#that‘s what hurts so much

[strixhaven]

they should make a pillow that isn’t so sucks and actually works and is comfortable

[rafesslxt]

slytherin boys hc realizing they were to rough after an argument and comforting you?😭🙏

thank u for requesting, have fun reading <3

✧.*𝑺𝑳𝒀𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑰𝑵 𝑩𝑶𝒀𝑺 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵 | 𝑨𝑭𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑨𝑹𝑮𝑼𝑴𝑬𝑵𝑻 + 𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾

characters: mattheo riddle, tom riddle, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire, draco malfoy

warnings: fighting, arguing, fluff, mention of make up sex, so a bit smut

Mattheo Riddle:

let‘s be honest, he would definetly take a moment to realize he actually hurt your feelings

his pride and stubbornness would be in the way at first

but when he sees the first tears rolling down your cheeks he slowly walks towards you giving your forehead a kiss while hugging you tightly and swiping your tears away with his thumb

"I am so sorry princess, I swear you‘re right. I didn‘t mean it like that, you know that, right? I love you so much I would never want to hurt you on purpose. Can you please talk to me again, baby?"

he would pull you onto his lap and rock you slighty while whispering sweet things into your ear telling you how sorry he is and that it won‘t happen again

Mattheo would just cuddle you for the rest of the night and maybe have make up sex with you If you‘re not too mad at him

"I‘m gonna show you how sorry I am princess." he would be a MUNCH and eat you out, never stopping no matter how sensetive you got.

"Want me to stop? Come on baby, one more just one more I promise." his tounge would flick relentlessly over your clit over and over again, his green ties around your wrists making it hard to protest.

Tom Riddle:

bro would try to manipulate you at first and tell you you‘re overreacting and too sensetive but when you leave the room and don‘t try to reach out to him for a few days..

you got his head spinning

maybe he would wonder why you‘re ignoring him until he remebers your fight which he almost forgot because it was so unimportant to him

i think he would try to get closer to you so you had to talk to him

but when you still wouldn‘t and he notices the hurt in your eyes, he would wrap his arms around you from behind and whisper in your ear how sorry he is

he couldn‘t believe he really spoke these words but you meant too much to him to loose you over an stupid argument he couldn‘t even remember at first

"How difficult was that for you?" you ask when your little frown on your fave disappears and is switched with a smirk. He rolls his eyes and presses you against him, still whispering in your ear.

"Don‘t try your luck too much darling." While his fingers squeeze your sides

100% rough make up sex where he would punish you for not talking to him

"Fuck you think you can just ignore me? Act like I‘m not there?" while he pounds into you from behind, pushing your face down into the pillow.

"What was that darling? Couldn‘t hear you over all the noises you make."

Theodore Nott:

I have a splitted opinion on Theodore to be honest

on one side he would be the sweetest and comfort you right away without thinking twice about it

but on the other hand I also see him giving you a cold shoulder, also too stubborn and ignorant to realize how much he hurt you

but on either side, when he then would notice how you ignore him he would so something romantic to make it up to you

I just see him with a picnic prepared outside at the lake with your favorite snacks and a plushy for you.

"I‘m so sorry cara mia you mean the world to me, I never meant to hurt you. Please let me male it up to you."

After the picnic and you forgiving him he would pin you down, not giving a fuck who would see you If walking mear by

"Theo! Everyone could see!" you struggle against his fingers on your clit. "hmm let them see how sorry I am principessa."

he would pussy your skirt up and eat you out like Mattheo but without the whole overstimulation

when you come for the first time he wouldn‘t hesitate or waste any time to pull down his pants and fuck you next to the lake

"Fuck we should argue more often If that‘s the outcome of it. Me pounding your tight little pussy amore." You would shoot him a glare but moan his name right after, eyes rolling back

Lorenzo Berkshire:

He would be THE sweetest ever

but also he‘s someone who try‘s to stay calm during fights but then when he is really mad, he just explodes without thinking

as soon as he sees the first tear rolling down your face he would walk over to you and hug you so tight you almost couldn‘t breathe.

"God y/n I am so so so so sorry I swear it will never happen again! Shit I‘m so stupid I don‘t even deserve you baby."

when you would forgive him and already forgot about the fight you two had, he couldn‘t stop thinking about it.

he was just so sorry he had to show you somehow so the first thing that came to his mind was buying you something you wanted since forever

a fucking puppy

"Enzo! Oh my god you did nooot!" you said in a whiny tone about to cry from happiness

"No no no princess please don‘t cry I can bring him back If you don‘t – " "What? No!" you take him out of his hands and look down into it‘s cute face "thank you thank you thank you!"

after the day went by and you two got everything you need for your new baby, you wanted to thank your boyfriend

"Oh – fuck yes." he‘d groan while you ride him, bouncing up and down "Bloody hell I‘ll give you a whole damn zoo If that‘s what‘s going to happen after." he says while gripping your hips and fucking right up into your thankful pussy

Draco Malfoy:

he didn‘t know what to do at first, your cold shoulder towards him felt like a knife in his chest even tho he knew he deserved it

he said some things to you in an argument he wasn‘t proud of, too ashamed when he knew you only wanted the best for him

The only thing he knew was showering you in gifts which would work with little things but not this. You wanted him to apologize with real words.

after days of giving you gift after gift he realized for himself that it wasn‘t going to work.

"Darling? Do you have a minute?" he would ask to which you just nod slighty

He would take a deep breath before speaking " I am sorry for what I said. I truly am. And I never should have said that to you or let my frustration out on you I‘m really ashamed of what vame out of my mouth when everything you wanted was just the best mor me."

It felt like a stone fell from his heart after speaking what he had thought for days and your happy face told him it was just what you wanted to hear

"Shit y/n –" he groans when you take him deeper into your mouth, looking up at him with innocent eyes.

"Just wait what we‘ll do after that pretty boy." you chuckled before taking him back knto your mouth and sucking him for dear life.

thank u for reading I hope u liked it 🫶🏻

taglist: @justarandomcanadiantransdude @helendeath @thatonepansexual2000 @imabee-oralizard @supernaturaldawning @sofa-couch26 @little-miss-naill @kolsangel @itsarajr @jolly4holly @hisparentsgallerryy @slytherinscreamqueen @mixvchelle @littlemadamred @ummmmmmm-username @jeannie-beannie @belle-blue @izriddle @danaeneocleous @sagetakami [if you wanna be removed tell me 💞]

xoxo sarah <3

[anantaru]

— rejecting his cuddles

rejecting his cuddles feat. al-haitham, cyno, diluc, scaramouche x gn! reader

a/n: i spontaneously wrote this after coming home from a night out while craving fluff and cute things

genre: fluff, we're a lil bad for messing with them but who cares, right

— al-haitham

"no thanks!"

you couldn't possibly reject his attempt to cuddle you right now, or could you?

at first, al-haitham‘s smile will slowly drop, not at the reason you might think because he actually is sure this has a deeper meaning, right?

jokes aside, actually he had you figured out from the start but wanted to see how far you would go, putting on the best fake facade one could pull off, it's almost as if he was a natural at deceiving people.

"no.. thanks?" al-haitham was quite impressed on how you managed to reject him this smoothly, it even hurt a little if he was being honest.

He wasn't stupid though, he was aware you were clearly messing with him, his little angel could be a little brat sometimes, that's what he cherished and loved about you as well.

maybe.. he should just try again, right?

with that in mind, al-haitham opened his arms again to advance towards your body to close the distance only for you to wiggle yourself away before he could catch up to you.

"no thanks, i‘m good!"

okay, maybe you were quite cruel today, you honestly didn‘t think much of it and wanted to tease your boyfriend, it was mostly him who would triumph over you so it was natural for some payback here and there.

curiosity got the best of you and that‘s why you were pushing your little scheme a bit further than you actually anticipated to do in the first place, seeking a reaction from your boyfriend.

the second rejection was a literal whiplash right into his face, but then it went clear as day to him, the solution to all of this warmly greeting him.

"okay."

if you could play such game, he surely could do so as well, he deducted that if he was to ignore you now, your fake facade would fall within seconds.

how else were you supposed to keep playing this with him not giving you any attention anymore?

al-haitham was about to get up from his seat as you quickly grabbed his wrist, holding him down.

"okay i was joking don‘t go!"

the slight worry on your face was hilarious to him, how he knew you like the back of his hand was almost scary. In his eyes there wasn‘t anything easier than figuring you out.

"you should stop messing with me before i‘m thinking of a way to get back at you."

— cyno

the general mahamatra had a busy life, cyno was on duty every day and once he got home after a long night, the least you could do is hug him!

today you felt like you should play a little trick on him, just for a quick giggle in your relationship. Contrary to popular belief, cyno was actually an overly humorous person, even though his jokes mostly didn‘t land as he intended them to.

with that you heard the front door open with cyno following suit. You decided to greet him as always and walked towards your boyfriend as he tiredly smiled into your direction, already opening his arms.

"how was your day?"

normally you would‘ve hugged him first and then ask him a question, but today you stood right in front of him without drawing yourself into his embrace.

"it was good, come here." once cyno noticed you weren‘t moving an inch, he thought he should be the one to just hug you instead, yet after attempting to do just that …

"no thanks."

there was an awkward silence followed by cyno looking at you in slight disbelief and irritation. His eyes were low lidded and his expression tired, he really just wanted a hug!

"okay, i understand and respect it, but i don't agree with it."

typical cyno, now that you think back at it you don't really know how you expected him to respond to you. He was a gentleman at heart and immensely respected you.

yet though he didn‘t let it on, this was truly the worst thing that happened to him, yet he obviously doesn‘t want to force you either.

with a flash of guilt throwing itself at you like a fierce force, you quickly stopped him with a big hug from behind, resting your head on his back with your arms tightly shut around him.

"i‘m just messing with you, i‘m sorry."

ending your little sentence with a tiny giggle to soothe the mood, cyno turned around to face you at last, looping his arms around your body in return.

"hah, funny."

— diluc

in any other case diluc wouldn't think too much of it, but the way you were denying his physical affection did throw him off in an unnatural amount.

"no thank you, i'm satiated."

"satiated?" the word blurted out of his mouth in an irritated way, he became confused and unable to recall what the most alarming aspect of this situation was right now.

the fact you didn't want his cuddles, which you once stated were the absolute best, or the fact that you stated you were quote on quote, satiated.

satiated by who?

the urge to throw himself into your embrace was always there, but he didn't want to make you uncomfortable. Diluc was patient with you and so were you with him.

yet he would lie if he didn't feel worried about this, the poor guy having not a single chance of noticing that you were clearly messing with him out of sheer boredom.

as a matter of fact, you didn't intend to go this far, nor did you think diluc would grow this anxious now, making up your mind you decided to end your little play after all as he spoke again.

"is something wrong? if i did something you must speak to me."

noticing how he shifted his eyes around the room, the guilt consumed you from within with your hands quickly grabbing his waist to draw him towards your warm body.

"I'm so sorry, i was trying to mess with you don't worry please."

with a momentary silence and his body frozen, he sighed in relief upon snuggling close to you, feeling the fastened beat of his heart, or was it yours?

"hmpf, maybe i shouldn't hug you for a while."

your eyes widened at his overly cheeky, teasing wording, your lips carved into a pout as you searched for his face, placing your hands on his shoulders.

"it was kaeya's idea, not mine!"

— scaramouche

it wasn't often for scaramouche to search for a hug, not that he didn't want to hug you but he still wasn't completely accustomed to it, to trust a person again and simply relax under their touch.

one might say you were cruel for even thinking of pranking him, because who knows how he would react?

you, will now, know, this sliding second, when he suddenly came back from a long boring day, wiggling himself out of his shoes before he came walking towards you.

it became a slight habit of yours to hug whenever one of you would meet the other so scaramouche didn't think too much of it, he was actually looking quite forward to cuddle with you, so when he finally reached his desired destination, you backed away.

"lets not."

his brow raised almost immediately with his eyes lightly scrunched together in irritation, "lets not .. what?"

his voice had an annoying edge, the one you knew far too well. Sometimes scaramouche involuntarily spoke like that, he didn't even mean to come off as rude but it was a natural thing laced in his tone.

"i don't want a hug, thank you for the kind offer though."

the dazed look of bewilderment on his face was adorable, you felt bad for even finding it cute in the first place as scaramouche continued to tilt his head to the side, rambling in a low murmur.

"i don't buy it, you're the one who can't get enough of my hugs so what are you planning this time?"

his arms crossed around his body, a smirk of his brought out a sense of mischief he was way too good at, a fleeting thought of innocent fun.

in that moment he closed the distance to you almost completely, his eyes piercing daggers into your soul when he spoke once again.

"can you hug me now or what, i don't have all day for this."

the click of his tongue was all it took you to understand that he had figured you out yet again. in all honesty, you didn't know what you expected in the first place.

with a giggle announcing itself out of your throat, you quickly gathered him in your arms, nuzzling him into your warm chest.

scaramouche returned your call and embraced you back with his arms tightly clamped around your body, the pressure applied behind it made it difficult for you to breathe, he was practically clamping onto you.

in that moment you noticed how his breathing was erratic and uneven as well, as if for one tiny second, he really did think he had done something to pain you, something to lose you.

©2022 anantaru do not share, copy, translate

[skipper1331]

Secret (3) // Alexia Putellas

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | extra |

You woke up with a pounding in your head, the alcohol showing its aftereffects.

This wasn’t your bedroom… but why was it so familiar? When you slowly sat up, you tried to orientate yourself, only the few rays of sunlight illuminating the room. Angry grumbles filled the room as you did so - that‘s when it hit you.

Alexia,

the woman who grumbled furiously in her sleep when you left her touch. The person who hated it when she couldn’t have at least one arm around you while sleeping - "I need to protect you."

And indeed you were right, Ale was peacefully sleeping next to you, hidden under the duvet, soft snores escaping her mouth.

You looked down your body, you were naked and littered in hickeys - Alexia had done a great job in marking you, her possessiveness apparently taking over.

How did this happen…?

Pulling the duvet back up to cover your exposed body, your eyes fell once again on the sleeping beauty.

You knew you should leave before she woke up, but you couldn't. You were under her spell - you had to stay, at least for a few more minutes. She looked so peaceful, so relaxed.

Your broken heart was healing by just looking at her - you knew it was wrong but what your mind said and heart felt were different pair of shoes.

After a good 10 minutes you were finally able to tear yourself away as you gathered your clothes from the floor and headed out of the bedroom, putting on your clothes.

You couldn’t leave yet though, knowing that her head would hurt as much as yours did at the moment. so you walked into the kitchen, pouring a glass of water, made a sandwich and got some painkillers against the headache - not for yourself but for Alexia.

With breakfast and pills in your hand, you walked back into her bedroom as quietly as possible. You put it down on her nightstand, intending to leave the room when the midfielder turned around, her hand reaching for you.

You froze.

"5 more minutes amor" she mumbled with her eyes closed, "por favor"

Not knowing what to do, you bend down, caressing her cheek and sweetly kissing her forehead "okay" like you always had done it.

"Te amo"

-

The first thing you did when you arrived at home was laying down on the couch, turning on the tv.

You had the day off, you were hungover - no need to do anything else but relax.

Around afternoon, your door bell rang.

You groaned, annoyed that you had to get up and pause your show in the middle of a thrilling scene.

As you opened the door, you were met with flowers - you couldn’t even the see the person who was holding them, that much flowers in their hands.

"Come in" you took some of the flowers - they looked amazing and smelled like spring - the person grateful for your help. The person followed you to the kitchen, still a bunch of flowers blocking their view.

Arrived in the kitchen, they put them down on the counter, revealing who she was but you knew that already.

Alexia,

was the only person who knew all of your favourite flowers and the only person who ever bought you some.

"hola" she greeted, nervously playing with her fingers.

She hadn’t been here in quite some time.

"Thank you for the breakfast this morning" she said.

Shortly after you had left, the midfielder had woken up, the smell of sandwiches filling the room and the feeling of something - someone - missing, waking her up.

She knew it was you straightaway, not only because of obvious reasons and parts of her memory but also the sandwich gave it away. You were never big fan of taking pills without food in your stomach and you had scowled at Alexia each time when she did so.

You nodded, continuing to put the flowers in vases - just as your body was littered in hickeys, your kitchen island was littered in varieties of flowers, many questions in your head

Why was she her? With flowers? So many of them too? How many were there anyway? Surely not just for a thank you.

"513" she said, almost as if she could read your mind. Somehow she could. She always knew what you thought or what you needed yet she was just too stupid to fulfill the one thing that you actually needed for this relationship to work.

"One for each day where I didn't tell anyone about us plus 20 for the 20€ I offered Alba" she explained, looking directly at you, "I’m sorry- very sorry for- well, for everything. I’m sorry for not taking you out on dates. I’m so sorry for letting you feel like my dirty little secret and for neglecting you outside of our apartments. You did not and do not deserve that because you‘re" subconsciously the corners of her lips turned upwards, her eyes turning into heart eyes, "you are truly amazing and wonderful and pretty and perfect, and the nicest, most caring and loving person I know and so much more" she carried on, "I did not deserve your kindness. I was scared because the feelings you let me feel are so overwhelming and I thought if we- told other people and then broke up, that I wouldn’t recover from that. The thought of the media and fans harassing us scared me too, more than I like to admit. It‘s no excuse, I just wanted to let you know. But the truth is it made no difference whether the people knew about us or not because I am not recovering from my heart break. And that‘s my own fault. You deserve better than me, I know that, but it kills me to imagine you with someone else. I want to do better. I need to do better and fight for us? because you- you are the love of my life. All of your romance books combined wouldn’t be enough to describe the things i feel for you."

You had stopped your movements awhile ago, shocked about everything she was telling you, "even just seeing you with my sister angered the Hulk out of me and we share the same blood" you let out a shaky laugh, the Hulk movie sadly one of the worst Marvel movies you had watched together.

Both of you were silent for a moment, "i‘m-"

"I-"

small giggles escaped the two of you as you started at the same time, "please continue" Ale said, smiling slightly.

"I don‘t know what to say, if I’m being honest" you admitted, overwhelmed by the situation.

"You don‘t have to. I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry and how sorry I truly am. I was never ashamed of you, just scared. You can do whatever you want with that now"

you let her words sink in, hands gripping the kitchen counter while you‘re mind was trying to process everything.

"I‘m hoping that one day, you‘ll be able to forgive me" she inhaled sharply, "and eventually for another chance." it was mumbled, almost inaudible.

She looked so small and vulnerable while she avoided eye contact. Her elegant and strict presence wasn‘t existing anymore, she was just a girl with a broken heart.

"Ale-"

"You don’t- i know- i- I’ll be waiting for you" she muttered, getting up. She walked around the kitchen island, pressing a gentle yet longing and lingering kiss to your temple, tearfully pulling back. She just couldn't stop herself from giving you that little kiss.

Was it the last one forever?

"Lo siento muchísimo"

You let her walk out of the kitchen as she turned around one last time, standing at door the door frame, "i will fight for you unless you say something else"

You were too stunned and shocked to say anything. Everything that happened in the last few minutes played out over and over again in your mind while your eyes followed the midfielder walking out of view.

So many thoughts argued in your head - not one thought clear, nor one gaining the upper hand. Everything was blurry, so confusing. Why couldn't it be easy? Love was so easy for everyone else... why not for you?

You had a good heart - you had to do it.

As usual, your mind was completely against it, but your heart and brain never shared the same opinion. You wanted it - you wanted her. Your heart was practically screaming after her which was why you followed her.

You wouldn’t let her walk through that door, like she had let you.

"Alexia"

She stopped in her tracks, not turning around, expecting you to tell her that there was no point in fighting for you.

Just get over it, please

"Look at me" your voice sounded firm yet caring. She couldn’t predict what your next move was - she was completely clueless, but expected more hurt than just her broken heart which already was one of the worst pains, she had ever suffered from.

Nonetheless she obeyed.

As you looked at her, you realized that your heart wasn‘t able to fight against your brain.

If you forgave her now, it would just show how easy it was to manipulate you.

An apology, no matter how sincere it was and no matter how sweet it was that she had bought you flowers (which had probably cost a lot), wouldn’t heal your wounds. Your pride and pain was still too present. It wouldn't be that easy for her. She had some serious groveling to do.

This time her name wasn’t enough for her to get everything she wanted or had set her mind to.

"Don‘t forgot to drink enough water" you said, internally slapping yourself for that comment.

Your heart wanted to say 'Promise me to try hard enough', so she would know that there was still hope. Because there was. She was your love and your greatest love story. Every part in your body loved her and she loved you, but sometimes love wasn‘t (strong) enough. And even though she didn‘t deserve you at the moment, she deserved the chance to fight for you. She just had to figure that by herself.

You let her walk through that door, like she had let you, hoping that she would try hard enough.

[celuere]

I don't know if you have done this already, but could you do hc of vampire Arlecchino? I literally can't stop thinking about this.

Been on a Vampire!Arle brainrot for the last days and UGHHHHHHHHHHJJ DMMNKANDNQND the way she can suck me DRY. Like in my poll I did a few weeks back about what I should write next, I mentioned the option of a Vampire!Arle x Hunter!reader and let me indulge you in my scheming and what you can expect.

Most Vampire Hunter works I’ve read, they somehow always end up being human. Barely a match for a vampire BUT what speaks against another mythical creature hunting for the blood suckers? A Fae for example?

Now, Fae‘s are- well, Faeries just without the wings. Possessing over the same supernatural abilities of a vampire along with a wide range of elemental powers, light/shadow manipulation etc. and over a VERY long lifespan. Known to be unnaturally beautiful beings and their blood-

Their blood is known to be absolutely delectable.

So there is the Hunter Organization of the Fae and the Fatui Clan. The oldest and most dangerous Vampire Clan with its eleven Fatui Harbingers, Arle being a human-turned-vampire through the Tsaritsa and NOW I can get to my headcanons. I sadly can’t go into much details or else I would spoil the plot of my Vampire Arle work💔

slightly suggestive, MDNI

Still hosting the HotH, the orphans being either Vampire fledglings or human children which she had to turn in order for them to survive. She helps them accustom to their life for example how to control and manage their bloodthirst, how to choose their prey correctly and feast on them without killing them accidentally.

Now, since Vampires age completely different than humans, I’d say Arle would have the physical appearance of a 35 yo old woman while already being +1000 years old, meaning she counts as an ancient Vampire already

Actually rarely goes hunting for human blood and prefers animals, but since their blood isn’t as nutritious as human blood, she has to drink way more often than her colleagues. Sometimes if she DOES get hungry for something other than animals she goes out and snatches the first pretty thing on the street she can find.

She‘s a good drinker. Making sure the victim is passed out and buries her fangs into a spot that’s less hurtful, she might be a monster but that doesn’t mean she has to act like one.

Oh but when she gets her hands on the pretty hunter fae that’s been on her ass for the past decades… she may never want anything else. (I don’t wanna spoiler too much😌)

Vampire‘s have their own laws. Some of them for example is that they have a STRICT hierarchy and I mean STRICT. Like an ordinary dude disrespecting her out of nowhere? That‘s a dead man. That also means that the head of the Fatui Clan - the Tsaritsa - has utmost authority. Her word IS the law. That’s not even something Arlecchino wants to defy… well maybe she’ll make an exception for you.

She is possessive of her prey. I mean that with all my heart. Once a Vampire claimed ownership over a certain individual, it‘s by Vampire law their very own property. Any inappropriate approaches by someone else of her kind is deemed hostile and she IS allowed to get rid of them, no matter their status. And she will.

I think I’d be funny to see her turn into a cute little bat. She‘d be so adorable.

She does frown at Childe whenever he just takes a drink in front of her, like no- she doesn’t wanna see that.

But on the other she could not care LESS if Columbina is sitting in front of her and drinking her third man of the day dry. Nuh uh, she doesn’t drink from pretty ladies, she thinks they’re too precious.

A teasing little shit when she gets to have a taste of you. Having you neatly seated in her lap, bare neck exposed to her- goodness you look beautiful when you wait for her to get a drink of you.

Her hands CANNOT stay in one place once she sunk her teeth into your skin. Grabbing onto your hips, then the next they’re running through your hair, opening up your ponytail so she can grab a better handful to tug your head back.

She‘d never just drink from one spot. After your neck she‘d take your hand gently into hers and guides it up to her lips before she buries her fangs into your wrist. Crossed-pupils always watching you, analyzing you before you eventually grow limp from her intake of blood, that’s when she‘ll stop.

She‘d get a drink by biting straight into your tit or your inner thigh but maybe that’s just me.

Afterwards she‘d clean up the bloody bite marks and gently lay you down on your bed, filling you up a glass of strawberry juice (lots of iron, good for your blood) and place it with a bowl of oatmeal on your nightstand. She is caring like that.

If you can’t tell I’m very obsessed with the idea. Sedate me please.

[daryldicksuckon69]

Unspoken Truths (16+)

Pair: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Era: Alexandria Era (No particular season, Glenn, Abraham live and there's no Saviors)

Tags: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Teasing by the whole group

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: none

Summary: Daryl and Reader and reminded that they need to step into reality and admit the growing attraction between the two of them that literally everyone else sees except them.

@futuremilfemma hey :) i saw that your request were open and i had something in my mind 🤭 first of all i love your fics and your writing style especially in „ride his motorcycle“ when the character had this cute relationship with the women of the group and their little gossip sessions. sooo i was wondering if you could write something like this: the group finally settles down in alexandria (pre negan) the reader and daryl have known eachother since the quarry (they went hunting together. bonded over past trauma, etc.) and they have always hit it off and are now labeled as best friends but everyone around them can see that they feel more. like they try and convince them to confess and all but they just keep admiring eachother from afar especially daryl when he sees the reader getting ready for the party at deanna‘s? sorry if that‘s too much i would just love reading something like this

A/N: Thanks for the request emma, I hope this is what you were looking for. I was keke-ing while writing about the girls and guys teasing reader and daryl haha

The walls of Alexandria loomed in the distance, a symbol of safety and normalcy in a world where both had become distant memories. Daryl, perched against the frame of the front porch, watched the community come alive. People bustled about, preparing for a party Deanna was hosting that night—a strange but welcome change of pace from the endless survivalist days on the road.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about all this. The quiet, the calm—it unnerved him. It was a stark contrast to the constant danger they’d faced since the prison, the farm; since anything in his life, even before people lost their brains: Alexandria seemed almost too good to be true.

And then there was you.

You had been with him from the beginning, always by his side during hunts, sharing long silences and stories of past hurts, unspoken but understood. Over the years, you’d become his anchor, the one person he could trust completely. The one person he didn’t feel judged by, and the one who saw past his rough exterior. You got him in a way no one else did.

Which is why it was complicated now, more than ever.

His gaze flickered to the house where you were getting ready for the party. The curtains were drawn back, and he could see you through the open window. You’d always been beautiful to him, though he’d never said it aloud. That wasn’t his way, after all. But tonight, something was different. Maybe it was the fact that you had spent so long getting ready, or maybe it was the way the soft glow of the evening light bathed you in an ethereal warmth. Whatever it was, Daryl couldn’t look away.

You were standing in front of a mirror, adjusting the dress he’d recognised all too well. 

You and Daryl had gone on a supply run, just the two of you—like old times. Though Alexandria offered some respite from the chaos, there were still days when you both preferred the quiet of the woods, where the only sounds were your footsteps and the rustle of leaves.

It had been a rough few days, though. A week ago, Spencer, Mayor Deanna’s son, had rejected you. The memory of his dismissive words still stung—how he’d said you were “nice,” but he wasn’t looking for anything serious. It wasn’t just the rejection that hurt, but the way he’d made you feel small, like you were an afterthought.

Daryl hadn’t pried, but he knew something was off. He’d seen the sadness you tried to hide and how your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes lately.

“Need somethin’?” Daryl asked as he pulled open the door to what used to be a boutique, stepping inside first to make sure it was clear.

“No, just looking,” you muttered, following him in. The boutique was a sad shell of its former self. Clothes lay scattered across the floor, mannequins toppled, and the scent of dust and decay filled the air.

You trailed behind him, not really interested in finding anything specific—just glad to be moving. Daryl moved with his usual quiet intensity, sifting through racks with a practised eye. He didn’t speak much, but his presence was a comfort. He’d always been that for you, even when words weren’t necessary.

As you wandered near the back of the store, your gaze fell on a shattered mirror. You stared at your reflection for a moment, feeling the weight of Spencer’s rejection creeping back in. The cracked glass seemed to echo how you felt inside—fractured, unimportant.

Suddenly, Daryl’s voice cut through your thoughts. “Hey.”

You turned, and your heart skipped at the sight of him holding up a dress—a simple, sleeveless one in a soft, faded green. He held it awkwardly, like he wasn’t sure how to handle it, but his expression was serious as ever. “Thought this might suit ya.”

For a moment, you were speechless. The idea of Daryl, tough and rugged, holding up a dress for you was almost surreal. But the sincerity in his eyes softened the moment.

“Me?” You arched a brow, stepping closer to inspect the dress. “You really think so?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged, not meeting your eyes. “Kinda matches your eyes, I guess. I dunno.” He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable but pushing through. “Just… figured ya might like it. After… y’know.”

It took you a second to realise what he meant. After Spencer. It wasn’t just that Spencer had rejected you– it was the casual way he’d brushed you aside, as though your feelings were nothing more than an inconvenience. It has cut deeper than you wanted to admit.

The realisation made your chest tighten, but not with sadness this time���with something else. He wasn’t just showing you a dress. He was trying to make you feel better, in the way only Daryl could.

A soft smile tugged at your lips. “Thanks, Daryl. That’s… sweet.”

He grunted, clearly embarrassed, his gaze darting away. “Ain’t nothin’. Just a stupid dress.”

But you shook your head. “No, it’s not stupid. I like it.”

For the first time in days, you felt the shadow that had been hanging over you lift just a little. The dress was a gesture, small but significant. Daryl didn’t give compliments easily, and for him to go out of his way to do something like this—it meant more than you could put into words.

You took the dress from his hands, feeling the worn fabric between your fingers. “Maybe I’ll wear it to the next one of Deanna’s parties,” you joked lightly, trying to ease the tension.

Daryl’s eyes flicked to yours, and for a split second, something unreadable passed between you. “You should,” he muttered, his voice low but firm. “You’d look real good.”

You blinked, surprised by the weight behind his words. His gaze lingered on yours for a moment longer before he turned back to the rack of clothes, mumbling something under his breath. It wasn’t like Daryl to give compliments, much less ones that carried so much weight.

Your heart fluttered at the thought.

Tucking the dress under your arm, you smiled softly to yourself. Spencer’s rejection suddenly seemed like a distant memory. Maybe it didn’t matter what he thought. Maybe the only person whose opinion really mattered was standing right in front of you.

He saw the way you ran your hands over the fabric, smoothing it down before reaching up to touch your hair. It was rare to see you like this—clean, dressed up. It made his heart race in a way he couldn’t quite explain. He wasn’t even sure if you ever really noticed how hard he tried, in his own way, to make you feel like you mattered.

“What’re you starin’ at, Dixon?”

Daryl stiffened at the voice behind him. Rick. Of course.

“Nothin’,” he muttered, turning away from the window as if caught doing something wrong. But Rick wasn’t buying it, and the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth told Daryl that much.

“Yeah, sure. Nothin’.” Rick chuckled softly, clapping a hand on Daryl’s shoulder. “Everyone sees it, you know.”

Daryl frowned, his eyes narrowing. “Sees what?”

Rick raised an eyebrow. “You and her. You think nobody’s noticed the way you two are? C’mon, Daryl. It’s obvious.”

Daryl shifted uncomfortably, his boots scraping against the porch floor. He wanted to scoff, shrug it off like Rick was wrong, but the truth stuck in his throat like splinters. It wasn't just how you made him feel—he was terrified of what would happen if you knew.

“Ain’t like that.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” Rick’s tone was teasing but gentle, like he knew exactly what Daryl was feeling. “You ever think about just… telling her?”

Daryl’s throat tightened at the thought. Confess? To you? The idea seemed ridiculous. You were his best friend—why would you want anything more from a guy like him? You deserved better. Someone who could give you more than just broken words and awkward silences.

“Nah,” he finally muttered. “Ain’t my place.”

Rick sighed, giving him a sympathetic look. “You’re not fooling anyone. Just think about it.”

With that, Rick walked away, leaving Daryl alone with his thoughts. He huffed in frustration, casting another glance toward your window. You were moving now, stepping back from the mirror to admire your reflection. A soft smile touched your lips, and something inside Daryl clenched.

He didn’t deserve to feel this way, did he? Not about you.

But he couldn’t help it.

The small house in Alexandria buzzed with excitement as you stood in front of the mirror, tugging at the green dress Daryl had found for you on that run weeks ago. You weren’t exactly used to getting dressed up, and the idea of attending Deanna’s party made you feel awkward, even if the people around you seemed eager for a night of normalcy.

Behind you, Rosita lounged on the bed with her legs crossed, twirling a strand of her hair, while Carol and Maggie were sorting through a small pile of accessories on the table. Michonne leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed, a knowing smirk already playing at her lips.

“You know,” Rosita said, eyeing you with a sly grin, “if you’re getting all dolled up like that, maybe it’s not just for the party.”

You blinked at her through the mirror. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, c’mon,” Carol chimed in, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “You’ve been wearing that same look all afternoon. Like you’re not sure if you’re nervous about the party or something else… or someone else.”

Your cheeks burned instantly, and you turned to look at her. “Carol, don’t start—”

“Daryl,” Maggie finished for her, waggling her eyebrows playfully. “We’re talking about Daryl.”

You groaned, shaking your head, but the teasing only intensified. Michonne smirked, uncrossing her arms and stepping closer. “Oh yeah. It’s obvious,” she added. “The way he looks at you… like he’s ready to rip apart anyone who so much as breathes in your direction.”

“Pfft,” Rosita snickered, shifting on the bed. “That man’s got it bad for you. I mean, you’ve been glued to his side since day one. You’re practically the Bonnie to his Clyde. Except way less murder-y… sometimes.”

You laughed despite yourself. “We’re just friends.”

Maggie let out a small chuckle, shaking her head. “If you two are ‘just friends,’ then Rick and Michonne are still ‘just patrolling together,’” she teased, throwing a playful glance at Michonne, who raised a brow in mock offense.

“Hey, at least Rick and I own it now,” Michonne quipped, smirking. “You two? You’ve been dancing around each other forever.”

“Maybe he’s just waiting for the right moment,” Carol said thoughtfully, her smile turning softer. “Daryl’s like that. He’s patient, but… when he cares about someone, he doesn’t let go.”

You bit your lip, trying to ignore the way your heart sped up at her words. It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about it before—about Daryl, about what he meant to you. But you’d always pushed those thoughts aside. Why ruin a good thing?

Rosita, though, wasn’t about to let you off the hook. She stood up and walked over, grinning as she picked up a necklace from the table and held it up to your neck. “Come on, admit it. You’ve noticed the way he looks at you, haven’t you? He watches you like you’re the last good thing in this world.”

You swallowed hard, your mind drifting back to the way Daryl had looked at you earlier today when you caught him staring before the party. The way his eyes softened just slightly, the way he averted his gaze as if he was afraid of being caught.

Maggie smirked, stepping closer and nudging your arm. “Face it, girl. Y’all are the definition of ‘cute couple that won’t admit it.’”

“I—” you started, but Michonne cut you off, crossing her arms again with a teasing grin.

“Daryl may be rough around the edges, but let me tell you, when it comes to you…” She paused for dramatic effect, raising a brow. “He’d take real good care of you.”

Your face went hot. “Michonne!”

“What?” Rosita laughed, slinging an arm around your shoulder as she wiggled her brows. “You know it’s true. He’s got that whole protective thing going on, like he’s just waiting to step in and—”

“Rosita, stop,” you groaned, covering your face in embarrassment.

But the room erupted into laughter, and even you couldn’t help but smile behind your hands. The teasing was relentless, but you knew it came from a place of love. They saw something in the way Daryl and you interacted—something you had been too scared to fully acknowledge yourself.

As the laughter died down, Carol stepped forward, her expression soft and kind. “We’re only teasing because we care about you. And him. He might not be good with words, but Daryl… he shows how he feels in other ways.”

Maggie nodded, her voice gentle. “Like finding that dress for you. You know he didn’t just stumble on it by accident, right? He wanted you to have something nice. For yourself.”

“I can think of something else he wants her to have all to herself,” Rosita quips, turning the room into a bottle of laughter once again. 

You looked down at the green fabric, brushing your fingers over it. Daryl had given it to you during one of your lowest moments, and you hadn’t realised until now how much it truly meant. It wasn’t just a dress. It was his way of saying he saw you, that you mattered to him.

Rosita gave you a playful nudge. “He may not say it out loud, but actions speak louder than words, right?”

You met her eyes through the mirror, and for a moment, everything felt so clear. The tension between you and Daryl had been building for so long, and maybe—just maybe—it was time to stop pretending it didn’t exist.

“Whatever happens tonight,” Maggie said, adjusting a bracelet on your wrist, “just remember—we all think you two would be great together.”

“Yeah,” Rosita added with a wink, “and don’t be surprised if Daryl tries to ‘take real good care of you’ later.”

You groaned again, laughing despite yourself. “You guys are terrible.”

Michonne grinned, her voice low and teasing. “Terrible? Maybe. But we’re right.”

And deep down, you really wanted them to be right.

The sun had begun to set by the time the party was in full swing. The house was filled with laughter, chatter, and the clinking of glasses as the residents of Alexandria tried to pretend, just for a moment, that the world outside wasn’t in ruins. Daryl stood in the corner, his arms crossed over his chest, scanning the room with the practised eye of someone who never quite let his guard down.

And then you walked in.

He hadn’t seen you since earlier when you were getting ready, and now that you were here, it was like all the air had been sucked out of the room. The dress you wore was simple, but it hugged your frame in a way that made Daryl’s heart stutter. Your hair was loose, framing your face, and your eyes… your eyes were searching the room until they found him.

When you smiled, his throat went dry.

Daryl quickly looked away, feeling like an idiot. He was supposed to be a damn hunter, a man of few words, not some lovesick fool gawking at his best friend from across the room.

“Wow,” came a voice at his side. Daryl looked over to see Carol, who had caught his reaction and was now giving him a knowing grin. “You really should tell her, you know.”

“Not you too,” Daryl grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

Carol chuckled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “I’m just saying, Daryl. It’s been obvious for a long time. She feels the same way—you can see it in the way she looks at you.”

Daryl shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t know how to respond to that. Feel the same way? No. That couldn’t be possible. Could it?

“Why don’t you go talk to her?” Carol nudged him gently. “It’s a party, after all.”

Daryl hesitated. He wasn’t good with this kind of stuff—feelings, emotions, talking. But as he glanced back at you, standing there, laughing with Maggie and Glenn, he realised that maybe Rick and Carol were right.

You spotted him as he was walking out into the yard, your eyes lighting up as you excused yourself from the conversation and made your way over to him just outside the house.

He could spend the rest of his life admiring you from afar, or he could take a risk.

"I'm goin' out for a smoke," Daryl nods, as he leaves through the back door.

The dim street light reflected the sheen of sweat on his toned bicep, Daryl’s eye locked on you as you made your way over to him. It was hard to see his expression as the setting of the sun glared in your eyes.

His heart pounded in his chest as you approached, every step making him more nervous than he’d ever been facing walkers.

“Hey,” you greeted softly, stopping just in front of him. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah,” Daryl mumbled, avoiding your gaze for a moment before finally looking at you. “You, uh… you look nice.”

You smiled, a hint of surprise flickering in your eyes. “Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

He snorted at that, shaking his head. “Ain’t nothin’ fancy ‘bout me.”

“I like you just the way you are,” you said, your voice soft but sincere.

Daryl’s breath caught in his throat. There it was again—that feeling. The one he’d been trying to ignore for so long. The one that made his heart race whenever you were near. He swallowed hard, unsure of what to say.

Before he could stop himself, the words came tumbling out.

“You ever think about… us?”

Your brow furrowed slightly in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Us,” he repeated, his voice rougher than he intended. “I mean… hell, I dunno. Everyone keeps sayin’… like maybe there’s more. Between us.”

You blinked, processing his words, and for a moment Daryl feared he’d made a huge mistake. But then your expression softened, and you took a small step closer.

“Yeah,” you admitted quietly. “I’ve thought about it. A lot.”

Daryl’s heart stuttered in his chest. “Yeah?”

You nodded, reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from his face. “I thought you’d never say anything.”

“I didn’t think I deserved to,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled at that, and the warmth in your eyes nearly undid him. “You’ve always deserved it, Daryl.”

And with that, the unspoken truth between you finally became clear. You had always been more than just best friends. You had always been each other’s home, in this world of chaos and ruin.

Maybe it was time you both admitted it.

The moment hung between you and Daryl like a fragile thread, one pull away from unraveling everything. His admission still echoed in your ears, making your heart race. You stood in front of him, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body, your pulse quickening with each second that passed. You could feel the tension—thick, electric—stretching between you, both of you aware that this was a moment you couldn’t come back from.

You swallowed, your throat tight. “Daryl…”

He was still avoiding your gaze, the vulnerability in his expression so foreign it almost took your breath away. Daryl Dixon, the man who had survived everything, was scared—of you, of what this meant. You could see it in the way his hands clenched into fists at his sides, the way his jaw tightened as if he was bracing himself for something he couldn’t control.

But there was something else in his eyes too. Something raw and hungry, something that made your skin tingle.

“Daryl,” you whispered again, softer this time, stepping closer. He didn’t back away. Instead, his blue eyes flickered up to meet yours, and the intensity there sent a shiver down your spine.

Before either of you could think twice, before you could second-guess or push it away, your hands found his jacket, gripping the worn leather like it was the only thing anchoring you to reality. His breath hitched as you closed the distance between you, and in the next heartbeat, your lips were on his.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative—like you were testing the waters, unsure of how far you could go. But the moment his lips moved against yours, the hesitation melted away. Daryl’s hands came up to your waist, pulling you closer as if he’d been holding himself back for too long. The gentle touch of his calloused fingers sent sparks through your skin, making you gasp against his mouth.

That was all the encouragement he needed.

The kiss deepened, his grip tightening around your waist as he pulled you flush against him. The world outside—the party, the people, the chaos—faded into the background until it was just you and Daryl. You could taste the intensity of his need, the years of unspoken words between you bleeding into every brush of your lips. He kissed you like you were the only thing that mattered, like he’d been starving for this—starving for you.

Your heart pounded as you tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging just enough to draw a low, guttural sound from the back of his throat. The noise sent a wave of heat rushing through your body, and suddenly, you wanted more. Needed more.

Daryl seemed to feel the same. His hands slid up your sides, his thumbs brushing the fabric of your dress in a way that made you shiver. He broke the kiss just long enough to look at you, his breath ragged, his eyes dark with want.

“You sure ‘bout this?” he rasped, his voice rough with restraint. His thumb traced slow circles on your hip, as though he was fighting against the very desire that had his body trembling with tension.

In response, you tugged him down again, crashing your lips against his. It wasn’t soft this time. It was all heat and desperation, like you couldn’t get enough of him, like you were trying to make up for all the time you’d spent denying this.

He groaned against your mouth, the sound vibrating through you as his hands gripped your hips harder, pulling you closer. You could feel his body against yours, all hard muscle and heat, and it made your knees weak. Without breaking the kiss, Daryl backed you against the nearest wall, your back pressing against the cool surface as his mouth trailed down your jawline to the sensitive skin of your neck.

“God, Daryl,” you breathed, your fingers clutching his shoulders as he kissed his way down your throat, the rough scrape of his stubble igniting a fire beneath your skin.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his lips swollen from the kiss, his breathing heavy. “I ain��t… I ain’t good at this,” he muttered, his voice low, filled with doubt. But there was a vulnerability there too, a softness that made your heart ache.

You cupped his face in your hands, brushing your thumb along his jawline. “You’re better than you think,” you whispered, leaning in to press another soft kiss to his lips.

The reassurance seemed to break whatever was left of his hesitation. His hands were back on you, running down your sides, his fingers skimming over your dress before gripping your thighs and lifting you up effortlessly. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and you could feel every inch of him pressed against you.

Daryl kissed you again, rougher this time, his hands sliding under your dress, fingertips brushing against bare skin. His touch was searing, leaving trails of fire in its wake, and the need pooling in your core only intensified. His body pressed against yours, pinning you against the wall, and you could feel the hard planes of his chest, the heat of his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Daryl…” you whispered, your breath hitching as his hands roamed higher, slipping beneath your dress. Every touch sent a shiver of pleasure through you, and you arched against him, craving more of his heat, more of him.

His lips were back on yours, his kiss desperate and demanding. You could feel the tension in his body, the way he held himself back, like he was afraid of losing control. But that was exactly what you wanted—you wanted him to lose control, to let go of all the tension he’d been holding for so long. His hands were gripping your waist, pulling you closer, and the heat between you was undeniable. His breath was heavy against your neck, lips grazing your skin, when—

“Daryl? You out here?” Rick’s voice cut through the air like a bucket of cold water.

Both of you froze, bodies tense and pressed together against the wall. You heard the sound of boots approaching, and panic shot through you. Daryl stepped back quickly, dropping his hands from your waist, but not before Rick rounded the corner, his brows shooting up in surprise.

“Oh, uh—sorry,” Rick said, holding up his hands in a mock surrender, though there was a smirk creeping onto his face. “Didn’t mean to… interrupt.”

Your face flushed red as you adjusted your dress, smoothing it down, while Daryl scrubbed a hand over his face, clearly flustered. His shoulders were still tense, and he shot Rick a look that could’ve melted steel.

Rick, ever the leader, just shrugged. “Deanna’s lookin’ for you two. Figured I’d check out back. Didn’t expect to find… this.”

You opened your mouth to say something—anything—but words failed you. The heat of the moment had been so intense, so all-consuming, that being yanked back to reality felt almost disorienting. Daryl, on the other hand, let out a low grunt, clearly still agitated by the sudden intrusion.

Rick, picking up on the tension, tried to backtrack. “Look, I’ll tell her I couldn’t find you. Give you some more time.”

“No,” you blurted, straightening your back and forcing a shaky laugh. “No, it’s fine. We’ll… we’ll be there in a minute.”

Rick nodded, the smirk still lingering on his lips as he backed away, throwing one last glance at Daryl. “Y’all take your time.”

As soon as he was gone, you and Daryl were left in awkward silence. You dared a glance at him, his eyes still burning with something you couldn’t quite place—frustration, embarrassment, maybe both. He let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head slightly.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, his voice rougher than usual. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

You swallowed hard, the moment that had felt so heated now replaced with a strange tension. But you managed a small smile, stepping closer and brushing your fingers lightly against his hand. “It’s not your fault.”

His gaze flickered to you, softer now, but still conflicted. He hesitated, like he wasn’t sure what to say next, but before he could speak, you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Come on,” you said, your voice gentle but firm. “Let’s get back inside.”

As you walked back inside, Daryl’s hand brushing yours was a silent promise. The air between you was charged with what had just happened, but there was a new understanding. “We’ll talk later,” you said quietly, and he nodded, a small smile breaking through his earlier tension.

The house was bustling when you walked back in, laughter and music filling the air, the warmth of the party wrapping around you like a blanket. You felt a bit dishevelled, your mind still lingering on what had almost happened out there.

As you stepped inside, you were greeted with knowing looks from your friends. Maggie’s eyes landed on you first, and she exchanged a smirk with Rosita, who was sitting on the couch. Carol and Michonne were nearby, their gazes flicking between you and Daryl, who had taken up his usual stance near the door, trying to stay invisible.

“Well, look who finally decided to show up,” Rosita teased, raising an eyebrow at you. Her eyes darted from you to Daryl, a grin spreading across her face. “You two were gone for a while. Everything okay?”

Your face flushed again, and you glanced at Daryl, who was doing his best to avoid everyone’s eyes. He mumbled something unintelligible under his breath, shuffling his feet, and you couldn’t help but laugh nervously.

“Yeah,” you managed, trying to sound casual. “We just… needed some air.”

“Uh-huh,” Maggie drawled, her tone dripping with amusement. “Is that what they call it these days?”

Carol, who had been watching quietly from the side, stepped forward with a soft smile. “Glad you two finally got some air. It’s about time.”

You blinked, unsure of how to respond, but before you could, Michonne chimed in, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. “You two need a map, or did you manage to find your way back okay?”

“Michonne!” you groaned, burying your face in your hands as everyone around you erupted into laughter. Even Rick, who had rejoined the group, couldn’t suppress his grin.

Daryl, still standing off to the side, cleared his throat awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable with all the attention. But there was a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You alright, Daryl?” Rick asked, his voice teasing but with genuine care beneath it.

Daryl grunted in response, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ain’t nothin’,” he muttered, but his eyes briefly flicked to you, and the tension between you was still there, simmering beneath the surface.

Rosita, never one to miss a beat, leaned back on the couch and sighed dramatically. “Well, if that’s what fresh air does, maybe we should all get some.”

Laughter rippled through the group again, and this time, you couldn’t help but laugh with them. The teasing, though relentless, was filled with warmth, and you felt a sense of relief wash over you. They weren’t judging you—they were happy. Happy that, after everything, you and Daryl had finally taken a step toward something more.

Carol caught your eye, her smile gentle as ever. “Don’t let us embarrass you too much. We’re just glad you both finally stopped dancing around it.”

As the laughter subsided, you and Daryl exchanged a look that spoke volumes. It wasn’t the end of the conversation, but it was a start. You reached out, gently touching his arm, and he responded with a nod. In the midst of the party’s warmth, there was a new, tentative promise between you—an acknowledgment of all the unspoken truths that had simmered between you for so long.

There was a new, tentative promise between you—a promise to face the unspoken truths head-on. It was a promise of more conversations, more moments, and perhaps, the start of a deeper connection where everything that had remained unsaid would finally have a place.

[bravo4iscool]

something angsty where the roles are reversed and simon's wife is working too much and he's worried about her overworking herself also they don't get to spend much time together and he misses her so they kinda have an argument

uhhhh i like the vision of this hehehehe🤭

i hope i did this justice haha (this is civilian!reader btw!). also, idk if this qualifies as a argument but i hope it does. if not, i‘m sorry😭

(masterlist)

REQUESTS/ASKS OPEN!!!

“what y’doin lovie?” simon mumbles while he looks over your shoulder, his palm resting on your back.

“working,” you answer, not looking at him and chewing on your pencil. “i gotta finish this until tomorrow.” you let out a tired sigh and rub your eyes. sometimes you really hated your job.

you could feel simon’s hand tense behind you when he slowly pulls it away. “you should take a break,” he tells you in a calm voice. “you’re working too much…”

you don’t answer, only let out another sigh and hunch over the papers again.

“i’m serious darlin’. y’should take a break,” simon says with an edge in his voice and you exactly know where this is heading.

you turn around to face him, “simon, please- not right now, okay?” you don’t wait for his answer, you just turn around and get back to work.

“yes, ’m doin‘ this now ‘cause y’haven’t been sleepin‘ properly f’days!” he argues and you can practically feel him judging you.

“yes, because opposite to you i need to actually work when i’m at home. i don’t get to sit around all day and do nothing!” you know that struck his nerve when he doesn‘t answer immediately and you massage the bridge of your nose. „Look, I‘m s-“

„I can up my deployment rate if thats what y’want,“ simon says and you could hear the reproach in his voice. „if y’don‘t want m’sittin‘ around doin‘ nothin‘ i can leave and tell price i want more deployments. then y’can work in peace.“

„simon, that‘s not-“

he doesn‘t let you finish. „that’s exactly it. y‘at home right now, y‘don‘t need t‘work.“ when you turn around he‘s looking at you with his arms crossed in front of his chest. you let out an annoyed sigh, not wanting to talk about this right now. „i‘ave been sleepin’ alone f‘days! i miss ya!“ simon exclaims, the hurt clear in his eyes. „i was looking forward t‘finally spent time w‘ya again…“

when you don‘t say anything against that he just rolls his eyes and leaves. „‘m going t‘sleep,“ is all he mumbles before he pulls the door shut behind him.

-

when you crawl into bed way past midnight you look at simon with worried eyes. he has his back turned to you but you can see that he isn‘t sleeping; he isn‘t snoring.

so, you urge closer to his and put your arm around his abdomen, your lips pressing a gentle kiss to his clothed back. „i‘m sorry,“ you whisper, hoping that he‘d accept this hushed apology.

you know he does when he places his hand over yours and starts to caress it. „y‘need to look after y‘self,“ he whispers back before he turns around and pulls you into his chest.

„i‘ll do better,“ you promise while he places a kiss on your head. „i didn’t know it hurt you so much…“

„i know.“ simon pulls you even closer, his hand cupping the back of your head. „but let‘s go to sleep now. we‘ll talk about it tomorrow.“

[tizeline]

The thing I probably love about your Tiz Sep Au is that Mikey is this powerful young mystic apprentice (or whatever his actual title is xD) and he genuinely doesn‘t like humans?? Like?? In every other au, Mikey is usually the one to be curious about human nature/culture, which is absolutely fine dont get me wrong, all those aus are so fun to read!! But in yours he doesn‘t and that‘s so fun to see!! He genuinely believes all humans are evil and deserve to be eradicated and he‘ll happily do so

Lmao yeah I felt like it would be a really fun diversion from the norm to have Mikey of all people be the most enthusiastic about the evil plan. At the same time, I think it makes sense in the context of the AU for Mikey to be the way that he is?

Mikey has a very strong moral compass and wants to do good, it's just not always easy to know that IS good and what isn't. In TSAU Mikey was told his entire life that yōkai are good and humans are evil. And like, he's still very young, he still has a rather naive and simplistic world view, a world view where humans are evil simply because they want to, and Mikey and his family are good guys because they have good intentions and that's all it takes to be a good guy!

Also, whenever Mikey has been shown in the AU so far, he's usually acting hostile towards humanity or something similar, and because of that he can come across as rather hateful, I guess? And I wanna emphasize that Mikey isn't a hateful person. Or- Well- maybe a little bit lol, he hates humans, but his hate towards humanity very much comes from his love towards yōkai-kind. Because whenever he's interacting with yōkai, Mikey is a LOT more similar to his canon counterpart, he's very kind and caring towards yōkai. He hates humanity because he's convinced that they're gonna eradicate his people, the people that he loves, really Mikey just wants to protect them.

And I'm not quite sure what exactly Mikey's title would be? He's definitely strong enough to be called a mystic warrior, but Draxum might still insist that Mikey remain in the apprentice-role for now. Mikey's powers are definitely a double-edged sword, he's a bit too powerful for his own good and as such risk hurting himself if he can't keep control of his magic. Because of that, Draxum would probably not let Mikey graduate from his apprentice-position until he's absolutely sure that Mikey can use his mystic abilities without turning himself into glitter confetti lol

[dearsnow]

WAKING UP TO FANTASY (4)

you wake up unexpectedly in bradley’s bed and take a day to avoid real life and relax before the storm starts once again. (bradley “rooster” bradshaw x fem!reader, part of the series “out of touch”, some angst, some fluff, mostly comfort)

OUT OF TOUCH: It’s been twenty years since you last saw Bradley Bradshaw, and, suddenly, you realize he’s finally grown up.

word count: 2,283

a/n - i honestly love this chapter because it’s exactly how i handle my problems 😭 overthinking and distraction in a cycle until you physically can’t anymore. the next one will be so fluffy though y’all, i promise.

When you wake up, hungover to the point where the light coming through the window to your right burns your eyes, you bury your face in your pillow. Wait, the window in your room is to the left of you. And this pillow smells different, like a woodsy laundry detergent. And the blanket that‘s draped over the top of you is a different weight.

Where the fuck are you?

You sit up as quickly as your headache will allow before the memories come flooding back. Explicit photos on a phone screen. A bar. A warm hand, a cold hand, Derick walking away. Bradley carrying you. Being put in this bed, with the lights off, and his hands brushing the hair away from your face. You’re in Bradley Bradshaw’s house, and you just broke up with your boyfriend.

There’s heavy light cascading over your sullen face, so much so that it must be well into the day. You pick up your phone and realize that it’s been put on silent, something you don’t remember doing. When you scroll up, though, you have seven missed calls and over a dozen texts.

They’re all from Derick, of course. The voicemails and texts range from begging you to come back to cursing you out, proclamations of love to admissions of hate. With a bit of hesitation, you delete the voicemails and text one last thing; “I hope you’ve taken your stuff, because I’m changing the locks as soon as I get home.” Then, with a trembling finger, you block his number. You wish you could pretend that never happened and run back into his awaiting arms like a fool in love, but the fact of the matter is, you can never go back. You can never ignore his infidelity, and you couldn’t stop him from doing what he did. It just hurts.

Bradley takes that opportunity to open the door, seemingly having heard you scrambling around in bed. “Hey. How are you?”

You clear your throat, straightening your posture and attempting to make yourself even the slightest bit presentable. “Good. Fine. As fine as I can be.” His eyes soften, and you can tell he doesn’t believe that you’re even a step up from horrible. You surely look it, but you hope he can just ignore that and let you go home with whatever dignity you have left.

“I made some breakfast if you’re ‘fine’ enough to eat. Then, y’know, we can talk.” He says, nodding to something that’s just slightly out of view to you. “C’mon, sleeping beauty.”

You stand with a soft groan. You’re still in your clothes from yesterday, your hair is messed beyond hell, and your entire body is sore. You feel like you just came from another dimension.

Looking around, Bradley’s house is nice. It’s neat. That’s pretty much all you can say, because it practically looks like it hasn’t been lived in. There’s a picture frame of his mom and a man you assume to be his father on the dresser and a sad little plant in the corner, but other than that, it’s undecorated. As you walk out, the rest of the house looks almost the same.

You turn the corner to the kitchen, breathing deeply. Pancakes, bacon, eggs, sweet maple syrup. It smells like heaven. “I got you a hangover cure too,” he says, gesturing to the heaping plate he set out for you and a smoothie that’s a suspicious shade of green.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to poison me.” You huff, taking a whiff of the smoothie. You get hints of so many things that you can’t even determine what the individual notes are. “Thank you, though.”

Bradley pulls out your chair for you, his fingers lingering on the seat until you’re settled in. “You’re welcome. Drink the poison, princess. It’s good for you.”

He stays until you’ve eaten (and drunk) your fill, seemingly having eaten earlier in the day. It’s about 10:38 AM, so you had slept for a good nine or ten hours. The conversation is light, teasing, and utterly ignoring everything that happened the night before. He listens as your scratchy voice explains what you did after he left, and your time in college, and starting your own business. You find out about his antics at the academy and a small part of the mission that ended with him permanently stationed in San Diego. He really had achieved his dreams after all, and you can’t say you’re mad about it.

All you ever wanted was for everyone to be happy, you think. Everyone good. Everyone except for Derick. Your mind drifts back to the words fired from your mouths, creasing your eyebrows and tugging your face down into a frown. Bradley pauses his story, taking in your expression. “You good?”

You nod, not trusting your voice or the lump in your throat.

He stands from his seat. “We should go out. Fresh air is good for you.” His words fall skeptically into your ears as you make fork waves in a puddle of syrup.

“I think I probably need to head home and see if Derick actually moved out.” You murmur. You don’t want to go home; you want to go anywhere but home, but it’s your day off at the cafe, and you can’t avoid it forever.

You wish you could just live in this dream for the rest of your life. Waking up to breakfast, a nice guy who puts chocolate chip smiles on your plate, and a large space that you can make your own. Life, however, rarely ever works out that well. And life always moves on without you if you dwell on what should be.

“Give it some time, hot shot. Spend the day out and we can tackle everything else later.” He smiles, voice cheery. He grabs a pair of aviator sunglasses off his counter and slips them on top of his head, then picks up your plate and balances it on top of his in the sink.

We. Did he mean to say ‘we’? Or, like it or not, is he going to be a full part of this? You would hate to drag him in more than he’s already been drug, but having someone on your side is so nice. It’s exactly what you need right now. In any case, you’re stuck with him for the day (and hopefully longer).

You’re shaken out of your thoughts by his next words. “I have some shirts in my dresser if you want to partially change. They might be a bit big, but they’ll do for now.”

“Thank you, Bradley. You have no idea how much this all means to me.” Your voice falters, quiet and gentle. He has singlehandedly turned your awful situation into something that may be salvaged.

Bradley just smiles crookedly. “No problem. Now chop chop, we have an ice cream shop on the pier to get to.”

You’re clad in a simple white tee. The shoulders hang further down your arms than they should, but the thing is luckily not something Bradley could fit in currently. He just doesn’t get rid of clothes, apparently. His closet is laden with Hawaiian shirts, each more gaudy than the next, leaving you wondering if he’s 35 or 55. In any case, you’re sitting on the edge of the pier, a melting ice cream cone in your hands. You do your best to keep it from dripping onto your hands as the man next to you is biting his cold treat like his teeth can’t hurt.

The ocean laps at your feet, cool and calm. There are a few clouds in the sky, their fluffy shadows blocking just enough sun to regulate the midday temperature. It’s pretty much perfect. You shift your eyes to Bradley, who has finished his cone by now. There’s a single bead of ice cream on his mustache, and you lean back on your arms to avoid wiping it off with the pad of your thumb. He clears his throat. “Nice day, huh?”

“Yeah. It’s a really nice day.” You take a lick of your ice cream, almost sighing at the flavor. Bradley stares out into the ocean, a slight frown pinching his features.

You’re about to finally reach the cone of your dessert when he speaks. “I’m really sorry.”

You pause. “It wasn’t your fault. Derick’s a jerk.”

“No, not about that. Well, yeah that sucked, but I’m sorry that I was such a dick in high school. I wasn’t ready for someone as good as you. It was insecurity or something even stupider, and it hurt you when you were already vulnerable. You deserved better.” He’s still looking out into the shimmering sea, like he can’t bear to meet your eyes. You bite into your cone and chew slowly, the crunchy waffle suddenly seeming very thick in your mouth.

It’s silent for a brief moment, the soft waves filling the background.

“It’s okay.” You say. “High school sucked for a lot of reasons, and I’m sure it wasn’t great for you either— it rarely is. You’ve changed a lot since then, and being completely honest, I like who you are now.” You turn to him with a small smile. “I mean, you bought me ice cream, so how bad can you really be?”

His laughter sends you into a fit of giggles, so hardy that you can’t help but feel the joy bubbling up from the depths of your gut. “If you think like that, you’ll be trusting every guy in Southern California.”

“I’ll only trust the guys who wear loud Hawaiian shirts and put baseball cards in their bikes to make them louder,” Comes your snarky reply. Bradley gasps like you’ve dug up a traumatic memory.

“I was fifteen! If I wanted a loud bike now, I’d buy a goddamn motorcycle.”

You take one more bite of your cone, almost reaching the bottom. “I know you fly heavy machinery for a living, but I’m not sure I’d trust you with a motorcycle.” He’s got a sparkle in his eye, likely coming from the sun just overhead, but it warms your heart just the same. You could drown in this fantasy.

“And I’m not sure if I’d trust you making the muffins for your cafe. I seem to remember that the one time I watched you bake, you almost burned your house down,” He jokingly scoffs. You roll your eyes, briefly making contact with the blue water. It’s beautiful out here, almost as beautiful as the man sitting next to you, but not nearly as beautiful as the feeling of utter belonging that courses through your veins. This is, again, the nicest you’ve felt in a while; despite everything, the happiness persists.

You put the last piece of your ice cream cone in your mouth and quirk your eyebrows up at him. “Well, it’s not like the pastries bake themselves. I have zero employees, so those croissants your friends have been scarfing down came from these here hands.” You spread your fingers and wiggle them slightly, listening to his laugh. When you put them down again, they’re just slightly closer to him.

“You can’t seriously be running that place by yourself now.” He snorts. “That’s gotta be eight jobs in one.”

You let out a little breathy sigh. Everything always comes back to this, to him. You don’t want to ruin the mood, but from a few unassuming words, it’s already been ruined. “I used to have Derick to help me out, but now that’s not an option. I’ve got a guy and a girl starting the day after tomorrow, though, so hopefully it’s not a problem soon.”

Bradley shifts, setting his hands down so they brush yours gently. You feel a little zap at the connection. “Don’t worry about that, your majesty. It’ll work out.” There’s a look to him that you can’t entirely figure out. You choose to ignore it for now, instead focusing on his increasingly odder nicknames for you.

“Your majesty?” You ask. His expression pulls into an instant grin.

“You’re royalty, honey. Independent, beautiful, too good for the world. Own it.”

You roll your eyes for real this time, shaking your head. “Only if I get to call you the court jester, Brad. You’re very entertaining when you want to be.”

“Anything for you, princess.”

You talk a bit after that, but everything tapers off into a kind of peaceful silence. You’ve never really had a peaceful silence before; not with Derick, not with anybody. It felt nice, like you weren’t trying to impress anyone. Before long, the waves were just a bit too high to sit at the pier, and you were forced to sit in Bradley’s bronco.

You fiddle with the car keys in your pocket, looking down at your lap. “I really do need to get back to my place and figure out the entire rest of my life.” You whisper. Bradley turns his keys in the ignition.

“If that’s what you want. I’ll get you back to your car, but baby steps from there, alright? You don’t have to do everything all at once.”

“I don’t think I’ll have the energy to do it all at once,” You admit. “Thanks, though. I’ve said it a million times already, but I doubt it’ll ever be enough.”

As he puts his car into drive, Bradley’s eyes flicker to you through the rear view mirror. “I’m just doing my job as your friend.”

He peels off of the curb he was parked next to, and you can’t help but think that there’s more to his tone than he’s letting on.

PREVIOUS || NEXT

Taglist: @m1dnightsnackz @itsarabellebabes @shanimallina87 @sadgirlgiselle @callsignstingray @djs8891 @hopip99

[justanothersanjilover]

One Piece Modern Gym Au Wip (Part 15)

A quick clean-up of the burned food later, they sat in front of a fast mixed-together meal from the remains of Sanji’s fridge and the parts he could still use from the meal he had planned. They sat at the table near the window, and Zoro smiled at his plate. The food was amazing! If he hadn't seen the burned rest and how quickly Sanji had come up with something from the - actually sparsely - food he had left, he’d said this had taken hours, if not days, to prepare.

“Why are you smiling like an idiot?” Sanji wanted to know while looking at his plate.

“Because this is fucking delicious, and I haven’t had a meal that good for a very long time,” Zoro explained, shoving another fork full of food into his mouth.

“It would have been better if I wouldn't have let the food burn…”

Zoro’s grin widened, and he reached out to ruffle Sanji’s hair. His eyes snapped up as he felt the touch of Zoro’s hand. After their forced talk a few weeks ago, touching each other became natural for them - at least on Zoro’s part. Yes, before, there were times they would shove each other or lightly hit each other, bump shoulders, and such - in a rival-friendship kind of way. But now? Zoro would always touch Sanji somewhere when they sat together - and if it was just his fingers tapping lightly against his bare arm when they talked at the Gym. And Sanji wouldn't comment on it. It seemed to calm Zoro from whatever was stuck in his mind. Sanji wasn't much of a tactile person. He ruffled Zoro’s hair now and then - to annoy him - but that was that.

“Soooo…” Zoro stretched the o for a moment. “About your green eye? I’m curious! It looks so…beautiful!”

There it was again. Beautiful…Sanji’s heart fluttered and hurt at the same time. Was he ready to talk about this?

“Soooo…” he mocked the way Zoro had said the word. “You were addicted? To what?”

Zoro made a dumbfound expression; then he laughed quietly.

“Should have known you’d change the subject very subtle.”

“I’m a natural.”

“Sure you are!”

He scratched his head and lowered his eye.

„I haven‘t talked about this in a long time,“ Zoro mumbled.

„You don’t have to…“

„No, it‘s fine. It‘s just…it‘s dumb, that‘s all.“ He smiled a little forced and put the fork down. „I was an alcohol addict a few years back and…“

„And you just drank beer! Why? You should have said no when I offered! I have other stuff to drink with no alcohol!“ Sanji stared at him wide eyed as Zoro laughed and shook his head.

„I‘ve got it under control, Curls“ he explained and grinned when he saw Sanji‘s ‘that‘s what they all say‘ - expression. „Really. One beer is not going to throw me back into addiction. It‘s fine every now and then. I know when to stop. I practiced self-control a lot and I won't let this get to my head ever again - it…I was miserable. Besides…”

Zoro stopped and rubbed the back of his neck, as if he were considering whether he should continue or not. For a moment Sanji thought he wouldn't say more, but then Zoro sighed.

“I almost couldn't get my top surgery because of it...I already had ruined my chance of a bottom surgery. So I was more than willing to end my addiction and never fall back to it.”

“Why would that get in the way of you getting surgery?”

Sanji was actually confused by that. He heard of cases where top surgery was risky or denied because the person used a wrong binder or binding method or used it too much, besides the many, very transphobic reasons and laws a person had to go through to actually get the gender-confirming surgeries - but because of alcohol?

“I wasn’t exactly suited for making major decisions at that time. Yes, I had a psychiatrist and I was on my way to getting better but the doc said there was no chance - at that time - for me to get the surgery done with the way I lived.”

“And now?”

Zoro pursed his lips while thinking and Sanji couldn't look away. Ah fuck, he was down bad for that man and Zoro didn't even know.

“I don't know…I think I learned to live with it. I mean it has his pros and cons to have a vagina as a transman,” he grinned but then realized what he had said.

His eye snapped up at Sanji to intake the damage he’d probably caused. Disgust? Rejection? Lack of understanding? But all he saw was a small trickle of blood flowing from Sanji’s nose.

“You…you okay?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Um…because… you have a nosebleed.”

“What?!” Sanji brushed his fingers over his philtrum - they really came back bloody. “Sorry! I…”

He jumped from his chair and walked over to grab a tissue and press it to his nose.

“Does this happen often to you?”

“Not usually…not with a guy,” he muttered the last part to himself, hoping Zoro hadn't heard it. “It should be over in a moment.”

“Alright.”

Smirking Zoro started to eat again. That was interesting. One more thing he could put to the list of Sanji’s little quirks.

Prev/next

First part

[mommyownsmee]

hii, do you have any tips for aftercare on dom/mes? like dealing with dom drops etc. i want to take care of them too but i'm not really sure how.

(i love how you explain bdsm, it's so clear and you really care for the community 🥹)

Thank you so much for your message, it‘s incredibly nice of you to think of your Dom/me this way and wanting to practice aftercare for them too.

[I‘ll be calling the/my Submissive S/O in this text because of personal reasons. I‘m writing in a perspective that shows me in a D/S dynamic! I won‘t openly confess to any relationship status here on Tumblr for my own and any other persons personal safety.]

At first I need to explain everything about Dom/me/ Top Drop and what‘s it caused by - so everyone of you understands why a Dom/me needs aftercare too.

If some of you aren‘t interested in this please scroll to the bottom, as that’s where I give examples for aftercare on Dom/mes.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Of course every Dominant experiences Dom/me/ Top Drop differently and this is just an example for one kind of Dom/me/ Top Drop and one specific kind of trigger. Every Dom/me experiences their Dom/me/ Top Drop differently and for every single one there are different triggers.

Here is how a Dom/me/ Top Drop feels for me:

I get it only shortly after a scene and only if I had an orgasm [where I got touched/penetrated/etc. In fact the orgasm itself is my trigger and that‘s why I often prefer just not to come, which is totally fine for me. It‘s enough for me just to see my S/O in pleasure. It gives me everything I need as a Domme and there is nothing that I miss. I can come from my mind only/ no physical interaction on me or others and this kind of orgasm doesn‘t trigger my Domme/Top Drop at all]:

The scene is over. I’m looking at my S/O, or listening to her breathe on the phone. We’re just there together and everything seems fine. Then, in just an instance, I get this insane amount of longing. I start feeling extremely guilty, especially if my S/O has any marks or bruises or just because of the fact that I just lost control for a second while I had an orgasm. I know it sounds like I‘m a control freak, but in fact it‘s only because I‘m autistic and I like routine. Having an orgasm which got triggered by physical interaction on me is extremely exhausting for my mind and it often happens that I just pass out after them for a minute because those orgasms are extremely intense for me and my body - and this is what really scares me.

So within a few seconds I‘m mentally going through „I need to be held close“ - „Why did I hurt the person I love more than anything else?“ - „Am I enough?“ - „What did just happen? I can‘t remember the last few minutes [only after my orgasm]“ - „Is she okay? I need to check up on her asap“ - „Am I still a good Domme?“ - „My S/O deserves better“ and finally it just ends with „I miss her so much it physically hurts“ and „I just wish she was here/ could come up to me and hold me close and tell me that I‘m enough and everything is fine and we are still we and nothing has changed and that you still love me as much as I love you“.

For me a Dom/me/ Top Drop feels like a gush of depression right in my face. I‘m starting to cry, shake and curl myself up. It‘s awful. I’m starting to rethink my role or effectiveness as her Domme. I maybe notice that I've overthought something during our time together. And above all, I just miss her. Since my S/O and me don‘t live close to each other it‘s hard for me to compensate all of those feelings mostly alone. It‘s a lot better the times she‘s here, but my Dom/me/ Top Drop still happens. I'm aware that it's the amazing chemicals that my body produced while having her with me slowly start to dissipate after our scene and it‘s hard for me to overcome this.

I think the hardest is to filter away the guilt and shame of what we like to do in a scene, and the guilt of what I might have done to my S/O during it. Self acceptance and allowing that to take time is the key. Communication, no matter the distance, is absolutely essential. The biggest thing is to stay honest with myself and my S/O about it. Check-ins are necessary for our dynamic.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

In my opinion Dom/me/ Top Drop and Sub Drop are fundamentally different. A Sub Drop is tied to an actual chemical change in the body, endorphins, dopamine, levels changing over the course of moments. I feel like a Dom/me/ Top drop is more mental. The body produces adrenaline and other drugs during a session, and when we are coming down from them, it is like falling into a deep hole sometimes. We feel a remorse, regret, a disappointment for something not going as planned. I think a Dom/me/ Top Drop is similar to fucking up something important at work or in our personal life. When we put our heart and focus into something that we think is important and it doesn't go well we feel responsible and the pain that comes with failure. As Dom/me we are very vulnerable in these moments, and often have problems showing this. Where a Sub might need chocolate and snuggles, a Dom/me needs reassurance and physical touch from their Sub and told that they're human, that mistakes will happen and we learn from them and improve.

In my opinion Top Drops are happening the same way as Sub Drops and aftercare is a must. It's so important for the relationship, or growth can't happen if these things don't work. A Dom/me might need as much reassurance/ love after a scene as a Submissive does - so please always talk about these things before the D/S dynamic starts.

Just don't be too hard on yourself no matter if you’re the Submissive or the Dominant and keep learning.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

[for both Dom/me and Submissive]

Affirmations of affection

Reassurance

Talk and communication about the scene in detail (emotions, what to change, what was good, what was bad)

Cuddling

Touches and closeness in silence

Slowly 'come back' to the present

Helping each other clean up

Sharing a shower/ bath after

Watching movies

Jokes and being silly together

Food, fluids

[anantaru]

i just want alhaitham to call me a good girl when i cum ☹️☹️☹️ he made my praising kink act up fr

cw. praise kink, a little rough, sprinkle of size kink, usage of 'good girl' and 'pretty girl', fem! reader, + this turned a little different than the thirst but i just rolled with it >:

your heart was soaring with a thrilling sense of excitement, the desire to impend boundless pleasure on alhaitham's body was excessive.

no amount of preparation could make it any easier for you, no sort of foreplay would turn you even more wet and open, it would still hurt within the first couple of his restless pumps.

"too— too much." you hiccup, your little cunt filthily squelching when his tip kissed your insides over and over again, a peal of sweet cries and calls emphasizing your point of overstimulation, the strong, heavy taste of his cock further bordering into you.

"see." he notices when you seem to adjust around his girth, "good girl." his hand cups your face, "and you get even better." alhaitham squished your thighs down on you to the point where your legs were leaning above his shoulders.

your alhaitham was akin to candy, like sweet molasses, so patient with you, that form of burning hunger for him just never seems to evaporate, no matter how little interaction or time was spent, you'll always find yourself back at his place, bare with your body spread out against the mattress.

"alhai— alhaitham!" you could never possibly explain what you were feeling while being full to the brim, stuffed with his thick girth roughening your spongy insides, the small fuzziness in your belly stitching together your upcoming orgasm.

"that‘s it." he makes you hear it, "my pretty girl." those words, they held the strength of a great thunderstorm and you felt like you might explode from the enormous delight and bliss evaporating in your body.

you covertly smile back at that and he leans forward, now, you were faced with the difficulty to keep his erected member in, struggling with another shy squeal at the new position turning your core tighter— it came too strong and your body reacted, your eyes bristling with warm tears.

just how it always happened to alhaitham, he missed the soft touch of your lips whenever they weren‘t on top of his, a deluge of emotions— like a gentle rain, washing over your skin when he kissed your lips in tandem with a now lower play on your pussy— taking your attention off the springing pain on your entrance.

he was still unmistakably quick and compared to earlier, he began to reach deeper— but also more passionate as you hiccuped after each rut, every push forward of his stiff cock pushing into your prickling flesh.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[skipper1331]

Secret (blurb/headcannons) // Alexia Putellas

a/n: based off this request :)

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

-

getting permission

"I was thinking" you started, turning the volume of the tv down, "Frido and Ingrid- they‘re my best friends-" you didn‘t know how to approach the situation, being back together with Alexia was heaven on earth but parts of you felt like you had betrayed your friends by not telling them about everything that‘s happened.

And they literally knew everything about you, so it was weird to let them in the dark about such a massive part of your life.

"Tell them, it‘s okay" she smiled, already knowing what you were trying to say as she leaned forward to press a gentle kiss on your forehead, "do you want to invite them for dinner? I‘ll cook something and then go to mama"

"You‘re just fine with it?" you asked, lifting a brow.

"Sí. You should have done that way earlier" she whispered, "while I respect it so much that you didn‘t, you had every right to. I won‘t stop you. Whatever you want, I’ll support you" your heart melted at her words, "forever"

Alexia wasn‘t the same anymore - she wasn‘t the girl who was afraid to show her love. She was the woman who showed every form of affection and love - not caring about teammates teasing, media comments or haters.

She loved you, that was all that mattered.

"Are you sure sure?" you asked again.

"Sí" her expression was firm, letting you know that she was indeed more than sure before a gentle smile took over, dreamy eyes looking at you with so much love.

"I love you"

"I love you too"

-

telling Ingrid and Fridolina

The three of you sitting in your local café

Build up conversation

"How are things with Alexia?"

long story time

Ingrid and Frido more than shocked

Asking many questions

Offering money??!!?!?

513 flowers? How much did they cost?

gasps

"The audacity"

coffee and biscuits turning into drinks and dinner

Analyzing everything

rage in their voices

anger, irritation, confusion in their expressions

disappointment in their eyes

commenting on situations and actions

They expected more from someone like Alexia

Both of them very disappointed in Alexia yet partly understanding her reasons.

Ingrid about to have a very long conversation with her girlfriend at home

Apologizing multiple times for not telling them earlier

Your friends understanding in every possible way

The two of them forever having your back and defending you

proud of you for not giving in and forgiving her straight away.

happy for you that everything has changed for the better

Appreciating how Alexia treats you and shows you off now

Ingrid and Frido having a shovel talk with Alexia the day after

Alexia not dreaming of hurting you - now even more.

Intimidated by the Scandies

Alexia starting to copy romantic gestures from the countless of books you‘ve read

Alexia continuing her 'diary', also known as the 'why I love you'-book which she gifts you at each anniversary

Your friends teasing you when they see the books in one of the shelves of your shared home

Ingrid and Frido becoming bridemaids at your wedding one day

happy end - an end you always wished for

till death do you apart

[angelicjungwon]

heeseung - enemies to lovers kinda thing

plot: you and heeseung are at the same uni, sharing the same classes and exchanging glances every chance you get.

you hated him, he hated you. it was a mutual feeling, at least that‘s what you thought.

but one party and a few drinks changed it all.

word count: 1089

tw: heeseung being mean, suggestive talk (tiniest bit), university & classes lmao, alcohol, idk if i forgot something

—

There he was again, sitting right where you were able to see him. He wasn’t listenting to the lecture, all he was doing was staring at you and pretending to take notes.

You knew he never studied or took notes, this man was not only gifted with his looks but also with a great memory. He didn‘t need notes or books, all he had to do was listening to watch the professor said once and it was embedded in his brain.

He was your ideal type to be exact. He was smart, handsome, tall, had a great fashion sense and he loved tea, coffee and books as much as you did.

You have met him way too many times at your favourite café but you avoided him.

You two rarely exchanged words, only if needed to.

The reason you disliked each other was easy - you two liked each other but your pride was too high to accept it.

He was known to be a player, at least rumors made him to be and you hated player with a passion but that was not the only reason.

He once made a remark to his friend group, stating that he‘d never in a million years go out with someone like you.

Usually it wouldn’t hurt you hear a man say that, of course it‘s a little off putting but you knew well enough that it usually comes from men who are insecure, however him saying that kinda hurt, considering that he never really talked to you before.

He was making you lose your mind and focus, every class you attended your focus was on him and him only.

"You‘re staring at Heeseung again." Your friend Jungwon said, shaking your shoulder a little. "But this time in disgust, stop it, it looks weird." He added, making you chuckle. "Why does he keep looking at me if he thinks I‘m so ugly."

You muttered under your breath, your eyes not leaving Heeseung.

"I don‘t know, go ask him yourself." Jungwon chuckled and pushed your head to face the tutor. "You look desperate…"

And with that, you only side eyed him for the rest of the lesson before heading out once it was over, deciding to get coffee at your favourite local café while reading over the notes you made during class.

"Stalking me, hm?" A familiar voice asked, you looked up and rolled your eyes. "You wish." You mumbled, facing your notes again. The person you least wanted to see right now, Heeseung himself.

"Jake is having a party at his parents place, they‘re out of town. You should come." He said, handing you a piece of paper with the address. "Why would I?" You asked, making him laugh. "Jungwon said he won’t come if we don‘t invite you. Be a good friend and just stay for at least an hour. I haven’t talked to him in ages, I wanna catch up a little." He said, causing you to roll your eyes at him.

"I‘ll think about it."

And with that you sat in your dorm room, staring at the blank wall of your non-existent roommate. You enjoyed that you were alone, you‘d dislike it more if you had someone in your room every single day and lets not forget, that if you ever felt lonely, Jungwon would spend the night over, telling you all about his dance practices.

You took out your phone to text him, letting him know you‘ll join him on his way to the party, making sure to mention that it was only for an hour and that you two will leave as fast as possible.

Well, let‘s say, the plan did not work out, as two hours later, you were on Jake‘s couch, a little too tipsy, talking to Sunghoon, a friend of Jake, about the most weirdest things possible. It began with eating habits and now turned into 'imagine you could drink soup with your butthole' kinda conversations.

"Are you and Jungwon a couple?" Heeseung said as he took a seat next to you, handing you a cup of whatever alcoholic drink it was.

"Nope, we‘re just friends, no worries, you have Jungwon all to yourself." You replied sarcastically, taking a sip from the cup in your hand as you turned your attention back to Sunghoon.

His eyes never left you, however whenever he did turn away, your eyes didn‘t leave him. Every once in a while you two caught each other staring, however once you two had enough alcohol in your blood, it almost turned into a staring contest. You were in one corner for the room, he was in another, eyes never leaving each other.

You both clearly had the same thought process in that moment, the tension was so intense, everyone else was able to feel it as well.

It wasn’t a surprise to anyone, his closest friends new he wanted you the day he met you. He couldn’t stop talking about you and once they asked why he didn’t just ask you out, he‘d find excuse like 'not my type' or 'not interested' but everyone knew that he was just too butthurt about the fact that you didn‘t swarm over him like everyone else did.

That was his way of coping, they supposed.

"Heeseung stop staring at (y/n), just go ask-" before Jake could finish his sentence, Heeseung was already on his way over to you.

"I know you want me." He said, leaning over to you, causing you to laugh. "More like, you want me. I see you eyeing me down from back there." He smirked at your response, he did want you.

"Fuck you‘re right." He mumbled, staring at your lips before licking his own. "You have no idea how much I want you, love." He added, eyes back on yours.

"But as much as I do, I would prefer to have this conversation again once we‘re both sober. As the gentleman I am, I‘d like my partners to not be intoxicated before I make any moves. Gotta make sure everything is consensual." He exhaled, unlocking his phone before handing it to you.

"How about you and I get coffee after class on Monday?" He suggested, making you smile.

"Mhm, sounds good to me." You replied, typing your number in his phone before handing it back.

"And bring a list of your favourite books and songs at the moment, I‘d love to get to know you." He winked before leaning back on the couch, getting involved in everyone‘s normal conversations again.

[elektrischemaidchen]

Lisztober #31: The End of All Things

Chi po dir, com egli arde, è’n picciol foco.

The end is here. One last song. Does anyone actually have any idea how we ended up here, from ‘Zeitmaschine‘ on? No? Neither do we. But it was incredible fun. We laughed, we cried (I cried… a lot), we were sometimes without a plan and then again not...and now we're here, after 31 days… and it hurts to say goodbye, my darlings. It really does. Lisztober was pretty life-defining for 4 weeks. Energy-sapping. Motivating. And extremely beautiful.

55 pages of handwritten pages in my notebook (I always write everything by hand, it's a creative spleen, I'm superstitious), a total of 1:58 hours of music (Oh God!). And that's just the end product. You wouldn't believe how many night-overs we've spent...

And a broken box, a stinky studio (pizza boxes!), hoarseness (‘Sttttirrrb!’), 24 Liszt biographies, lots of coffee, lots of empty wine bottles and more cigarettes than I've ever smoked before (I promised Lacelove that I'd quit in November. Again.) For you, for Franz, for us. What a ride.

The bets are already on that I in particular will now fall into a deep hole of depression. To be honest: probably.

And I'll tell you when this moment will come: Tomorrow at the latest, when I have to stand in front of Franz Liszt's grave in Bayreuth and I'll almost certainly cry. Without a mask.  Franz and I, we have seen so much of each other this month,I won’t need any. And none of you want that on the video, believe me. If anyone is able see all the tension fall away from me, it's him. By the way, if you want me to bring him something from you, say something. I'd be happy to. He'll definitely get a candle and flowers.

What's left to say now? No more songs about Franz's terrible last days. About his funeral. About the Wagners. Just this: ‘Oh, lieb, so lang Du lieben kannst.’ Didn't you realise how tricky we handled the topic on Lisztober #6? That's why:

No Lisztober without Liebestraum No3. We're not peasants (after all). My shitty piano skills are hidden deep within this song. And I think you can even hear our relief and love here. We were exhausted. That‘s what Franz may have wanted too. To remember him as he was. With all his facets. Wild, beautiful, thoughtful, reverent and unique. Memento Mori.  And after 31 days with all the ups and downs, would I still make love to Franz Liszt as my first duty, if I had a time machine? More than ever, by God.

By the way, if anyone is interested in getting one or the other song (or all of them, you freaks! ;)), please write us a message and we'll send you a download link. (Funnily enough, ‘Ode an  den Moon’ is probably the most popular song so far, beyond tumblr...you guys have some weird kinks ;))

Finally, we would like to thank @franzliszt-official again for the great idea and the wonderful topics you brought to life with your post. (As already said, we are happy to show our appreciation! Say something! Or come and visit us! <3 You are now an honorary member of the Maidchen Squad!) This was your idea, your topics and you alone are to blame for the fact that we gladly escalated for you. Are you planning a whole Liszt-year in 2026? We‘ re in. Thank you also @chopinski-official for your kind words and that we were also allowed to give you some thirst as well ;)

Thanks to all the listeners who haven't switched off yet!

Thank you, Lacelove, who, despite her lack of understanding of my Liszt-Thirst, stoically went along with the biggest Maidchen project ever (!) without quitting. And she also finished the album in the meantime. You are the best! I love you!

But we would also like to thank our families, friends and fellow musicians who have stuck with us through all of this. It wasn't always easy for you. (And I vow to my boys that I will only be there for them at Bandcamp...even if I have to write a new press release in ‘Weimar style’ - that's what they call it now ;) - ) Some of our friends even thought Lisztomania was about listeria. Almost. ;)

And to finish off this already very long post:  The sole reason the Maidchen exist at all is to make like-minded people out there happy. To make them laugh. Or to hit the heart. We don't want to become famous or earn money with our music. Our real merit is that you are here with us.

And before I start weeping: Goodnight you princes (and Queens and non-binary Fairies) of Maine, you kings (and Queens and Non-binary Fairies) of New England. Thank you, tumblr! We are Elektrische Maidchen! Good night! (or good morning!) Time for Cognac.

See you tomorrow. In hell. Bayreuth.

Lyrics:

O lieb’, so lang du lieben kannst!/O love, as long as love you can,  O lieb’, so lang du lieben magst!/O love, as long as love you may,  Die Stunde kommt, die Stunde kommt,/The time will come, the time will come,  Wo du an Gräbern stehst und klagst!/When you will stand at the grave and mourn! Und sorge, daß dein Herze glüht/Be sure that your heart burns,  Und Liebe hegt und Liebe trägt,/And holds and keeps love Solang ihm noch ein ander Herz,/As long as another heart beats warmly In Liebe warm entgegenschlägt!/With its love for you Und wer dir seine Brust erschließt,/And if someone bears his soul to you O tu ihm, was du kannst, zulieb’!/Love him back as best you can  Und mach’ ihm jede Stunde froh,/Give his every hour joy,  Und mach ihm keine Stunde trüb!/Let him pass none in sorrow! Und hüte deine Zunge wohl,/And guard your words with care,  Bald ist ein böses Wort gesagt!/Lest harm flow from your lips! O Gott, es war nicht bös gemeint, -/Dear God, I meant no harm,  Der andre aber geht und klagt./But the loved one recoils and mourns.  O lieb’, solang du lieben kannst!/O love, love as long as you can! O lieb’, solang du lieben magst!/O love, love as long as you may! Die Stunde kommt, die Stunde kommt,/The time will come, the time will come, Wo du an Gräbern stehst und klagst!/When you will stand at the grave and mourn. Dann kniest du nieder an der Gruft/You will kneel alongside the grave Und birgst die Augen, trüb und naß,/And your eyes will be sorrowful and moist, – Sie sehn den andern nimmermehr -/– Never will you see the beloved again – Ins lange, feuchte Kirchhofsgras./Only the churchyard’s tall, wet grass. Und sprichst: O schau’ auf mich herab,/You will say: Look at me from below, Der hier an deinem Grabe weint!/I who mourn here alongside your grave! Vergib, daß ich gekränkt dich hab’/Forgive my slights! O Gott, es war nicht bös gemeint!/Dear God, I meant no harm! Er aber sieht und hört dich nicht,/Yet the beloved does not see or hear you, Kommt nicht, daß du ihn froh umfängst;/He lies beyond your comfort; Der Mund, der oft dich küßte, spricht/The lips you kissed so often speak Nie wieder: Ich vergab dir längst!/Not again: I forgave you long ago! Er tat’s, vergab dir lange schon,/Indeed, he did forgive you, Doch manche heiße Träne fiel/But tears he would freely shed, Um dich und um dein herbes Wort -/Over you and on your unthinking word – Doch still – er ruht, er ist am Ziel!/Quiet now! – he rests, he has passed. O lieb’, solang du lieben kannst!/O love, love as long as you can! O lieb’, solang du lieben magst!/O love, love as long as you may! Die Stunde kommt, die Stunde kommt,/The time will come, the time will come, Wo du an Gräbern stehst und klagst!/When you will stand at the grave and mourn. Danke, Franz, wo immer Du jetzt bist.  L’avantage des gens qui vous aiment, c’est qu’ils vous comprennent mieux que vous. Et s’ils ne vous comprennent pas vraiment, au moins ils vous aiment!!!!!!!!!

O lieb’, solang du lieben kannst!/O love, love as long as you can! O lieb’, solang du lieben magst!/O love, love as long as you may! Die Stunde kommt, die Stunde kommt,/The time will come, the time will come, Wo du an Gräbern stehst und klagst!/When you will stand at the grave...

[shisnhou]

astronomy

pairing: nanami kento x f! reader

genre: angst

wc: 1,5k

an: this is the first chapter of the story i will be releasing soon! tell me if you want more :)

marriage.

many people fantasize about being married.

to many, the idea of marriage is pure bliss. the thought of being together amidst the misunderstandings, pain, and marriage blues, the happiness, the shared home, the matching rings, the memories, creating a family, and the promises of forever regardless every arrow that shoots the heart of the relationship.

and as many wedding vows go, 'to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until parted by death. this is my solemn vow.' they entail one of many things, but mainly, to be together and cherish one another regardless of what happens.

but to some, that wasn't the case, and you wish you found out sooner, you wish you found out that you were part of the some, and not that many.

marriage is the biggest scam that you fell for in your whole life. the vows, the wedding, the rings, every single bit and piece of it is a horrid scam that you find yourself to be the victim of.

the marriage that lays upon your shoulders isn't bliss and happiness, it isn't nothing but a waste of money, yet a waste of life as well.

the marriage that many gush of, the marriage that you once gushed about, has failed you. you aspired to be one of those people who walked down the aisle whilst their partner was crying as they stood by the altar, watching the love of their life walking down the carpeted floor. you once imagined yourself as one of those people who would feel delighted once the ring engulfed your ring finger, you once wished of kissing the one person you love before the eyes of many who bear witness to your love story tying the knot.

but now, the marriage you gushed about is the same marriage you are itching to end.

it no longer makes you happy— being tied down to this 'sacred' bond. the wedding ring hugging your ring finger barely even glimmers, unlike the one that your husband has abandoned on his dresser. rather, it feels heavy.

you thought you'd be all smiles after marrying the love of your life, but you've been crying more than you have been laughing, the tears you spared and still are sparing are not of happiness, rather, of pain and agony. the kisses that you two share send you not butterflies in your stomach, instead pins and needles.

there‘s no love in your marriage, no love in this 'sacred' bond. it‘s all pain, sadness, and hurt. you feel mocked every time you see a happy couple holding hands in the street, much like the way the wedding ring that has been collecting dust since your husband has left it on his dresser; he‘s left it there since your wedding day.

and the mockery becomes even worse when you're around family. the family that were there to witness your 'loving marriage'. the same family you keep lying to about your marriage.

"i can‘t you believe it. god, no one thought you‘d be the first to marry amongst us!" kiki, older cousin screeches. she talks your ear off about your marriage and all that, and you wish you were able to slip away and lay in bed all day.

you hate gatherings like this with a burning passion. to you, it was all bullshit, because half of the time, they were just giving each other backhanded compliments, and now it's become your personal hell because all they do is ask you about your relationship.

"hm, surprise i guess." you mumble, taking a huge sip out of your wine, thinking of an excuse to get out of her as soon as possible.

"not to mention, to a rich and handsome man!" well, you assume that‘s one of the good things about your husband; that he was rich, tall, and handsome. "how‘d you do that?"

"it‘s a long story." you lie, rolling your eyes to cover the hard glare that‘s threatening to lay itself upon your cousin just so that she‘d shut her running mouth.

"well, you better hold him close. you‘ll never know what could be goin' on when you aren‘t home." you hate her, you truly do. it‘s unbelievable to you, how one could look so nice yet spout the worse kinds of things to someone who didn‘t even do anything.

"why would she need to hold him down when she's got him at the palm of her hand?" shima, another cousin of yours butts before kiki could say anything more.

"well, y'know how men are, ma.." kiki trails, causing you to role your eyes once again.

not that you care. you quit caring not so long ago. caring is a hard job, a job that was fruitless. so, you just quit. not that it matters to anyone anyway, not even to your husband.

it doesn‘t matter. you barely matter. all that matters it that you keep your husband's perfect image of husband above sea.

"believe me, i know everything that goes down." trying to hold up your facade, you smile, turning your head to the other side, hoping that they wouldn't notice that look on your face. the look that no one else sees. the look that you hide from the world, even from yourself. "everything is all and well."

lie after lie, excuse after excuse.

your mouth runs words. empty words that you wish the people will believe, praying that they don't see through the hollow letters, the broken vows inside the house of lies.

yet as you smile, hoping that they'd stop interrogating you, you come to the realization that there's only so much you can do when he doesn't even try to uphold your marriage's reputation.

"but where is he, though?" kiki's boyfriend— hirugami— asks, wide eyes staring at you. "you said he'd be here. i'd love to talk to him! ask more about the stock market n' all that,"

his words are genuine and you know that he means no harm, however the urge to slap your hand above his mouth is making you itch.

you made nanami promise to make an appearance, and he said he'd try his best to show some face. but hours have passed since the appointed time and all you can do is curse him in your head and wish that his expensive polished shoes hit a brick wall and break.

"busy." is your curt answer, running out of excuses to make. "being a business man really works you up, you know? having to stay in the office—"

before you finish your words, the devil himself appears by the door. your eyes go wide, and unbeknownst to you, a spark of hope glints in your eyes.

"kento," you whisper to yourself, rising quickly to make your way to him. but before you're able to, your aunt is rushing to greet him.

"kento! we're glad you're here." she smiles widely, wrapping her hand around his arm, leading him into the house.

his eyes meet yours. your heart skips a beat. despite convincing yourself that you and him no longer have any kind of ties, your heart never fails to recognize the man you fell in love with, the man who still holds your heart in his hands.

"(y/n)," your name falls from his lips, and without even realizing it, your feet walks to him, right where he is.

your aunt looks up at him, one brow raised at the sound of your name, as if you were a stranger and he just called your name out of no where.

"i need to go to my wife first. i need to greet her first." he says, retracting his arm and eyeing your aunt.

your aunt's eyes widen, sheepishly she smiles and lets go while nodding. you smile at her as nanami takes a step closer. for the second time, your eyes meet his. you swallow, looking deeply into his grey eyes and landing on your arms on his broad shoulders.

naturally, his hands move to your waist, causing a shiver to run up your spine.

"kento," you inhale his scent, recognizing the masculine scent of his perfume that you bought him last christmas. "hey."

"hello, wife." his words are sweet, but his face isn't. his lips remain thin and flat, even when his lips come closer, even when they press against yours.

"how was—"

"kento!" hirugami, screams his name walking up to him and slapping his hand on his back causing nanami to jolt and turn his head. hirugami is oblivious to the one sweet moment that he disrupted. but you can't blame him, not when he has not a single clue as to what happens behind closed doors.

"hirugami." nanami sends you one last look before he turns around to meet the man and greet him properly.

internally you sigh, already missing and yearing the feeling of his huge hands around your waist.

"you really have go him wrapped around your finger, huh?" shima teases. "i've never seen a man as tall as him calm down when he sees his wife."

you laugh softly at her words, wishing that what she said was true, despite knowing for a fact that it's the farthest thing from the truth. "well, it's a newly weds thing."

she hands you your glass of wine and you take it from her, but not without clinking it with hers first.

"you're right, you newly weds are truly sweeter than candy." obliviously, she agrees.

as her words leave her lips, you wish that she would never see through your lies. hoping that your lies manifest. that one day, your wishes and prayers will come true.

yes, this is very much inspired by conan gray's song astronomy.