated how hurt he made you feel.  He felt like shit.  He never cared when people called him an asshole or a psycho, but after what he did to you, he felt like every label given to him was all real, and this time, it hurt.
He had girls before, and all the wanting he can associate with them is the feeling of fleeting euphoria when they’re under him, that is all.  Rafe never missed anyone, or anything about anyone.  Until you came along.
Rafe found himself in the middle of the night, missing you calling him by his name.  He missed your smile and scent.  His cheeks suddenly go wild red when he remembers the mess he made out of himself when he got your shirt, one you accidentally left in his room, up his nose during those nights when the longing just beats him up.
“I regret everything I said and done.”  He says, trying to get back on track to apologizing.  “And if you want to be my…friend again…”  He takes a deep sigh.  “I’ll do better.”
You chew on your bottom lip, eyes shyly meeting his, and you uncross your arms slowly.
“You promise?”
Rafe nods quickly, a small smile appearing on his lips as his hand darts out to hold yours.  “Yes, I promise!  Just don’t shut me out again.”
Gently, you shift your hand to wrap around his and he gladly holds yours back securely.
“I’ll try to be less…controlling too.”  You look away.  “I won’t bother you as much and I won’t cling to you in parties or wherever-”
“I thought we’re okay already?”  Rafe was dumbfounded.
“We are.”  You say, equal confusion in your eyes.
“Then why are you still staying away from me after this?”  He asks in frustration.
Your lips part, trying to form words but his statement just muddles everything up.
“I…I just didn’t want you to get fed up again.”  You say quietly and he grabs both your hands this time, pulling them to his chest.
“Baby, I don’t care, just come back to me, alright?”  He says quickly, you don’t think he realized what he called you just now.  “I don’t care if you call me six times a day to argue that raisins do not belong in bread or if you hold my hand in every party we go to.”
The heat in your cheeks slowly travels to your neck.  “Rafe.”
“You can have me drive you around the island when you get hungry at three in the morning.”  He beams in a surge of confidence and affection.  “I’ll let you fix my clothes as it pleases you so much, slap as many hello kitty bandaids on my face as you want.”  He laughs, making you smile too.  “I-I don’t even know what I’m saying right now, just please let’s go back to how we were before, yeah?”  He presses a kiss on your knuckles.  “I don’t want to hear any of this plan you have.  I just want you with me again.”
At this point, there really is nothing you can say and you can only nod.  You are glad that Rafe is satisfied with that response.
After a few more minutes of you catching your breath in silence, you decide to call it a night.  Rafe, now sobered up, decided to drive, and let you enjoy the passenger seat like you always do.
Despite the conversation you had in the convenience store, both of you can’t shake off the feeling that you’re forgetting something.  Like there is something you are purposefully holding back from each other, and it visibly makes you antsy, Rafe more than you.
He taps his finger on the wheel, tugging at the seatbelt every now and then as you continuously shift your eyes from the road and back to the car interior.
When he finally pulls over in front of your gate, neither of you want to move, still waiting for that something to happen.  But as another moment passes, you realize that perhaps it’s time to leave it here for now, to take things slowly, see where it takes you.  But he isn’t sure if he wants that, to see you slip away again, like the finest sand between his fingers.
“Uhm…thanks for the ride.”  You make a move to open the door but Rafe was quick to lock it, making your brows meet in a soft frown.  “Rafe-”
He cuts you off by clumsily pulling his seatbelt off, cupping both your cheeks to smash his lips on yours.  It wasn’t careful nor romantic, just pure unadulterated need and impulse.  You can feel the tremble in each other’s lips, the fear that one of you might pull away, the fear of what comes next, the fear of not having the other’s love returned in the same intensity.
But as your breath mixes, your tears soaking each other’s cheeks, your body slowly melts into each other’s arms.  He was desperate, biting and sucking your lips, everything in his kiss wanted to possess you, making your chest tighten in having everything you ever desired at this moment.
Rafe pulls away abruptly, a thin line of spit still connecting your lips when he looks deep into your eyes.  “Tell me you still love me.”  He begs while he cradles your face.
“Rafe.”  You push him away gently but he presses his forehead against yours, his shoulders shaking. 
“Tell me, please.”  He squeezed his eyes, not knowing what response he would be receiving.  He knows he’d die if you reject him, with his soul open and bared to you in its most vulnerable form.
His eyes slowly open when he feels a soft caress on his arm and you’re smiling at him with your tears cascading down your face.
“I love you.”
It felt like Rafe had winter melting in the palm of his hand, giving birth to spring.  Whatever doubt and fear is replaced with nothing else but sweet sweet warmth.  He is being shrouded with undeniable assurance that made him feel invulnerable yet ironically, impossibly vulnerable.  He had nothing moments ago, and suddenly he got a taste of everything, all at once.  He has you.  Just as you have him.
He laughs and kisses you breathlessly.  “God, Y/N, I love you.  I love you, I love you.”  He litters your face with wet kisses, making you laugh, before he kisses your lips once more, his teeth nibbling on your kiss-swollen lip.  “Mmmh, did you get a new lip balm?”
You gently pry his hands from your face as you continue to laugh.  He meets your eyes with sheer adoration, head still trying to wrap around the fact that you are his girl.  His girl.  His girl.
God, he’d gladly die if you told him to, just to prove his dedication. 
“I love you.”  He whispers gently, intimately, vulnerably.
And with equal passion, you reply, “I love you too.”
Rafe has never felt this kind of happiness in his life, not once.  You are his natural high, the ecstasy he’s been chasing.  And now that he has you in his arms, he’ll fight tooth and nail to keep you there with him.
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Not Your Girl • Not Her Man
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six-eyed-samurai · 6 months ago
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SUMMARY: The three times Giyuu really wishes he was loud about his opinions because god damn if he wasn’t fed up with all the people hitting on you. A/N: You can read this as a part II to this fic, or simply standalone. WARNINGS: Reader is female and has already started a family with Giyuu. TAGLIST: @flogflower MASTERLIST/PREVIOUS FICS
Tomioka Giyuu was known for being a very silent wallflower, a mysterious man whom no one knew much about, not even the rest of the Hashira, as shown by how they never knew he had a wife until very recently. Usually that worked in his favour, as he hadn’t liked to be hounded by busybodies for his marriage to you or the birth of your first child Koji, but sometimes there really were moments where he wished he was as loud as Rengoku or open about his opinions as Shinazugawa because god damn if he wasn’t fed up with all the people hitting on you.
THE FIRST TIME:
He finally found the time to secretly surprise you by taking you and Koji to that restaurant you were always raving about. You’d always wanted to have a meal with him there and to this day he was still very sorry he never had the time to go. It would be the first time you all would be out as a family and understandably you were very excited (underneath Giyuu’s mask of stone he was as giggly as baby Koji at 3 a.m. in the morning). Understandably Giyuu spent a lot of time planning and perfecting this outing from reserving a table to predicting exactly how much he’d have to spend on dessert (your pregnancy no longer excused your crazy cravings, but Giyuu was long used to it…perhaps not his wallet though).
Understandably Giyuu was rehashing the 101 ways to get rid of the patron flirting next to you. It looked like the first way, aka staring at him intensely in the most uncomfortable way, was not working as well as he hoped.
The audacity! Giyuu couldn’t even savor his salmon daikon now, not when he was fuming so quietly as he was forced to watch the brunet drop hint after hint of his interest in you. When he. Was. Right. There.
The sheer audacity!
…he wasn’t sitting that far from you, was he? Maybe the man assumed you both were strangers? Giyuu slouched in his seat, as unaware of how obviously he was sulking as the man shamelessly hitting on you of your marital status. Koji turned his head up in surprise at his father’s sudden stop at tilting the milk bottle into his mouth, babbling sadly.
Did he not see the ring or something? Giyuu wondered if he should’ve bought something flashier like Uzui had said some time ago. You were barely offering the man a fraction of your attention but even Total Concentration Breathing couldn’t accelerate his heart as much as it did now.
Go away, Giyuu chanted in his head, go away.
“Mamamammamamamamamamamaamam!” Koji suddenly squealed, squirming around in Giyuu’s hold, reaching out for his mother. You turn immediately, cooing at your precious boy. At other times Giyuu would be put out by how his son was choosing you over him, but today he couldn’t stop his mouth from twitching into a smirk when he watched the man’s priceless expression as he handed over Koji to you.
“Pass me the bottle, Yuu.” You cuddle your baby closer, oblivious to the staring match Giyuu was winning between the man and him over your bent head. “Aw, don’t fuss, don’t fuss, Daddy sucks at feeding you, doesn’t he?”
“Hey!” Giyuu’s eyes widened, speechless. You giggle and press a quick kiss to his crumb-stained cheek (Giyuu was rarely one to gloat but he couldn’t resist when he flashed a triumphant smile to the man uncomfortably making some excuse to get up and leave.
“Here, hold him, I need to clean up your face.” Giyuu happily took back Koji and let you wipe at his face, reveling in the tenderness of your gaze. “I swear, Giyuu, even Koji doesn’t make such a mess - it’s like I’ve got two babies to take care of.”
“I thought you liked taking care of me!”
“I do!” You roll your eyes at his indignant expression.
“Mmmm!” Koji cooed and the corner of Giyuu’s lip twitched as he looked down. Saved by his baby to protect his other baby - oh well, better than the plan of extreme torture Giyuu had been dreaming of when that tiny spark of jealousy ignited.
THE SECOND TIME:
He thought that jealous, angry spark was smothered and put out after a week or so went by with nothing else like that happening, but hell was he wrong and like the flames of hell the spark was bursting into.
How the hell did so many people not realize you’re married to him, for goodness’ sake? He wondered. For that matter why did this always happen the moment you handed Koji to him for even just a moment?
Giyuu trailed around you like a lost puppy, pathetically trying to remind you of his existence while you walked around town with your recently reunited childhood friend. After the initial introductions and usual hyped excitement at seeing a cute baby you and Aya had fallen to catching up on what the both of you had been doing for the past years and recounting silly memories. You were so delighted at meeting her again Giyuu had offered to take Koji from you and leave for privacy.
He was content with the bonding time he had spent with Koji, of course, but it was rather spoiled when he returned after the tuckered out child finally curled against him to take a quick nap to find the topic of conversation had turned to one of romance and relationships.
“Your fiance sounds like an amazing man! I’m so happy for you - you better keep your promise of making me your maid of honor!” Out of habit you slipped your hand into Giyuu’s when he sat down on the bench next to you.
Aya giggled, as lovestruck as Giyuu at the moment. “Of course I will! But eh, (y/n)-chan, haven’t you gotten married yet?”
You didn’t notice the slow turning of Giyuu’s head in her direction with a disbelieving face, only to beam and reply. “I am! He’s -”
“If you want I know someone, he matches your personality very well! He’s a close friend of my fiance actually. I mention you a lot to him, to be honest, and he said you sound like a lovely person. If you’re okay with it I can help set you both up!”
“Are you stupid?” Giyuu suddenly blurted out, unable to control himself anymore. “I’m her husband…”
***
“Can you tell Mama I’m sorry for me, baby?” Giyuu sighed, gently nudging Koji away from the edge of the futon. He cocked his chubby head to one side, blinking, then flopped over to wriggle his way closer to Giyuu. “She’s not talking to me but she won’t ignore you.”
Giyuu was dying (from the lack of cuddles). Ever since his childish outburst (a justified defense of himself) that had severely taken Aya aback and caused you to give him the cold shoulder for the rest of the day. He had been banished (sent off to go sleep in the living room) and starved (denied your delicious cooking and made to go find cold soba from a nearby food stall). At least he had one ally left (Koji had no idea what was going on; Giyuu had simply kidnapped him from his cot for company).
“Bwa.”
“Mmm. I’ve already apologized about ten times though. I still can’t believe Aya somehow thought I was just a friend following her though.” It was nice to pretend Koji could actually understand him, though he’d never admit it. “Hey, hey, don’t drool there.”
“Mmph! Bweeeh!”
“Maybe I’ll go buy her flowers?”
“Sssss!”
“Are you talking to the baby, Tomioka?”
Giyuu sat up straight and whipped around fast enough to crack his neck. You stood by the hallway with your arms crossed and lips pursed. Koji giggled.
“…no.” Giyuu frowned. “Don’t call me Tomioka.”
“It’s your name isn’t it?”
“Not for you.” He looked on the verge of tears. This man really knew how to tug on your heartstrings; you averted your gaze. “It’s Giyuu. Or Yuu. Anything but that. Are you that mad at me?”
“You didn’t have to be so rude, you know.” You crossed the room and sat down in front of him, helping Koji roll over to you. “I didn’t know she didn’t know we were married and that’s is kinda silly of Aya not to notice, but that’s not really a reason to be so insulting.”
“I’m sorry.” Giyuu lowered his head. “…am I not good enough to be your husband?”
“What?!” Your jaw fell open. “Why would you say such a thing? You’re the best thing this world’s ever given me! I love you so much I’d actually choke on air if you’re not there! I’d kill myself if you left me! How can you even say such a thing?”
“Not like that! I’m just -” Giyuu shrugged miserably. “Why doesn’t anybody see that? Is it because I don’t show affection to you a lot? You could do a lot better, everyone seems to think.”
“Giyuu. You’re going to look at me and have what I said drilled into your head.” Well, at least you weren’t calling him by his surname anymore. “When we started going out I already knew what I was getting with you. So what if you don’t feel comfortable kissing and hugging and holding hands out in public? I don’t know any other guy who’d buy me bouquets for no reason, try to cook me my favorite meal when I’m sick, make sure I don’t overwork myself during training. Whether people think I could do a lot better or not is their problem. I’m already doing the best there is, so don’t ever say that to me, Yuu.”
Giyuu definitely was not crying.
“I’m serious, Giyuu. If you do you’ll be sleeping out here for a week.”
“Bwa!”
“And this time I won’t be letting you bundle off our baby for yourself either.” The closeness of how much you were leaning into him and the way you were smiling though said otherwise. Giyuu chuckled, pushing away your hair from your face and pulling Koji onto his lap.
“Can I go back to the bedroom then?”
THE THIRD TIME:
Giyuu was reasonably confident if someone were to repeat this mistake he’d be able to handle like a mature, grown man and not throw another childish remark around.
The universe didn’t seem to think so.
Shinobu had advised you to not go on any missions for the time being, reasons being you should be recovering after Koji’s birth. Giyuu and you were more than happy about that, both having agreed at the start that you didn’t want any babysitters. So for now you were saddled with minor jobs like scouting out an area or mostly, giving extra training to the lower-ranked slayers.
Giyuu was fortunately free that day, so he had decided to go stick around and if nothing else enjoy watching you relentlessly push the slayers into doing better. Somewhere along the way, however, Koji had somehow dropped his beloved stuffed rabbit and to prevent the inevitable temper tantrum and crying fit Giyuu wasted an hour looking everywhere for it.
Finally successful in finding the worn toy and putting Koji to sleep, Giyuu headed off to go find your training grounds.
“(y/n)-sensei is so pretty, isn’t she?”
“She doesn’t look married too.”
“Bet she’ll say yes if I ask her out!”
“You wish! Someone like you, stand a chance with her? Dream on! I’m far better than you, she’d say yes to me for sure!”
“Hah, wanna bet? You sure have an ego the size of Japan to think that.”
Giyuu stopped in his tracks with a scandalized expression on his usually stoic face.
The slayers you had been training were clearly on break. The two he had accidentally eavesdropped on were older than the rest, perhaps around the same age as him and clearly a whole lot cockier. You were too distracted answering some questions from others and calling out encouragement to a group of sparring slayers to hear them…but he did.
He walked in and everyone fell silent.
“Isn’t that the Water Pillar? He looks so scary!”
“What’s he doing here? I’m not going to be able to do well with a Hashira breathing down my neck!”
“Woah, whose baby is that? It looks so much like (y/n)-sensei!”
“Koji missed you,” Giyuu said abruptly, stopping in front of you and ignoring the circulating whispers, handing over your child. You quietly laugh - since Koji was born Giyuu started using him to express his feelings.
“Are you sure it was him or you - mmmph!”
Giyuu took a particular relish in seeing the looks of shock, embarrassment and horror on the two slayers as he yanked you into a heart-stopping kiss and flashed the hand with his ring on it at them.
“You’re done training for the day. All of you are dismissed.” He grabbed your hand, gestured listlessly at the others, and dragged you away firmly.
“Giyuu!!!”
***
He made a special point to invite the two slayers to the Water Estate a couple of months later. They were very pleased indeed to be trained by the Water Hashira himself per personal request! Honorary Tsugoku!
“Why are you both so weak? You move so slowly any demon would eat you before you even draw your sword. Have you not been listening to my wife’s training? If you aren’t, don’t ever waste her time ever again. Even my son could do better than you both.”
There really was something very humiliating about being compared to the cooing, drooling baby pushing around his toys in the corner. Tomioka must really hate them to be speaking so much…
“Well? Get on with it!”
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pucksandpower · 6 months ago
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Make Them Proud
Charles Leclerc x Bianchi!Reader
Summary: Charles can’t help but thinking of those he lost after finally claiming victory at his home race
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The sheets are tangled around your legs as you trace lazy patterns across Charles’ bare chest. His breathing is deep and steady, but you can tell from the crinkle between his eyebrows that his mind is racing. A small smile plays across your lips as you watch the moonlight cast shadows along the contours of his face.
“You want to say something,” you murmur, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “I can tell.”
Charles opens his eyes slowly, blinking a few times before focusing on you. A tender expression softens his features as he gazes at you.
“How did you know?” He asks, his voice low and rumbly from sleep.
You shrug one shoulder. “Call it a girlfriend’s intuition.”
He chuckles softly, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I should know better than to try and hide anything from you.”
Propping yourself up on one elbow, you raise an inquisitive eyebrow. “Well? What’s on your mind, mister race winner?”
A myriad of emotions flicker across Charles’ face — pride, awe, a hint of melancholy. He worries his lower lip between his teeth for a moment before speaking.
“I was just thinking about Jules. And Papa,” he admits quietly. “Wondering if … if I made them proud today.”
The vulnerability in his voice causes a lump to form in your throat. You reach out, cupping his cheek in your palm as his eyes shine with unshed tears.
“Charles ...” you breathe out his name like a prayer. “Of course you made them proud. How could you even doubt that?”
He lets out a shaky exhale, leaning into your touch. “I know, I just … it means so much to me, you know? Racing for them, honoring their memories.”
Nodding slowly, you shift until you’re lying with your head on his chest, the steady thump of his heartbeat grounding you.
“They know that, mon cœur,” you soothe. “They know how much today meant to you, how hard you’ve worked, how much you’ve sacrificed. They’re so incredibly proud of the man you’ve become.”
Charles wraps his arms tightly around you, burying his face in your hair. You can feel the tension slowly melting from his body as he draws strength from your embrace.
“You’re right,” he finally mumbles against your temple. “I know you’re right. It’s just … sometimes the pressure feels so immense, you know? Like the weight of their legacies is on my shoulders.”
Pulling back, you frame his face with your hands, forcing him to meet your earnest gaze.
“Charles Leclerc, you listen to me,” you state firmly. “Jules and Hervé loved you so much, their pride in you had nothing to do with racing. They adored you for the incredible man you have always been — your kindness, your passion, your heart.”
You lean in, resting your forehead against his as you choose your next words carefully.
“While I know they would be honored that you race for them, carrying on their legacies … I also know they’d want you to race for yourself. For the pure love of the sport that burns within you.”
Charles’ breath hitches, his eyes glistening with fresh tears. You smooth the pad of your thumb along his cheekbone, willing him to understand the depth of your conviction.
“You don’t have to prove anything to them, mon amour. Just being your amazing self is enough to make them proud every single day.”
A tremulous smile curves Charles’ lips as the tears finally spill over, tracking glistening paths down his cheeks. He surges forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss filled with every ounce of love, gratitude and adoration he feels for you in that moment. You melt into him, tangling your fingers in his hair as you return the kiss with fervent passion.
When you finally break apart, breathless and giddy, Charles gazes at you with an expression of pure wonder.
“How did I get so lucky?” He murmurs reverently. “To have someone like you in my life, who understands me so completely?”
You let out a teasing laugh, booping his nose lightly with your fingertip. “Years of practice, Leclerc. Years of practice.”
Chuckling, he pulls you back against his chest, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of your head. You snuggle impossibly closer, relishing in the heat of his embrace.
“Thank you,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “For everything. For being my rock, my voice of reason … my home.”
You press a soft kiss over his wildly beating heart in acknowledgment. No words are needed — you both understand the depths of your connection, the invisible cord that binds your souls together.
As you lay there, tangled in his arms while the first rays of dawn creep through the curtains, you can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of peace and contentment. The roar of the crowds, the scream of the engines, the flashing lights of the cameras — it all fades into blessed silence.
In this moment, cocooned in your own private world, there is only Charles. Your brave, sensitive, extraordinary Charles. And he is yours, just as you are utterly and completely his.
Tomorrow, the whirlwind will begin again. But tonight … tonight is just for the two of you. Two hearts, bound by the most precious and unbreakable of ties — love.
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parfaitblogs · 3 months ago
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never grow up ❀ s. reid x reader
in which you are at the age you never thought you'd live to. 
genre: hurt/comfort + fluff! tags: established relationship. (very brief) mentions of r not eating. depression. non sexual nudity. mention of a past suicide attempt. reader is codependent on spencer #anxiousattachment!! mini argument not really because he loves you a lot!!! please know your triggers ♡  word count: 2.2k a/n: this was a vent write. LOL! i think i switch tenses a lot in this? i tried to fix it. this is why we don't write fanfiction while we're crying!!! i love u i love u i love u and i am so so glad you are the age that you are!! continue to grow please!! life will become beautiful!!!
Depression is a funny thing.
Sometimes you are forgetting there has ever been a version of you out there that fantasised about death and longed for an escape from this world you deemed so cruel, so invasive. Other times, you are sat naked on the cold floor of your bathroom rocking back and forth, clawing at your skin and ripping hair out of your scalp because you are sobbing so ferociously. The world spinning around you and your cries, so violent, are making you lightheaded and you wonder if you pass out here if anyone will ever find you. 
Clearly, tonight, you are the latter.
It started as a small pit in your stomach that morning, that you braved through and ignored to the best of your ability, even as you said gentle 'no thank you's' to food offered by your co-workers and forced your brain to focus on work and not the never-ending abyss of dread in your abdomen. Then, it became a tear or two on your way home, that you vehemently wiped away and pretended was never there because it couldn't be. 
Then you were showering to get your mind off things — a stupid decision, really. For your brain was latching on to every awful emotion it had felt thus far today, and you were stepping out of the shower with an even heavier heart, and your hands were wrapping around your now goosebump riddled body, as you were sinking to the floor in a ball.
And maybe hours passed by you. Maybe days — it certainly felt that way. Maybe it was only a mere five minutes. But your loud sobs felt like they took an achingly long time to slow and quiet down, until they were falling into ugly sniffles of the snot on your face, and a raging headache behind your eyes. 
Loud sobs — scream sobs, really — had a lot of disadvantages. The aftermath feeling of embarrassment of screaming at your brain that refused to simply shut up, the scratch at your throat from every sound you ripped from it. The audio block it gave you from the rest of the world. For you truly were in your own universe when you were howling alone in the comfort of your bathroom walls.
So much so, that the familiar sound of a door opening and closing, and a bag being placed down by the side of it, went entirely unnoticed to you. Footsteps against your apartment's wooden flooring weren't picked up, nor were the first two knocks on your bathroom door. By the third, you were blubbering through saliva and snot, and you had heard it. Followed by a very gentle calling of your name, that had your heart clenching within your chest for a new reason. 
He had said he was coming home tomorrow. Which almost always meant he wouldn't be home for another three days, and so, in your mind, you thought bawling that night could be a secret kept between you and your tiles. 
Apparently not. 
He called your name again when you didn't reply, an added hint of desperation in his voice. Trembling, you stood, your limbs feeling as though they were creaking while you straightened them out. And you didn't bother about the towel sitting in a crumpled heap on the floor, nor the pile of your clean clothes sitting on the countertop. In fact, you didn't bother about anything as a shaking hand twisted the doorknob and pulled it open.
In an instant, his worried frown deepened, and eyes that might usually drink in the sight of your naked body beautifully, now didn't wander further than the scarlet scratch marks along your neck — blood vessels risen to the surface from how fragile that part of you was. He exhaled, and took a hesitating step towards you. One you welcomed by remaining planted in your spot — you didn't know if you could move, though. 
"Can I ask what's wrong, or do you simply want a hug?" 
Both, you wanted to say. Both, but also neither. 
You didn’t say that. Instead, you said, "Hug."
He hardly took a second to register what you'd said before his arms were wrapping around you. If he found the slightly damp state of your skin annoying, he didn't comment on it. He didn't say much at all, as he enveloped you into his body, a hand securing itself on the back of your head, and his chin resting atop your head. 
Water dripped uncomfortably to the floor, splattering on the tiles and his shoes, being the only sound aside from your irregular hiccups and sniffles. His button-up was wet from your tears and your body, and you could almost hear his complaints about it, if this were any other day. 
Minutes passed, and even though you didn't want to, you pulled back, feeling his hands slip around to your waist and hold you benevolently. Your own hands reached up to your face to wipe away tears, an embarrassed laugh escaping your lips. 
"This is pathetic," you said, fingers digging into the corners of your stinging eyes. 
"How?" he asked you.
"I didn't think you'd be home to see me having a mental breakdown."
A smile that didn't quite reach his eyes appeared on his lips. "Well, I am." Fingers squeezed your waist reassuringly. "Do you wanna talk about it?"
You shrugged, wordlessly, your eyes dropping from his face to the damp spot on his chest from where your face had once been, heart stuttering. 
"We don't have to, honey," he said. "But it might help."
"I know it might," you muttered. 
He was silent, as were you. A few more beats passed between you two, before you were turning around to pick up clothes you had left for yourself on the counter. You didn't really feel any different under his watchful gaze as you dressed yourself. Accustomed to the act, or simply too overwhelmed with another emotion, you didn't know. 
He followed you into the living room when you walked out there, and he sat down next to you on the couch you curled up on. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, and he lifted his head on each intake of breath you had, as if about to say something. But you never did. 
So, he took over.
"Did something happen today?" You shook your head, and he nodded his own. "Okay. This past week?" You shook your head again, because other than missing him while he had been stuck in Texas for a case, nothing had actually happened. 
You wished it had. Truly, you wished you had experienced a murder on your way to work, or a distant family member had passed away so you could blame this feeling on something other than memories simply resurfacing. 
You sniffled again. "You know," you began, voice thick and wobbly from the lump lodged in your throat. "When I was fourteen, I didn't think I'd ever be this old."
Your gaze lifted from your lap to look at him, and you let a helpless tear fall from one of your eyes when you locked eyes with him. He was confused, unsurprisingly so.
So, you continued. "I tried to kill myself. When I was fourteen."
He readjusted his posture, eyebrows falling into a more concerned state, and he was silent for so long you wondered if this was when he decided you were too much and too complicated for him to deal with. 
He didn't. "I didn't know," he said, instead. 
"I don't exactly advertise it," you replied, and even if it was an attempt at being light hearted, it fell flat. "I just realised I never thought I'd be this age," you continued when he hardly reacted, "and I've been really anxious and down all week, so I think that realisation kind of sent me over the edge."
"Are you happy you're at this age?" 
Hesitantly, but surely, you nodded your head. "I got to meet you."
His lips twitched, but a smile never crossed his face. "You should be happy for reasons more than just me."
"You are my reason for being happy," you argued. 
"And I'm glad to hear I make you happy, but I cannot be your only reason."
"Why not?"
"Because that's dependency." 
You short-circuited, and he sighed upon realising the way you were taking his words — maybe not the smartest thing he could've said to his still tear-stricken-faced girlfriend. 
"What I mean is you should have other areas in your life that make you happy. Not just me."
"I like my job," you mumbled, gaze relocating to your lap. "And my friends."
"Great," he said, and you could feel his weight shifting on the couch as he nudged closer to you. "As long as I'm not your reason for living."
Your eyebrows furrowed. "You've been my reason for living since we started dating. Why is it different now?"
"I didn't know I was your reason for living until now."
"So if you are, then what? You leave me?" 
"No," his response was so immediate you were sure you could feel the whiplash, and he ran a hand down his face with an exasperated sigh. "I don't want to fight with you when you're like this."
"I don't want to fight with you either," you agreed, fidgeting with your fingers in your lap. "I'm sorry I'm co-dependent."
He didn't respond for a while, mulling everything you two had shared and now, your apology, over in his head. You sat, anxiously, as minutes ticked by until he was puffing his cheeks to let out air, and standing up from the couch. 
He turned to you. "I love you, you know that," he began, and even before he had a chance to finish, you were already drowning him out, world crumbling around you as tears welled back up in your eyes. Maybe if you weren't as emotional as you were that night, your vision wouldn't have already gone blurry, and your heart wouldn't be shattering in your chest already. 
"But?" you countered, a sob escaping you at the end of the word.
He froze at the sound of it, his eyebrows turning in to each other, "Sorry?"
"You love me, but?"
"I don't understand."
"I'm sitting here, sobbing really violently and I look hideous, and you've just discovered I'm co-dependent, and you don't like that about me, so now you're telling me that you love me, but this isn't going to work out, and I need to work on myself before I get into another relationship, and you hope I can find happiness, and—"
"—What are you talking about?" he cut your ranting off, blinking a few times, confused. 
"Is that not what's happening?" 
"No?"
"Oh."
You stared at him, and he stared at you, and you felt your heart slowly pick itself back up from the pits of your stomach, each piece mending itself back together. He wasn't breaking up with you.
"I wasn't going to say that at all. Please don't put words in my mouth."
"Sorry," you said, though it wasn't very sincere. He crouched down in front of you, hands finding your fidgeting ones to hold them.
"Can I finish what I'm going to say before you cut me off this time?" Wordlessly, you nodded your head, and so he continued. "I love you, and you know that, and I don't want you to think I'm upset or mad at you for being codependent. You're allowed to not know how to navigate a relationship. But—"
"—There it is—" he glared with no real heat at you, and your lips twitched "—Sorry."
"But I need you to communicate with me. I'm going to inevitably do things that upset you, because you're co-dependent. We need to figure those things out, because a lot of the time you will respond unhealthily, and knowing what I know now, I don't want to be a trigger in any way."
"You won't be a trigger," you mumbled, and he shot you a pointed look, and your shoulders deflated. "I just feel stupid communicating things like that. Like, oh, I'm sad because my boyfriend is out of state for work and he's super busy and not responding to my messages so I think he might hate me."
"That isn't stupid."
"Yes it is!"
He said your name, eyebrows risen, and he shook his head. "You're upset about something. That isn't a stupid thing at all."
"It feels stupid."
"Okay, well, how about the next time I'm away on a case and not replying and you miss me, which is what that crazy, sad, completely reasonable phenomenon is called, by the way, you communicate that with me, and you see how I respond?"
"What if you tell me to go fuck myself?" 
He didn't even need to verbally deny your words for you to know that that response was completely out of character for him. All it took was one simple look, and you were diffidently smiling and averting your gaze, mumbling a quiet, "Okay."
And yes, the next time he was out of the state and you missed him, as he so kindly put it, you told him. And he spent three hours on the phone that night with you, reassuringly expressing how much he loved you, and how little he hated you.
your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡
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lixzey · 1 year ago
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mine, forever mine.
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Timothée couldn't help but smile as he watched his girlfriend, Y/N, sleep peacefully. She had looked so tired that he hadn't had the heart to wake her up, even though they had planned to go stargazing tonight.
He sat beside her, taking in her beauty and breathing in the smell of her. Timothée's heart thundered in his chest as he watched her sleep, her gentle breaths like a soothing melody to his ears. In the darkness of the night, he couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and admiration for the woman who lay beside him. She was like a delicate flower, beautiful yet strong, fragile yet resilient. As he traced his fingers over her skin, he wondered how he had been lucky enough to find her in the chaos of their world. Her laughter was contagious, and her smile could brighten up even the darkest of days. She had this way of making him feel like he was the only person in the world, and he loved her for that.
Timothée remembered how they met; fate had intervened in the most unexpected way, and he was grateful for that every single day. She was his best friend, his confidante, and his lover, all rolled into one. He couldn't imagine his life without her. When they first met five years ago, Timothée thought that she was way out of his league. Saoirse had convinced him to go out with one of her friends for lunch, and it was love at first sight. Timothée remembered that day vividly. He had been so nervous; his palms were sweating, but he was determined to make a good impression. He had put on his best outfit and made sure he was impeccably groomed. When she arrived, it was like the sun had suddenly come out and lit up the entire room. She was so beautiful and graceful, like an angel that fell from heaven, and he could hardly take his eyes off of her. Somehow, she had been able to see past his awkwardness and insecurity and accept him, no questions asked. She had quickly put him at ease with her warm personality and friendly smile.
It was like a spark of electricity that lit up his world, and he never looked back. He had never felt so alive before, and he knew that he was meant to spend his life with her. From their very first date, Timothée and Y/n had created the type of bond that most people spend their entire lives searching for. It was clear that they had a connection that would never be broken, no matter the circumstance.
Timothée admired how Y/n seemed to find happiness in the simplest things, always appreciating the beauty and little wonders that life offered. Y/n didn't deserve to get all of this hate, she was the purest soul. She taught him to slow down and accept life's imperfections, something he had struggled with in the past. Every time he looked at her, he thought the same thing: how lucky he was to have her in his life. For as long as he had known her, she was soft yet resilient. She had compassion and creativity.
Timothée was beyond grateful to Saoirse for setting them up in the most unexpected way. He couldn’t imagine his life without her. Y/n completed him in ways he never knew were possible. She knew his deepest fears and his darkest secrets, and yet she loved him unconditionally. She was his rock, his safe haven, and his home.
There were so many times that Timothée was certain she was going to walk out of his life. His career always got in the way of their time for each other. He always asked himself why she was still with him after all of the shit he'd put her through, like that one time when Y/n told him she was going to make dinner for him and completely forgot. But despite his shortcomings, Y/n stayed. She loved him because of who he was, and she assured him she was not going anywhere. Timothée was sure that his woman must have the patience of a saint, because sometimes it terrified him.
Timothée wanted to show her off and brag to the world about her. He wanted to tie the knot with her and spend the rest of his life with her. But his management stood in the way of that. He imagined them sitting on the porch of a cozy house, holding hands as they watched the sun set over the horizon while their children ran around, chasing each other through the yard. He couldn't imagine anyone else he'd spend the rest of his life with.
Suddenly, he had an idea.
I'm going to show her off, whether they like it or not.
Sighing, he leaned in to kiss her forehead. “Thank you for loving me, mon amour. I'm going to make it up to you. I love you.”
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“Where are you taking me, baby?“ You asked as you fidgeted with the cloth that covered your eyes. “Is the blindfold really necessary?” 
Timothée chuckled. “Be patient, mon amour. We're almost there; just hang in here tight."
“Can you give me a clue where you're taking me? Come on, babyyy!” You whined, your nose scrunching in annoyance, making your boyfriend laugh.
You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Fine, laugh.”
It's been a week since the article blew up. You didn't give it any more attention; instead, you focused on your boyfriend, giving him all the love he deserves. You spent the week cooking for him, which he highly appreciated after a long day of working on the go.
Now, your boyfriend is taking you somewhere blindfolded. You had no idea where he was taking you, but knowing your boyfriend, it was another one of his surprises.
Suddenly, the car stopped abruptly. You heard your boyfriend get out of the driver's seat before opening the door on the passenger side.
"You ready, mon amour?"
“I can't see a thing; I'm absolutely ready.” You rolled your eyes at him—not that he could see it, though.
“There's my sarcastic girl.” Timothée chuckled, taking your hand in his and leading you out of the car.
Timothée slowly led you from behind, telling you when to turn and when to walk straight. After what felt like hours, Timothée finally instructed you to stop. You felt the soft grass beneath your feet and heard the faint background hum of a crowd of people. Finally, someone removed the blindfold, and you blink several times, trying to adjust to the sudden brightness. When your eyes finally adjusted, your breath caught in your throat.
The entire gazebo was lit up with twinkling lights, like thousands of stars had been scattered across the ground. Rose petals decorated the entire path leading to the middle. Timothée's family stood beside yours with huge grins plastered on their faces. Both yours and Timothée's friends were also there, smiling brightly. Bystanders stood around with cameras everywhere, trying to capture the moment. Suddenly, your eyes widened when your eyes landed on a familiar brunette; Kylie Jenner was smiling at you from the sidelines, giving you a thumbs up and silently urging you to go to your boyfriend.
You slowly walked towards your boyfriend, tears shining in your eyes as you realized what was happening. Timothée grabbed your hands, and life began to blur out around you as he began to speak.
“The very first time I laid eyes on you, I knew you were the one. You looked like an angel that fell from heaven, and I could hardly take his eyes off of you. You have this way of making me feel like I'm the only guy in the world. How have I been so lucky to find you amidst the chaos of the world? Your smile could brighten up even the darkest of days. You were like a spark of electricity that lit up my world. You taught me to slow down and accept life's imperfections. I can't imagine a life without you, mon amour. You are my rock, my safe haven, and my home.” His voice was shaky, but his words were clear and true.
Timothée fell on a bent knee, a beautiful diamond ring in his hand. His eyes were full of love and admiration. “So what do you say, my beautiful angel? Will you marry me? ” 
Tears welled up in your eyes as you gazed into Timothée's green eyes. “Yes,“ you whispered, your voice barely audible over the noise of the crowd around you.
“Yes, I will marry you!” You threw your arms around him, feeling his warmth and the beat of his heart against your chest. The crowd erupted into cheers and applause, and you felt as if you were floating on cloud nine. You leaned in close to Timothée and whispered, “I love you, Timothée Chalamet,” and you meant it with all your heart and more.
Timothée slipped the ring onto your finger, and the two of you shared a kiss that felt like forever.
You couldn't believe that you were engaged to the man of your dreams, the man who had swept you off your feet and made her believe in true love. You looked around at the smiling faces surrounding the two of you, feeling overwhelmed with happiness and gratitude.
“I hope you get used to my fans looking at you, mon amour.” Timothée chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I want to take you around the world. They don't have to understand. I'm going to rub it in their face that I put a ring on your hand.”
You giggled, kissing his nose. “That'll take a bit of getting used to.”
“I'm going to show you off, whether they like it or not.”
“You're the one.” You whispered, before capturing his lips in yours. “Mine, forever mine.”
You couldn't wait to spend the rest of your life with him, the man you love, your soon-to-be husband.
Your fiancé, your future, your Timothée, yours. 
@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @tchalamss @tchalamss @ashlynnmalfoy @crazycat-ladys-blog @michakune @mxltifxnd0m @spencerr3idd @dangelnleif @sthkate @ferrjulie @imnotoverlyobsessive @mel-vaz @elsagreeer @lovely-maryj @meowmeowmau @bobthe-turmpetman29 @saintcosette @this-is-me-lolol
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saturnrings77 · 6 months ago
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"and i got eyes on the back of my head, i got eyes everywhere so i know where you go"
after snorting a line, rafe threw his head back, his pupils blown, a lazy smile on his face. he chuckles at the high taking over him as he closes his eyes and rests his head on the back of the couch. as the music faded away, he heard the sweet sound of laughter, a sound he had never heard before. his eyes shot open only a moment later, feeling a strong urge. he lifted his head up with a jerk and his eyes immediately zeroed in on you.
your hair was blown out prettily, falling to rest just around your midsection. you were adorned from head to toe in the finest gold jewellery you could owned, from necklaces to diamond rings. you were kook princess after all. your body was clad in a silky, pink, flowy dress, the hem ending at the tips of your fingertips. your fingers were manicured in almond-shaped acrylics glazed with pearl iridescent polish.
everyone else faded around you. he could only hear your soft laughter, watching your head get thrown back by whatever your friend says. watches you gracefully walk around greeting everyone you knew. rafe was in awe. no one knew that, not at the way his eyes were intently looking at you. he seemed more agitated than anything.
"what y'looking at, country club?" barry nudges rafe with a smirk, eyes trying to focus in on what rafe was glaring at. rafe's head ticks in annoyance."nothin' " he doesn't even look towards barry's direction.
"kook princess, huh?" barry chuckles but rafe sees it as nothing but a threat. his hands come up to lock around barry's neck.
barry raises both his hands in surrender. "woah, there, country club. y'don't gotta worry about me ."
rafe wanted you and he would stop at nothing to have you.
you don't think much of it when the house next door that had been for sale for a while had been bought. you smiled in delight when you noticed a moving truck unloading boxes. you took it upon yourself to welcome your new neighbour by baking some brownies only to find out that rafe had moved in next door.
the moment he found out you had a car, he placed a tracker in such a hidden spot, even the mechanics wouldn't see it.
he befriended your older brother just to go to your house and watch you prance around in the skimpiest bikinis and pyjama sets.
he'd sneak into your room when your brother is busy in the bathroom and go through your underwear drawer or dirty laundry just to steal some of your panties. you think nothing of it when your underwear goes missing because everything goes missing on laundry day.
from staying over at your house so much, he'd come to learn your schedule. he'd even go as far to stage run-ins with you, wondering how you guys are coincidentally at the same place at the same time. one meeting that really irked you was how he was just walking past your nail place in the cut knowing damn well he'd never go near that place.
the more you guys ran into each other, the slitter your outfits would get. tighter tops and skirts. your tops would sometimes be lingerie especially at parties. you had caught onto his antics.
little did he know that you wanted him too.
1K notes · View notes
callmedaleelah · 1 month ago
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modern!sukuna ryomen x shy!reader
sometimes hurtful comments are inevitable, trying to understand that it was a light joke doesn’t make the hurts gone
warnings : dom!sukuna, sub!reader, angst to comfort, no (y/n) mentioned, writing in second person pov, english is not my first language
[ masterlist ] | [ ask daleelah go to box box 🐭 ]
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The hum of the car engine filled the air, a constant, soothing sound that contrasted the swirl of nervous energy churning in your stomach. You sat quietly in the passenger seat, hands folded neatly in your lap, fingers gently twisting the fabric of your dress. Sukuna, as always, looked completely unbothered. His focus was on the road, one hand resting casually on the wheel while the other draped over the console between you.
You stole a glance at him, feeling the usual mixture of awe and intimidation that his presence brought. Everything about him was sharp—his jawline, his eyes, his mind. He commanded respect without even trying, a force of nature that made people fall in line without question. It was no wonder that people at work feared him, or at least treaded carefully around him. Sukuna was known to be tough, short-tempered, and damn near impossible to please. Yet somehow, with you, he was different. You didn’t always understand why, but you knew he liked the way you were—quiet, obedient, a perfect contrast to his dominant personality.
Today, though, was different. Today, he was taking you to meet his work colleagues for the first time. Sukuna rarely mingled outside of work, and when he did, it was with a close-knit group of men who, like him, commanded attention. You were nervous. Not because you didn’t want to meet them, but because you wanted to make a good impression. You didn’t want to be the weak link, the one who couldn’t handle the intense atmosphere that undoubtedly followed Sukuna wherever he went.
“Don’t worry about them,” he had told you earlier, his tone dismissive, as though your concerns were trivial. “Their opinions don’t matter.”
You knew he meant it, and that should’ve been enough to ease your nerves, but it didn’t. You wanted to make him proud. You always wanted to make him proud.
As the car slowed at a stoplight, Sukuna finally broke the silence. His voice was deep, low, commanding your attention. “Listen,” he began, his eyes still on the road ahead. “There’s a few people you’ll meet today.”
You turned your head slightly, eyes fixed on him, waiting for more. You’d never met any of his colleagues before—he liked to keep his personal and work life separate. Today was an exception, and that only made you more anxious.
The car came to a stop outside the restaurant. Sukuna parked, cutting the engine, and silence fell over the space once more. You immediately reached for the rearview mirror, checking your reflection. The soft makeup you’d applied earlier was still intact, but you felt the need to freshen up, your nerves spiking as the reality of meeting his colleagues hit you again.
Your eyes drifted to the red lipstick in your bag—the one Sukuna loved. It was bold, a stark contrast to your usual soft and neutral colors, but whenever you wore it, he always told you how beautiful you looked. His favorite. You applied a fresh coat, feeling a small boost of confidence as the rich color bloomed on your lips.
“I’m ready,” you said softly, turning to him with a nervous smile, hoping for his approval.
Sukuna glanced at you, but instead of the usual compliment, his expression darkened. His brow furrowed, eyes narrowing as they fixed on your lips. The shift in his mood was instant, the tension palpable.
“You’re not going to get out of the car with that red lipstick,” he said, his voice low and stern.
Your smile faltered, confusion flooding your mind. His tone was sharp, like a blade cutting through the air between you. “B–but why? Don’t you like it?” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly under the weight of his intense gaze.
Sukuna leaned closer, his frown deepening. His thumb reached out, brushing lightly across your cheek in a gesture that should’ve been comforting, but his words held a firm edge. “I do. I really do. But that’s only for me to see. You can’t let them see you in that sexy color, with those sexy lips, woman.”
Your heart pounded in your chest. Sukuna’s possessiveness wasn’t new, but it still had the power to catch you off guard. He wasn’t asking. He was telling you, and there was no room for argument. But you didn’t understand. You had worn it for him—for his approval, for his eyes. Didn’t that matter?
“But… I wore it for you,” you said softly, your fingers trembling slightly as you fidgeted with the hem of your dress. “You said I look beautiful with this color.”
Sukuna’s small smile faded entirely, his expression growing serious. He cupped your face in his large hand, pulling you closer until your foreheads nearly touched. His breath was warm against your skin as he spoke, his tone leaving no room for misinterpretation. “You heard me, babe,” Sukuna’s voice was a deep rumble, his words deliberate, “you can’t let them see you in it. And I don’t want to repeat it.”
Your chest tightened at his words, and you swallowed hard, nodding in quiet submission. This was what he liked most about you—your ability to listen, to follow, to do as he said without argument. It was one of the reasons he kept you so close, why you were the one person in his life he softened for. But now, in this moment, all you could feel was the sharp edge of his possessiveness.
His thumb brushed against your bottom lip for a brief second before he pulled back, releasing your face. His gaze lingered on you, his frown still etched into his sharp features. You bit your lip, feeling the weight of disappointment settle in your chest. You hated feeling like this—unsure of yourself, second-guessing every move. You’d wanted to look good for him, to make him proud, but instead, you felt small under the weight of his stern gaze.
Sukuna was already shifting to get out of the car, unbuckling his seatbelt with a practiced motion. Before he could step out, he threw one more comment over his shoulder, the tease in his voice barely masking the possessiveness underneath. “Unless, of course, you want to seduce my friends and see their boners, it’s up to you.”
Your face burned at his crude words, a mix of embarrassment and frustration bubbling up inside you. You quickly turned your head, pretending to rummage through your purse for the makeup wipe, desperate to wipe the lipstick away. Your fingers trembled as you found the small packet, your mind racing. You could feel the hurt settling in your chest, heavy and unshakable, as you quickly wiped the bold red from your lips. You didn’t want to argue with him. You didn’t want to push back. But his teasing words had stung, leaving an ache that you couldn’t quite shake.
The glossy shade of your natural lips returned as you swiped a clear gloss over them, trying to regain a bit of composure. The red had made you feel bold, confident. Without it, you felt exposed, vulnerable, like a shadow of yourself.
Sukuna had already stepped out of the car, moving with his usual confidence. He didn’t look back as he rounded the vehicle to your side, but you knew he expected you to follow without question. By the time he opened your door, you were doing your best to smooth the hurt expression from your face, forcing a small, polite smile.
You stepped out of the car, your eyes instinctively dropping to the ground as you adjusted your dress. Sukuna extended his arm toward you, and you immediately took it, your hand resting lightly on his bicep as he led you toward the restaurant entrance. His presence was a double-edged sword—comforting, yet overwhelming. You were always aware of the power he held, the way he dominated any room he entered. Now, as you clung to his arm, you wondered how much his colleagues would see you as an extension of that power or if they’d see you as something weaker, something softer.
As you neared the door, Sukuna’s hand briefly tightened on your arm, pulling you a bit closer. “You’re with me,” he said, his voice low, meant only for you. “Don’t give a damn what anyone thinks. Just remember that.”
You nodded, feeling the familiar warmth of his control wash over you, comforting yet confining at the same time. You’d grown used to it by now—the way he shielded you, the way he wanted you all to himself. His approval was all you wanted, and even now, despite the ache in your chest, you clung to the hope that you could still make him proud.
As you stepped into the restaurant, the shift in atmosphere was palpable. The room was filled with the low hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses and cutlery, and a sense of sophistication that immediately made your nerves spike again. Sukuna, as usual, was unbothered. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on a table near the back, where a few familiar faces were already gathered.
“There,” he muttered, nodding toward the group. You recognized them immediately from his earlier descriptions. Toji sat with his arms crossed, his muscular frame practically commanding the entire corner of the restaurant. Suguru leaned back in his chair, a small, knowing smile on his face as if he was already reading the situation before you even approached. And then there was Satoru—impossible to miss, his striking features and confident grin setting him apart from the rest. Nanami, however, was more subdued, quietly sipping his drink, his sharp eyes barely lifting from the table as you and Sukuna approached.
The moment you stepped closer, you could feel their eyes on you—curious, assessing, waiting for your next move. Your grip on Sukuna’s arm tightened, and he gave you a slight glance, as if to remind you to stay close.
“Finally,” Toji said, his voice rough and unapologetic as he eyed Sukuna. “Thought you were ditching us.”
“Had to bring the girl,” Sukuna replied, his voice cool and detached, though there was a possessiveness in the way he spoke about you. He pulled out a chair for you before taking his own seat, his hand brushing lightly against your back as you sat down beside him. The simple touch grounded you, reminding you of your place at his side.
Suguru’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than the others, his smile widening slightly. “You must be special if Sukuna’s bringing you around us.”
You blushed under the attention, your fingers tightening around the edge of the table as you fought to keep your composure. Sukuna shot Suguru a sharp look, one that immediately silenced whatever teasing comment might’ve followed. His gaze shifted back to you, a silent reassurance in his eyes.
Satoru leaned forward, his grin playful, clearly enjoying the tension. “So, Sukuna’s finally letting us meet the girl, huh? I gotta say, I’m impressed. Didn’t think you’d find someone who could handle you.”
“Shut it, Satoru,” Sukuna growled, his voice holding an edge of warning.
You lowered your gaze, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment. You weren’t used to being the center of attention, especially not in a group like this. It was overwhelming, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that you didn’t quite belong. But as always, Sukuna’s presence grounded you, his dominance over the situation a reminder that you were under his protection.
The rest of the meal went by in a blur of conversation, laughter, and occasional teasing. You stayed quiet, content to observe and take in the dynamics around you. Sukuna’s hand remained close, whether on your back or brushing against your arm. It was his way of keeping you anchored, reminding you of your place at his side. And despite the tension and occasional embarrassment, there was a certain comfort in knowing that, as long as you were with him, you didn’t need to worry about what anyone else thought.
The car ride was quiet, far too quiet for Sukuna’s liking. Normally, after a social event like this, you'd be filling the space with small comments—complaining about how overwhelming it was, laughing about someone’s joke, or complaining about how tired you felt. But today, you sat curled up in the passenger seat, eyes glued to the window, your lips pressed in a tight line. There wasn’t a single word from you.
He glanced over at you a few times, wondering if it was just the usual post-social exhaustion. He knew that meeting new people drained your energy, and today’s lunch had been a lot, with all of his friends and their partners gathered. But something about your silence didn’t sit right with him. You weren’t just quiet—you were withdrawn, avoiding him in a way that made the back of his neck prickle with unease.
But he kept quiet, not wanting to push. Sukuna knew better than to force anything out of you, especially in this state. Instead, he waited. He was good at that—waiting until the moment was right, until you were ready.
The tension in the air between you two was palpable as you both walked into the house, neither of you saying much. You immediately went to the bedroom, slipping out of your shoes and beginning to take off your earrings. Sukuna watched you for a moment from the doorway, his brow furrowed in thought. Something was definitely off.
He headed to the bathroom, taking a quick shower, letting the water run over him as he tried to shake off the nagging worry that gnawed at him. Maybe he was overthinking. Maybe you were just tired. Maybe…
But when he came out, dressed in the pajamas you’d picked out for him—something soft and comfortable, a stark contrast to his usual sharp attire—he found you still sitting at the vanity, quietly putting away your jewelry. The air between you was still thick with unspoken tension.
Sukuna approached you, standing behind you and leaning down to press a soft kiss to the top of your head. He looked at your reflection in the mirror, his eyes tracing the delicate lines of your face. “You’ve been too quiet,” he murmured, his voice low as he gently wrapped his hands around your neck, massaging the tension out of your muscles in that way you always liked. He could feel the stiffness in your shoulders, the way you seemed to tense even more under his touch.
You sighed softly but didn’t look up at him. “I’m just tired,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. You turned your head slightly to place a small, soft kiss on his jaw.
It wasn’t convincing, and Sukuna could feel it. He could see it in the way your eyes darted away, in the way you avoided looking at him in the mirror for too long. Something was wrong, and it was gnawing at him, but he didn’t press. Not yet.
When you moved to the bed, scrolling aimlessly through your phone, Sukuna followed you, sitting beside you, his eyes still lingering on your face, searching for something—an explanation, a sign, anything. His mind raced, thinking over the events of the day, trying to figure out what could have caused this shift.
“Was it because I didn’t let you wear the red lipstick?” he asked suddenly, his tone cautious. His eyes softened as he waited for your response, wondering if he had unintentionally hurt your feelings. He knew how much you liked wearing that shade, and he had been the one to tell you to tone it down today. But that couldn’t be it… could it?
You barely glanced at him, shaking your head. “No. I’m just tired.”
You turned your attention back to your phone, and Sukuna felt a flicker of frustration in his chest, though he quickly pushed it down. You were always quiet around new people, but this… this was different.
“Can you come cuddle me, please?” you asked suddenly, your voice softer now, almost fragile.
Sukuna let out a soft sigh, shaking off his thoughts. Maybe he was overthinking things. Maybe you just needed some time. He slipped into bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close, spooning you from behind. He could feel the tension in your body, but he didn’t say anything, just rested his chin on your shoulder and held you close.
As you lay there, curled up in his arms, Sukuna couldn’t help but think about the lunch, about how you’d avoided his gaze, how you’d been distant the whole time. He knew you better than anyone, knew when something was bothering you. And though he tried to tell himself that it was nothing, that you were just tired, the feeling in his chest told him otherwise.
But for now, he held you close, his hand gently rubbing your arm, trying to soothe the unease he felt creeping up inside him. He knew you’d talk when you were ready.
The morning after that quiet night, Sukuna woke up to find your side of the bed cold and empty. He groaned, instinctively reaching for his phone and finding a text from you:
Morning, love. Pilates class today! Didn’t want to wake you—see you later! xx
Sukuna buried his face into the pillow with a huff, feeling a strange bitterness creep in. Normally, you’d rouse him with soft kisses, lingering hugs, and sleepy whispers before heading out. Today, though, you’d slipped away quietly. The day already felt off.
Later that evening, Sukuna returned home, still feeling the nagging sting of the morning. The house was peaceful, and as he stepped into the living room, there you were—curled up on the couch, reading the new book he'd bought for you last week. You had your reading glasses on, a sight that never failed to make you look irresistibly cute. Sukuna couldn’t resist; he leaned down, kissing your cheek and giving you a soft peck on the lips.
“Hey,” you greeted him warmly, looking up from your book. “Hard day?”
Sukuna only groaned in response, plopping down next to you on the couch, his expression still a bit grim.
“You left me alone in bed this morning,” he mumbled, his voice laced with playful complaint but also something deeper.
“Sorry,” you said, offering a small, apologetic smile. “I had pilates class.” Leaning over, you kissed the corner of his lips, hoping to soothe his mood. “I’ll go get dinner ready. You can shower in the meantime.”
Sukuna’s eyes lingered on you as you moved toward the kitchen. His frustration from earlier lingered, but he pushed it down and went to shower, letting the warm water relax his tense muscles. When he came back, refreshed but still unsettled, he found you arranging his dinner on the table. The aroma filled the room, and he approached you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing a soft kiss to your neck. You giggled, your usual light-hearted response, telling him to sit and enjoy his meal.
But as Sukuna sat down, his eyes scanned the table, and his brows furrowed. There was only one plate. He looked up just as you placed a glass of water in front of him, and then you sat across the table with a soft smile, hands resting on your lap.
“Where’s your plate?” he asked, his tone casual but his eyes sharp.
“Oh, I already ate before you got back,” you answered with a smile, trying to appear nonchalant.
Sukuna’s gaze darkened slightly, his jaw tensing. “Why?”
“I was… hungry?” you replied, your voice unsure.
Sukuna took a slow sip of water, trying to calm the growing frustration in his chest. “Yeah, no. You never miss a chance to have dinner with me,” he said, his eyes narrowing slightly.
You fidgeted in your seat, the weight of his stare making you feel small. “But I was hungry, Kuna…”
He exhaled sharply, setting his glass down. His voice was quieter now but firmer, edged with concern. “You fell asleep on this table once, waiting for me after overtime. Your stomach hurt because I took so long, but you didn’t eat until I got home.” His words hung heavy in the air. “Now you’re telling me you couldn’t wait?”
Your smile faltered. The light mood you had tried to create dissipated, and you saw the shift in his expression. He knew something was wrong, even if you didn’t want to admit it. You had never been one to open up easily, but Sukuna also knew when to push, especially when you were hurting.
“I was just hungry,” you repeated, but your voice was weaker this time, barely above a whisper, your eyes lowered like a kicked puppy.
Sukuna reached across the table, his large hand gently squeezing yours. His touch was soft but commanding. “Tell me what’s really bothering you.”
You hesitated, unable to meet his gaze. The words you had been holding onto since yesterday weighed heavily on your tongue, but you didn’t know how to explain it. You knew he had been joking, but his offhand remark had hit you harder than you wanted to admit.
Finally, after a long pause, you spoke, your voice small and shaky. “I didn’t like what you said yesterday. About the red lipstick…”
Sukuna’s brow furrowed, listening intently as you continued, the words spilling out faster now.
“When you said I could wear it if I wanted to seduce your colleagues... it made me feel like a slut.” Your voice cracked slightly. “I just wanted to wear it for you—because you said it makes me prettier.”
Sukuna's face softened immediately, his hand squeezing yours a little tighter, pulling you closer. “Okay, babe,” he murmured, his voice deep and calm, cutting through your hurried explanation. “Breathe. You’re talking too fast.”
You took a deep breath, the weight of your confession still heavy in the air. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice trembling.
“No,” Sukuna said firmly, cutting you off. He stood up, tugging your hand gently, and you followed his lead until you were seated on his lap, his arms wrapping around you protectively. He tilted your chin up so you were forced to meet his eyes. His gaze was serious but full of warmth and understanding.
“If you ever hear me say something like that again, you can slap me right there and then. Do you understand?” His voice was low, each word slow and deliberate, as if he needed you to truly take in every syllable.
You nodded, feeling shy under his intense stare, but a warmth spread through your chest at his words.
He brought your hand to his face, guiding your fingers to gently rub his cheek. “I never want you to feel like that again,” he whispered, leaning in, his lips brushing softly against yours before deepening the kiss. His hands held you securely, and for a moment, all the tension, the doubt, and the hurt from the past few days melted away.
In his embrace, you finally felt understood, his kiss telling you all the things words sometimes couldn’t.
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solxamber · 2 months ago
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⋆˚✿˖ Twisted Wonderland Masterlist I˖✿˚⋆
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Masterlist II
Heartslabyul
Trash Novel Chronicles: System vs World - Riddle x reader
You have a guilty pleasure: trashy villainess stories. So when you die a frankly, humiliating death, and end up in one of the worst ones you've had the pleasure of reading, you're in denial. Then the villain system shows up. Well, there goes your second chance at life So what do you do now? Do villainous things and cause as much chaos as you can, of course. And maybe, just maybe, bag the male lead, Riddle Rosehearts while you're at it.
This is Love - Riddle x Reader
3 times he notices your acts of love and realizes it doesn't have to be grand and overdramatic like the movies, it could just be like this– sweet and considerate.
Dragon's Favorite Sacrifice - Trey x Reader
Trey finds himself volunteering to be the human sacrifice to you, an ancient dragon, in place of his siblings. What he didn't expect was to become your housekeeper instead of being eaten.
Cocoa Conspiracy - Trey x reader {Request}
He knew you as his partner, the love of his life, but he didn't realize your real identity: a spy vying for pastry destruction.
Donuts and Dark Arts - Trey x reader
All Trey wanted to do was deliver the bread he was supposed to and be on his merry way. Instead, he stumbles on you... in the middle of a ritual?
Birthday Party - Trey x reader {Request}
Trey is more worried than suspicious when you keep disappearing and acting suspicious. He gets more worried when the rest of heartslabyul join in. (Spoiler alert: he doesn't need to be)
Crisis Averted - Cater x reader
After a royal screw up, Cater is left scrambling trying to fix his mistake before you find out. Best part? You've known what he did from the start and you think it's hilarious.
Moments in Bloom - Cater x reader
Cater’s life is a perfect illusion, curated with smiles and snapshots. But beneath the surface, he wonders—what would it be like to be truly seen? To finally stop pretending and let himself bloom?
Forgiveness - Deuce Spade x reader
When Deuce accidentally breaks an item that you treasured, he's worries that he's broken your trust as well. But there's nothing that can't be fixed with a hug and an apology.
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Savanaclaw
Knights and Oaths - Leona x reader
You come from a long line of knights that have served the rulers of the Savannah. But sometimes traditions are meant to change and the second prince is looking like someone worth changing them for.
Trash Novel Chronicles: Love Triangles and Royal Rumbles - Leona x reader
When you get isekai'd as the male lead in the novel where your favorite character, Leona Kingscholar is the second male lead, all that's left to do is rewrite the romance!
Burn Wild - Leona x reader
Always so close, yet so far away. Leona pushes it down—he keeps pushing and pushing, until one day, he lets it break.
Royal Scandal - Ruggie x reader (personal favorite)
You're being forced to marry someone to take the throne you've fought your entire life for. Okay, if that's how it is, you'll make sure to choose the one person here that your dearest parents will disapprove of the most.
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Octavinelle
Shark Tanks and Shady Deals - Azul x reader
After narrowly dodging a one-way trip to the sharks, you've hit rock bottom, career-wise. Enter Azul: your friendly (totally-not-shady) talent manager. In a moment of desperation, you sign with him. Wait, he's actually really good at this. Like, too good at this. Maybe the near-shark experience was just the universe’s weird way of setting you up?
Trash Novel Chronicles: Not Another Royal Mess - Azul x Reader
As a proofreader who gets isekai’d into a cringeworthy novel, you decide to take revenge on the heroine and male lead for their awful story. With Azul—who just wanted to sell you a magic rock—pulled into your chaos.
Love Bites - Floyd x reader
You like him quite a bit, you really do but you're really questioning your decisions after some time spent with him ends up sending you to the ER.
Match Made in Madness - Floyd x reader
Soulmates get updates of each other's lives through an overly enthusiastic dream narrator. What's worse is that your soulmate seems to be completely unhinged.
Witch, Please - Floyd x reader
You're the best witch to go to for getting the job done. Your potions? Absolutely foolproof. At least, that's what you thought until a certain Floyd Leech waltzed into your store.
Cakes and Crime - Jade x reader
After a long week of assignments and sleep deprivation, all you wanted to do was satisfy your craving for a specific pastry at your local shady café. What you didn't mean to do was accidentally order a hit on yourself.
Love in Contempt - Jade x reader
When you take your ex, Jade to court over a ceramic octopus, the reason he wants it so badly might be sweeter than you thought.
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Scarabia
Recipe for Love - Kalim x reader
You know you can't cook, your cat knows you can't cook, everyone who has seen your lunch box knows you can't cook. So why is Kalim so insistent on eating the monstrosities you conjure?
Rest Assured - Jamil x reader
4 times you see Jamil nearing his breaking point and the 1 time you intervene.
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Pomefiore
Trash Novel Chronicles: Please Let Me Live - Vil x reader (personal favourite)
You get isekai'd into the worst novel you've had the misfortune of reading because apparently your life is a cosmic joke. Now all you have to do is not act like the character you've possessed and it'll be fine, you think?
Your fiancé being Vil Schoenheit makes it a little harder to behave like a human being with functional braincells, but hey, atleast he likes you, you think?
Fairytales and Fever Dreams - Vil x Reader
When you decide to beg a fairy for help at your lowest point, you didn't expect that he'd decide to help you— at the cost of you making skincare for him.
Of Seashells and Sweet Nothings - Vil x Reader
You're cursed to love everyone except Vil, and he's cursed to love only you. And yet somewhere along the way, it seems the cursed gene has skipped you.
aka Merman! Vil x reader
Roommate Rumble - Vil x Reader
You and Vil end up as roommates due to administrative error. Unstoppable force (Vil's perfectionism) meets immovable object (your chaos). It ends up working out perfectly.
Date(?) Night - Rook x reader
Rook is convinced that you have feelings for him after your "date". You have no idea what he's talking about, considering that you've never been on a date with him.
Ruler of My Heart - Rook x Reader (personal favorite)
He has always pursued beauty, and he sees everything. But has he ever been seen?
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Ignihyde
Coughing up Love - Idia x reader
You don't think much of it when Idia starts acting weird because let's be real, that seems to be his default around you. Wait are those flowers he's coughing up?
Reaper's Guide to Romance- Idia x reader
When reaper Idia Shroud is assigned to collect your soul, he can't help but come up with increasingly ridiculous excuses to spare you.
Trash Novel Chronicles: I Want to Retire - Idia x reader
You write a novel that reads like a dumpster fire and while trying to delete the draft, you accidentally get isekai’d into it. Now, as the villainess you have to get Idia Shroud on your side as well as survive high society. You have your work cut out for you.
Hook, Line and Shy Guy - Idia x reader
Idia loves your shark tail. You think it's adorable.
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Diasomnia
Kidnapped(?) - Malleus x reader
You were sick of the taxes imposed by the aristocrats in your already poverty stricken village. Your idea of a solution? Kidnap their young master , and make them reduce taxes as the ransom, of course. Only problem is that you went into the wrong manor and kidnapped the wrong young master.
How Not to Court Your Crush: A Disaster in Six Acts - Malleus Draconia x reader
You're trying to court Malleus so why is he acting so weird? Malleus is trying to court you, so why are you acting so weird?
aka you try fae courtship and malleus tries human courtship, you both fail spectacularly.
Trash Novel Chronicles: Accidentally Falling For a Fae Prince - Malleus x reader
When you get dragged into a novel which ends with the heroine in a polycule with the most annoying men in literature, you decide that you're gonna skip town. ...Only to trip over the fae prince, Malleus Draconia.
How to Tame Your Dragon - Malleus x reader (personal favorite)
Since you and Malleus have gotten into a relationship, you've become a bona-fide dragon soother. But whenever you fumble, the entirety of NRC faces the consequences.
aka the 7 times you cause ecological disasters and the 1 time it works out for you.
Trash Novel Chronicles: I'd Rather Date the Male Lead's Dad - Lilia x reader
When you end up in your best friend's favourite but absurd novel about breaking a fae prince's curse, you didn't expect to get attached to his little family too. Even more unexpected? You fell for the male lead's dad, but hey, it looks like he likes you too.
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Others
Frights and Fancies - Skully J. Graves x reader
Doing Halloween prep with Skully! (This is Grim's Night before before Halloween) {written before the full event is out so might end up ooc}
Chasing Fairytales - Neige LeBlanche x Reader
Neige is convinced that you're either allergic to him specifically or he's done something to offend you with the way you're avoiding him. You're just trying not to get blinded by his smile.
Project Love - Rollo Flamme x reader
When your eccentric professor pairs you and Rollo up for a study on attachment types, you didn't realise how much it would change your lives.
Romance Roulette- Rollo Flamme x reader
You, Rollo's self-proclaimed bestfriend, have been trying to set him up with someone for the past few weeks. If all your plans fail, maybe you should do it yourself?
Homecoming - Rollo Flamme x reader
You come home after a long work trip. Rollo is happy to have you back.
Sweet Encounter - Rollo Flamme x reader
You really want the parfait that's exclusive to couples. So you you do what anyone would do, pretend a random stranger in the café is your partner of course.
Escape Route - Rollo Flamme x reader
You're stuck at a party that you frankly don't give a damn about. And Rollo Flamme looks like he would rather do anything else than be here, so you grab him and bounce.
Yours to Keep - Rollo Flamme x reader
Rollo is calm, collected and confident. Jealous? Rollo Flamme? No way! ...unless?
Stolen Kisses - Rollo Flamme x reader
5 times you kiss him and the 1 time he kisses you
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Multi Characters
Hanahaki with Overblot Gang
Making Up After an Argument with Overblot Gang + Rollo
Period Simulator with Adeuce + Overblot Gang + Rollo
Requests
Rook Hunt x reader (Shape-shifter! reader)
Malleus Draconia x Reader (24 Plum Blossom User! Reader)
All NRC + Staff + Rollo, Neige, Chen'ya (Wild cat beastman reader)
Dorm Leaders + Jamil (Colorblind reader)
Idia Shroud x reader (Sentient Otome Game NPC! reader) // Part 2
Azul Ashengrotto x reader (Insecure Mer-form Azul x reader, hurt/comfort)
All NRC + Staff + Rollo, Neige (White Rabbit! reader)
White Rabbit! Reader overblots
Aftermath of White Rabbit! Reader's Overblot
Epel, Vil x reader (Teaching Epel Capoeira)
Vil, (platonic) Crewel x reader (Fashion disaster reader)
Rest of the characters react to fashion disaster reader
Malleus Draconia x reader(Insecure reader, hurt/comfort, happy ending)
Lilia Vanrouge x reader (NPC! Reader)
Pomefiore x reader (Artist!Admirer! reader)
Heartslabyul, Octavinelle, Pomefiore + Che'nya (Absolem! reader)
Savanaclaw, Scarabia, Ignihyde, Diasomnia + NRC Staff + Neige (Absolem! reader)
Malleus, Vil, Jade with Angel!Reader
Jamil, Rook, Vil, Lilia with cherub! reader
Tweels with a strong reader
Idia x reader (Reader gets turned into a cat)
Jamil, Azul with a super talented reader
Lilia with a reader who behaves like General Lilia
Leona with an unhinged reader
Vil, Malleus with an unhinged reader
All NRC + Staff + Rollo (Reader shapeshifts according to emotion)
7th Overblot Aftermath - All NRC + Staff (Hurt/Comfort)
Rollo Flamme x reader / Part 2
Savanaclaw, Scarabia with a silly but mature reader
Ace, Deuce, Silver with artistic reader
Grim vs Cat (Idia x reader)
Deuce, Riddle, Ace, Epel with Pomefiore! reader
Jade, Jamil, Azul with 'The Cat'! Reader
Vil, Rook Idia with 'The Cat'! Reader
Delinquent Deuce x Delinquent reader
Pomefiore + Jamil with a Maternal! reader
All NRC(-Ortho), Rollo, Neige, Che'nya with M! Incubus! Reader
Trey, Jamil, Platonic Adeuce with Rich! reader
All NRC + Staff + Rollo, Neige, Najma Viper with Slime! reader
Skully J. Graves with a Huohuo! reader
Overblot gang + Ruggie with a Princess! Reader
Idia, Cater, Rollo comforting recovering reader (Warning: Mentions of SH)
Octavinelle with Shark! Reader
Sam x reader(platonic)
Skully J. Graves x reader (Double Halloween!)
Skully J. Graves x reader (ft. Sally!)
Octavinelle, Diasomnia x Freshwater Stingray! Reader
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misspygmypie · 3 months ago
Text
Meet & Greet... and more? Pt. 7
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader Words: 2332 Click here for Part 6
Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)
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Max wasn’t just any friend - he was a fellow former racer, gaming buddy and part of Lando’s team at Quadrant. Their history went way back to their childhood karting days and today he was about to meet Lando’s new little family.
Noah’s eyes sparkled with wonder at the sight of the go-karts when they were walking through the track. Lando walked right behind him, holding Y/N’s hand and guiding the little boy gently with the other.
“There he is,” Lando said, spotting Max near the Quadrant camera setup, laughing with some of their other members. Max caught sight of Lando and his grin widened, making his way over with his usual easygoing stride.
“Mate, finally,” Max greeted, pulling Lando into a brotherly embrace, then stepping back to look at Y/N and Noah. “And you must be Y/N and Noah I’ve heard so much about!”
“Nice to finally meet you, Max,” Y/N smiled warmly. “Lando’s told us all about you.”
Max pulled her into a quick hug and then crouched down to Noah’s level, his smile widening. “Hey there buddy, you know, Lando told me you’re really good at video games. Maybe even better than him, right?”
Noah giggled shyly, looking up at Lando for confirmation. Lando chuckled and nodded. “He’s a natural, he can game for hours.”
Max straightened up, turning his attention back to Lando. “Speaking of which, remember the time we were doing that endurance karting race and you insisted on pushing the limits every lap?”
Lando groaned, already knowing where Max was headed. “Oh no, not this story…”
Max smirked, clearly enjoying the chance to embarrass his friend. “So there we were, in this all-night karting race and Lando here was determined to beat my lap times. It was the middle of the night, pitch dark and he somehow managed to miss the pit entry and ended up driving straight into the team’s camping tent!”
Y/N burst out laughing, covering her mouth in surprise, while Noah’s eyes widened with curiosity. “Did you really drive into a tent, Lando?” Noah asked, his voice filled with awe.
Lando sighed dramatically but couldn’t help but laugh along. “Yeah, it wasn’t my finest moment. But in my defense, it was dark and I was just trying to keep up with Max.”
“Always trying to outdo me, even in the most ridiculous ways,” Max laughed, clapping Lando on the back. “And let’s not forget the time you tried to film a stunt for Quadrant, only to slip and end up flat on your back, live in front of thousands of viewers!”
Y/N raised an eyebrow at Lando, who was now blushing slightly. “Oh, so you’ve always been this smooth, huh?”
Lando groaned, covering his face with his hands. “Max, you’re supposed to make me look good in front of Y/N, not tell her about every time I’ve messed up!”
“Come on, that’s what friends are for! Besides, you’ve got to stay humble, right?” Max just grinned, clearly loving every moment of this. 
As they continued to chat, Max kept the stories coming, sharing tales of their karting days, their countless pranks on each other and the early days of Quadrant. With every story Y/N could see how deep their friendship ran and how much they genuinely enjoyed each other’s company.
Noah tugged on Max’s sleeve, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Can we drive go-karts together sometime, Max?”
“Absolutely, buddy,” Max’s face lit up, “we’ll set up a special day just for you. Maybe I’ll even teach you some tricks, just don’t tell Lando!”
The day went on and after the video for Quadrant was all filmed they all ended up at Max’s place for the rest of the day. With every passing minute it became clearer and clearer that Noah and Max were hitting it off. The moment Max crouched down to Noah’s level the two seemed to form an instant bond. The little boy was fascinated by Max’s stories, his jokes and the way he talked to him like they were equals.
Lando watched them, a smile on his face, but there was a twinge of something else - something like jealousy - bubbling inside of him. He was thrilled that Noah and Max were getting along so well but he couldn’t help but feel a bit left out as his best friend and girlfriend's son formed their own little duo.
Y/N noticed the subtle shift in Lando’s mood and gave him a gentle nudge. “You okay?” she asked softly, a knowing look in her eyes.
Lando shrugged, trying to play it off. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just didn’t expect them to hit it off this well.”
“You know Noah adores you, right?” Y/N smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder. “He’s just excited to meet someone new who’s as cool as you.”
Lando chuckled, though he still felt a little pang of envy as he watched Max and Noah. The two were now huddled together, Max showing Noah how to use a racing simulator setup. Noah was completely enthralled, his little hands gripping the steering wheel as Max guided him through the basics.
“Look, Lando! I’m driving,” Noah called out, his voice filled with excitement.
Lando forced a smile and walked over, ruffling Noah’s hair. “You’re doing great, buddy,” he said, trying to shake off the feeling of being the third wheel.
Max glanced up at Lando, catching the hint of jealousy in his friend’s eyes. He smirked and teased, “don’t worry, mate. I’m not trying to steal your thunder. I’m just giving Noah a taste of the Fewtrell magic.”
Lando rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, yeah. Just remember, I’m still his favorite.”
“We’ll see about that,” Max grinned, giving Noah a playful wink.
While Lando couldn’t deny that he was a little jealous he was also happy. Seeing Noah so happy and comfortable meant the world to him and he knew that Max was only adding to that joy.
Later that evening, as the sun began to set, Lando found himself sitting on a bench, watching as Max and Noah played a game of tag in Max’s backyard. Y/N sat beside him, her hand resting on his.
“You know, it’s okay to be a little jealous,” she said gently, reading his thoughts.
Lando sighed, leaning back. “I know. I guess I’m just not used to sharing my best friend - or my family.”
Y/N smiled, squeezing his hand. “But that’s what makes it so special, right? You’re not losing anything, you’re just adding more love, more laughter and more memories.”
“You’re right,” Lando nodded, her words sinking in. “And honestly, seeing Noah this happy… It’s worth it.”
They watched Max chase Noah around and Lando felt the last of his jealousy melt away. In its place was a deep feeling of gratitude - gratitude for the people in his life who made every day brighter and for the moments that reminded him just how lucky he was.
“Lando,” Noah called out, running over to him with Max close behind. “Come play with us!”
Lando grinned, standing up and reaching out to lift Noah into his arms. “Alright, alright. Let’s see if you two can keep up with me!”
Y/N watched the three of them run off with a smile, knowing that they were building something special.
______
It was a sunny Sunday morning at the circuit a few weeks later and after the successful introduction of Y/N and Noah to his best friend Lando wanted to take the next big step: Introduce them to his parents. The moment had been on his mind for weeks and as he led them through the paddock he couldn’t help but feel nervous.
The three of them walked together, Noah in the middle holding each of Y/N and Lando’s hands. He was taking in the buzz of the race weekend and the people rushing around. His tiny hand tightened around his mother’s fingers as they approached the McLaren motorhome where Lando’s parents, Cisca and Adam, were waiting.
“They’re really looking forward to meeting you both,” Lando said, offering a reassuring smile. He had told his parents about Y/N and Noah the day after they had started dating and they had been eager to finally meet the two people who had brought so much joy into his life. Today, five months later, the day was finally here.
As they reached the entrance, Lando spotted his parents just inside, chatting with a few members of the team. Cisca was the first to notice them, her face lighting up as she nudged Adam and made her way over.
“Lando,” she exclaimed, pulling her son into a warm hug. Lando grinned and returned the embrace before turning to Y/N and Noah. “Mum, Dad, this is Y/N and this little guy here is Noah.”
Y/N felt a flutter of nerves as Cisca turned her attention to her but the warmth in the older woman’s eyes immediately put her at ease.
“It’s so lovely to finally meet you, Y/N,” Cisca said, giving her a gentle hug. “Lando has told us so much about you both.”
Adam stepped forward shaking Y/N’s hand before crouching down to the boy. “So you are the famous Noah,” he said with a kind smile. “Are you excited to see the race?”
Noah nodded shyly, his big eyes fixed on the man in front of him. “Yeah,” he said softly before glancing up at Lando. “I want to see Lando win.”
Adam chuckled. “Well, we all do! How about we go find some snacks and get ready to cheer him on?”
Noah’s face brightened at the mention of snacks and he nodded enthusiastically. Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her son warming up to Lando’s parents so quickly.
While they made their way through the motorhome Lando stayed close to Y/N, occasionally glancing over to see how she was doing. She seemed more relaxed now and the sight of her laughing at something Cisca had said made him happy.
Cisca and Adam were instantly charmed by Noah’s curiosity and sweetness and Y/N found herself feeling more and more at ease as the morning went on. She could see where Lando got his kindness and sense of humor from.
Later, after they had all settled into their seats in the family area, Noah found himself a bit restless. The excitement of the day and the overwhelming sights and sounds of the racetrack were a lot for a four-year-old to take in. He fidgeted in his seat, his small hands gripping the edge as his eyes followed the blur of cars speeding by on the track.
Cisca noticed and leaned over with a warm smile. “Would you like to sit with me, Noah?” she asked softly, her voice gentle and inviting. Noah hesitated for a moment, glancing up at his mom. Y/N nodded encouragingly and with that silent approval Noah shuffled over to Cisca. 
“There we go, sweetheart,” Cisca said, lifting him onto her lap. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him securely as he settled against her. The connection between them was immediate, as if he had always been part of the family.
Noah relaxed almost instantly, his earlier nervousness melting away in the comfort of her embrace. He leaned back against her, his tiny body fitting perfectly in her lap, and gazed out at the track with wide eyes. 
Cisca, noticing his gaze was still intent on the cars, pointed to the track. “Do you see Lando? He’s driving really fast! And we’re here to cheer him on, aren't we’?”
Noah nodded vigorously, his small hands gripping the edge of the seat as he leaned forward a little, as if that would help him see Lando’s car better. “Go, Lando, go!” he shouted, his voice ringing out clear and strong above the noise of the cars.
Cisca laughed softly and she gently rocked Noah as they both watched the race. Every time Lando’s car zoomed by Noah would point and cheer, his little voice growing hoarse but full of excitement.
Adam, sitting next to them, couldn’t help but smile at the sight. He exchanged a glance with Y/N, who was watching them obviously relieved. It was clear that seeing Noah so happy and comfortable with Lando’s parents was a huge weight lifted off her shoulders.
The race continued and Cisca and Noah formed a little routine. She would point out different things on the track, explaining them in simple terms that Noah could understand and he would respond with questions. It was as if they had known each other for much longer than just a few hours.
At one point the boy looked up at Cisca, his big, innocent eyes searching hers. “Can we always watch Lando’s races together?” he asked, his voice filled with the kind of sincerity only a child could have.
“Of course we can, Noah,” she replied, kissing the top of his head. “We’re a team now and teams stick together.”
Noah beamed at her answer, turning his attention back to the track with renewed excitement. The race neared its end and Noah remained on Cisca’s lap, nestled comfortably against her. He was still full of energy, his little body practically buzzing and when Lando crossed the finish line the entire family erupted into cheers.
Cisca hugged the boy tightly while Adam reached over to ruffle Noah’s hair affectionately. “Looks like we’ve got a future racer in the family,” he joked, making everyone laugh.
Y/N, watching the exchange, felt a tear slip down her cheek, quickly brushing it away before anyone could notice. She had always hoped that whoever came into her life would accept Noah as their own but to see Lando’s family not only accepting but also embracing her son with open arms was more than she could have ever dreamed of.
_____
A/N: Cisca's surprise visit yesterday was just so fricking cute 😍 so I decided to expand by 2 more chapters, I just love writing this series way too much, so stay tuned for Part 8!
Tag: @barcelonaloverf1life @remmysthings @poppyflower-22 @vickykazuya @hadids-world @ririyulife @deafeningunknowntyrant @lexiecampos @littlegrapejuice @eloriis @yawn-zi @landossainz @taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs @casuallyeating @jaydensluv @destinyg237 @il0vereadingstuff @lnchicagosreads @alana4610 @hc-dutch
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mononijikayu · 3 months ago
Text
ikaw lang— fushiguro megumi.
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"Thanks. he muttered, his voice softer this time, almost shy. He still wasn’t used to letting people in, but for some reason, with you, it didn’t feel so bad. You smiled again, that same warm smile that made something inside him flutter. "Anytime." you replied, and Megumi knew you meant it. “Let me take care of you again, okay? When this happens.” “......You didn’t need to—” You shake your head, smile even wider.  “But I want to, okay?”
GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;
WARNING/s: Fluff, Romance, First Love, First Meeting, Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Friendship, Confessions, Humor, Mutual Affection, Love, Pining, Hugging, Mention of Injury, Mention of Fighting, Mention of Blood, Depiction of Medical Aid, Fushiguro Megumi is In Love, Sorcerer! Megumi, Non-Sorcerer!Reader, Megumi and Reader Are A Bit Older;
WORDS: 6.5k words.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: this song is really cute. i should rest after this because ive been writing all the other poll related works and my eyes hurts. i might open commissions some time so i can get new glasses 🤔 but anyway, i hope you like this as much as i do. i love you so much 🫶
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if you want to, tip! <3
:•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:
HE WONDERS WHAT HE DID TO BE THIS HAPPY. Fushiguro Megumi often finds himself lost in thought, trying to piece together how he ended up with someone like you as his lover. It’s a mystery to him, one that he turns over and over in his mind, especially in the quiet moments when he watches you from across the room.
The two of you couldn’t be more different. Megumi has always been reserved, the kind of person who prefers the solace of a quiet corner, away from the spotlight. He’s never been one to seek attention, content to blend into the background, observing rather than participating. 
And then there’s you, today. The person he loves the most.
You, who are the complete opposite of everything he thought he needed. You walk into a room and light it up effortlessly, drawing people to you like a lighthouse in a rough storm. Your presence is magnetic, radiant—wherever you go, you leave a trail of warmth and joy, like the sun casting light on everything in its path. If the sun existed in Megumi’s universe, it would undoubtedly be you, the brightest star in his sky, illuminating even the darkest parts of his world.
Sometimes, Fushiguro Megumi wonders how someone like you could ever be drawn to someone like him. He’s not flashy, not outgoing or overly expressive. But then, you’ve never needed him to be. From the moment you met, you saw something in him that no one else did. You didn’t mind his quiet nature; in fact, you seemed to appreciate it, to cherish the way he found comfort in the shadows while you thrived in the light.
Every time Megumi sees you, his heart races uncontrollably. It’s a feeling he can’t quite describe, this mixture of awe and disbelief that he’s lucky enough to have you by his side. You have a way of making him feel things he never thought possible—emotions that run deep and wild, far beyond the calm exterior he usually shows the world.
And whenever you flash him that smile, the one he loves so much, he feels his composure slip. His face turns scarlet, his heart stumbles over itself, and he panics slightly, wondering how he’ll ever survive the intensity of his feelings for you.
But what truly leaves Megumi breathless are your eyes.
He’s always been captivated by them, even before he realized he loved you. There’s something in the way your eyes shine that draws him in, that makes him feel like he’s seeing something otherworldly. When you look at him, it’s like the rest of the world fades away, leaving only the two of you in a moment of pure, unfiltered connection.
Your eyes are windows to your soul, reflecting every emotion, every thought, every ounce of love you hold for him. And Megumi, who is often so unsure of himself, finds a sense of peace and belonging in those eyes. They are his sanctuary, his guiding light, the proof that he’s not alone in this world.
Sometimes, when you catch him staring, you’ll tilt your head and ask him what he’s thinking. And every time, Megumi struggles to find the right words, because how can he possibly explain the way you make him feel? How can he put into words the overwhelming mixture of gratitude, love, and fear that courses through him whenever he’s with you? All he knows is that, in those moments, he’s reminded of just how extraordinary you are, and how incredibly lucky he is to have you.
You are the sun in his universe, the brightest star in his sky, and with every passing day, Megumi falls deeper in love with you. And even though he’s not always able to express it, he hopes that when you look into his eyes, you can see just how much you mean to him—how much he adores every part of you, and how grateful he is to share his life with someone as wonderful as you.
Each time you raise your head and let Megumi gaze into your eyes, he’s struck by how they seem to shimmer with an otherworldly light. It’s not just the way they sparkle, but the depth and complexity they hold within them, as if your eyes contain entire galaxies, full of stars, planets, and endless mysteries.
To Megumi, your eyes are like a universe unto themselves—vast, beautiful, and impossible to fully comprehend. He can never quite find the words to describe the wonder they bring him, because, in truth, they’re unlike anything he’s ever known. They’re out of this world, something magical and extraordinary that he’s lucky enough to witness every day.
And every day, Megumi is reminded of just how fortunate he is to have you by his side. There are moments when he’s caught off guard by the simple yet profound realization that someone as remarkable as you chose him.
He’ll be lost in thought, or caught up in the routine of daily life, and then you’ll look at him, your eyes meeting his, and all those thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. In those moments, nothing else matters—just the connection between you, the unspoken bond that ties your hearts together.
Megumi finds that the most beautiful part of his day is when you look back at him. Your eyes, shining with a brilliance that words can’t quite capture, speak volumes in a language only the two of you understand. They tell him of the abundant love you hold for him, a love that fills his heart with warmth and light.
He’s always been shy, a little reserved, and sometimes he struggles to put his feelings into words. But when you look at him with those sparkling eyes, he wishes he could find the courage to tell you just how much it feels like heaven on Earth when you let him see the hearts hidden behind the bright beam of your gaze.
Megumi knows that you’re patient with him, that you understand his quiet nature, but sometimes he worries that he doesn’t show you enough how deeply he loves you. He wishes he could be more expressive, that he could find the words to tell you everything he feels.
But when words fail him, he hopes that you can see it in the way he looks at you—in the way his breath catches, in the way his heart races, in the way he’s completely and utterly captivated by you.
To Megumi, your eyes are not just beautiful—they are a reflection of the love you have for him, a love that he treasures more than anything in the world. Every glance you share, every moment your eyes meet his, is a reminder of how lucky he is to have found someone like you. And even though he may never fully grasp the magic you bring into his life, he knows that he will spend every day trying to show you just how much you mean to him.
To Megumi, it feels like stars might actually be falling from the sky, captured in the light of your gaze. Every moment he gets to see those eyes, he feels like he's witnessing something otherworldly, something that makes all the differences between you melt away, leaving only the overwhelming love he has for you.
Even though Megumi isn’t always good with words, he sometimes wishes that you could simply look into his eyes and just know that he loves you more than anything in the world. He hopes that you no longer feel the need to ask over and over, like you used to, because the truth is, you’re the only one he has ever truly loved—and the only one he ever will.
But sometimes, a nagging doubt creeps into his mind. He worries that his quietness might not be enough to convince you of how much you mean to him. He fears that he’s not doing enough to show you just how deeply he cares, because he struggles to express his feelings out loud. Yet, despite those fears, Megumi is determined to try harder, to find ways to show you his love so that you never have to doubt it.
If there were a way, Megumi wishes you could look into his heart and believe without a shadow of a doubt that you are the only one his heart has ever loved. And as he gazes at you now, he silently hopes that you can feel the depth of his affection in the way he looks at you, even if the words aren’t always there.
Fushiguro Megumi vividly remembers the first time he saw you for the first time. That was that day, during middle school. It was an ordinary day, and he wasn’t expecting anything to change. And for that change to be for the best.
He was known for being a bit of a loner, someone who kept to himself and occasionally got into trouble for his rebellious streak. He wasn’t exactly a model student, and most people gave him a wide berth, not wanting to get involved with someone who had a reputation for being a delinquent.
But then there was you, when you were younger.
He had just been reprimanded by one of the homeroom teachers for getting into another fight—something that had become more common as he struggled to navigate the challenges of his teenage years.
Or rather, just the annoyance he had for people he considered to be cruel, horrible people. But he supposed he was also angry, frustrated with the world, and on the verge of lashing out again when you approached him.
You were new, just transferred to the school, and Megumi was sure that you, like everyone else, would steer clear of him. But instead, you walked right up to him, your eyes full of concern rather than fear or judgment. You were like the sun blocking his eyes when he met you. You changed his whole world that day, he likes to think. 
"Hey! Are you okay?" you had said softly, your voice calm and soothing. "Oh no, you got some dirt on your shirt—is that a cut on your side?"
Fushiguro Megumi had been taken aback for a long time. The last time must have been when Gojo said he’s taking him and Megumi in. There were very few things that had Megumi fazed, stuck in his tracks, and at a loss for words.
Perhaps the act of kindness being shown to him was one of those points. But he doesn’t think you’ve blamed him. He wasn’t used to anyone talking to him like that—without the underlying wariness or caution. He didn’t know how to respond, so he just shrugged, trying to brush you off. 
“I’m fine.” he muttered, his tone gruff, hoping you would just drop it and leave him alone. "Don't worry about me. Move on."
But you didn’t leave. Instead, you stood your ground, your eyes filled with a concern that he hadn’t seen in a long time. It was as if you could see right through his tough exterior, straight to the part of him that was hurting, and you weren’t about to let it go unnoticed. You shook your head, your hands reaching out to gently tug at his sleeves, drawing his attention back to you.
When he finally looked at you, he was surprised to find that you seemed more distressed about his well-being than he was. There was a softness in your gaze, mixed with a quiet determination that caught him off guard.
"It doesn’t look like it! See? It hasn’t stopped bleeding. you replied gently, your voice free of any reproach, but filled with genuine worry. 
Megumi followed your gaze to the cut on his arm, a wound he hadn’t given much thought to in the heat of the moment. But seeing the concern etched on your face made him pause.
You hesitated for a moment, as if unsure of how to proceed, before speaking again. "But if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay. I just… I just wanted to make sure you’re alright." 
“Don’t worry about me—”
Your voice wavered slightly, betraying the depth of your concern, and it made something inside Megumi’s chest tighten. "At least maybe let me help you clean that nasty cut."
Megumi blinked, taken aback by your persistence. He was used to people either ignoring him or chastising him for getting into trouble, but you were different. You weren’t trying to fix him or tell him what to do—you were simply offering to help, to be there for him in a way that no one else had been. It was a kindness he wasn’t used to, and he didn’t quite know how to respond.
For a moment, he considered brushing you off, telling you he didn’t need any help, that he could handle it on his own. But something in your eyes stopped him. There was a sincerity there, a genuine desire to take care of him, and it made him realize how rare it was for someone to care like that.
"Fine." he finally grumbled, though his voice had lost its earlier edge. He couldn’t quite bring himself to meet your gaze, instead focusing on the ground as he added, "But it’s really not that bad."
You didn’t seem convinced, but you didn’t push him further. Instead, you smiled—a small, relieved smile that made his chest feel warm in a way he wasn’t used to. "Let’s just get it cleaned up, okay?" you said softly, leading him to a nearby bench.
As you carefully tended to his wound, Megumi found himself stealing glances at you, wondering why you cared so much. You were new to the school, new to his world, and yet here you were, going out of your way to make sure he was alright. It was strange, but also… comforting.
"Why do you care?" he asked quietly, surprising even himself with the question. It wasn’t something he’d meant to say out loud, but now that the words were out there, he couldn’t take them back.
You paused, looking up at him with those kind, worried eyes. "Because you deserve it." you replied simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Everyone deserves to be cared for, you know?"
Your words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, Megumi didn’t know what to say. He’d never thought of himself as someone who deserved kindness, especially not from someone like you. But hearing you say it so matter-of-factly made him wonder if maybe, just maybe, you were right.
You took Megumi to the nurse’s office, your concern evident in every step you took. He had tried to brush off the cut on his arm as no big deal, but you weren’t having any of it. As you entered the office, you headed straight for the supply cabinet, rummaging through it to find the emergency kit.
Megumi watched you with a mixture of apprehension and admiration. His face was tense, a mixture of discomfort and embarrassment clearly visible. He had never been one to draw attention to himself, especially not for something he considered minor. Yet here you were, focused and determined to make sure he was taken care of.
You pulled out the first aid kit and set it on the counter, your hands moving quickly and efficiently. “Alright, let’s get this cleaned up,” you said, your voice steady and reassuring.
Megumi shifted uncomfortably, clearly aware of the fuss you were making. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble. It’s just a scratch,” he muttered, trying to downplay the situation.
You gave him a stern look as you began to clean the cut. “It’s not just a scratch if it’s bleeding. Besides, it’s my job to make sure you’re okay. You’ve been taking care of everyone else, so let me take care of you for once.”
He sighed, though he couldn’t help but feel a little comforted by your persistence. As you carefully applied the antiseptic and bandaged his arm, Megumi stole glances at you, noticing the focused expression on your face. Despite his initial resistance, he was grateful for your concern.
“You really don’t have to do this,” he said again, though his voice lacked conviction this time.
You glanced up at him with a small, reassuring smile. “I know, but I want to. You’ve always been there for me, and it’s only fair that I return the favor. Besides, you look like you’re in no condition to argue right now.”
Megumi managed a small, appreciative smile despite his discomfort. “Thanks. I guess I’m just not used to this… kind of attention.”
You finished wrapping the bandage and patted his shoulder gently. “Well, get used to it. Because I’m not going to let you get away with not taking care of yourself. And don’t think I won’t be checking on you if you ever get hurt again.”
He looked at you, the tension in his face easing as he met your gaze. “I’ll try not to get hurt then. Or at least try to let you know before it gets this bad.”
You laughed softly, your eyes crinkling with warmth. “Good. And remember, if you ever need anything—whether it’s help with a cut or just someone to talk to—I’m always here for you.”
Megumi’s heart swelled with a mix of gratitude and affection. Even though he had tried to downplay the situation, your unwavering concern made him feel valued in a way he hadn’t felt before. He knew that no matter what happened, he could always count on you to be by his side.
As you finished bandaging his cut, Megumi felt a strange sense of calm settle over him. For the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel so alone. Maybe it was because of the way you looked at him, or the way you didn’t push him to talk about things he wasn’t ready to share. Or maybe it was just because you were there, offering your help without expecting anything in return.
"Thanks....I guess." he muttered, his voice softer this time, almost shy. He still wasn’t used to letting people in, but for some reason, with you, it didn’t feel so bad.
You smiled again, that same warm smile that made something inside him flutter. "Anytime." you replied, and Megumi knew you meant it. “Let me take care of you again, okay? When this happens.”
“......You didn’t need to—”
You shake your head, smile even wider.  “But I want to, okay?”
He didn’t know how to reply. He rubs the back of his neck. “You’re a weird one.”
“EH!? But I’m not!”
As the two of you sat there, the world seemed to quiet down around him, leaving only the gentle presence of the person who had somehow managed to slip past his defenses and show him a kindness he hadn’t realized he was missing.
Megumi didn’t know what to say. He was used to people either avoiding him or giving him grief for his behavior, but you were different. You weren’t trying to lecture him or push him away. You were just… there, offering your kindness without expecting anything in return.
From that day on, you always treated him with the same patience and understanding, even when he continued to get into trouble. You never judged him, never scolded him. Instead, you listened, offering support when he needed it and giving him space when he didn’t. You seemed to see past the rough exterior, recognizing that there was more to him than just the delinquent reputation he had built.
At first, Megumi didn’t understand why you were so kind to him. He didn’t think he deserved it, and part of him expected you to give up on him eventually. But you never did. No matter how many times he got into trouble, you were always there, offering him a smile or a word of encouragement.
Slowly, he began to soften around you. He started to look forward to the moments when you would seek him out, your presence becoming a source of comfort in his otherwise turbulent life. You became his anchor, the person who made him believe that maybe he wasn’t as bad as he thought.
It wasn’t long before Megumi realized that his feelings for you had grown into something deeper. At first, he had tried to convince himself that what he felt was simply gratitude, an appreciation for the way you treated him with such genuine care and respect. But as time passed, he found himself thinking about you more and more, his thoughts lingering on the little moments you shared.
Like that time in the library, when you had insisted on helping him with his homework. Megumi had been struggling with a particularly difficult problem, his frustration mounting with each failed attempt to solve it. You had noticed his struggle and quietly slid your chair closer to his, gently guiding him through the problem with a patience that both surprised and comforted him.
“There, see? You’re getting it!” you had said, a bright smile lighting up your face as you watched him work through the problem.
Megumi had looked at you then, really looked at you, and something inside him had shifted. It was the way you had been so kind, so encouraging, without a hint of judgment or condescension. The way you had treated him like he mattered, like you genuinely wanted to see him succeed. It was a feeling that was foreign to him, yet it warmed him from the inside out.
Another moment had come when the two of you were walking home from school. It had started to rain unexpectedly, and Megumi had cursed himself for not bringing an umbrella. But before he could worry too much, you had pulled out your own and held it over both of you, smiling up at him as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“Come on, let’s share. Can’t have you getting soaked.” you had said, your voice cheerful despite the downpour.
As the two of you walked side by side, your shoulders brushing occasionally, Megumi had felt his heart do a strange little flip. He hadn’t been able to stop himself from glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, noticing the way the raindrops clung to your hair, how your smile remained unwavering despite the weather.
In that moment, something had clicked for him. It wasn’t just your kindness that drew him to you—it was the way you made him feel safe, understood, and… cared for.
The realization had hit him one afternoon when you both were at the park. You had been talking animatedly about something, your hands gesturing as you spoke, your eyes sparkling with excitement.
Fushiguro Megumi had been content to just listen, watching the way your expressions changed with every word. And then, without warning, you had turned to him, catching him completely off guard with a look of such warmth and affection that it nearly knocked the breath out of him.
“What?” you had asked, laughing lightly when you noticed the way he was staring.
Megumi had opened his mouth to respond, but no words had come out. Instead, he had felt a strange mix of emotions bubbling up inside him—nervousness, excitement, something that felt suspiciously like hope. It was then that he realized: this wasn’t just friendship or simple admiration. It was something deeper, something more.
He liked you. A lot.
The thought had sent a rush of warmth through his chest, leaving him both exhilarated and terrified. Megumi wasn’t used to these kinds of feelings, and he wasn’t sure what to do with them. But as he looked at you, standing there with that bright smile on your face, he knew one thing for certain—he wanted to be around you, to make you smile like that as often as he could.
“Nothing.” he had finally managed to say, a small, shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I was just… thinking.”
“Thinking about what?” you had asked, tilting your head curiously.
Megumi had hesitated for a moment, but then he had decided to be honest, even if he couldn’t say everything that was on his mind. “About how… I like spending time with you.”
Your smile had grown even brighter at his words, and you had reached out to lightly punch his arm in that playful way you always did. “Well, I like spending time with you too, Megumi.”
And just like that, Megumi had known that he was done for. He liked you—really liked you. And even though the thought scared him, it also filled him with a strange sense of happiness, one that he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt before. From that moment on, Megumi couldn’t deny it anymore. He liked you, and he wanted to see where these feelings would take him.
Looking back, Megumi often finds himself reflecting on how profoundly different his life might have been if you hadn’t approached him that day. It was a pivotal moment, one that he now sees as the turning point in his journey.
Before you, he had felt like a perpetual outsider—misunderstood, labeled as a troublemaker, and largely ignored by those around him. He had been resigned to his role, to the way people saw him, without much hope for change or growth.
But then you came into his life, a beacon of kindness and patience in a world that had been mostly indifferent. You saw something in him that no one else had—a potential for change, a person worth caring for. Your approach had been gentle but resolute, offering him a friendship and understanding that he hadn’t known he needed.
You didn’t judge him for his mistakes or his quiet demeanor; instead, you reached out to him with a genuine concern for his well-being. It was this unassuming kindness that started to crack open the hardened shell he had built around himself.
Now, years later, Megumi often wonders if he would have ever found the strength to change if it hadn’t been for you. He thinks about the way you had treated him back then, how your unwavering support had slowly begun to reshape his view of himself.
It was as if you had quietly whispered to him that he was worth something, that he had the potential to be better, and that there was more to him than just the surface-level troubles. And in doing so, you had planted a seed of hope and self-worth that gradually grew into something stronger and more resilient.
As the two of you sit together now, the evening sun casting a warm, golden glow through the window, Megumi can’t help but be reminded of how far he’s come. The comfort and familiarity of your presence have become a cherished part of his life.
He often steals glances at you, unable to fully comprehend just how lucky he is to have someone like you by his side. The way you’re sitting there, so effortlessly at ease, makes his heart swell with a deep affection that words can hardly capture.
You’ve caught him staring more than once, and each time, you respond with that soft, knowing smile that makes his heart skip a beat. It’s a smile that reassures him, that reminds him of the love that started on that day in junior high, when you saw him not as a problem or a troublemaker, but as someone worthy of care and respect. That smile, simple yet profound, continues to be a source of comfort and joy for him, a daily reminder of how much you mean to him.
In those moments, as he looks at you and sees the warmth in your eyes and the gentle curve of your lips, Megumi is filled with a deep sense of gratitude. He thinks about how his life might have been different without your influence, and he realizes just how much you’ve changed him. The love he feels for you is rooted in that initial connection, and it has only grown deeper and stronger with time.
Megumi knows now that the love he has for you began with that first act of kindness you showed him, and it has only been enriched by the years you’ve spent together. As he sits there beside you, basking in the glow of the setting sun and the warmth of your presence, he can’t help but feel that he has found something truly extraordinary—something that started with a simple gesture of care and has blossomed into a love that he never thought possible.
You lean in slightly, noticing how quiet he’s been. "Megumi. Oiiiiiii, Megu–Megu~ Gumiiiiii!”
He sighed, looking at you. You have energy again, after resting. “What is it?”
“You truly okay?" you ask, your voice gentle and inviting.
He hesitates, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink. "It’s nothing. Don’t worry about me.” he mumbles, looking down at his hands, fidgeting slightly. "Just thinking about the past. Nostalgia."
You tilt your head, your eyes sparkling with curiosity and affection. You smiled. "You’re always so cute, Megumi.” You sighed, as you reached out gently to touch his hand. ”You’ve been staring at me all evening. If you have something to say, you can tell me, okay?”
Megumi swallows, gathering his courage. "It’s just… your eyes…" he finally says, his voice barely above a whisper. "They’re… really beautiful. And just…..you. I think how lucky I am to be with you.”
You blink in surprise, not expecting such a heartfelt compliment from him. "Oh, my beloved Megumi." you murmur, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "Thank you."
Megumi slowly looks up at you then, his own eyes filled with a tender sincerity that makes your heart flutter. He took a breath before letting his eyes wander at the sight of you, his beloved marvel. His wonder in life. He gives you a faint smile. 
"When you look at me like that… it feels like I’m seeing stars." he continues, his voice growing softer, more vulnerable. "Like… every time I see your eyes, it’s the most beautiful part of my day. And… I don’t know how to say this right, but… it’s like there’s love shining behind them, so much that it feels like heaven."
Your heart swells with emotion, and you squeeze his hand gently. You lifted his hand to your lips and looked at him tenderly as you pressed your lips against the top of his hand. He doesn’t know when his heart will calm down. But when it’s you, he doubts if it will ever happen. 
"Megumi, that’s one of the sweetest things you’ve ever said to me." you reply, your voice filled with warmth. "And just so you know, when I look at you, I feel the same way. You make every day feel like the brightest one I’ve ever had. Because when I look at you, I ask, ‘how did I deserve this boy?’ Because, you’re too good to me.”
He smiles shyly, his blush deepening as he takes in your words. "I’m glad….that you feel like I do too." he murmurs, his fingers intertwined with yours.
"I always will." You reassured him, grinning at him lovingly.
"I… I’m not good with words, but I want you to know how much you mean to me. Every time you look at me, it’s like… it’s like I’m the luckiest person in the world."
You lean in closer, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "You don’t have to say much, Megumi. I can see it in your eyes too." you whisper, your breath warm against his skin. “That’s more than enough for me, know that. Okay?”
Megumi’s heart swells, and for a moment, he forgets about his usual shyness. "I love you." he says softly, the words slipping out before he can stop them. “More than you’ll ever know.”
Your smile widens, your eyes shining even brighter. "I love you too, Megumi." you reply, your voice filled with the same sincerity and warmth that he sees in your gaze every day.
And in that moment, with your hands intertwined and your eyes locked, Fushiguro Megumi knows that there’s nothing more beautiful than the love you both share. And he truly believes that. He thinks that you’re the love of his life. And he has no intention of letting you go.
Megumi's heart races as the words hang in the air between you. He's never been the best at expressing his feelings, but something about being with you makes it easier—like the words come naturally when you're around. You pull back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes again, your own filled with the same warmth and love that makes his heart flutter. 
"You know, Megumi." you start, your voice soft and affectionate, "I always feel like I’m the luckiest person too. Because even when you're quiet or shy, I can feel everything you don’t say in the way you look at me. It’s like you’re telling me a million things with just a glance."
He bites his lip, trying to find the right words to respond. "It’s hard for me to… say things out loud sometimes. And it’s hard to be honest at times." he admits, his gaze lowering for a moment before meeting yours again. "But when I’m with you, it feels different. Because when I’m with you, I’m just….me.”
You smile at him, a soft, understanding smile that makes him feel even more at ease. "You don’t have to say everything, Megumi." you reassure him. "I can see it in your actions, in the way you care for me, and in those beautiful eyes of yours. You’re always telling me how you feel, even when you think you’re not. I love that about you, don’t worry.”
Megumi blushes, the compliment making him feel a mix of embarrassment and joy. "You… you think my eyes are beautiful?" he asks, his voice small, almost disbelieving.
"Of course I do." you reply, leaning in to rest your forehead against his. "They’re one of my favorite things about you. They’re so expressive, even when you’re being quiet. I can always tell what you’re feeling just by looking into them. Your eyelashes too. They’re always pretty!”
His breath hitches at the closeness, your words making his heart swell with emotion. "I… I’m glad you think that." he murmurs, his eyes locked onto yours. "Because… When I look at you, I see everything I could ever want.”
Your heart skips a beat at his confession, and you close the small distance between you, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. It’s soft, sweet, and full of the love that you both share, a love that needs no words to be understood.
When you pull back, you see that Megumi’s face is a deep shade of red, but there’s a small, content smile on his lips that makes your heart soar. "You really know how to say the perfect thing, don’t you?" you tease lightly, brushing a stray strand of hair away from his face.
He chuckles softly, his shyness momentarily forgotten as he looks at you with nothing but affection. "Only because it’s you." he replies, his voice steady and full of sincerity. "You make it easy."
You both sit there for a moment, just enjoying the comfort of each other’s presence. Megumi’s hand is still entwined with yours, and he gives it a gentle squeeze, as if to remind himself that this is real—that you’re real, and that you’re his.
"I never thought I’d be this happy, you know?" he admits quietly, almost as if he’s afraid that saying it out loud might break the spell. "But with you… it’s like every day is a dream."
You smile, your heart swelling with love for the boy who, despite his quiet demeanor, has given you more happiness than you ever imagined. "Then let’s keep dreaming together, Megumi." you whisper, leaning in for another kiss. "Because I never want this to end."
The warmth of the setting sun bathed the room in a golden hue, casting a gentle glow that seemed to amplify the intimacy of the moment. Megumi and you were nestled comfortably together, sharing a quiet sense of peace that had settled between you. This was paradise, Megumi thinks. This was heaven on earth. You and you alone, in his arms — he could not ask for anything more.
Megumi glanced at you again, his eyes reflecting the soft light. “What good did I do to be with you?”
You tilted your head, smiling at him with a mixture of curiosity and affection. “Why do you say that? What makes you feel that way? You did everything good. You do deserve me."
He hesitated, his gaze falling to the floor as he tried to find the right words. “It’s just… you’ve always been there for me, even when I didn’t really know what I needed. I was so closed off and messed up back then. But you saw something in me, something I didn’t even see in myself.”
You reached out, gently placing your hand on his cheek to lift his gaze to meet yours. “I saw a person who needed kindness and understanding, and I’m really glad I could be there for you. But you did the hard part, Megumi. You changed and grew, and that’s all you.”
He shook his head slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. “I couldn’t have done it without you. And now, every day with you feels like a gift. I keep thinking about how different things could have been if you hadn’t come into my life. It’s overwhelming sometimes.”
You chuckled softly, your fingers brushing his hair back from his forehead. “Well, I’m glad I did. And I’m glad you’re here with me now. It’s like we were meant to find each other, don’t you think?”
Megumi nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, it does feel like that. I keep thinking about how we met and how everything just seemed to fall into place after that. It’s like you were the missing piece I didn’t know I needed.”
Your eyes sparkled with affection as you leaned closer. “And you were the person who showed me what it means to be patient and understanding. We’ve both learned so much from each other.”
He smiled, a rare, genuine smile that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. “You’ve made me a better person. I feel like I’ve become more open, more willing to trust and care. It’s all because of you.”
Your heart swelled at his words, and you wrapped your arms around him in a gentle hug. “I’m just glad I could be a part of your journey. And I’m excited for everything that’s still to come for us.”
Megumi returned the hug, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go. “Me too. I want to make sure I’m always there for you, supporting you just like you’ve supported me. I don’t want you to ever doubt how much you mean to me.”
You pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, a soft smile playing on your lips. “You don’t have to worry about that. I know exactly how much I mean to you. And I’ll always be here for you, just like you’ve always been there for me.”
As the two of you sat together, the warmth of the setting sun casting a gentle glow over the room, Megumi felt an overwhelming sense of contentment. He knew that with you by his side, every day would be brighter, every challenge more bearable.
And as he looked into your eyes, he realized that the love he felt was a constant, reassuring presence—one that made everything feel right in the world.
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fastandcarlos · 3 months ago
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When He Stares At You Getting Ready For A Date : ̗̀➛ F1 Reaction
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» Max Verstappen 
There’s a proud smile on Max’s face as he watches you get ready. He only intends to be there for a moment, just passing by as he gets himself ready, but soon enough he finds himself stood staring, unable to drag himself away. You pretend not to notice him, but as the minutes pass you can’t help but pay attention to him. “If you look at me any longer, you’re going to run out of time to get yourself sorted,” you call out, snapping him out of his daydream as he mutters an apology and scurries away back into the bedroom to sort himself out too. 
» Lando Norris 
He tries his best not to be seen by you as Lando watches you slide into your dress, straightening the material out. The way it hugs your figure makes his heart excited, unable to stop himself from smiling. He hides away from you, blending into the rest of the room so that you can’t spot his eyes watching over you. However as you turn around, Lando panics and stumbles like he always does, ever his clumsy self. “Were you staring again?” You joke, knowing exactly what Lando is like. “Maybe,” he responds, voice trailing as embarrassment washes over him. 
» Charles LeClerc 
He’s happy to admit he stares at you when you get ready for a date. Who could blame him? Charles watches you in awe, wondering how he got so lucky to spend his days with you. Even if you want to make fun of him for staring at you, Charles doesn’t care, he’s proud to stare and proud to call you his. “I’ll never tire of looking at you,” Charles tells you time and time again whenever you notice him. If there was one thing he’d like to do forever, it’s stare at you, whether the two of you are going out on a date or not. 
» George Russell 
Usually he finds himself dropping himself in it when he’s staring at you, not meaning to get caught glancing at you, but always getting caught anyway. Mostly, it’s when he wants to take a photo of you, lost in your own little world, forgetting his sound or the flash is on. “I just got her,” George would always protest whenever you looked across at him, unable to bring himself to admit that he was staring at you. The smile on his face tells you everything that you need to know though as George can never quite control when he’s around you. 
» Oscar Piastri 
It’s when you catch him out that always reminds Oscar how dangerous of a game it is staring at you. He really can’t help it, he’s just excited about the idea of a date with you, but he knows as soon as you find him staring you won’t let him forget it for the rest of the day. “You’re obsessed with me,” you tease time and time again when you find an opportunity. The way Oscar shyly looks away from you always makes you laugh when he knows that he’s been staring, the confidence quickly disappears whenever he gets caught out by you. 
» Carlos Sainz 
As he stares at you, you can usually be found staring at him too, both of you are equally obsessed with each other. It’s almost a game to see who catches the other first. Sometimes it’s you, sometimes it’s Carlos, but you most of the time you’re there together. “We’re both just so in love,” Carlos laughs whenever your eyes meet, unashamedly staring across at you. Both of you are left in awe of the other one time and time again, but particularly when you both put in a lot of effort to make sure that you look your best for the other on your dates. 
» Daniel Ricciardo 
Your body jumps as you hear a familiar voice call out as you get yourself ready for your date night. As you look between the two dresses in your hands, Daniel calls out with his own suggestion of what he wants to see. You hadn’t even heard him come up the stairs but soon enough he was in the doorway staring at you. “How long have you been there?” You ask as you place the dress Daniel didn’t choose back down. He simply shrugs back at you, ashamed to admit to you just how long he’s actually been stood there admiring you. 
» Lewis Hamilton 
He’s happy to sit back and watch you get ready for your date, appreciating the efforts that you go to for him and how careful you are with all the details. Every date you go on, Lewis watches you get ready, fascinated by your routine and the steps that you take. You usually can switch off to it, but when you meet his eye, you suddenly feel full of excitement, as if you’re back on your very first date again. “You look beautiful,” Lewis calls out as you shyly look away, encouraging you to find your confidence again and not get too nervous around him.  
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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