#… it’s weird how more comfortable I am talking in tags (・⊥・) I

[neverendingford]

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[iniini]

I redrew a thing then drew a bit more only a little bit though

[waywardsalt]

thinking abt linebeck’s coat. something very alluring about it for some reason. so im just gonna ramble about it here instead of in the tags for once

you can probably start a fight between the people who think it’s a coat and people who think it’s a jacket but i think it’s a coat moving on

the character designs are interesting to look at due to the proportions and art style so it is hard to imagine how long his coat would be but i think it would go down to a bit above ankles because i think that’s good. it’s a bit more dramatic a bit more impressive(?) that way and would probably lead to problems tbh

based on some of the official art i imagine that the stripe at the bottom might’ve been a late addition since it’s missing in the bit of official art most used to represent linebeck. tbh linebeck is inconsistent in very tiny ways in the official art but that’s mostly if you’re gonna be nit-picky or bored enough to notice

his coat is so good it’s simple but very recognizable and stands out among the other character designs in ph and its just. yknow good character design

its also surprisingly good for headcanons and stuff and because i mostly take a lot of canon as suggestion i have a good handful of headcanons tagged specifically onto his coat (one of which is the length of it ig)

i like to imagine that he made it himself. i’ve seen stuff where people write linebeck as being able to fix link’s tunic when it gets torn and i feel like the logical extreme of that is that he made his own coat. i think that adds a layer of. importance to it? it’s unique it’s solely linebeck’s it’s tied to him because he made it with his own hands and maybe it can represent something about him that way?

i like to imagine that in addition to the normal pockets one the outside he’s got a whole lot of little pockets on the inside of the coat, like so many pockets that he hides little trinkets or tools or things he steals in either to keep or to take back to his ship for whatever reason. some of the pockets have little flaps of whatever they’re called that can be secured in place with a small button to keep stuff in

he’s got like pencils and a compass and little notes and tiny figurines and cool rocks and feathers and all kinds of little things he thought was worth keeping around and due to that his coat is uncomfortable sometimes but if he knows for certain he’s going to be busy doing stuff he’ll empty out all of the pockets and only leave the important stuff so that it’s lighter and less uncomfortable. link finds his coat lying around at some point and is caught so badly off-guard by how surprisingly heavy it is with all of the bullshit he keeps in all of his pockets

i also imagine he values it a lot, maybe to the point of being really possessive and protective of it, not letting link touch it and if it gets torn or stained he shuts down and has to fix it before he can move on to anything else, and if he can’t fix it at the time it leave him kind of overwhelmed or upset until he can fix it. he has a lot stocked-up materials specifically for his coat to avoid a situation where he has to go for while with his coat damaged

backing away from headcanon territory, his coat is just a cool bit of character design and has just been lodged in my mind for a while. its cool and never brought up within the game (obviously) and i guess a last little closing thought is that in the cutscene where oshus teleports link above linebeck it kinda looks like his coat moves when he tries to catch link and i think that’s cool

[arthur-r]

how to not be an ass to somebody who sort of freaked me out while also not acting like i actually want to be friends with him????

[sukifoof-art]

heres a silly little post pacifist au i've had for a Good While now which is why i tend to draw hyperdeath asriel and frisk being siblings a lot theres some Info under the cut if ur curious

OKAY SO BASICALLY i like to imagine that after leaving the underground flowey is able to come to terms with. Being Flowey and through therapy learns how to be more open and frisk and papyrus help him a lot through this. i think toriel already Knows hes flowey just cuz of the way he acts shes like "i dont know how. but that is my son boy." and one day he comes home from therapy and goes I Need To Tell You Something. I Am Asriel. and he braces for the way she reacted in the underground but this time around she just goes "im so glad you finally feel comfortable telling me" and they both cry it out

as flowey becomes more comfortable with being himself he starts to mess around with his face to prank frisk cuz he just NEEDS to be an annoying older brother and after he works out his various issues and can see himself more as he is an not there being a clear distinction between asriel and flowey in his brain (ive talked about this a lot i think he sees asriel as different from him cuz of trauma and therapy will help him kind of calm down and go "im still me im just different and older now and also traumatized but despite everything its still me") i think he would be able to make himself look like hyperdeath asriel as its what he feels most comfortable looking like

he still goes by flowey and he moves around like flowey but when hes just standing there he needs a cane both cuz i imagine it kinda hurts and he doesnt have good balance. i like to think that despite being a weird grumpy guy who sits at home all day cuz hes not ready to interact with lots of people yet hes actually a very good brother who cares a lot about frisk and the people around him <3 big brother flowey SO real btw ask to tag if needed

[angelltheninth]

BNHA Men when You Have A Near Death Experience During a Mission

Pairing: Izuku Midoriya, Bakugo Katsuki, Shoto Todoroki, Eijiro Kirishima x Reader

Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, nightmares, cuddles, sneaking around, literal sleeping together, life affirming kisses, crying

A/N: Time for some angst! Hope you're ready to get punched in the feels.

Izuku never wanted to see you like that, on the ground and bleeding, broken. You can feel his tears falling onto your face, you can hear his cries, telling you to hold on that you'll be okay, you'll get fixed up in no time just hold on. In the following days he can't let go of the sight, his mind won't let him forget seeing you like in that state. When you get out of the hospital you notice that he's more quiet then usual, still sticking close to you but unsure what to say to you. If he was stronger then maybe you he could have watched your back better. So... will you train with him? Like a date. It's odd to count that as a date but he was always a weird boyfriend, in an adorable way.

"It might be sudden, you just got out of the hospital but I really want to get stronger. I haven't been sleeping well since then, every time I close my eyes the nightmares come rushing in. I want to get stronger, be able to stand by your side. Then, do we have a date?"

Bakugo is the guy who will blame himself for you getting hurt but he will do it in the angriest way possible and actually make it seem like he's blaming everyone else. Needs to carry you to the hospital on his own, even if he himself is badly injured. If anyone so much as tries to touch you he will get aggressively protective, holding you closer to his chest in retaliation. The moment you open your eyes his mouth is on yours, his hands cupping your injured cheeks with the gentleness most doubt he could possess. He can't stay for long but for the time he can he doesn't want his hands to not be on you, he needs to know that you're okay.

"Fucking messed up back there. Don't give me that, you know I did! You could have died you idiot! Look... I'm not the best guy but you... you bring out a better side of me, I don't want to lose you. I can be sappy when I wanna. Keep your mouth shut about it or I'll shut it with mine."

Shoto never wants to know what it feels like to lose a person he loves. There have already been so many close calls in his life, and now it's happening again. You keep telling him you'll be fine but how can you say that when you're loosing so much blood. The hall outside of your room in the hospital is in a constant flux of too hot and too cold because his emotions are all over the damn place right now. Seeing you awake calmed him down a little but it's not until he feels your hand in his pulling him next to you and letting him listen to your heartbeat that he truly calms down. It's a little cramped in the hospital bed but if you don't mind it then he'll stay like this.

"How could it have been worse? You almost died there. I never want to think about a worst outcome. I want to stay by your side forever, I want to go to sleep and wake up while listening to your heartbeat just like I am now. In a bigger bed of course."

Eijiro had never been so angry in his life. At those who almost killed you yes but also at himself. He's your boyfriend, he should have payed more attention to what was going on around the two of you. Now you're bedridden in a hospital, unable to move without it causing pain. You'll heal but what happened will always haunt his mind. Because visiting hours have their limits he thinks it wouldn't be a problem to sneak in through the window, bring you flowers and snacks to make you feel better. You spend many hours talking, kissing, even long periods of silence. He eventually falls asleep in his chair and in the morning has to run right as he hears the door handle turn.

"Brought you flowers and your favorite snacks. I don't want you eating yucky hospital food. Are you doing better? Did you... see me when you... sorry, I don't like being that way, but when I saw you like that I lost it. I will smash through anything and anyone to keep you safe."

[hongjoongsart]

Reassuring Words and Mellow Touches | Choi San

💐 IMPORTANT: Re-upload from my deleted account (hongjoongspoetry).

💐 Summary: Being a mother wasn’t an item on your bucket list, never has and probably never will be. You were more than content with living a childless life and it wasn't an occurring issue before, until you brought your boyfriend on a trip to your parents’ where his love for kids unveiled right in your face. You were adamant on your choice, but scared what the future held for you and your boyfriend.

💐 Pairing(s): idol!San x f!reader

💐 Genres/Tropes: tooth rotting fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship, a lil suggestive

💐 Warnings/Tags: no use of (Y/N), mentions of pregnancies, arguments, explicit language, expectations that come with being a woman, reader doesn't want babies, pushy family, emotional invalidation, listed pregnancy side effects, san with kids

💐 Wordcount: 12.2K

💐 Author's note: Here's a lil treat inspired by my fear of pregnancies. I am not a mother and I'm not trying to offend anyone who is. I haven't experienced motherhood so I wouldn't understand the complicit feelings that come with it, this is more my observation of it I guess.

Edited 22 January, 2024!

AO3 Playlist Click on me!

This is all fiction and not meant to represent San in any way or form.

Babies weren’t foreign to you even at the age of five.

You knew what they were; you had been one, your parents and siblings too, heck every living thing had been a baby at one point in their life. From the carrots growing in your grandma’s garden to the old ducks swimming in the pond down the street. 

Babies were cute. A bit annoying, but nonetheless cute. Probably the reason why your parents decided to have so many children or was it the nostalgia of holding an infant when their kids grew up to be living ticking time bombs. 

It wasn’t anything weird or something you paid attention to. It was quite simple too; people had children because they fell in love or to keep the relationship floating.

Children were simple beings. What they hear they shall question. Seeing your teacher highly pregnant, rubbing her stomach and wearing a gleeful expression, talking about birth and pregnancies and everything else coming with that had you taking in the information like a sponge absorbing water. 

“Mom, did you give birth to me?” 

“Of course, honey, I am your mom aren’t I?” You remember her gently wiping your cheek, a warm smile adorning her face.

You hummed in agreement, throwing a cut piece of steak in your mouth somewhat satisfied with her answer. Your eyes filtered between Hana and Jun, watching them push at each other’s shoulders clearly bickering over something so pointless your dad couldn’t bother stopping them. Not that it was possible, they were brought into this world together and separating them would only bring more chaos.

“Did you give birth to Hana-unnie and Jun-oppa too?”

“Yah! What do you think, airhead?!” Jun snarkily replied and got a light whack of the head by your sister.

“Sweetie, don’t hit your brother.” 

Hana rolled her eyes. “Even if he deserves it?” 

“Even if he deserves it,” your father concluded and urged them to eat. 

Another piece of meat was flung in your mouth as you stared at the family portrait behind the twins, focusing on your other siblings who moved out a long time ago and already started their own families. Your mother saw the bemused tingle covering your features.

“Go on and eat your food.”

A small pout adorned your lips, “How do you give birth?”

Your parents were more than prepared for the wonders of your mind, any question fired at them had already been answered years ago with your older siblings. That’s what they thought at least and it explained why the dinner table went pin silent as the question was flung out in the open.

The seasons changed like your father changed channels. Spring fluttered into summer quicker than expected. Budded flowers opened, the various colored roses adorning your grandma’s fence beautifully. The breeze welcomed you with open arms, proudly announcing the start of summer break. The transition between summer and autumn was slow. The rich green leaves took their time changing shades – red, orange and eventually an ugly brown that reminded you of wet mornings and cold coffees – before the howling wind swirled them away, stripping the trees of its beauty. 

As the years passed your My Little Pony boots were replaced with wedge heels and your favorite color wasn’t pink, but black – even though Jun argued black wasn’t a color – and before you knew it Hana moved out with her boyfriend, now husband, of six years. A small but evident baby bump peeking behind her knitted sweater.

You were seventeen at that time, the twins twenty-two and your remaining siblings already thirty-something. 

Her baby girl wasn’t the first grandchild of your family tree and she certainly wasn’t going to be the last either, because four years later she welcomed another child into the world just a couple of months before your brother’s wife. That made a grand total of seven grandkids, three girls and four boys.

You were very grateful to your mom for giving birth to you last and grateful for the free birth control your siblings provided you with. Despite their children having moments of incarnating the devil, they weren’t the issue to your disdain of want for a baby. 

Some said it was the lack of a boyfriend and others pointed out you being too focused on your academic studies – that your decision to start university was too hasty – depriving you of your youth, as if a newborn wouldn’t.

You saw what motherhood did to your sisters and in-laws, and it wasn’t anything you’d like for yourself. Not even after meeting your boyfriend, who you were madly in love with and he was completely head over heels for you, did your perception change. 

Babies were cute to look at, but growing one inside of you? No thanks. 

You glanced at San through the bathroom mirror, white shaving cream around his face.

“Don’t you have filming with the Return of Superman today?” 

“Yep, have to make sure the beard doesn’t scratch the kids.”

You laughed again, “Beard? I haven’t seen you with a stub in how many months now, let alone a beard.”

Your eyes met in the reflection, one of his brows raised and lips puckered as if contemplating something. He then let go of the razor and gently took hold of your waist and neck, pressing his sticky cheek against yours. You yelled out and tried to push him away, but he barely moved.

“What did you say about my beard?”

“You have a beautiful beard! So pretty and well-kept!”

San smiled brightly, dimples popping and eyes creasing as he planted a wet kiss on your forehead. 

“Thank you baby!”

The white cream was washed off with extreme care, as he was afraid of wetting your clothes and hair. 

“There you go.” He threw on a gray hoodie, black hair slightly disheveled but nothing that couldn’t be fixed with you running your hand through it. 

“I’d say thanks, but you’re at fault.”

He rested his hands on your hips, thumbs sneaking underneath the white fabric of your blouse to caress the soft skin beneath. “You’re lucky I love you.” 

Your twentieth lap around the world was filled with many experiences and emotions. You finally moved out of the countryside to the big city and found an apartment in the middle of Seoul. As much as you loved the feeling of freedom and independence you also despised it. Not having anyone waiting on you by the door, no home cooked meals or clean clothes neatly made on your bed reminded you of what you left behind. 

Although it was hard to adapt at first you managed and with the help of a friend you quickly adjusted to the busy city life. As someone wise once said; after rain came sunshine, and your sunshine was San. The boy your friend introduced you to when you still had little to no knowledge of Korean pop groups besides the older generations and singing ring-ding-dong no repeat.

At the time he was just San, a funny and caring friend you could be yourself with, occasionally going out to secluded shops for coffee and pastries. You never questioned the scenery and request of privacy, always giving people the benefit of the doubt, until a girl stopped you on your way to a morning class with the demand you tell her who you were and what connection you had to her Sannie. 

With a trembling voice you answered her truthfully, debunking any conclusions she already made up in her mind.

You didn’t go to school that day or home for that matter either, scared to be followed and questioned again by a potential lover or side-piece so you did the next best thing; stopped by a 7-eleven and spent your morning there before taking the first train to your sister’s unannounced, spilling everything like an overflowing bucket.

As the mature woman she was, she spurred you on to ask San. Saying you deserved answers to your questions and to potentially clear up any misunderstandings – if there were any of that is. 

The moment you told him about the girl, he came forward with who he was, something he admitted he should’ve done immediately, but didn’t for two reasons: a) you allowed him to be himself with no walls and b) he was worried the truth would scare you away. Heck, you were already chased just by being near him and you didn’t even know anything. To your luck, the girl wasn’t his girlfriend or a crazy ex, but a fan and San was an idol.

A few weeks after his confession your friendship progressed and blossomed into a beautiful relationship. You could proudly call him yours in the privacy of your apartment and he could wrap his arm around you – face masks and caps on of course – scaring the prying eyes of other men. He filled your solitude with the comfort and love you missed so dearly.

“Honey, have you seen my gray hoodie? I can’t find it in your wardrobe.” San stood before your closet, torso exposed and an expensive towel you can’t remember the brand of wrapped around his hips.

You were in the kitchen brewing coffee for the both of you. A plain yet pretty dress stuck tightly to your form, “Mmm, I think it’s in the basket with all the other clean clothes.”

The taps of his bare feet filled your apartment accompanied by a gasp seconds later.

“Did you find it?”

Large arms slinked around your waist and pulled you into San’s chest, he nuzzled his nose against the bare spot on your neck before peppering it with tender pecks, “Thank you, honey.”

“Always, baby. Here’s your coffee.”

You gingerly handed him the cup, but San had other plans. Ever-so-gently he titled your head sideways as his lips met yours. It was soft and made your stomach swoop as if going down a steep roller coaster. 

San had that effect on you no matter what he did. 

“You have to…get dressed or…we’ll be late,” you said between kisses. 

His chest vibrated against your back as he hummed in delight, “This is worth getting in trouble for.”

“I’m sure it is, but I don’t think Wooyoung will appreciate that.”

“I don’t care.” 

A laugh bubbled out as you rewarded him with one last kiss to the cheek. Eventually you both parted ways. San went first, wearing an obligatory cap and mask while meeting up with his manager further down the street and you followed shortly after, taking the commute to your workplace. 

“So,” you started after placing the pot on the table between your plates, immediately filling San’s, “my parents invited us to theirs next week.”

He nodded, “I think I can make it, but I’ll have to double-check with the guys and managers.”

It was the first date night in weeks where both of you were free from work and had enough energy to meet up. You originally invited all the boys, but San was keen on keeping you to himself, claiming he wanted some alone time. If it were up to him he’d see you everyday even for just five minutes, arguing that the short time could give him the motivation to work harder. In return you reminded him the journey from his dorm to your place was a thirty minute long drive without traffic, the energy he’d get would evaporate in seconds.

“It’s okay if you can’t make it, Sannie. I know you guys have a lot to do, especially with the release of your new album.”

“Mmm, don’t worry about that. We’ll see first, but I’m telling you now. I want to go.” He reached for your hand across the small table and you returned the sentiment with a squeeze before beckoning him to eat.

You took notice of his upturned lips and crescent moon eyes. It wasn’t an unusual sight, San was always in a good mood and when he wasn’t he still mustered up a smile warm enough to brighten your day.

“What are you smiling about?” You teased, carrying a grin of your own.

“You should have seen the kids the other day, they were so cute.”

“Oh, it completely slipped my mind to ask. How was it?”

“It was fun and they were so, so cute. All of them really.”

“I can imagine, Sannie.”

“I don’t want to say too much, you still have to wait for the episode, but ohhh! I can’t stop smiling.”

You chuckled and enjoyed seeing your boyfriend suffer a hard case of baby fever. San loved kids, put that man near a kid and anyone in one mile radius would see it. That was how you found out. 

You were babysitting your niece one random Thursday night, your brother claiming ‘you owed him’ for something you did in your childhood days that was long forgotten. San asked if you were free that same night, but you sadly turned him down, briefly explaining the situation and voilá. The date was moved from a five star restaurant to your living room with blankets and ice cream and a toddler with bigger love for Bluey than her aunt.

San’s love for kids wasn’t something he expressed with you, but rather something you saw through gentle touches and light coos, a few stolen pecks here and there.

It wasn’t an issue to you. In all honesty, it was attractive because how many men did you know who actually showed interest in their children? How many dads knew their kids’ birth dates or their favorite ice cream flavor?

And yeah, you felt the same. Your nieces and nephews were cute, especially when they wore matching clothes for Chuseok and Christmas. Don’t even get you started on their birthday costumes.

But it wasn’t enough to make you want one. 

It wasn’t worth the nine month long journey of fatigue, mood swings, nausea, stretch marks and not to mention the painful process of giving birth and what came after; potentially loss of teeth, tearing the perineum, hair loss… the list is truly endless.

Not wanting kids wasn’t a problem until you stumbled into San who carried a love big enough for the whole population of South Korea. 

“I can’t wait till we have kids,” San admitted as you stuffed your mouth with a spoonful of rice.

The clock hanging above the kitchen entrance didn’t freeze but you sure did. The words would make anyone squeal and melt at once, however they washed over you like a big cold wave in the atlantic ocean and sent your food into the wrong pipe. San jumped up from his seat and patted your back while opening a can of coke with his other hand. 

“Drink this.” He pushed the beverage in your hands and waited to make sure you were alright. The coughing didn’t stop but at least you could breathe. “Better?”

You sent him a nod, not trusting your voice to keep its cool. San didn’t question the lack of response to his blunt statement nor why you nearly choked to death. The night ended with you two hastily filling the dish machine and cuddling together on the couch with you laying on top of him. A boring movie played on the big TV while you basked in each other’s embrace. 

Halfway through the movie you cleared your throat, not being able to shake the conversation from earlier, “You want kids?”

“Not right now, but someday,” San said, one hand under his head and the other rubbing your back. He then glanced down at you. “Don’t you?”

You turned so your chin rested on his chest, noses almost touching and his peppermint breath fanning your face.  The simple two letter word was stuck in your throat, and like the coward you were you swallowed them down with guilt. You shot him a quick smile and even manually crinkled your eyes to make it more believable.

Twenty minutes later and San was out like a light, the hectic schedules and plenty of sleepless nights getting to him in the end. Sleep didn’t come as easy to you. Mind too occupied with thinking, thinking and more thinking. Tears blurred your eyes and you didn't know if they were from the stuffy room or the guilt bubbling in your abdomen. 

The incident was pushed under the rug in your living room, neither bringing it up again nor the topic of a future family, mainly because you were both drowning in work and adult responsibilities. The days passed in a flash and when Friday came around San was parked outside the building early in the morning, welcoming you with a preheated seat and a cup of steaming hot coffee. 

“The twins and their kids are the only ones who could come. Mimi-unnie’s little ones caught the flu and Jin couldn’t get away from work.”

Coming from a rather small family and then moving in with seven men he considered brothers was quite the change for young San, so hearing that neither Mimi or Jin, and their respective families, could make it made him deflate.

“That’s unfortunate. We haven’t seen them in a long time.”

“Yeah, but at the same time I can already feel the headache coming from having seven kids running around all day.”

“That’s how Hongjoong must feel all the time.”

The image of seven twenty-something-year olds running around as toddlers and an exhausted Hongjoong not far behind them popped up in your head and brought out a laugh. Then last week’s phone call with your mother interrupted the vision and you got serious again. 

“Did you bring spare clothes? Mom said they were warning of a rainstorm.” 

“Yep. It’s in the trunk with your things.”

Your hands rested on your lap and San, feeling the need to touch you, gently intertwined your fingers with his and placed a kiss to the back of your hand. He occasionally withdrew when changing gears before resuming his hold. The ride was long and by the time you arrived you were exhausted despite not doing anything but passing San snacks every once in a while. 

Squeals of joy and multiple little feet padding against the hardwood floor had your lips curling upwards as you opened the door. You crouched down and were greeted with two kids catapulting in your embrace.

“Hello little chicks,” you said and planted a kiss on the crown of their heads.

“Did you miss us?” Borah asked, her small hands tightening around your neck leaving barely any room for her little brother. 

Before you could reassure her the door opened behind you and in came San, thus stealing the lovely cuddle session right from beneath your nose.

“Uncle San!”

He lifted both children in his arms and beamed at their giggles and kicking legs. You craned your head up, eyes trailing up to San’s closed ones, and your heart swelled with love. He looked like he belonged right there surrounded by tiny humans with toothless smiles and snotty noses.  

A tug at your sleeve had your head whipping forwards, “Kai,” you cooed at the youngest of the batch earning a blurb of happy noises.

The hallway proceeded to be crowded by the rest of the house. Hugs and kisses were exchanged with your family and out of the corner of your eyes you could see San exchanging a firm handshake with your father.

“You’re right in time for dinner!” Your mother gleefully exclaimed and ushered you inside, the little ones slinking around her legs like overly fed kittens mooching for more food.

The first hour was spent catching up and talking about everything you’ve missed out on in each other’s lives. Your father initiated small talk with San, asking him about the drive there and if he had a lot of work even wondering how the rest of Ateez were doing. To your relief your parents treated him as their third son and your siblings weren’t opposed to the idea of another brother.

You sat in between Jun and Jisoo – his wife – giving her all of your attention. Apparently she was in the middle of her second trimester, something you just found out. You sent Jun a quick glare and a whack to the back of his head, and as he was about to fight back he slumped back in his seat all thanks to the stern eyes of his wife.

“Here let me help you, mom.” 

San ventured into the open kitchen and took the plates from your mother’s hands. She tried stopping him but it was to no avail, once a gentleman, always a gentleman. So she did the next best thing. 

“Are you not embarrassed Jun? Sitting on your rear while the guests prepare the table!”

“I’m a guest too?!” He cried and Jisoo stifled a laugh behind her palm, the other hand rubbing her swollen belly.

“Yah, guest my ass. It’s your house as much as it’s mine so get over here before I rip your ear off.”

San stood by the table and waited for another chance to interfere, or as Jun liked to call it ‘buttering up to the in-laws’. You creeped up behind San and leaned your cheek against his bicep.

“You good?” He wrapped his arm around your waist and pressed a lingering kiss to the side of your head. If someone knew what it meant to be separated from family then it was San, having not seen his own parents in how many years now?

“I’m perfect,” you replied and discreetly created some space between you as the rest of the family entered the kitchen. 

Unlike San, you weren’t very keen on showing public affection especially as you guys never did it due to him being a literal celebrity. You had no problem showering him with love behind closed doors, but it was different with so many people around and in front of your parents nonetheless. That was just forbidden, almost illegal in your books. 

As if they hadn’t done the deed at least four times–

“Well go on, why are you standing there like sheep waiting for Lassie.”

Everyone swammered the table per your mother’s request. You, San and Borah sat on one side of the table with your mother and father on each end, and Jun, Jisoo and Hana across from you.

“How is work, sweetie?”

You faced your mother as she filled your plate with food and you practically tore the spatula from her hands.

“It’s good. There’s a lot now that people are on vacation, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“You’ve always been a hard worker,” she grumbled. “And how are you otherwise?” 

Your brows furrowed, “I’m great too. What do you mean?” 

She stared you dead in the eyes, making sure you were looking at her too, and flickered her gaze down to your stomach and back up again three times.

“I am healthy.”

The bite you tried to hide slipped out and she couldn’t help but scoff. 

“Of course you’re healthy. I don’t give birth to sick babies.”

You don’t know when your mother turned so…sour. When her gentle touches turned to pinches and words of endearment became sneers of displeasure. Over one summer she had changed drastically and called every two to three weeks, asking the same questions, hoping for different answers.

“At least someone here is eating for two.”

The sentence struck you right in the heart and it bothered you how easily she got under your skin. As if prioritizing yourself brought shame on your whole family tree, it wasn’t like she didn’t have a soccer team of grandkids already.

Your sister-in-law smiled timidly and you couldn’t help but feel sorry for her being put in the spotlight just because of your mother’s pettiness.

“Oh, that reminds me, San-ah! We watched your Return of Superman episode,” Hana said excitedly. 

“Who do you like more, uncle San, me or Jaeyul?”

“Mmm, that is a hard question, Borah. How about this, I’ll tell you if you promise to keep it a secret?”

The five year old immediately nodded and San – keeping his promise – gently whispered in her ear, “You.” 

A gasp slinked out of her lips and she threw her hands over her mouth, the two exchanged a look and San made a zipping motion over his lips, a gesture Borah copied. 

“Wah, you’re so good with kids San-ah,” Jun complimented.

“I was just about to say that! We couldn’t stop smiling, it was so endearing. All of you, really,” your sister added and pushed her thick glasses up against her nose. 

San straightened at the praise. A dust of red covered his face accompanied with a bright smile. 

“I just love kids.” 

“Then it’s about time you get some, don’t keep us waiting any longer.”

Your body tensed and your grip on the spoon tightened. Your mother talked about the matter as if babies were truly delivered by storks and not an almost year long process. You kept your gaze on your plate, not daring to meet anyone’s stares, not when you could feel San’s bore into the side of your face. You two had yet to talk about the future and it wasn’t something you were ready for, especially not after his random burst of baby fever. 

San cleared his throat, “Well I’d rather first put a ring on your daughter’s finger, if that’s alright with her.”

Oh, how you loved this man. 

You didn’t need things to be official to know how you felt about San. A scribble of paper and a ring on your finger wouldn’t make your love more real, but you knew if San asked the big question you’d say yes in a heartbeat.

Heat ran through you, from the center of your heart to the tips of your toes, and it was hard to suppress the smile fighting its way on your face. The twins ‘oh-ed’ loudly, Jun even made the table into a makeshift drum as Borah and Jisoo jumped on the teasing wagon. Your father smiled at the scene before him. It was about time you got married, he thought but kept it to himself. Your mother on the other hand wasn’t all too pleased. As much as she wanted you to marry before conceiving, she didn’t want to wait any longer than necessary and with how your life was going, a marriage wasn’t an event in any of her five future calendars.

“Are we supposed to call you Mrs. Choi now?” 

A hard smack resounded in the house with a groan.

The dinner ended with no more personal questions about your and San’s relationship as all the attention was diverted to Jun and Jisoo’s unborn baby. Now you were all gathered in the living room, except for Jisoo who long passed out in Jun’s childhood bedroom. 

“Auntie.” Borah grabbed at your elbow, her legs stretched over your thighs as she sat in San’s lap with her head resting against his chest. 

“Yes, flower?”

Her eyes were droopy and she barely stayed awake despite the loud conversation of the adults. You inched closer to her to easily decipher her slurring words.

“I wanna sleep with you and uncle San.”

“Mmm, you want to cuddle with us?” She nodded tiredly. “Lemme ask uncle San first, okay flower?”

You caressed her hair and she smacked her lips before readjusting herself in San’s arms. Despite balancing between sleep and consciousness she was determined to know his answer. 

It didn’t take much more than a gentle ‘Sannie’ for you to catch his attention, “Borah wants to sleep in our bed. Is that alright with you?” 

He glanced down at the usually sugar rushed child and chuckled at her passed out form. “Of course. Here, I’ll tuck her in.”

While he went upstairs, easily navigating through the house from the previous visits, you stepped foot in the kitchen. The dishes from the dinner had just been pushed aside by your mother as she was dead set on everyone spending more time together, not allowing anyone entry in the kitchen unless it was to get more food. 

Although she was challenging your patience for the past five hours, you still loved her dearly so washing the dishes was the least you could do without blatantly saying it.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” 

Speak of the devil and they shall appear.

“Nothing, making your life easier.”

“Oh, please. My life hasn’t been any easier since you moved out. Constantly worrying about you.”

“Really, mom? There’s nothing to worry about plus it’s not like I’m alone. I have San.” You rinsed a plate and stacked it on the rack to your left.

“I know…That’s what I’m afraid of.”

A glass nearly slipped out of your hands. Your confused eyes met her worried ones and you bit the inside of your cheek, not really understanding what she was getting at.

“Why…I’m sorry, what are you exactly…afraid of?” 

The anxiety grew like weeds in your mind at her gentle whisper of your name. Did she not like San? But that was impossible; she practically referred to him as her favorite son-in-law. 

“Don’t you think it’s time you two get serious?”

“Okay!” You dropped the sponge in the sink and placed your soapy hands on your hips. “You really need to stop talking in riddles or my head is going to explode from anxiety.”

“There you go again with that anxiety. It’s not real!”

“Nope! Don’t try to change the subject. Say what you really mean or just stop talking, mom I swear it’s the only chance I’m giving you to be outright honest with me.”

A beat of silence passed and then another. Just as you thought she was backing down, the second most outrageous thing of the day came out of her mouth.

“Get married to San before he leaves you for someone else.”

You scoffed, “Unbelievable. You’re unbelievable.”

The rag hanging off your shoulder was snatched as you used it to dry your hands, but the anger proved that to be difficult so you bolted up to your room, not bothering with bidding anyone a good night’s sleep. You just needed to get away from the tension downstairs and, believe it or not, you craved San’s comfort.

Anger clouded your vision and all rational thoughts were pushed aside as you threw the door open, scaring San and nearly arousing little Borah. As much as you wanted to slam it shut, you couldn’t. Instead you did the childish-angry thing where you swing the door with all your might and stop it just as it was about to close and create an atomic-like explosion. 

San rose from his comfortable position on the pink fluffy carpet that teenage-you chose, eyes wide in alarm and arms reaching for you. 

He had changed out of the black hoodie and gray suit pants and into something more comfortable; a satin black pajamas you gifted him for Valentine’s day with a pair of semi-rimless glasses perched on his nose. Something about the look made him so domestic your anger nearly disappeared into thin air. 

“Woah, woah. What’s wrong?” 

You hid your face in your hands and San wasted no time taking you in his arms, bringing your body close to him. The motion had you sighing deeply as you exhaustively sunk into his embrace. San didn’t push for an answer and for that you were grateful. He rubbed your back and kissed your temple, nose and cheek.

“It’s my mom,” you eventually whispered.

“You wanna talk about it?” 

You didn’t move at first, weighing your options. Sharing the harsh words of your mom would lead to a conversation you weren’t ready to take. So you shrugged and clasped your hands around his torso. 

“Yes and no.”

“Okay, come here.” 

He gave you another kiss before moving you so your back was against his chest and shuffled over to the bed. He sat down by Borah’s feet, careful not to wake her, and pulled you between his legs dangling over the edge of the queen sized bed. His hands found home on your stomach immediately easing you off your anger. 

“We’ll do whatever you feel like. We can talk about it if you want or I can just listen to you, but if you don’t want to we won’t. We can find something else to do. It’s up to you, honey.”

You took his hands in yours and examined his each and every finger. A wave of nervousness washed over you and a distraction was needed to untangle your tied tongue. 

“She just said some…mean things I guess.”

“About you?”

You nodded silently. “About us.”

San hummed and you honestly expected a stronger reaction, but you should’ve known better. 

He was rational and never really lashed out, at least not that you knew of. You’d never seen him angry enough to act on it.

“She didn’t mean anything ill thought, but you were the starting point of it.”

“Look at me?”

As you faced him his eyes immediately found yours and in them were swirls of pure affection and sincerity.

“I love you.”

The skin on your cheeks burned hot and your lips curled into an embarrassed smile. The confession sent a magic tingle through your body.

“Where is this coming from?”

“I love you,” he said again, not satisfied with your response.

“I love you too, Sannie.”

“Good. Don’t worry ‘bout what your mom says. I love you and nothing will change that.”

Reassuring words and mellow touches. 

“Nothing?”

Not even your fear of childbirth? 

Or the idea that the two of you never may have children?

“Nothing, my love.”

And if he noticed the turn your smile took – going from happy to sad – he didn’t mention it. Because despite everything you couldn’t stop the gnawing thoughts of dread and what if’s from filling your mind.

“Did you watch the episode?”

“What episode?”

“The one of Seonghwa-hyung, Woo and I with the kids.”

Right, that one.

At first you didn’t purposely push it back on your agenda but the more you remembered his wish of starting a family the more chores you suddenly had to do and oh, that pile of paperwork could certainly not wait until after the weekend and when you actually had the time to watch it your phone would ping with a billion messages, every single one coming from San who insisted he craved to hear your voice and see your ‘absolutely angelic face’ – his words. 

So no. You hadn’t seen it.

“Ah, really?” He laughed at the speed you shook your head. “Well, let’s watch it together.”

“Now?”

“Mmm. Unless you don’t wanna?”

“Oh– Uhm, no! Go ahead, I’ll just change into something comfortable.”

Why he brought his laptop for a two day journey, you had no idea but apparently it worked in his favor because there you were laying on the side closest to the wall with Borah snuggled between you guys while the laptop was perched on San’s stomach, the episode playing in full swing.

Every interaction with the twins or Jaeyul made your guts twist and clench. You had to admit it was cute; so cute that your dinner almost went back up the same way it came from. You felt so bad and the worst of it all was the guilt that followed, the guilt of knowing you weren’t doing anything wrong yet you’d still be treated as if you were. 

And it was such a shitty situation, because how come that the man who’d single-handedly light up each and every star for you, also was the one to summon the clouds obscuring the night sky?

You didn’t notice San’s lingering eyes or the way his fingers itched to hold yours or the three word long question resting on his tongue. Not that he was being obvious about it. Whenever you looked at him he’d flash you that derpy smile of his and a reassuring blink that lasted a second too long. 

It may have been unclear to you, but nothing passed your radar of a brother. He did have the maturity of a boy going through early stages of puberty, but you had to give it to him, he was observant. Too observant for his own good.

“What’s going on with you and lover boy?”

Thanks to Jun’s stupidity you both were honored with dish-duties. What you didn’t know was that it was all a part of his masterplan. 

“What?”

“I don’t know I’m the one asking you.”

You glared at him and he wordlessly took the clean tray from you.

“I’m just saying, we dudes, we see when something’s wrong.”

“So something’s wrong with San?”

“Not with San.” He put the tray in place and threw the rag over his shoulder, painfully dragging out the conversation, “With you.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me?” 

“Mm-mm, there is. You’re all tense and silent, and anytime someone mentions a baby you do this thing where you disapp– Yeah, just like that!” He snapped his fingers and pointed at your face void of emotion.

“I’m just not feeling it today.”

A gasp left his mouth and he looked around almost alarmed. “Don’t tell me you’re…pregnant?” He whispered the last word as if it was a crime that could sentence you to life in prison.

Out of sheer surprise and terror you smacked the side of his head. 

“Are you out of your mind?!” You hissed back.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“It is a no!” 

“Okay, don’t hit me again!” As you raised your arm he simultaneously threw his hands up to shield himself from your wrath. 

A third party watched the banter from the living room, his feet tucked under his thighs in a pretzel motion and tongue poking at his cheek. The three years you spent together, from the platonic start to the blossoming romance, granted you more knowledge of each other than anyone else. 

San noticed your change in behavior at the dinner table last night, after the talk with your mother and as you cozied up to him in bed. At first he brushed it off as jitters for not being home for so long and the overwhelming emotions of finally meeting everyone again, but the more he thought of it the more he realized it wasn’t like you. And he promised himself to ask you about it, he just needed to find the perfect moment when you weren’t being swammered by everyone else which proved to be nearly impossible. If you weren’t hounded by your mother or bothered by your siblings, then you were stuck with the little ones and their sticky fingers.

“San-ah.”

Hana brought him out of his thoughts.

“Do you ever see yourself having kids?”

The question threw him off guard because wasn’t it obvious? What more could he want than to start a family with the love of his life?

“Of course, but it’s not something we’ve gotten around yet. We’re not rushing anywhere either!” 

Hana nodded and took a long sip of her chamomile tea. There was something so uneasy with her watchful eyes and the slight purse of her lips that had San thinking a little too much to his liking.   

Was he missing something? 

And he really shouldn’t have asked, prod at her interest and start something he wasn’t sure he was ready for but being the curious cat he was, San couldn't help himself.

“If you don’t mind, why are you asking?”

“Mmm…you see, she’s not the brightest when it comes to children.”

That sentence sounded like an unstrung guitar being played with a dull rock underwater. If San remembered correctly, you shone the brightest around your nieces and nephews. There was never a dull moment with them, always bringing you to tears from laughing too much. He saw you with them; you were gentle, thoughtful and careful, and he was certain it had nothing to do with you sharing the same blood. 

San must have looked confused because Hana spluttered out an explanation, her hands waving around at the speed of light. 

“I’m just saying that because I know how you’re with kids. Anyone can see you love them and I know it wouldn’t be fair to you.” 

“What wouldn’t be fair?”

“Not having kids,” she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

San wanted to ask more questions yet he decided to hold his tongue. He wouldn’t be able to see the complete puzzle anyways and he knew the missing piece could only be received from one person – you.

“It’s a mutual concern of ours and we are just looking out for you.” She gave him a few pats of comfort, for what he had yet to find out, “God knows my husband would be devastated if I didn’t want kids.”

San listened silently, the frown on his face deepening with each word.

Did your sister not want kids? 

He followed her line of vision leading straight to you and then it hit him.

You didn’t want kids. 

The images of San holding a toddler that was the spitting image of him; a head too big for its body, chubby cheeks and faint brows, haunted you every night. Some dreams were more vivid than others, but they were never the same. The most recent one was of the three of you taking a walk in the park. The little girl sat on San’s shoulders wearing a purple hat with cat ears while you trailed behind them, a matching bag around your shoulder and a camera in your hands. As San turned around you caught a glimpse of their bright smiles and identical dimples. The girl saw you and stretched her arms out, a giddy ‘mom!’ tumbling out of her mouth.

That’s when you woke up in a puddle of sweat. You could barely catch your own breath as you jumped out of bed, nearly toppling to the floor in the process. 

A cloud of guilt and shame loomed over you for various reasons. Mainly for dreaming of a future you could not see for yourself. It got to the point where you stayed up all night just to avoid the dreams. You picked up more shifts at the office, working late nights and early mornings, and it was a success until you cleared your whole schedule. Then came the idea of starting a new hobby; crocheting but your patience ran out rather quickly, who knew learning a double crochet would be so difficult? 

Your guilty conscience affected your relationship with San too. Dates were painfully awkward as if you were a high school couple going on your first outing together, stealing shy glances and looking away as soon as your eyes met. 

Then it was the skinship, whenever you accidentally touched fingers or feet collided underneath the dinner table, you’d withdraw so quickly as if burned by the scorch of a hundred suns. It was almost foreign to cuddle up on the couch too, San’s hands on your lower back and your cheek against his chest. At first you didn’t think he noticed the change in your behavior, but as you laid on top of him you could feel his heart rapidly beat in your ear and hands ghost over your skin, a trail of goosebumps following his faint touch.

Neither dared to speak up about the thick tension, assuming it would all go away in due time but the closer you got to the date of Ateez leaving for their tour in Latin America, the less likely it was to subdue. 

Little did you know San wasn’t feeling any better himself. Hana’s words played in his head on a loop, creating new presumptions of what she meant. She wasn’t that straightforward with her message and San could’ve either pieced together the wrong information or been completely spot on. He’d never know if he never asked, which proved to be harder than expected.

The few times your schedules aligned you were interrupted by San’s phone – Seonghwa and Mingi checking if he was dining at yours or with them – and if it weren’t that then it was something else. The days he made sure nothing could interrupt he’d chicken out last minute and smoothly avert the attention to anything remotely more interesting.

“Did you see Mingi’s new hair color?”

“I made Jongho promise to teach you how to break an apple in half!”

“Yeosang wants to buy a puppy!”

The confidence San possessed on stage in front of thousands was plummeting to the ground. Hard and fast. It honestly baffled him how much control one person could hold over him. Not that he complained, who was supposed to make his knees weak and brain all mushy besides you?

Knees weak and mushy brain was exactly how he felt as you opened the door, revealing yourself. You wore a black and white striped sweater with a black skirt stopping midthigh. The top was slightly big so you tucked it in your skirt. A small dark bag hung over your shoulder matching your leather boots. Simple yet elegant jewelry adorned your fingers and ears. You topped it off with black see-through stockings and black coat. 

“Is this too much for a night out?”

You were stunning. 

“It’s perfect, babe.” 

He handed you a beautiful bouquet of pink and red roses mixed with fillers, the brown paper gave them an old school look. You suppressed a squeal of joy and took the flowers from him, planning to put them in a vase, but not before planting a quick and shy kiss to the apple of his cheek. Your lipstick smeared on his skin almost camouflaging with the redness crawling up his neck, attacking his ears and cheeks, luckily for him you bolted to the kitchen, embarrassed at your own gesture.

You truly were like a pair of high schoolers, but for once you didn’t feel an ounce of guilt.  Perhaps it was your consciousness pushing the thoughts away for the night as it was your last date before San left overseas. 

“Ready to go?”

San was breathtaking.

It was no surprise that your boyfriend was a work of art, but there was something different about him tonight. Dark slacks accented his hard thighs a black turtleneck covered his bulging arms and slim waist with a gray coat hung snuggly over his frame reaching his calves. You always said his natural hair color suited him the best and it was true, especially when it was slicked back with a few strands falling over his exposed forehead.

You gulped harshly, “Yup.” 

You placed your hand in his and smiled as his fingers thread through yours like the roots of a tree becoming one with the earth. Giddy smiles hid behind your masks but the sparkle in your eyes was brighter than the night sky and its million stars.

San stuffed your woven hands in the pocket of his large coat for the short walk to his manager’s car and then his hand found its long lost place on your thigh during the drive to your favorite restaurant. 

You were addicted to his reassuring words and mellow touches.

San held his breath and was fully prepared to feel your body still at the skinship or for you to slowly pull away, but when you did the complete opposite – tightening your hold on his hand – he exhaled in relief. 

The restaurant was made for celebrities to have somewhere to go and enjoy their time without noisy people and overbearing fans. They even had a no phone policy to maximize the safety and privacy of everyone inside, that way the possibility of scandals coming out were zero to none. It wasn’t everyday you went on expensive dates for obvious reasons, mainly because of San’s schedule but also because you felt bad for him paying every time. It was no secret San earned more money than you, being a literal idol, but you still made it work somehow.  

For the first time in a while you felt good beside him. The unsettling dreams and thoughts of the future were as if non-existent and you didn’t want it any other way, at least for the night. Halfway through your second glass of wine San started blabbering about the tour. You wouldn’t say he was drunk, but rather relaxed. 

“So where are you going first?”

He thought for a minute, “Mexico, Brazil, Chile and then Colombia.”

“Isn’t it your first time performing there? That must be exciting!”

“Mhm, I can’t wait to see our Latin American Atinys. I know some of them have been with us since predebut. Honestly I’d travel around the world just to meet them all.”

“That’d be the dream wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he smiled, “It’d be even better if you were there with me.”

His small pout and glistening eyes made you laugh, “Because that’d be such a good idea. I can bet all my life savings it would end up in a disaster one way or another.”

“What? Why?”

You placed your utensils down, “San, honey. I don’t think you realize how popular you are, like all of twitter wants to fuck you.” 

San stopped mid chewing, his eyes wide and brows raised to the roof. The loading wheel appeared above him and he smiled embarrassingly as your words finally registered, his teeth white but the tips of his ears burned red. 

“Yah, don’t say that.” He suddenly looked away as if he wasn’t showered with compliments on a daily basis.

“Well it’s Atinys’ words, not mine.” 

“You jealous?”

The cheekiness didn’t go unnoticed by you so in an equally teasing tone, you replied, “I can’t be jealous of something I actually get to do.”

And if there was anything better than a tipsy San then it was a flustered one.

“You shy, baby?”

He shook his head with a little ‘no’ that barely reached your ears.

The rest of the date was perfect – much to your surprise – and not once did the guilt ridden thoughts infiltrate your mind, not even when you passed a happy couple pushing a stroller on your way home or when you saw, what must have been, the biggest smile of the night on San’s handsome face. For a split second you thought everything would work out in the end. You’d overcome this obstacle just like you did with the move to Seoul or with the test you nailed after months of pulling all-nighters. But only for a split second because as the clock struck midnight your night took an unexpected turn with it.

“You need a place to stay for the night?” It came out more suggestive than you intended, however you didn’t mind.

“I don’t know, did you plan to sleep tonight?”

Your pointer finger rested against your chin as you pretended to think.

“If that’s the case then you won’t be getting any sleep tonight.”

A pair of very familiar hands grabbed your hips sending an electric feeling through your body despite the skirt separating your skin from touching. Your bodies fit like two pieces of a missing puzzle. 

“I wasn’t planning on it,” you replied and threw your head back against the crook of his neck. 

“Good.”

You were a feather in San’s hand and he treated you with care. Never too rough or foul, always considerate and kind but not opposed to it if you asked. He spun you around and stared at you with a million stars in his eyes, completely and utterly lost in the beautiful galaxy that is you. 

San cupped your cheek and traced your bottom lip with his thumb. His touch stopped at the corner of your mouth, his eyes widened as you lightly bit down on his finger. Your warm tongue against his cold skin. Your parted lips pulled into a smirk and it spurred San to push his thumb deeper in your mouth, now laying completely flat against the wet muscle. The innocent yet sultry bat of your eyes drove him crazy.

Reassuring words and mellow touches. 

He wanted you. He wanted to lick and nip at your skin, paint it full of violet and crimson clover. Make your writhe and turn in his hold until breathless pleas filled your apartment. He craved you beneath him, bare and vulnerable while he worshiped your body with praises and sinful words. He wanted to make love to you.

Yet he couldn’t. 

Not when you were both haunted by your thoughts.

He slipped his thumb from your mouth taking the sexual atmosphere with it.

“Love?” 

His eyes snapped to yours and he knew then and there that the art of love wouldn’t solve any of your worries, because at the end of the night he’d still travel halfway across the world with the nagging thoughts packed between his briefs and socks.

“Is everything alright?” You gently latched onto his wrist, thumb stroking the back of his hand.

“I love you,” San suddenly confessed.

A crease formed between your brows, lips glued together and eyes almost glossy. You were taken back at the sweet words but even more so at the way he was looking at you – almost sad. 

“Where is this coming from?”

“I love you,” he repeated. 

The scene wasn’t a sense of deja-vu, that much you knew, but rather a memory from a few weeks ago. A memory that was much sweeter and domestic than now. The response San expected to hear didn’t come as quickly as he hoped and through his tipsy vision he recognized a moment of hesitation. 

“Honey?”

“I love you too, San.” 

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” He suddenly asked.

The loving touches and flirty banter went down the drain and you were left with a silence so loud and overwhelming you couldn’t think properly. 

“What?”

“I said, what’s going on in that head of yours?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean something’s got you distracted.”

“There’s nothing going on,” you insisted stubbornly.

“Absolutely nothing?”

“San…everything's fine.”

“Except it isn't! I know you enough to see the changes. You barely sleep and this is the first time in days where I’ve seen you with a real smile.”

It broke his heart to see you slink from his embrace. Arms crossing over your chest and head turning sideway.

“Honey, please talk to me.” He sounded desperate. 

“And I am. There’s nothing wrong.” 

He raked his hand through his hair. The deep sigh whirling around your apartment. 

“Don’t lie. Not to me.”

You stayed silent yet again. 

“I’m here for you, always will be.”

“I can’t,” you whispered into the august breeze.

“What?”

“I can’t tell you,” you repeated a little louder.

“Why?”

“Because you’ll hate me!” It stung San into silence. “You’ll hate me and never want to speak to me again.”

He hungered for your touch, hands itching to reach for yours and as he took a step forward you took one back.

“You can’t keep it bottled up forever, love.” 

“I can try.”

Tears formed in your eyes and your voice cracked. You tried blinking them away but they raced down your cheeks against your will.

“C’mere.”

That was all it took for you to fling yourself at him. Your hands gripped the back of his shirt, nails digging into the expensive material. One hand cradled the back of your head and the other supported your back, rubbing gentle circles against your knitted sweater. San leaned down and pressed a long kiss to your crown, lingering and breathing in the sweet scent of you.

“I can’t breathe without you by my side so if you think I’ll ever hate you, you’re wrong. My love, you could break my heart a thousand times over and I’d still find reason to love you.”

Hot tears soaked into his shirt and you wanted to disagree but the tremble of your lips told you to be quiet so you shook your head violently instead.

You stood there for a long time, in each other’s arms with soft kisses and soothing touches. The emotions swirling around the apartment were too big for your shoulders and the rational part of you knew that you wouldn’t be able to carry them with you much longer.

“I don’t want children.”

It was interesting how a four worded sentence could either be the demise or rise of a relationship. What path your and San’s would take was yet to be determined, but God did you hope it was the latter. 

The argument broke out three days ago and while you've gone months without seeing each other, these 72 hours were by far the most excruciating period of your relationship. You didn’t ever think there’d be a person you’d miss this much. To see and hold, kiss and laugh with.

The first day was spent bathing in your own tears and snot. You were forced out of work by your co-workers as they didn’t buy your lie of ‘everything being alright’. It wasn’t like you could tell them your idol boyfriend of three years ran head first out of your apartment after an argument, absolutely not because you literally told him to give you space. So from nine am to nine pm you were cooped up in your bed, crying, scrolling through your socials, crying some more until you eventually fell asleep. 

The second day wasn’t anything better, except for the three tubs of ice cream you inhaled. They were kept in the back of your freezer for emergencies such as these. With a quick pat on the back for eating something you pushed the containers aside and continued your self wallowing, dressed in one of your (San’s) hoodies that smelled of caramelized sugar. Your phone blew up with calls from your family. Everyone concerned about you suddenly going MIA, but not enough to pay you a visit which you were both thankful and bitter about.

The third following morning came around and you decided that it was time to get your shit together. You still had a job to return to and bills to pay. It was all going well too, you cleaned the apartment and got rid of all the empty ice cream tubs, made a home cooked meal for the first time in three days, you even changed your bedsheets and did the laundry. The last thing on your list was a well deserved full-body shower.

The frantic ring of your doorbell fell on deaf ears as water pattered on your bare body and the tiled floor. Your fingers worked through your hair, rubbing almost painfully at your scalp as shampoo water went down the drain. 

It was first after you cut the stream and stepped out of the shower that you realized someone was at the door. With a roll of your eyes, you leisurely squeezed the excess water out of your hair and wrapped a towel around yourself. The chime of the bell didn’t stop and you were on the brink of insanity.

There were only two people with keys to your place; San and your mom. 

Your parents had no reason for coming all the way to Seoul in the middle of the day and San…even though your relationship wasn’t in the best shape you knew he’d never turn up unannounced, whether he told you by call or text didn’t matter as long as he reached out. He said it was a way of respecting your privacy and as much as you didn’t care for that, it was heartwarming. 

6:30 PM glared the digital clock on the console table in the hallway. 

All you wanted was one normal day. A morning without spilling coffee on your clean clothes, an afternoon without stubbing your toe on the desk in your office and a night without someone trying to sell you cookies or whatnot. It’d also be so much easier to crawl beneath your sheets and cry yourself to sleep without a maniac creating the newest billboard hit outside your apartment, but hey each to their own.

As much as you wanted to swing the door open and bark out profanities at the nuisance, you knew better and opted with looking through the peeping hole. Never did you expect a soaked San to stand there, rolling back and forth on the balls of his feet while desperately abusing the doorbell.

San didn’t have time to react, neither at the door being opened nor for you appearing with only a towel. You took hold of his hand and dragged him inside to which he shut the door behind him and somehow managed to take off his shoes. You threw him a spare towel and disappeared in your room. San stood there like a kicked dog, ears flat against his head and tail certainly not wagging. A few seconds later you returned dressed in one of San’s many t-shirts and your pajama shorts, carrying a change of clothes.  

You wordlessly gave them to him and escaped to your room again. San took that as his queue to get dressed. 

The run to your apartment gave him barely any time to collect his thoughts, too busy with providing his burning lungs with air and keeping an eye out for cars and potential followers. So now that he stood, not in front of your door, but in your living room he was completely shitting his pants. 

The cold and distant facade you managed to pull off in front of him crumbled the second you crossed the threshold of your room. You really strained all seventeen of your muscles not to cry and you could argue it was your best accomplishment yet as not a single tear kissed your cheeks.

“Hey.”

You looked up from your spot on the bed. Staring at your partner who stopped by the door. Your throat was dry and itchy, brain indiciseive of what to say and do. He wasn’t supposed to be here, that much you knew. Their agency had this weird rule of not allowing their idols out a day prior to their tour and it didn’t sit right with you knowing he went against their words, for you nonetheless. 

“San, what are you doing here?”

Unsteady sleeping schedules, caffeine filled drinks and insomnia were the standard for idols. Anyone claiming otherwise was either lying straight through their teeth or had a great planning method something San could really use these days. 

San was no stranger to succumbing to sleep at the early hours of the morning or not sleeping at all. The extra time was usually put into practice or perfecting his secret project, and sometimes something simple as laying in bed staring up at the ceiling.

But now it was hard to do any of that with you taking over his every thought. He found himself wondering about things that weren’t supposed to infiltrate his mind for the next five years. 

Get married. Move in. Adopt a cat. Have kids.

A short list of things that were crossing the line between adolescence and adulthood. 

The image of you and San doing that together spread a radiant smile across his face and his roommates, clueless as ever, couldn’t stop their own mouths from curving upwards. There was truly no other person he could think of doing any of that with and his heart was heavy as he realized he may never complete the list.

It took three calls from Seonghwa for San to acknowledge the older man sitting on the edge of his bed beside the open and empty suitcase. 

“Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

Seonghwa leaned back on his arms keeping him from completely falling on the bed and stared at San’s computer screen, nonchalantly watching as he played one of his many games. The elder had come straight out of his own room from finishing a youtube live – a youtube live San crashed for a good fifteen minutes before abruptly leaving – and although Atiny probably didn’t notice the change of behavior in the younger Ateez member, Seonghwa did. 

San sighed as the last character of his team died and the word ‘defeat’ flashed in large capital letters took over the majority of the screen. 

“San-ah.”

Said man placed his expensive headset on the desk and twirled in his chair, and Seonghwa had a feeling the glum look on his features wasn’t from losing the game. 

“I’m not saying you aren’t. I’m just checking if there’s something bothering you. Something I can help you with?” 

The prolonged silence did nothing to soothe Seonghwa’s worries. He closely watched the hesitation slowly crack through San’s facade – bottom lip caught between his teeth, picking at his nails and eyes glazed over, darting literally everywhere except at Seonghwa.

Cautiously, he asked if it had something to do with you and his suspicion was confirmed when their eyes met. 

“It’s…complicated.”

“How so?”

“Because I thought of a thing and it turns out I was right.”

Seonghwa tried asking as few questions as possible to not overwhelm San, but the conversation wasn’t giving him much to work with.

“And what were you thinking about?”

San ran his hands through his black hair and looked as if he was racking his brains, he then violently rubbed at his eyes too. It was one thing to think about the whole situation and another to say it out loud, possibly speaking it into existence. 

“You don’t have to te–”

“Starting a family.” 

The trip to your hometown really did a number on him, Seonghwa thought. 

Cheeks red and palms sweaty, San cleared his throat. A little embarrassed at the confession and for cutting Seonghwa off so abruptly.

“I was thinking of what it’d be like to start a family with her.”

“Starting a what with who?”

Mingi stood in the doorway with parted lips and eyebrows raised to the roof, wet tufts of blonde and black hair peeked from underneath the towel on his head.

“It was just a thought.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with it,” Seonghwa assured.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t really matter.” 

“How come?” Mingi pressed, now leaning against the door.

“Because she doesn’t want a family…or well, at least not kids.”

Seonghwa and Mingi exchanged glances. All of Ateez knew of San’s adoration for kids. Heck, Seonghwa had front row seats to it and all. He remembered thinking how skilled San was with the twins and even with the energized boy. 

But none of it mattered now. If what San said was true – which he had no doubts about – then your choice went above everyone else’s, including San’s. 

“And how do you feel about that?”

San looked at the eldest. “There’s nothing I can do about it. I mean, sure I love kids I do, but I love her more.”

“Then I don’t see what the issue is,” Mingi chimed in. 

“It’s still a bitter situation Mingi, and Sannie has the right to feel…upset. Have you talked to her?” 

San groaned and buried his face in the palms of his hands, thinking back how it all escalated so quickly. The split second he tried processing everything, you’d already decided it was time for him to leave and pushed him out, crying how you needed to be alone. Too stunned to properly react, San did as told.

“I walked out…”

Dread filled their guts as Mingi and Seonghwa patiently waited for the remainder of the story. They hoped San wouldn’t say what they were thinking.

“She confided in me at first and then pushed me away, screaming at me to go and I…listened. ”

“Well that changes the trajectory of things don’t you think?” Mingi said after the minute long silence and Seonghwa shot him a pointed look.

“San, we are not leaving for the tour until you talk to her,” Seonghwa declared. 

The elder had no lover of his own, but he had seen enough movies to know how these situations ended. Spoiler alert: a painful break up for both parties.

San shrugged, “I’m sure Hongjoong would like that.”

“And you don’t think your girlfriend would? Listen here. We’re supposed to leave for the airport at seven am, I’ll give you the night if you make amends.”

Seonghwa stopped before San, a wide smile on his gorgeous face. “Besides, a family doesn’t become a family when a child is brought into it. If you think about it, the three of us and the rest of the guys are like a family, right?”

“We are a family,” Mingi corrected.

“Exactly. So who’s to say you two aren’t one too?” 

“I’m here to do what I should’ve done days ago.”

It was hard to look him in the eye. The sincerity in them had your heart in knots, tugging and tightening with your every breath. 

“Can I come in?”

San had his arms by his side and hands balled into fists to keep them from trembling. There was no doubt in his mind that you’d be in his arms by the end of the night, but it didn’t stop his pulse from skyrocketing.

“You’re already here.” 

A faint, appreciative smile crossed his features as he gingerly took the seat beside you. There was no real malice to your words and he was thankful because honestly speaking he wouldn’t know what to make of it if you still needed ‘time’. San straightened and breathed out a sigh as if letting go of all his nerves.

“I want to start by saying; I’m sorry.”

You snapped your head towards him, confused as to why he was the one apologizing. You were the issue at hand here. You were the one depriving him of something he wished for, you pushed him away. Not the other way around. 

“I’m really sorry for pressuring you–”

“San, no–” You shook your head, tears already threatening to make their dramatic entrance.

“Just listen to me, please.” 

And his desperate plea was their queue to waltz in much to your dismay. 

San lifted your chin so he could see your face and frowned at the tears. “I'm sorry if I ever made you feel obliged to push your feelings aside for me. That has never been my intention and it never will be.”

He cupped your face gently in both hands and wiped away your remaining tears with his thumbs. It pained him to know the tears were inflicted by his doing.

“I love you.”

“San,” you whimpered, barely able to get the word out. 

“Hey, it’s okay. Just breathe for me. I’m not leaving.”

That was your breaking point. You heaved for air as more tears blurred your vision. A heavy weight lifted off your shoulders as you found solace in his words and San felt his own heart break at your wails. Feeling embarrassed you abruptly stood up and put a hand over your mouth to stop the broken cries. Staying true to his words, San hugged you from behind and pressed you into his embrace. Chin resting against your shoulder as his arms went around your waist. You stood like that until your tears ran dry and cries turned into hiccups.

San whispered words of encouragement in your ear, lips grazing the skin with each pronunciation. Your feet moved with his as he maneuvered you to bed and under the covers. A meteor could hit the earth and he wouldn't leave your side. You laid there in silence with your back to his chest. His arm under your neck and the other curled around your waist, keeping you flushed against his front. Your occasional sniffles filled the gaps letting San know you were awake.

“My love,” he started and you shifted as a reply of acknowledgement, “remember that night at your parents’ house? When your mother said something to upset you and you stormed up to your room?”

You nodded while playing with his fingers spread across your abdomen.

“Do you remember what I told you?” 

“That you loved me and nothing would change that.”

He kissed the back of your head. “I still stand by that. I love you. Not what you can or can’t give me. I love you when you cry and I love you when you laugh. I love you through your anger and grief. I love your kindness and selflessness.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing, please. You should only apologize when you’ve done something wrong.”

“But I led you on. San, we want different things. You want a child–” your voice cracked and you drew in a sharp breath, “–and that’s not something I’m sure I can give you, ever.” 

“That’s not true.” He sat up and leaned over your body, “I wanna cuddle you to sleep and wake you with breakfast in bed. I want us to buy furniture and assemble it together only to give up halfway through. I want us to bake a ridiculous cake that ends up in a flour fight. I want all of that with you!”

San planted a soft kiss against the back of your hand.

“Children or not, it won’t change the fact that I love you and I’ll continue to say it until all the trees are cut down, until the ocean dries out and all the stars go out. I love you. Always have and always will.”

His caring words drew a smile from you and the harsh knot around your heart slowly came undone. His affectionate eyes searched yours and he’d wait an eternity for your answer, but you didn’t need more time to know what you wanted. Your hands caressed the sides of his neck and with a quick pull of his neck, your lips clashed in a passionate kiss.

Reassuring words and mellow touches. 

© HONGJOONGSART 2023 - All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating my work is not allowed.

[prophetszendo]

How the birds fly (Pt. 1)

Content warning: attempted suicide, very negative thoughts. Only read if you are in the right mindset

Summary: the adventuring life took a toll on you, and you face your feelings on a nightly walk

Pairing: Astarion/you (no use of pronouns or y/n)

Word count: 2.7k

Tags: hurt/comfort, kissing, I guess fluff?, I am horrible at tagging please forgive me

About the dialogs: they are in two different "-marks, because my program uses my native language as default. And as I'm not a native speaker, feel free to point out typos, or simply weird sentences. I aim to be better with English.

It was a very long day. You finally made camp after walking for half a day, defending yourselves against an ambush, then gettinf lost in some woods. You ended up in a clearing, somewhere up in a mountain. You were not even sure anymore that you were heading to the right direction.

Setting up camp always came with it’s duties. One of it was collecting wood for a fire so someone can make the only meal you usually eat a day. Today, you were on wood and branch duty. As if it wasn’t me nearly always – you thought to yourself. Everyone clearly preferred not doing it. It was a long task and if unsuccesful, the bearer could be blamed. They didn’t went far enough, didn’t look hard enough.

Of course, everyone was on edge by now. The tadpoles in your head, the waiting, the constant danger looming over all of you created this snappy and sarcastic environment. They never really meant any of it, it was just a way to let off some steam.

You tried to not think about any of it while you picked up another piece of wood. Somewhere in the distance you heard some birds rustling, chirping, and then flying away. You tried to look through the trees surrounding you to see their siluettes in the dawn, but they were far away.

Once you deemed you had enough wood, you headed back. You heard the camp from far away. Your companions talked loudly, as if they were in a tavern, not on some mountain in the middle of nowhere.

This used to make you smile. You used to think there was at least once place you could remotely call warm and home. Right now it just felt distant.

„I’m back” you announced. Your companions looked up in sync, and in agreement, they took all of it from you and started making a fire to cook. Everyone, except Astarion.

He had this game with you. Sometimes he gave you attention, and other times, like this, as if you were thin air. Which you probably wouldn’t have cared about that much, if only you didn’t have feelings for him for a time now. When he gave you his attention, it was simply heavenly. Great flirtatous talks, teasing words, maybe a few stolen moments alone, or a drink for him, from you. They were cherished by you.

You sighed as you sat down, watching the others get lost in the chaos of collecting the ingredients for dinner.

Gods, you felt alone.

Later, when it was already late at night, you lied in your tent, wide awake. You were exhausted, yet dreams evaded you. Maybe for the better – you thought to yourself. Since the tadpoles, they were confusing, and you couldn’t get the proper rest and awoke feeling tried.

You decided to take a walk. Maybe moving around could make you a bit more sleepy. You decided to take the same route you used for collecting wood. At least you had an idea where you were there, and where was camp.

It was a very clear night, the moon was also full and shining bright. So bright, that it nearly dimmed all of the stars.

You zoned out while walking. When you came to, you noticed a cliff. You decided to take a rest there, and using what light tbe moon provides to just sit and watch.

There was a branch conveniently a few meters from the edge of the cliff.

In the distance, you heard and owl making noise. The next moment, it flew above you, and into the horizon.

You always wanted to fly. It seemed so free. From everything. Let it be the ground that was under you, or the burden of everyday life.

Not that you had a big burden back in Baldur’s Gate. It was the opposite, really. Everyday was the same. It grew dull overtime. Yet you couldn’t find anything motivating enough to change it. You were prepared to grow old, doing the same thing. You also had trouble bonding with people there. Not that you didn’t try, the friendships just always seemed to wither away with time. And the tavern buddies slowly all stopped showing up, until you were sitting by yourself, drinking some cheap ale.

Originally you thought of this tadpole event to be the push you needed to finally change your life around for the better. Learn new skills, like how to set up camp, survive on your own, decide which berry is edible. Make great friends for life – if you make it out alive. You were positive at the start that you would. You took on every challenge, helped every person that came your way, moved every rock to find a cure.

The others started to see you as their leader. It made you happy, gave you a purpose.

Until it became too much. You had to make the hard choices: who to side with? Which lead to follow? Kill someone and be sure they won’t spill your plan to the enemy, or let them live and be hopeful that they will be true to their promise?

It didn’t help that everyone had opinions, which they didn’t hesitate to share. And someone always disapproved, and it was on you.

And seemingly only you had nothing personal to solve. Everyone had a life, a purpose, a big enemy, an end goal. A reason to get the tadpole out. What waited for you after the adventure was just... grey. As it was before.

You sometimes wished this adventure would never end. You liked being around everyone. Karlach’s happy demeanor, how she seemed to be excitied for everything. Lae’zel and Shadowheart’s conflicts did bring some tension, but it always turned out well in the end. Gale and his magical hunger made you slightly amused: who actually eats boots? Not to mention Wyll, Halsin or Volo.

Astarion. Obviously, he was the star of the group. For you, at least. You loved how he liked deception and mocking people. You loved hearing his sweet words, especially when one of those were your name. You loved, when he opened up a little about himself. How life was for him as a spawn. It twisted your heart to hear him struggle, and you tried to help any way you could. Basically blidly following if he had a suggestion, even claiming it was your idea, if the others asked.

You believed your feelings became obvious for the others some time ago. You overheard them talk, then suddenly go silent when they saw you. Your name was whisperes silently along with Astarion’s a few times, but you were never included in those conversations.

You stood up, and took a few steps ahead, while fixing your gaze on the stars. They looked beautiful, like tiny little lanters far in the sky.

Like how the blood splattered from the goblin you killed today.

The image suddenly invaded your mind, and you now all you saw in the sky was bloodshed and violence. You didn’t want to end their life, it seemed pointless. They didn’t even seem so evil, just like a few pawns in the bigger game.

You tried to redirect your thoughts, so you thought about something else. More precisely, someone else. His silverish hair, eyes so sharp, that they see into your soul, his vampire smile he only shows with you.

Usually these pictures comfort you, but how Astarion had been acting lately, you just felt more invisible, even smaller.

Yes, invisible. You found the right word. As if you were hidden behind your responsibilities and decisions. As if your opinions, emotions did not matter anymore. Because you will do all the hard stuff, let it be collecting wood, taking the blame, or deciding to let someone bleed out or end their suffering.

They probably haven’t even noticed just how much you had on your shoulders.

Would they notice if you were gone?

You took a few steps closer to the cliff. You wondered what could be on the bottom. Maybe the river you passed recently? Or was that on the other side? Maybe a few boulders.

The memory of the birds you heard today flashed i ro your mind. You really did want to feel free, like how they were flying away from you.

You stood on the edge. The front of your feet were not even on the ground anymore. The moon didn’t give enough light to see what was on thr bottom. It seemed like a dark pit, that could just swallow you whole.

You felt something cold on your face. You realized that while you were lost in your thoughts, you started crying.

You never faced your raw feelings before. Maybe that’s why. Or because you finally made a decision. One, that would make sure you never ever had to make anymore.

„I always wanted to try flying...” you whispered in front of you, into the abyss.

You closed your eyes, and put your arms out, imitating wings. You shifted your weight, and started to fall forward...

...and with a suddend yank, you fell back, onto something warm.

You were confused, and it took you a few seconds to realize what happened. Sounds slowly made it to your ear, and the little light into your eyes.

„Fuck, dammit, you... No, it’s not your fault, I’m sorry, but shit, I can’t believe... Do you know what you were doing?!”

A voice came from under and behind you. It was rambling, sounding very distraught. Maybe even scared.

You turned around, still a bit lightheaded from the shock of falling backwards. Your eyes met a very familiar pair of scarlet eyes.

Astarion.

He was panting, as if he ran from camp all the way here. But you doubted it, he wouldn’t run after you. Maybe he noticed you were gone?

Suddenly, he hugged you tightly. His fingers dug into you, as if you could just float away anytime from his grasp. He felt warm, which was unusual to you. But truth be told, he never held you like this before.

He struggled breathing. He didn’t need to get air, which just added to the list of strange things happening. Maybe you actually fell and now living in just a fantasy?

But no, you slowly started to hear soft sniffles with the breathing. Astarion was... Sobbing.

„I’m... So, so sorry” he said, making eyecontact again. You noticed tears forming in his eyes.

You were at a loss for words. You finally pieced together what happened. Astarion saved you in the last second, and he was clearly distraught by what happened.

You felt guilty.

„What happened?” Astarion asked with a soft voice. You looked away, not being able to make a sound. You yearned to share your feelings with him, but there seemed to be no proper words to use. Nor a voice to say anything with.

„You... You’re so strong. What happened? What did we... What did I miss?”

The correction in his sentence made you heart flutter and ache at the same time. He clearly was very caring towards you, but you feared it was just one of those times and that it would never last longer than a few days.

„I’m...” you stuttered. Your voice felt like it wasn’t yours. You had to put all your strength into forming just a few words. „...not...strong...”

Astarion looked at you, with immense worry. You couldn’t say more now, and you felt like you couldn’t speak again for a long time.

You tugged on his tadpole, inviting him for a visit in your mind. You previously all agreed in the group, that you give everyone the privacy of their own mind, so you opening a way into yours was unusual.

You gave him a faint smile. You tried to put encouragement into it. He closed his eyes, and stepped through the door into your memories and feelings.

You showed him everything. How life was for you in Baldur’s Gate, and just how miserable you felt. How the initial excitement of this adventure turned into a daily torture of decisions, where there was no right answer, responsibilities which were crushing you, and the constant judgement of others.

You showed him the rollercoaster of feelings his actions caused. The hope you cradled for so much time, the longing you felt for him. The pain you felt everytime it seemed like he was just toying with you.

You shared how ready you were to let things end.

As he experienced your feelings, his arm grew even tighter around you, and he slowly buried his wet face into your neck.

After you showed him everything, he pulled out of your mind. He lifted his head, but only so much that his mouth was to your ear.

„You’re so much stronger than I thought you to be, darling” he whispered. „I never knew you struggled so much. You always seemed so sure, you... You never took any shit. You seemed so brave and determined.”

He gulped, and took a deep breath. He slowly lifted his head fully, to be face to face with you.

„I guess... I never thought about how it affects you. It was so easy following what you say, letting you decide on every crossroad. And it was so easy... Blaming you, if something went south. We... I should’ve stopped to think about you. And how you feel.”

Tears started forming again. He took another shaky breath, and tried to quickly blink them away.

„I always took you for granted. A strong leader, who is always there. And not just there...”

He looked down. You saw a single teardrop sneaking over his cheek. You never saw him this vulnerable before.

„I took you granted in a more... personal way too. Now that I saw myself through your eyes, I understand. Gods, I was such an asshole with you.”

He paused for a moment, as if searching for words. He opened his mouth, but closed it back soon. You sat in silence for a bit. You didn’t mind.

For the first time, you felt seen.

„I was scared of my own feelings” Astarion said suddenly. You sligthly raised your eyebrows, suggesting suprise. His own feelings?

„Yes. The ones I have for you.”

Your stomach filled up with butterflies. Did you hear that correctly? You couldn’t do anything, but blink at him.

„Whenever I realized just how much I care about you, I pushed you away. In my past, caring about someone meant you had another exploitable weak spot. Someone they could hurt to hurt you. And I didn’t want anyone to hurt you. So I pushed you away, since if I’m cold towards you, noone will think anything of you.”

He chuckled a little.

„But I could never keep it up for long. Because I missed you, Gods I missed you so much, even when you were right beside me, covering my back in a battle, sleeping just a few tents away. And yet, I kept missing you so much, it hurt. And now that I see, just how much it hurt you, I regret it so, incredibly much. We could have had sweet stolen moments together, if only I was less stubborn, and looked out for you a little more.”

Astarion looked utterly defeated and sad. You felt the truth in his words, and it was something you only ever dreamed of. You raised your hand to caress his cheek. He gave you one of those vampire smiles that made your knees weak.

He lifted both his hands, and held your face just under your ears. He pulled you closer to himself, and out your foreheads together. It was a very intimate moment.

„I think I fell in love with you” he whispered so silently, you barely heard it. But you did. And it gave your voice back.

„I fell in love with you, too” you said, giving him the first real smile since you were here.

He slowly leaned closer to you. You closed your eyes, and got lost in the moment.

And then... He kissed you.

[cutielando]

i'll take care of you ~ jj maybank

my masterlist

You woke up to the sound of your phone ringing. You reached our for it and when you saw who the caller was, you immediately sat up and answered it.

"Babe? What's wrong?"

JJ's heavy breath was the only thing you could hear.

"JJ? Is everything okay? What's going on?" you pressed, panic settling in your chest.

"Can I come over? I'll explain everything" his voice was so small, you could barely hear him.

"Of course you can, baby"

"I'll see you in 10 minutes" he said and hung up, not giving you a chance to say anything else.

It wasn't weird to get phone calls from JJ in the middle of the night, but he was never this distressed. Your mind started coming up with all kinds of scenarios, one worse than the other.

The 10 minute wait seemed like forever before you heard the all too familiar knock on your window.

You immediately jumped and opened it, being met with the bloody and bruised smiling face of your boyfriend.

"What happened to your face?" you asked while helping him enter your room without making too much noise to wake up your parents.

"Nothing serious, it's fine. Doesn't hurt as bad as it looks" he shrugged his shoulders and laid back on your bed.

You stood rooted in your spot, staring at him. You knew where the bruises came from all too well, but it didn't help that JJ was still trying to hide them from you.

"J, please just tell me the truth" your voice was small, knowing that JJ couldn't deal with screams and anger.

"I am, it's nothint that hasn't happened before. I'm used to it, it's fine" he was now sitting up, patting the spot next to him.

You bit your lip but complied and sat down, putting your right hand on his knee.

"I'm sorry you have to go through this, baby" tears started streaming down your cheeks by now, sobs fighting their way out of your body.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, it's just how he is. He's not always like this, you know, he has his good moments" the fact that he still tried to defend his dad, beaten to a pulp by him, brought even more tears and sadness in you.

"You don't deserve this, baby. Nobody should ever lay a finger on you, let alone a hand. You deserve so much better" you rested your head against his shoulder, squeezing his knee in comfort.

He brought a hand down to his knee and took hold of yours. You interlocked your fingers and squeezed, knowing how much JJ needed to feel you there with him.

"I have you, and that's all I need. Don't be so hard on yourself, it's not your fault" he whispered, kissing your forehead.

"Please let me take care of you. I'll talk to my parents and see if you can stay here for a while. They can even become your legal guardians until you turn 18. I know they'll do it, and you'll finally have a safe place that you could call home" the idea seemed so simple and easy for you, but it seemed like such a stretch to JJ.

"I can't ask you or your parents to do that, babe. Being a burden to your family is the last thing I want to do" he tried to reason with you, but you weren't having it.

"No, you listen to me. I am not letting you go back home, JJ. My parents love you and I know they are going to want to help you. Please don't push me away, let me help you" you were basically begging him at this point, but you didn't care.

Nobody deserved the life that he had, and you'll be damned if his father touched him one more time. You were going to do everything in your power to make sure he'd never received another punch or insult from his dad ever again.

"Okay" he finally whispered after a while, chewing on his bottom lip.

You let out a big sigh of relief you didn't know you were holding and wrapped him in your arms, silent tears falling down your face.

He buried his head in your neck, taking in your familiar scent and warm hold.

He finally felt like things could finally take a turn for the better. Like he would get a new chance at life.

All because of you.

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[byooregard]

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bluebabadee

THIS BLOG IS A SAFE SPACE FOR NON-HUMAN PASSING MUTANTS. HUMAN PASSING MUTANTS DNI

10 notes 📌Pinned Post

sparklejays Follow

based on your likes!

every time I see a human talking about "how cool it would be to have superpowers" or some shit like that I loose it a little bit more. do these people realize that being a mutant isn't just fun powers. like even beyond the shit I deal with trying to get jobs or all the relationships that have been ruined once people realized I'm a mutant. abilities aren't just fun and games, I have a friend who can't touch people without nearly killing them, I burned down three buildings before someone finally taught me to control my abilities, and these people are all like "wouldn't it be great to fly to work every day??" just admit that you see us as comic book characters and not real people with real struggles

#actually mutant #jay .txt

276 notes

scamperpamperblog reblogged spocktism

🏙️tilleys-brain Follow

self diagnosing is great and all but most of you people aren't telepaths, you're just hyperempathic

#actually mutant #actually telepathic #hyperempathy #crosstagging i know but some of yall need to see this #tilley speaks #it can be dangerous to go around acting like you know peopels actual thoughts when its just your brain

1,657 notes

oh-you-pretty-things

.

#vent post #sometimes I get really mad at magneto #like I think he's done a lot for mutant rights and stuff #but I'm so fucking tired of everyone assuming that I'm evil just because of my powers #like jesus not all of us are trying to start atomic wars #some metallokinetics just use their abilities to make cool sculptures #but I can't get a spoon from across the room in front of strangers without someone mentioning jfk

3 notes

mutantbuffy reblogged muntantpollscentral

🩻mutantpollscentral

*physical mutation meaning something that is ALWAYS physical, not just something you can turn off and on whenever

#ig my mutation IS technically physical its just not visible to people most of the time so i feel weird claiming that #but like i was born with the tattoo marks #the powers didnt come till later tho #so idk which to pick

668 notes

sploimsh reblogged jesterjuleses

🎹pussy-truck-faggot

HEY! shout-out to people with *weird* mutations. Mutations that don't look cool, mutations that are gross, mutations that are dirty, mutations that you can't tell people about because they always cringe. You're just as valid as every other mutant out there. Your powers don't need to be palettable to humans for you to be treated with respect.

#THIS!!! #rb

5,678 notes

rosetvler

god i am so tired of the hypocrisy in this community. the double standards are insane. its okay to have 'scary' powers but the moment someone's abilities are scarier than like, pyrokinesis you're evil and dangerous to be around. 'acceptance' for you people only means nice mutants who've never hurt or scared anyone ever.

rosetvler reblogged rosetvler

non-mutants can reblog this btw

#srb #actually mutant #getting real tired of this

18 notes

katiedidnt reblogged morelikesexmen

🩻magicsteele27 Follow

okay like. i get that were all about acceptance and pride or w/e but no one in this tag has ever had friends irl i swear. if someone asks you not to read their mind you shouldnt. honestly you shouldnt be using telepathy on people at all without their permission. mutant abilities dont disclude you from respecting peoples boundaries

🌌rosetvler Mutuals

i swear to god you people are such hypocrites. its all 'mutant and proud' until someone has a power you dont like. its always about keeping the humans feeling comfortable instead of thinking about how it feels to never use your powers because theyre breaking 'boundaries' that were made up by humans in the first place

🩻magicsteele27 Follow

dude do you hear yourself right now

🎆jade-the-pyromancer Follow

Hey, I like your point op, but maybe you should stop trying to speak over actual telepaths and let them decide how to use their powers themselves???

🩻magicsteele27 Follow

i. i am a telepath.

#duddeeee telepaths are insane #used to be friends with one SO glad i broke that off before it went too bad

15,678 notes

[spacebarbarianweird]

Snowstorm

Summary: As you stay together in a small inn, you accidently do something that triggers Astarion

Pairing: Astarion x f!Tav

Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, f!tav, established relationship, post-game, trauma talk

TW: a mild description of SA, a mention of rape

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

You want him.

Your body pulses with heat, and your veins course with adrenaline, the aftermath of the thrilling fight. Whether facing a dragon, a troll, or a devil, your muscles are taut, and the desire for more blood, debauchery, and victories fuels you. The longing for the fight to continue is undeniable, but nothing can hinder the path of your sword.

Yet, when the battle concludes, a different yearning takes hold. Your body desires something more personal, more natural, and at this moment, it craves Astarion.

A snowstorm blankets the surroundings with heavy flakes. You shiver in the cold. You get inside the inn, the only one along this part of the Long Road and go upstairs to the room you and Astarion have rented. It's the first time in months that both of you will sleep under a roof.

Astarion is there. Sitting on the floor with a book. 

It's something with beds, he once admitted to you. The only time I used to have a chance to sleep on them was when I was seducing someone. I slept on the floor at the mansion, often tied up or chained. Hard surfaces feel safer; I know it sounds odd. I-I will try to adjust to sleeping in beds. Cuddling with you is worth fighting another shadow from my past.

Astarion puts the book away, studying you. You see happiness in his eyes, absolute joy.  

"How was it, my sweet?" he asks. His voice is tender and caring.

"I wish there was one troll more," you pout. "I am ashamed even to ask the reward for such an easy kill."

"How dare they bother with you with boring tasks?" Astarion chuckles, finally standing up before you, opening his arms.

You are a weird couple. You effortlessly embrace your feminine side when you're in front of him, feeling like a beautiful, desired woman. To kiss him, you have to tiptoe a bit, and you revel in the sensation of sinking into his strong hands. Yet, you are the warrior, wielding a formidable two-handed axe. While you could easily lift Astarion (his elven bones being light and hollow), you refrain, knowing it annoys him.

You hang around his neck, nuzzling the collarbone. His arms press you tightly. "I should be upset with you for leaving me here," he teases, kissing your forehead.

"Just wanted to give you some personal space. Besides, that beast really took a toll on locals."

"Such a brave little thing, always thinking about the others. I still have a lot to teach you about selfishness."

You want to say something else but can't. You turn your eyes to the small window. The snowflakes are dancing in the winter wind, and you shiver. 

Astarion helps you remove the armor, and it falls to the floor with a loud thump. As his hand slips under your shirt, you realize he has desired the same thing you have.

You pull away a little and then lightly push Astarion onto the bed. He chuckles and lets you lead. You straddle him with your hips, feeling a hardening bulge between your thighs. You kiss him and then take his white shirt off. 

Astarion raises his elbows, anticipating your next action. You place your chilly palms on his chest, and although he would shiver if he were alive, the contrast between your usual temperature and that of someone who's just been outside in winter is barely perceptible to him.

You are burning hot, darling, he once told you. You are constantly burning like a campfire. No, more like… sunshine.

You tease his right nipple with your tongue and then lick the left one. Astarion groans, but you push him back on the pillow when he tries to sit down.

You don't notice that he stops looking at you and turns his face to the window. But you are already too aroused to pay attention.

You firmly grasp his wrists, using all your strength to pin Astarion to the bed, effectively restraining him. As he mumbles something, you silence him with a kiss, anticipating a response, hoping for a passionate reply that would make you lose yourself in the moment's intensity.

"Let me go," he mutters through clenched teeth when you part your lips from his.

"What?"

"Let me go!" he yells at you. His body is rigid; his fangs are bare, ready for an attack. You weaken your grip, Astarion frees his hands, and the next moment, you find yourself on the floor.

"A-astarion", you whisper. "What is wrong? Did I do something wrong?"

He is trembling; anger is mixed with fear and disgust. His mouth is half open, and his eyes wander as if looking for a hidden enemy. 

"Leave me alone- "his voice cracks as if he's been screaming too long. It seems he wants to say something else, but whatever fear gripping him is too intense.

He gets out of bed, snatches the shirt, and puts it on like light armor. 

What have you done; you think. You scroll through the memories, trying to figure out what has hurt him. Gripping his wrists? It's not like it could hurt him…

"Astarion, my love, » you stretch your left arm to him, but he recoils as if you are holding a razor to flay his skin.

"Go away. Go away!" he collapses on the floor, pressing legs to the chest.

There is no point in arguing; you will hurt him even more if you try to touch or console him. At this moment, you feel like your heart is pierced with a spear.

You leave the room and go downstairs.

The tavern on the first floor of the inn is empty. The snowstorm rages outside, threatening to bury the whole town.

Your heart and mind ache as you think about Astarion being alone with his fears and whatever nightmare you accidentally awoke. You are sure it was about hand gripping, and though it doesn't sound like something awful compared to what you usually do to each other, still - 

You should have asked.

You should have asked him, you stupid cunt.

Astarion is still healing his broken mind and soul, and even if you don't have to be extra careful around him anymore, it doesn't mean there is no trigger left.

But there is no point in returning right now. You know him. If you press any harder, Astarion will just run away. And who knows where he will go in such a snowstorm. 

You spend sleepless hours watching the snowflakes fall. The winds are howling like hungry wolves. Finally, you decide to come back – if Astarion still doesn't want to see you, you will just rent another room and sleep.

Because gods know you are tired. 

…Astarion lies on the floor on his back, eyes closed. There is no implication that he's tried to hurt himself (it has happened a few times before after enduring yet another nightmare), and you are happy that at least he is here.

"Hello, my sweet", he says, opening his eyes. There is no fear or disgust. It is only the exhaustion of a person fighting monsters within for too long.

"I just wanted to check on you. If you don’t want me here, I will go."

He sighs. "Sit with me," he finally says, and his voice removes the stone from your chest.

You can't help but notice he's rolled the sleeves down. "Tell me what I did wrong".

"You? Nothing. It was just a… coincidence. Something got into my mind, and…you know how it happens to me".

You feel the desire to hold him, to hug him. You haven't seen Astarion so vulnerable for ages, but you don't want to trigger him further.

"We both know it wasn't. Please, tell me. And I am sorry for making you feel whatever you felt."

He tilts his chin up, studying the wooden ceiling. 

"It just reminded me" he avoids looking at you. "One of my victims."

Oh no.

 "I don't know who she was. He usually gave me some time to hunt, to choose a victim. But that night, he wanted something soon, right away. He said he would carve another poem on me if I didn't bring him anything within hours."

Astarion makes a pause. "It was a very similar evening. The snowstorm. So cold even I felt it. No one was outside, so I just went straight to the nearest inn to pick up some unlucky victim. It’s not like I had many options in such weather. "

His gaze wanders the room as if he is ashamed to look at you.

"There was a woman. Some old prostitute, drunk and filthy. It wouldn't take me much to do the job, and I was in a hurry."

You recognize this emotion on his face. Utter disgust.

"Well, I didn't have to play any tricks on her. There was no point. She just dragged me to bed, stinking like a pile of dead rats. Ideally, I would prefer to forget all the intercourses I'd had before you. But if I had a choice to choose only a few to forget, this would be the first I would name."

"Did she do the same things I did?"

Astarion finally looks at you. A familiar light returns to his eyes. "Darling, there were so many things done to me and things I did to others. We would have nothing left to do in bed should I decide to avoid every detail about my past."

"But still?"

"Yes. She gripped my hands and pinned me to the bed. The prostitute was pretty strong, and I thought she would break my arms. Or something else. At least, I would not be surprised if it happened." 

It is not precisely that, you realize. Something after. 

"So," Astarion proceeds. "Since she thought I was her client, I needed to pay for the "unforgettable service." I said I would gladly give her extra gold, but we must go to my place, that rich mansion in the Upper City. And some people, relatives of mine, would want her services as well. She followed me despite the terrible weather. Things we do for money and sex, I guess."

Astarion is silent again. The light in his eyes is replaced by disgust again.

"For a moment, I actually thought he liked her. At least, her blood. He was pretty content in the process. I was standing about five feet away from them, watching life leave her body. And seeing the choice I had as usual."

"A filthy rat and a sharp razor," you mutter. 

He chuckles. "The rat wasn't really bad looking. Less filthy than the victim, that's for sure."

Astarion's shoulders start trembling.

"When he was done, he made me approach him. The moment I was in his arms' proximity, he started beating me. I don't know why. Because he didn't like the victim, because she was too drunk, because I did my job too bad or did it too good. But it was violent even to his standards."

The tears flow through his cheeks as if his body re-lives those moments of pain. You stretch your hand to show your intention but don't dare to touch Astarion. He looks at you but doesn't see.

"I don't remember how long it lasted. I started dissociating. It wasn't me. It wasn't my pain. Cazador beat me to the state where even vampiric regeneration needed time to repair the damage. And when I fell down on the floor, he –"

You know what he will say. You know what happened after.

"-he raped me"

The silence is unbearable. The only sound you can hear is muffled sobs. You feel like crying, too, but you get yourself together. That is the moment when he needs you, when it is you who is strong. Because he isn't. Because the monsters of the past have won.

"Astarion", you finally say. "May I touch you?"

He looks at you in horror, and you think he will either run away or snatch one of his daggers and slice his own skin.

"I don't know what was worse. That it was so painful because every fucking bone in my body was broken, that the other spawns saw it, that this dead woman was just near me. Or that after he'd finished, he ordered me to stay on that floor. I remember the window – it was a dark night, and the curtains were open. It was snowing." He points outside. "Snowing just like now."

Silence envelops you, drowned in a mixture of sorrow and rage. It feels like you've witnessed every horror that has befallen the man you love, only to discover that his mind harbors yet another layer of torment. The weight of it all is crushing. If it were within your power to end Cazador's existence a thousand times more, each demise would be crueler than the last.

Twenty-eight stabs by Astarion weren't enough for such a monster.

"My – My sweet, it wasn't you. I just heard his voice again in my head. As if he was still alive and that he gave an order not to move. Similar place, same weather, the grip." Astarion looks away. "I am sorry, it doesn't seem like… I will be able… for a while."

Now, there is shame in his voice, which breaks your heart for the second time.

"It's all right, Astarion. Take your time. Do you want me to touch you?"

"Not - not naked skin – please," he mutters. 

You finally hug him, and Astarion melts in your arms. 

"I am here, Astarion. You hear me? I am not going anywhere. I don't care about your past, about all these awful things. I am not scared. I am not disgusted", you say firmly. "Take all the time you need. Just let me know what you need.”

He finally relaxes enough to hold you again. "Did I hurt you?"

"No. Astarion, what can I do to make you feel better?"

"Can we just sit together?"

You sit on a bed, putting the pillow behind your back. Astarion sits between your lap, putting his head on your chest. You hug him as tight as possible, pressing him against you as you reach for the blanket.

"What are you doing?" he giggles.

"It's so cold I won't be able to warm you alone. Relax"

Astarion nods, and, in a moment, his whole body is covered by the warm blanket.

You start massaging his scalp, and he releases a sigh. 

"You are the best thing that happened to me," you whisper. "I love you. I will do anything to help you with your memories and your past. I am not ashamed, not disgusted. I knew what I was getting into when you told me the first details of your life. I am not with you for your looks. I am not with you for sex."

«That is still the most surprising because if you were for me for these two things, I could understand it.”

"Honestly, I really fall into your looks, don't get me wrong. Never seen anyone so beautiful in my life. But the more we traveled, the more I loved you.”

You kiss the crown of his head and are pleased to notice that he is no longer tense.

"Do it again, that – thing."

You kiss him, burying your face in his silver curls. "My beautiful elf, my love, my man, so strong, so beautiful, so resilient. Every spawn in that wretched place was broken in pieces. You were the only one who managed to preserve himself. Everyone was telling me you were a mess that would drag me to hell, but I saw such strength in you! You survived. You did the most unimaginable thing. You survived where anyone would die. Preserved your sanity where madness was the only remedy. And what you did back then, refusing to become the very monster, is the thing that makes me proud of you. Astarion, listen to me. You are everything. I want you. I need you. Your presence makes me happy."

He looks up at you and raises his hand to caress your cheek. His face is red with tears. He wants to say something, but words are drowning in cries. He covers his face again, and you start cradling him in your hands as if he was a little child.

Eventually the sobs subside, and Astarion finally relaxes. He turns his head toward the window, watching the falling snow.

"Do you want me to close the curtains?"

"No. I am making new memories."

"What?"

"The next time I see a blizzard outside the inn window, I want to remember at once how you held me, how I felt safe and loved. In time, I will be able to replace everything. "

He touches your knee cup below the blanket. "Tell me about that awful troll you murdered yesterday. With all the gore details."

You plant a kiss on his cheek. "Just don't complain you weren't there."

"Of course, I will complain. Had fun without me, how did you dare?" he laughs. "And what if this troll had hurt my darling girl without me by her side to protect her?"

"I thought I was the warrior in our relationship."

"You are the most amazing woman a man dares to get. So, forgive me for being protective."

You squeeze him in your hands. You feel like falling asleep, and the last thing that comes to your mind is how grateful you are for having Astarion in your life.

--

Tag List

@tragedybunny @caitlincat-95 @tallymonster @astarionsbeloved @lumienyx @fayeriess @aoirohi @elora-the-slutty-songstress @veillsar @astarion-imagine-archive @micropoe10 @starlight-ipomoea @herstxrgirl @theearthsfinalconfession

[holllandtrash]

6 to 1 | lando norris (part 12)

pairing: lando norris x leclerc!reader part 12 and final part to the 6 to 1 series (read part 1 here)

it's the first race you attend with Lando, the first time tensions are high before the race can even start, the first time your fears turn into reality because of course, it can never be easy. or can it?

word count: 6.5k tags/warning: mention of the 2022 hungarian grand prix, a lot of anxiety, alluding to driver!injury i think thats it

The end of July brought you to Budapest for the Hungarian Grand Prix. 

It was also the first time you attended a race weekend with the intention of showing up in the paddock with a driver other than Charles. 

You spent most of Friday and Saturday in the McLaren motorhome, but now it was the race. You weren’t going to hide behind the safety of the black and orange walls. You were going to be there, in the garage, to show your support for Lando. 

But you were not prepared for how extremely out of place you would feel.

You had never spent any time in any other team’s pit except for Pierre’s one time and even then it was because you lost a bet and had to wear Alpha Tauri merch for an entire weekend. You didn’t choose to be there.

You chose to show your support for Lando this weekend. 

He wanted you there, of course, but you also wanted to be there. 

You were standing in the booth at the rear of the garage when Lando approached you from the side, hand finding your back to give you a comforting touch before he reached for his balaclava. 

There were still a few minutes before the cars had to be wheeled out to their starting positions. Lando wasn’t in any hurry to get into the cockpit, nor did he like putting himself in a position where he felt rushed or uneasy.

You, on the other hand, felt uneasy. 

That wasn’t even the right word for it. You were stressed, anxious, paranoid, on edge, literally every single thing you shouldn’t be feeling before a race. 

Lando sensed it. Maybe it was the way you didn’t lean into his touch like you normally would. Or maybe he caught the way your smile was forced on his behalf, to make it seem like you were okay. Whatever it was, Lando knew you. In a very short period of time, he knew how to recognise what you were feeling.

“Talk to me,” he said quietly, discarding the white mask on top of the booth as he rested his arms on the surface. He clasped his hands together after dragging his fingers through his hair, but his worried eyes met yours. “You’re more scared about the race than I am.”

You were careful to keep your voice down. SkySports was standing just outside the garage with a camera and for some reason those mic’s picked up absolutely everything. 

“Scared’s not the word I would use,” you spoke through a heavy inhale. You wished Lando’s loving gaze was enough to calm your nerves, but he wasn’t the only driver on the grid who had an affect on your emotions.

Lando nodded, “Feels a bit odd not standing in the Ferrari garage, yeah?”

“It just feels wrong,” you admitted. And then your hand went to cover his, eyes going wide when you realised the strength of your words, “I do want to be here, really. It’s just weird, is all. Like I should be there to talk to Charles before he puts his helmet on and tell him good luck- not saying that it’s a pre race ritual but in a way, it sort of is?” You huffed out an exasperated breath, hoping that what you were saying was making sense. “I don’t know, I’m sorry. It’s just weird that I’m at a race and I’ve said two words to Charles. Hi and bye.”

Lando turned his hands over to connect them with yours, giving your fingers a squeeze. He glanced down at his balaclava and then up at the screen where F1TV was playing. When the image changed from a close up on Lewis to one of Charles standing in the back of the garage, in a nearly identical spot to where you stood in McLaren, you both noticed the way Charles’ normally calm demeanour was replaced with one that, again, was nearly identical to yours.

“You know, I never really thought you two looked alike,” Lando muttered, but in this moment you could have been twins. 

The agitation was clear on both of your faces. Eyes glossed over with guilt and uncertainty as neither of you knew what to say to the other but both finding your lack of presence in the garage to be way too noticeable and foreign for your own good.

Lando looked at you, nodding his head in the direction of the pit lane, “You should go there.”

“I want to be here,” you told him. You were certain about that. 

“You don’t need to stay there,” Lando reminded you. He took a quick look at the screen. “There’s still a few minutes before either of us have to get in the cars. I’m sure he’d appreciate you telling him good luck.”

That thought had crossed your mind, just stopping by and returning back to McLaren. But if you did that, how would Charles take it? Would he see it as a pity pop-in? Would he think that would be your version of an apology? Even though you had absolutely nothing to apologise for. You didn’t know what would go through his head, but you could count on him somehow turning it around and blaming your quick hello as the catalyst if he were to have a poor race.

Lando sensed your hesitation and instead of trying to convince you further to go and say something to your brother, he gave you the opportunity to look at it from a different perspective. 

“You know, maybe Charles is thinking the same thing?” He told you. “It’s probably just as weird for him knowing that you’re at the race but haven’t said anything. I’m not saying you have to apologise, you shouldn’t apologise, but-” he licked his lips, eyes darting up to the screen again. “If you’re the one who’s saying he shouldn’t bring his personal problems onto the track, don’t you think you should do the same?”

That thought hadn’t crossed your mind.

A sliver of a smile teased the corner of his lips. “You can be a supportive sister and still be mad at him. Just like you can be my girlfriend and his biggest fan. You’re not trapped in a box. None of us are.”

Your eyebrows raised, “Girlfriend? Did I miss-” you pointed at him and then around the general area. “-did I miss something? Did a grand gesture happen?”

Lando rolled his eyes, leaning forward to bump his elbow against your arm before he nodded towards the pit lane once more, “Go wish your brother good luck.”

You eventually gave in and nodded. Lando took the bright orange headset that rested around your neck and placed it on the booth, making sure to brush his thumb across your cheek as he did so. You agreed, no annoying acts of PDA in the paddock, but he couldn’t help but find any reason to touch you. 

“I’ll be right back,” you assured him and you grazed your hand across his back, another small but simple gesture to show that you also couldn’t keep your hands off him, before you used the rear doors to sneak out of the McLaren garage. 

There were anxious butterflies in your stomach when you pulled on the door handle to Ferrari. The same last-minute chaos was present in the garage like usual, but it didn’t take long for you to find Charles, standing next to his car, chatting with Xavi. 

Strangely enough, when he spotted you, it felt similarly wrong to be standing in that garage. Like you didn’t belong, and you had just experienced that same dilemma in McLaren. You hated that feeling, as though you didn’t belong anywhere. 

But Charles didn’t ignore you. He didn’t turn back to you and leave you with that sinking feeling in your chest. He excused himself from Xavi and walked towards you, fiddling with the racing gloves in his hands. 

“I just wanted to say good luck,” you blurted out, like ripping off a bandaid. You said it, now you could leave. And you started to, you stepped backwards, ready to head towards McLaren again. 

Charles stopped you.

“Thank you,” he nodded, smiling a little. “You’re ah- you’re at McLaren?”

It was your turn to nod, “Yeah it’s less chaotic over there, believe it or not. Not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.” When the end of your sentence flowed into soft laughter, Charles joined in, rubbing his lips to possibly try and hide that he found your words humorous.

You hated this, the awkward small talk with your own brother. 

His demeanour shifted, his shoulders tensed as he inhaled a sharp breath. Whatever was on his mind, whatever he wanted to say, he had been sitting on it for a while. Maybe since you left dinner so abruptly. 

And yes, you wanted to clear the air with your brother, but now was not the time to do it. Not when he was minutes away from climbing into the car. You both learned your lesson last time. 

“I’ll see you after the race,” You told him, preventing him from opening the door to a new conversation. This was the moment when you had to separate your brother from the driver and right now, he was a driver. 

Charles nodded as someone handed him his racing helmet. You wished him good luck once more and shared a smile before you made your way back to the McLaren garage, feeling much lighter now.

Lando noticed it, he noticed the lack of tension in your features as he reached for his helmet that was left on the booth. He gave you a thumbs up from across the garage and you reciprocated it before cupping your hand around your mouth and calling out a quick ‘good luck’ to him as well.

You were certainly feeling better going into the race, but it didn’t take long for the nerves to return.

As you watched the first few laps, you suddenly remembered why you gave yourself the no dating drivers rule. You were anxious enough as it was with your, somewhat, strained relationship with Charles, but as his sister, you still hoped for his success.

And now you were watching with caution every time Lando made a move as well. Everytime he locked up into a corner, every time he went in too deep, everytime his race was at risk. 

You didn’t like the constant back and forth, wanting to keep up with what both Lando and Charles were doing at the same time, holding your breath for each of them, feeling twice the amount of stress build up to the point where you thought you needed to vomit.

It didn’t help when at lap six, there had already been a yellow flag brought out due to a minor incident involving Yuki, but now you were watching the lap 12 replay of Nyck de Vries spinning out into the barrier. At first, you thought he’d be able to reverse and get himself to the pits but when the red flags were called due to the damage to the front portion of his car and all the drivers started to return to the pits, you felt even more anxious.

There would have to be a restart. 

Turn 1 at the Hungaroring stressed you out enough. You remembered the 2021 grand prix here when nearly six cars had to retire from an accident that took place at that first corner on the first lap. You thought that the drivers were all safe this time when no big moves were made and everyone made it through that corner without any damage.

Now they had to do it all over again. Elbows were going to be up this time, the drivers’ were undoubtedly going to make some risky, or dumb, moves. 

The red flag brought all of the drivers out of their respective cars. Lando sent you a thumbs up from across the garage, but that was about all he could give you at this given time. His attention went towards the mini impromptu briefing in regards to how to go about the last three quarters of this race.

You tried to tell yourself that, as horrible as Nyck’s red flag was, maybe it was the one incident this race would have. How likely was it that something else would occur? 

The twisting knot in your stomach told you not to get your hopes up.

You were watching the broadcast for a bit, trying to pass the time and not think about what could go wrong when you felt a hand on your waist. 

“Be careful,” you said, eyes filled with worry as you turned towards Lando. 

“Be careful?” he repeated with a chuckle, “It’s just a restart, everything’s fine. Car’s fine, I’m good, I just want to race.”

But you couldn’t explain it. Deep in your gut you just knew there was room for mistakes, that something was going to go wrong on this restart. These drivers were eager to get back in their cars and keep fighting and that’s when their margin of error grew. 

“Just be careful,” you repeated, pressing your palm to the side of his face, thumb brushing over the skin of his cheek. Lando knew better than to make a joke at this moment, seeing how paranoid you were and he just nodded before he was ultimately called away. 

That horrible gut feeling only grew when the drivers got back in their cars. You watched, holding your breath as they lined up in the starting positions, ready for the safety car to take them on a formulation lap.

When they were finally back on the grid, your heart was racing. Lando was starting from seventh. Charles in fourth. The red lights lit up one by one and then they were off. 

Max got off beautifully, even you could admit that, but that was maybe the only positive thing to take away from this restart. 

George nicked the back of Carlos’ car and sent him spinning. Lewis’ reaction time was fast and he avoided the Ferrari but he couldn’t avoid Checo who had locked up ahead of him right before turn one. Somehow, in this chaos, Lando managed to swerve to the side and narrowly miss the collisions. 

The same couldn’t be said for Charles. 

There wasn’t much he could do when the unfortunate series of events caused Checo to spin and block Charles’ Ferrari, colliding into the red side pod and sending car number 16 into the air before ultimately flipping upside down onto the gravel.

You watched with that painful, sinking feeling as Charles slid into the barriers. Very reminiscent of Zhou’s crash in Silverstone the previous year, but now it was your brother who found himself in this situation. Upside down in the cockpit.

And you had no idea if he was okay. 

It wasn’t like you were wearing one of the Ferrari headsets and could listen to Xavi’s radio message, asking Charles to confirm he was okay. You were standing in the McLaren garage, hand over your mouth and had to wait like everyone else. 

This was the moment you were referring to that night in Montreal. The moment when your world stopped.

You had to grip onto the booth, feeling your legs start to weaken beneath you. You just needed to know he was okay. For the love of god why hadn’t they broadcasted anything yet? Why hadn’t they announced he was fine? Why haven’t the marshals pulled him out of the car? Why wasn’t Charles climbing out of the seat?

These were the slowest seconds of your life. 

Your lungs were failing you. Your heart was pounding out of your chest. Your eyes were glued to the screen and all you wanted was to scream for someone to tell you that he was fucking fine. 

As you watched the broadcast, a close up on your face appeared in a square on the side of the screen. You had no idea you were crying, or that there was even a camera on you until Jolyon Palmer’s fucking voice pointed it out.

“...Leclerc’s sister watches on like the rest of us from the McLaren garage- oh and it appears one of the McLarens is also in the gravel, is that Lando’s car? I believe it is, but he’s not- he avoided the collision, didn’t he-”

Alex Jacques interjected, “He’s getting out of the car! Lando Norris is sprinting across the gravel towards the Ferrari of Charles Leclerc-”

His voice became background noise as you watched the scene unfold. Lando, who got away relatively fine with very little or possibly no damage, could have continued the race but he had gotten out of his McLaren and was now bent down next to the open cockpit of Charles’ car. 

Lando lifted his head, waving the marshals over who had taken way too long to show up, in your opinion. Or maybe you just felt as though they were moving slowly because everything else was. 

You saw Lando reach in and pull the steering wheel from the car and then finally, the black glove belonging to Charles grabbed onto Lando’s hand, needing his assistance to be pulled out from behind the halo. 

There was a collective sigh of relief from the entire McLaren garage, probably from the entire paddock honestly. Even as the marshals showed up, Lando refused to step aside. Even when Charles stood up, Lando kept his hand on the Ferrari driver's back and used his other hand to point to the safety car that was pulling up. 

Charles pulled his helmet off, even though he was most definitely advised to keep it on for the time being. As the camera focused on his features, it was impossible to miss how shaken up he was from that crash. He wasn’t angry that everything out of his control caused him to retire from the race, he was scared. 

His life flashed before his eyes, you couldn’t blame him.

He said something to Lando, nodding his head slightly and the tension lines in his forehead seemed to reside, just for a moment. 

Lando patted his shoulder, happy to see that a fellow driver was walking away from this incident with minor injuries. He’d have to retire, they both would. The second that Lando made the decision to get out of the car, he forfeited his race. It was one of the rules brought on by the FIA, one that didn’t even cross his mind. 

All he cared about was making sure Charles was okay.

Lando didn’t need to join Charles in the safety car, but he did and Charles was probably thankful for it, that a familiar face would be with him as he was being transported to the medical centre. 

You ditched the orange headset and sprinted out of the garage. The medical centre was just on the other side of the garages and you were certain you looked a little insane as you ran as though you were competing in a marathon, but you didn’t care. 

There was security outside the medical centre, of course there was. The drivers needed their privacy as they were being checked over, but you didn’t expect to be denied entry. Charles was your brother. 

“Oh come on,” you scoffed, sounding a bit frantic as you gestured to the doors. “He’s my brother! I need to make sure he’s okay, that he’s-”

And then the door opened from the inside and a very dishevelled Lando, still in his drivers suit, was standing there. He had heard you, it was impossible to not hear you with the way you were making a scene. He told the guard you were fine to come in and reluctantly, he stepped aside.

As thankful as you were that Lando was there to vouch for you, your attention was solely on Charles. You didn’t take a second to thank Lando for getting out of the car, you barely even acknowledged him as you ran down the hall to the examining room.

Before you could open the door you took a peek through the small window and saw him sitting on the edge of the examining bed. He was given the chance to change out of his drivers suit and opted for a baggy Puma shirt and sweats. He sat still as the doctor checked him over, answering the questions with head nods or quiet ‘no’s’.

You told yourself you had to be patient. The last thing he or the doctor needed was you barging in. 

You leaned against the wall and forced yourself to slow down, to really process what hell just happened in such a short amount of time. Raising your hand to your cheeks, you finally wiped away the last bit of tears that had been stuck in the corner of your eyes.

“He’s okay.”

Looking down the hall you saw Lando making his way towards you. His intention was to give you a few minutes alone with Charles before joining you, but when you didn’t go inside the room and instead slumped yourself against the wall, Lando couldn’t just leave you.

Lando reached for your hand and gently tugged you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your body.

It was comforting and it was what you needed right now.

“He’s okay,” Lando repeated, hand moving to stroke your hair. “Everyone’s okay, he’s a little shaken up but he’ll be fine.”

Lando pulled back slightly and took hold of your jaw, titling your face up. He brushed his thumbs under your puffy eyes, forcing himself to smile in assurance despite knowing how traumatising this was, not just for Charles but for your entire family. 

Speaking of family, Arthur was the next Leclerc to run into the medical centre. Having been here this weekend as well for F2, he had seen it all as well. Not from the garage, he wasn’t there during the actual race, but he was still in the paddock and experienced the exact same feelings you had. 

Lando stepped aside, letting you embrace your brother, both of you taking comfort in knowing that Charles was going to be fine. 

“As-tu parlé à maman? Enzo?” Have you spoken to mom? Enzo? You asked, slowly feeling your trembling body start to settle itself. Enzo was somewhere in the paddock as well, usually he watched from the Ferrari garage but he was nowhere to be found now. 

Arthur glanced at Lando and then at you, “Enzo’s on the phone with maman. When he knew Charles was safe, he called her.”

“Good,” you nodded. Enzo was probably the best option to calm your mother down and assure her everything was fine. You were still struggling to come to your senses and Arthur seemed to be about as loss for words as you were. 

When the doctor stepped out of the room, she wasn’t at all surprised to see a whole family affair happening outside the doors. She simply told you he was all clear but needed to stay in the bed for the remainder of the afternoon just to monitor his symptoms.

All you needed was the go-ahead to see him and once you were given a thumbs up, you pushed past the doctor to tackle Charles back onto the hospital bed he was trying to sit up in. Arthur joined as well, arms going around both of your bodies as Charles patted you both, or at least tried to with his restricted movements. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Charles told you through a chuckle, “Je le promets, je vais bien.” I promise, I’m fine. 

“It was terrifying, mate,” Arthur said on your behalf when you both stepped back to give Charles some space to breathe. “Upside down across the gravel-” he shook his head, “You’re lucky, is what you are.”

Charles nodded, there was no denying how grateful he should be, being able to walk away with very minor injuries. 

“My radio disconnected, I tried letting Xavi know I was okay but nothing was going through.”

God maybe it was better you didn’t have a Ferrari headset on. If you had to listen to Xavi calling to Charles asking for a response and not getting anything back, you probably would have ran out to the track yourself. 

“Did the race start again? Who's still in?” Charles asked, of course he was concerned about the race. 

Neither you nor Arthur had an answer though.

“All I know is George somehow caused five drivers to retire, including himself,” Arthur said, and then he counted on his fingers. “You, him, Carlos, Lewis and Checo.”

“And Lando,” Charles added without missing a beat. His eyes went directly to you. You hadn’t said a word since you entered the room, but what was there to say? 

This was your biggest fear and it could have gone so much worse. You were too dumbfounded to hear that Charles was going to be walking away after this to even think about anything else.

And that included Lando. 

“Lando’s car is fine,” Arthur pointed out.

“FIA rules,” you said with a swallow. “If you get out of the car-"

"-you abandon your race," Charles finished, a sliver of guilt crossed his face. He didn’t ask for Lando to help him, nor was Lando even slightly involved. He took it upon himself to check on the Monegasque driver. 

“Is he out there?” Charles asked, glancing at the door.

Truthfully, you didn’t know if Lando had stayed. It wouldn’t have surprised you if he went back to the McLaren garage. But when you opened the door and saw him sitting out in the hall, foot tapping against the floor, you put your hand on his shoulder and encouraged him with a nod to follow you into Charles’ room.

Lando kept his hand connected with yours, or maybe you refused to release the grip you had on his fingers, but his attention went to Charles.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Lando said what everyone else had been thinking this whole time.

Charles could have nodded in response. He could have said ‘same’ or ‘thanks’ anything, really. One word would have sufficed. 

But Charles looked at Lando and asked, “Why’d you get out of your car?”

The question wasn’t malicious. He wasn’t by any means upset that Lando did what he did. It was more personal curiosity, why would another driver sacrifice his own race? Why would Lando, someone who could have continued on and had a pretty successful race following the multiple retirements, stop his car and climb out?

“I think the better question is, why didn’t anyone else?” Lando answered, squeezing your hand. “Yes, we’re drivers but at the end of the day we’re just people. If I had crashed like that and no one came to check on me, I’d question the integrity of the grid.” 

Lando looked at you and then looked between the Leclerc brothers. All of you were wondering the same thing.

Would Charles have stopped for Lando if the situation was reversed? 

You prayed they would never find themselves in that situation again, but it was a question you would all be thinking about. Charles, especially. 

Lando didn’t stop for your sake. Sure, you were most definitely on his mind when he saw the way Charles’ flipped onto the gravel, but his thought process was not ‘I need to check on him because I’m dating his sister.’ Lando, in the goodness of his own heart, knew what needed to be done. He knew how terrifying it would be for Charles to hang upside in the cockpit, alone, probably anticipating impact from another car. 

Lando didn’t care about the race. He cared about Charles. Just like he cared about you and Oscar and Carlos and every single person he ever interacted with, had even the briefest relationship with. Lando was a good guy. 

He didn’t need to prove that to anyone, but he did. 

And Charles finally saw that. He could separate the driver from his friend. He could see Lando as a rival on the track and at the end of the day, still respect him as the person you chose to go home to.

“I really am glad you’re okay,” Lando said, a smile curling up on his lips. “I should get back to McLaren though- let me know if you need anything? I’m sure we both have to fill out incident reports or some shit.”

They exchanged a laugh and Lando leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead before retreating out of the room. All of you waited until he was definitely out of earshot before Arthur was the one to break the silence, letting out the most exasperating breath ever as he gestured towards where Lando just stood.

“Are you still on your high horse or do you finally give them your blessing?” Arthur asked, earning a smile from you in response. 

Charles licked his lips, rolling his eyes in a very similar fashion to how you would, “They don’t need my blessing. They would have dated regardless.”

You nodded, agreeing with everything he had just said. Charles would not have been the one to separate you two. 

But it would certainly be nice to know he approved. It would be easier to breathe the next time you thought about inviting Lando to a family dinner. You didn’t want to have to fight with yourself when it came to choosing what garage to stand in during a race. You didn’t want there to be sides anymore.

As you stood there, waiting for Charles to say something that hinted towards him not having a problem with your relationship, it hit you that Charles was more stubborn than you gave him credit for. He would probably never give a verbal approval.

But his stare told a different story. The way he glanced at the door behind you. The realisation in his eyes when he thought about the way you leaned into Lando’s touch before he left the room. The look Charles gave you told you that he could see how happy that McLaren driver made you, that he knew there was no point in fighting it.

So he didn’t have to say anything, you knew. 

You stayed in that room for the rest of the afternoon, even though Arthur did tell you that it wouldn’t be the end of the world if you went and found Lando. Charles didn’t even tense up when he suggested it. 

But you stayed seated next to Charles’ bed, Arthur on his other side as you watched the race restart for the third time. Enzo joined you not long after and he sat down next to you, nudging your side and asking where Lando was, as if it was odd that he wasn’t there.

“I’ll find him later,” you said, but later would turn out to be way after the race when you finally made it back to the hotel. 

Lando had texted you just before the race ending, asking if you were getting a ride back to the hotel with your brother. He also checked in on Charles, making sure he was still, in his words, ‘alive and nowhere closer to the drivers championship’. Charles rolled his eyes when he read that text over your shoulder.

Lando knew how important family was to you, even during the uncertain times. That’s why he wasn’t upset in the slightest that you spent the rest of the race with your brothers. He could separate you, the girl he was waiting to call his girlfriend, from the girl whose brother was a Formula 1 driver.

He knew what he was getting into when he looked at you differently all those weeks ago, he knew he’d have to share you, that this would only make all three of your lives a little more chaotic, but he still looked at you.

And god was he glad he did. 

You returned to the hotel and told Charles to call you if you needed anything before heading up the elevator to the room you and Lando were sharing for the weekend. As you looked into your purse to find your room key, something on the carpeted hotel floor caught your eye.

A white flower petal. Just one. 

And then another just a few feet ahead.

And then a dozen more that you didn’t pick them up, but you followed the wavy line of them all the way to the door to your suite, which had been propped open by a deadbolt lock preventing the door from shutting all the way.

You pushed it open only to see full daisies attached to their stems on the floor this time, also in a line that you followed down the hall and around the corner. You were starting to imagine what was waiting for you behind the bedroom door, but never in your wildest dreams would you have pictured this.

Lando standing at the edge of a bed, not in one of his own Quadrant t-shirts for a change but a form fitting black button down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and just enough of his chest showing that you had to remind yourself there was more to look at. 

On top of the bed was a box of pizza, but it was flipped open and it was mouthwatering. It wasn’t some random box he picked up at a shop on the way back to the hotel, this gourmet pizza looked like it cost a pretty penny. 

On the side table were two glasses, wine glasses of course, but next to an unopened bottle of Perrier because Lando didn’t drink wine but you both had no complaints about sparkling water. 

Most importantly, in his hand was a bouquet of daisies, beautifully wrapped in brown paper. 

And it finally clicked.

“I thought I’d redo our first date,” Lando said quietly as you walked towards him.

The pizza, the flowers, the sparkling water. Everything that was in attendance that first night he came to your place, unannounced and unwelcome but somehow it ended up being the most beautiful start of these whirlwind couple of months. 

“That wasn’t a date,” you teased as Lando handed you the bouquet. 

“Agree to disagree,” same words too. 

Lando snaked his arm around your back, hand spread across the thin fabric of your shirt as he pulled you against his chest. You draped an arm over his shoulders, careful not to drop the flowers as two very similar smirks grew on both of your faces. 

Lando stopped himself from kissing you, instead letting his lips hover over yours as he quieted his voice, “Do I really have to ask?”

“Yes.”

He squinted, something he did when his smile grew. You loved the lines around his eyes, the creases in his forehead when he was undeniably happy. It meant so much more knowing you were the reason for his bright features.

Lando took a breath before your first and last name passed through his lips. His hand moved further up your back and even though you knew what was happening, your heart was still racing, in the way you wanted it to this time. 

“Will you-” he paused, rolling his eyes at how naive this all sounded, but he carried on because he knew it was what you wanted. “Will you, please, be my girlfriend?”

Your eyebrows twitched, “Oh, you’re begging?”

Lando turned his head, “Okay, you know what, I take it back-”

Before he could finish the rest of that sentence you cupped the side of his face and pulled his lips to yours. Lando’s grip on your back pulled you tighter against his body as the daisies slipped from your hand and onto the edge of the bed. 

“Of course I’ll be your girlfriend,” you muttered against his lips, kissing him quickly once more. 

Lando was blushing at your response, but his grin shifted into yet another smirk. One with an ulterior motive, one that had you slightly cautious.

“Would now be a bad time to tell you I only checked on Charles because I knew it would move me up your driver ranking?”

You pulled back and stared up at him, jaw slack as he held his hand over his stomach and laughed at his own words.

“I’m kidding!” He assured you, blurting that out before you could really question his motives. “I promise, I’m kidding. I really did want to make sure he was okay."

“Well now I don’t believe you,” you scoffed, but you only said it to get under his skin in response. 

You could tell when Lando was being honest and you could tell when he was simply making a joke. Granted, maybe now was not an ideal time to make a joke, but him being able to make you smile, even a little bit, after witnessing something as traumatic as Charles’ crash, was what you needed. 

Lando being there to support you, to be the shoulder you needed, to be someone who only had your well being, and apparently your brothers’ wellbeing, in mind, was all you ever needed. 

“I don’t think you’ll ever surpass my own brother on the ranking,” you admitted with a sly grin as he twisted a strand of your hair around your finger, tilting your face upwards again as he listened to your final ranking. There was some truth to it. Charles would always be up there, but there were never any rules against ties. “But you can share the number on spot with him.”

Lando licked his lips, “What about number one in your heart?”

Your head dipped forehead against his chest as you laughed at his words, more specifically how quick he was to get them out, like he was waiting for a reason to use that line.

“That was so cheesy,” you said, still laughing. “Like, horribly cheesy. I-should-walk-out-of-this-room kind of cheesy.”

And you pretended to, taking a step towards the door, careful of the daisies at your feet. But Lando didn’t let you go anywhere. His grip on your hand tightened and he pulled you back to him, where you both knew you belonged.

“You loved it,” he teased, his smile only growing at your eye roll. 

“I did,” you admitted quietly with a reluctant sight. “I loved it.” You took a breath, looking at the set up he had created in your absence. “I love this, I love-” and then your eyes darted up to meet his again. 

Lando Norris. The driver turned friend turned something more. In such a short period of time, he became one of the most important people in your life. His teasing, his jokes, his stupid driver ranking plan. 

He was someone, that from day one, you should have known you were going to fall in love with. Since the day he decided to make it his mission to move up your list of favourite drivers.

But it was okay that you weren’t there yet, that you looked up at him and choked on that endearing phrase, shutting your mouth instead. Saying those three words took time, trust, effort. This was still so new.

Besides, after working his way up from sixth to, a tied, first, Lando needed a new mission now anyway. 

And getting you to fall in love with him seemed like the perfect one.

-----

six months later

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, ynleclerc and 576,102 others

tagged: ynleclerc

landnorris happy 6 months to the girl who once said i was her sixth favourite driver

view all 16, 530 comments

ynleclerc i love u

charles_leclerc don't get too cocky mate you can easily drop back down the ranking

carlossainz55 remember when i was her second favourite?

pierregasly why is this the first i'm hearing about a driver ranking

ynleclerc because you were booted to last place landonorris just like the driver standings pierregasly 🖕🏼🖕🏼

danielricciardo i approve of this relationship

the end :')

thank u everyone for the support while this intended 6 part series turned in 12 parts ♡ i hope u all fell a little bit in love w lando norris bc i sure did - also make sure to check out my other work here (ps i cant wait to start a new fic hehe)

taglist: @moneymasnn@thotd-f1@masonspulisic @mcmuppet@f1-futurewag-16-3-4-63 @alilstressyandlotdepressy @themisric @happydazzz123 @moonxblossom @norrisleclercf1@scarlettisconfused@sbgal@e-lisa-bettan@harrysdimple05@ophcelia@alesainz@fandomxs1@majx00@sbgal@mehrmonga@themockingjayreader@f1mockingjay@topguncultleader@lclrnelliluvs@moonxblossom@dr3lover@andrewgarfields-girlfriend@tsarinablogs@noescapricho-essentimiento@f1mockingjay@xqueenslytherinxif i missed someone im so sorry

[earthtooz]

x : PUNCH TO THE HEART ! :*+ﾟ

in which: rin shows up at your place at 2:35 am, desperate for some first aid and your love.

warnings: BOXER!RIN AU, 2.2k wc, gn!reader, mentions of blood, HURT/COMFORT, reader patches rin up, ooc!rin possibly but this is my fantasy and you all are living in it!, ambiguous relationship; u can perceive it however u like :>, unedited, a lot of intimacy, one suggestive line.

a/n: this wasn't meant to happen, but there were quite a few people who wanted this to happen. i will be tagging the accounts, and you should all thank @limitlesshq for making this happen. i'm gonna go eat my laptop now bc i want this man so badly.

it’s 2:35am when you hear the furious rasping of knuckles on your door.

you’re a little terrified, rooted to where you were currently standing in the kitchen when you hear the intrusive noise. on the journey to retrieve a glass of water, you really were not expecting an unknown assailant to disrupt this methodical routine of yours.

willing yourself to move, you approach the door as carefully as possible, holding your breath whilst you peer into the peephole. the sight you’re greeted with causes you to stumble a little, face scrunching into an unpleasant expression as you lean on the door for a bit more stability. 

when you open the door, you don’t know who looks more shocked to see the other.

“rin?” you greet after a brief moment of silence, his teal eyes cutting into yours.

his eyebrows furrow, the shock melting away from his face. “did i wake you?”

“no, i was- uh, doing my work.”

“at 2:30? you should be getting some sleep-”

“can we not talk about my bad habits right now? not whilst you’re looking like…” you gesture to his face, “this.” 

there’s streaks of blood on his face, his hair sticks to his forehead due to sweat, he has a bust lip along with a few other cuts scattered along his skin and the drowsiness in his eyes is making you feel fatigued too. 

but there’s a part of you that twists in discomfort just thinking about what he’s been up to tonight, where he’d been tonight. the bulge in the pockets of his jacket confirm your thoughts and you wonder how much cash he could’ve racked up tonight to look this disastrous.

rin frequenting boxing matches as a fighter for a little extra cash was something you learnt about him ages ago, but ever since knowing it, you don’t recall him being beat up too badly. something about ‘being too good for lukewarm dipshits’. 

rin rolls his eyes. “i’m coming in.”

he pushes open the door a little further to accommodate his frame before stepping through as if this were his home, causing you to stare after him in bewilderment. where was this attitude coming from? why was he acting so weird tonight?

slowly, you shut the door and lock it, turning around to confront rin who now sits on the edge of the couch, forearms resting on his legs as he sighs heavily. walking over to his pitiful figure, you stop a few feet short.

“is something wrong?” you ask, voice practically a whisper as to avoid shattering whatever fragile state rin was in right now. 

“‘m just really tired. nasty fight tonight.”

you don’t say anything, not wanting to force rin to open up. instead, you take a hesitant step forward to card a hand through his messy hair and the sound that leaves him is close to a groan of relief. it hurts, really, rin’s double life stresses you out to the point that it causes physical aches in your chest simply thinking about what he has to go through. he says it’s a nice stress relief and the money doesn’t hurt, but because he ‘enjoys’ the activity, he never knows how to stop.

his hand weakly reaches out to grab at you, pulling you closer once they close around your waist, allowing him to lean against your stomach. the dark-haired soaks up whatever affection you give him and with each stroke of your hands through his hair, he leans himself further into you, using you as a crutch, a lifeline, a safe haven. 

when you step away a little to take a look at his injuries, you don’t miss the way his hands clench onto your shirt, holding on to the fabric with a vice grip as he stares up at you.

“where are you going?” he asks, voice ragged.

“nowhere, why?” you answer. rin’s grip lets up a little, but he pulls you into him effortlessly, causing you to grab onto his shoulders for stability.

“i don’t want you to go. need to be with you tonight. need to be with you all the time.”

the way your heart flips over and over again in your chest should be illegal because you feel like you’re about to be sent into cardiac arrest. rin is most beautiful when vulnerable, you think, and as concerning as your confession may sound, you mean it well. he bears his shield and sword, wields them so well that he forgets to drop them sometimes, that there is so much more to see when your view isn’t obscured by self-reliance and independence.

your hands travel upwards to cup his cheeks and he sighs, closing his eyes to relax against you.

“i’m not leaving, i just wanted to check out your injuries. speaking of which, you really need to wash up. let me take care of your wounds.” 

“they’re fine. i got some first aid already.”

“then why didn’t they wash the blood off your face?”

“i left before they could. wanted to see you.” 

“you’re so bothersome,” you scold with a small smile, patting his cheek affectionately. “i’m tired too, i want to go to bed so it’s either you wash up or i’m leaving you on the street.” 

with a grunt, rin stands up, surrendering to your pleads as he lets you drag him in the direction of your bathroom. “go shower. i’ll take dress your wounds afterwards,” you command, dropping a spare towel in his arms.

the dark-haired glances up at you with an amused look in his eyes. “not gonna join me?”

“you belong on the streets, don’t make me actually throw you out.”

he rolls his eyes. “aye aye captain.”

closing the door behind you, you dutifully retreat to your room where you had last left your laptop running with the document of the assessment you had to complete by the end of the week. killing time by working a little more wouldn’t hurt anyone, you think, before opening another tab, music still softly playing from your laptop speakers to set the ambient mood.

“what do you think you’re doing?”

a stern voice disrupts your train of thought, the sound of furious typing on keyboard suddenly halting when you see itoshi rin in your doorway, dripping water from his hair with nothing but a towel to cover his body, chest on display for your viewing pleasure.

not that you indulge him.

you breathe out roughly, rubbing your face. “oh good, you’re done. c’mon.”

standing up from where you were working, rin doesn’t let you walk too far out of your room, using a toned arm to stop you as it winds around your torso, bringing you to him effortlessly. you feel the post-shower warmth from his chest radiate off him, almost lulling you to sleep with how heavy your eyelids feel.

“you’re not overworking yourself again, are you?” the dark-haired asks quietly, his hand now tracing circles at your hip from where it snuck underneath your clothes.

the yawn that escapes you gives you the only answer he needs. “it’s just tonight, i promise.”

“you say that all the time. you need to take care of yourself, y/n. these habits aren’t healthy.”

“i know, i know. rich coming from you,” you mutter. “can we talk about this another time? i’d really like to clean you up and get to bed as soon as possible.”

you feel him nod from behind and soon enough, the grasp he had around you loosens, allowing you to step away and guide him to the bathroom. there, you sit him down on the toilet seat and furrow through your cabinets for the first kid, grabbing some antiseptic, cotton pads, and a variety of bandaids. 

the remaining mist from his shower lingers in your bathroom and the smell of your products remain heavy in the air- heavy on rin too.

the whole process you spend it in silence, letting the tension accumulate on its own as you brush away still damp spots with a dry cloth and squeeze some antiseptic onto his wounds before placing some bandaids over some of them. he’s not very reactive throughout the process, but his indicators of pain flash across his expression from time to time, even if just for a second. especially prominent when you dealt with his bust lips.

your heart aches.

when pressing the last dressing onto a cut on his cheek, you instinctively bend down to place a lingering kiss over it, as if the one action will communicate all the concern and affection you held for him.

as if the love you feel for him will be branded onto his skin.

it’s with an air of reluctance and melancholy that you pull away from him, not meeting rin’s eyes as you go to put the supplies back in the cabinet and wash your hands. 

you easily preempt the two arms that wind around you and the familiar chest that presses itself to your back once again. it seems to be rin’s favourite position, especially with how liberally he rests his chin on your shoulder, staring at your reflection, waiting for you to look back at him.

you don’t cave. otherwise you might break.

“talk to me,” he whispers next to your ear, tightening his embrace ever so slightly.

the silence is deafening, especially to rin who grows more and more concerned over it.

“y/n.”

“i don’t like it when you show up like this,” you confess in an exhale, reaching for a towel to dry your hands with. “it hurts seeing you hurt with blood all over your face, all bruised.”

now it’s his turn to be silent. you finally bring your head up to look in the mirror but the sight only makes you realise how much of a mess you look. your hair is ruffled, your eyes are drooping, and you look a little crazed. 

yet rin looks at you like you are some iridescent, all-knowing being. like you weave the strings to his life. like you command the outcome of his life. the twisted part is that he would. he would allow you to do all of the above, because “you’re the only place i can go.”

what he means to say is that you’re the only place he wants to go, but the confession causes a hiccup (something that resembled a quiet sob) to escape your throat. rin holds you tighter to him, pressing several kisses on your neck, trying to distract himself from your grief because otherwise he thinks he’d crack too. 

“rin.” one quiet syllable of his name causes him to stop and look back up at you, those usually indifferent, cerulean eyes containing so much intention and devotion. 

he loves you, he realises. 

“i’m glad you trust me and i trust you too, but seeing you hurt and broken down hurts me too.” 

you love him back, he realises.

“you talk all the time about taking care of myself, but what about you? you can’t expect people to do the things you can’t, rin.” you’re not looking at him again; it kills him. “i know i can’t stop you from going out every so often, i don’t have a place to tell you what to do- am i making sense right now?”

he gives your waist a squeeze. “you are. you’re right, i’m sorry for making you feel this way-”

“you don’t have anything to be sorry about. this is all just in my head, i’m sorry, i just need to sleep the day off and then-”

“-stop invalidating yourself. you’re right.”

“i don’t mean what i say from a ‘you’re bothering me’ kind of way, i don’t mind it when you come to me for help- i’m more than happy to! it’s just… i’m not as strong willed as i like to be sometimes.”

you turn around in his grasp and he presses you into the ceramic of the bathroom counter, rubbing comforting circles into your skin. “i know, i know,” he repeats. “it’s okay. thank you for being here, that’s enough for me. you make my nights so much easier, don’t you know?”

his forehead rests against yours.

“best part is being able to know that once everything is over, you can be there to make life so much better.”

with a shaky exhale, you begin laughing. “what if i’m actually asleep though and don’t wake up to answer the door?”

“i thought you were going to be asleep tonight.” 

“then why did you come?”

“i didn’t mean for you to answer. i just wanted to be near you.”

the weight of his confession is hefty, but calms the ponderous storm of your mind nevertheless. you laugh even harder. rin’s ears turn bright red. at least you’re smiling again. he would fight in countless matches and get several punches to the jaw if it meant he could see you all happy and radiant in his arms. 

you retreat out of the bathroom to find appropriate clothes for him to wear so he can be in something other than a towel. 

then soon enough, you’re both curled up under your covers with rin holding you to him in a vice grip. when he’s sure that you’re fast asleep, he breathes a quiet, but meaningful ‘i love you’ into your skin, branding you in return before succumbing to unconsciousness with all he could ever want in his arms.

[marvelouslizzie]

just let me make you feel better

summary: after a long day of work, you finally come back home and rest. your period is making your day miserable but your boyfriend is here to help you.

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader 

word count: 3.2k

warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, period comfort, established relationship, pet names, mentions of menstruation pain, a little bit of period stigma, comfort offering, sexual activity during the period, nipple play, clit play, fingering, after care, obviously blood, unrealistic portrayal of male partners, no mention of y/n.

a/n: I just wanted to write a Bucky Barnes offers to comfort you during your period story so here we are. Unfortunately, this kind of care is really rare so I’m sorry for fucking up your expectations about men. Most of them don’t even do the bare minimum. This concept would shock them but don’t settle for anything less.

Thank you @notafunkiller and @es1dit for beta-reading and helping me better this story. Love you both!

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission. 

Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message me or send me a question regarding the stories I write. I would love to talk about it and no, it would never bother me.

Read more tag starts after the first paragraph of the story.

God, you can’t wait for this day to be over. It’s not the worst day of your life, you know it, but still, the freaking pain just doesn’t want to go away. At least, not completely. It finds different ways to crawl back to you and keep you suffering.

You tried a lot of stuff, starting with good old painkillers. There’s no denying that the pill is helping you, but it’s just not good enough. Your back is hurting, joints are feeling sore and there’s still a headache on the back of your head that no matter how many painkillers you take, keeps lingering and torturing you. Like bleeding isn’t enough.

Yeah, being on your period and working at the same time is no fun. It’s not even bearable. Still, you make it through the day and come back just to drop on the couch. You really want to get rid of these clothes, take a hot shower and change into something comfortable, but you just don’t have the energy. Mentally, you are already doing all this stuff, imagining how good it would feel to stand under the hot water and just let it relax your muscles. Yet your legs don't want to move. You just lay on the couch like a bag of potatoes.

As you drift between sleep and being awake, you hear the keys jingling, signaling that your boyfriend is home. Is it weird that you can already smell him while he’s standing across the room? You have no idea but you can. It just feels like something…  familiar. You have no idea how it works, but it makes you feel safe even though he did nothing but step into the apartment.

“Darling?” Bucky calls out because he isn’t used to not being greeted by you when he comes home. Usually, you are either going toward him or yelling “Welcome home, baby” from wherever you are.

You can’t find the strength to call out so you groan a little while raising your hand. God, his expression changes so quickly. He walks towards you at a trot.

“Are you alright?”

“I am.” You are just exhausted, nothing out of the ordinary. Especially not at this time of the month.

“Are you sure? You don’t look alright.”

“It’s that time of the month again.” The worried expression on his face slowly fades away when he notices you are actually alright. It makes you wonder what he thought happened to you, but you don't ask him.

“Oh, darling…” His voice is so caring. Your period completely saps you of your energy and he knows it. He knows how you suffer or what you do to make yourself feel better. “Did you take a painkiller?”

“Yes.” Of course, you did. That was the first thing you thought of.

“When?”

You stop for a second to think. “In the morning and after lunch.”

“So you can take another one now, right?” 

That’s a good question. You can take another pill, but your stomach is already protesting at that thought. You should eat something before taking it, but you don’t feel like cooking. Even the thought is exhausting.

“But first you will need food.” God, is he reading your mind or what?

“I don’t feel like–” Before you can finish your sentence, he’s already standing up and making his way to the kitchen.

“I will prepare something for you.” When your words register, he turns around and looks at you. “You don’t wanna eat anything?”

“No, no. I was going to say I don’t feel like preparing anything.” 

“Oh, that’s fine.” He turns around. “Don’t worry. I will make your favorite.”

You have yet to learn what he means by that because you have many favorites. A meal, sandwich, snack, or dessert? You find out what he means when he comes back with your favorite sandwich, a glass of water, and the painkiller you use only during your period. You love him for paying enough attention to notice that.

“Eat while I draw a bath for you. Warm water should help.”

Why didn’t you think about filling the tub and just sitting there? The thought of laying there for a while sounds so much more appealing than a quick shower. It doesn’t take long for you to finish the whole sandwich and take the pill. Your stomach isn’t protesting anymore, and neither are your taste buds. Still, the pain and that discomfort are there, lingering and making you regret being born. Men don’t have to suffer like this and it’s so unfair! You hate mankind for that privilege. While you are lost in your thoughts, Bucky comes out of the bathroom and you notice: No, you don’t hate the whole of mankind. There’s one exception. You can’t hate Bucky when he’s the most thoughtful person you've ever met.

“The bathtub is ready for you. Did you finish your sandwich?” He kind of sounds like a teacher or a parent, checking if you did everything you were supposed to.

“Yep, all done.” You gesture to the plate. “Took the painkiller, too.”

“Good job, doll.” He comes closer without taking his eyes off of you. “Wanna head to the bathroom now?”

“Yes, but I need to take some clothes with me first.”

“Don’t worry, I will take care of it. Just get in there and relax, okay?”

You just nod with a small smile on your lips. When he takes care of you like this, you feel so lucky and so seen. You never asked him to do any of this stuff for you. Occasionally, you just said “I don’t feel like cooking” thinking you would order take out or you asked for a painkiller, but he registered all that information and started to do things without you asking. Seeing how he paid attention and cared about you just makes you feel valued.

You have no idea how long you have been laying in the bathtub. It was nearly perfect with the bubbles and the scent. You expected him to show up and tell you what to do next, but that did not happen. After a while, you decide to properly clean yourself and drain the bathtub. That’s when you notice he put your towels to warm on the radiator, which instantly makes you smile. You wrap your hair with one and dry your body with the other. Thinking you might bleed around, you quickly leave the bedroom to find your clothes. 

While you are thinking if you should go for a pad or a tampon, you find your missing boyfriend in your bedroom. Your clothes are already chosen and set aside, your favorite pajamas waiting for you.

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

“A little better. The painkiller started to work its magic.” You walk towards your clothes to put them on as quickly as possible, still thinking about the blood.

Bucky quickly gets in your way. “No need to rush.”

“No, no, I really need to rush.” He gives you a look that makes you think he's confused. “I don’t have a tampon on. I will bleed on the floor.”

“And?” His tone is so carefree, it confuses you.

“And we will have to clean it, Bucky.” You state the obvious.

“Then we will clean it.” He makes things sound so natural, so casual. Like it’s the most normal thing on earth, but you are conditioned to think that you shouldn’t bleed around, that you should take care of any mess you make.

“You don’t wanna see that.”

“Maybe I do.” His answer comes instantly, surprising you.

“Believe me, you don’t.” You make a move in the direction of your clothes, but Bucky doesn’t let you.

“Bucky!” 

“Darling, I have been fighting for god knows how long. Do you think your period blood would disturb me?” His question sounds so genuine, you stop to think for a second. He has a point, but not really. It's a different kind of blood.

“I mean it’s not the same, is it?” 

“Yeah, it’s not.” The confirmation you expect finally comes. “I’m used to seeing blood caused by violence, not by nature.”

Wait, what?

You don’t know how to react to this. Of course, it is natural, but it is also torture and it makes a mess every time. A huge mess. Usually, your exes were disturbed by the idea, keeping a respectful distance while you were on your period, but apparently not Bucky. His fingers were already grazing your skin carefully. He looks into your eyes, asking for permission silently.

“I really don’t feel like it, Bucky.” You hate saying no to him, but the pain is still there. You are sure it will make things uncomfortable.

“I’m just asking for permission to touch you, doll. I’m not asking for anything else.” He keeps confusing you tonight. 

“What do you mean?”

“Just let me make you feel better.” His answer is simple, but not enough for you to understand his meaning. What does he mean by that?

“I think having you there now isn’t a great idea, Buck. I’m in pain and a little bit too sensitive.” You try to explain as simply as possible.

“Darling… There are other ways to make you feel better, or did you forget about those? Maybe I should remind you, huh?” Gosh, the smug smile creeping up his lips… It sends shivers down your spine. “Just lay down.” He gestures to the bed.

“I will blee–”

“Shh…” He doesn’t let you finish. “Just be a good girl and stop thinking too much.”

For fuck's sake… A good girl? He definitely knows how to shut your brain up. You slowly sit down on the bed and notice a big towel under you. He already thought about everything, so you won’t have to worry. So you can just enjoy this. If that’s what he wants, you can do that. You can shut your mind for a short while and try to enjoy yourself. 

As he lies down next to you, he turns his entire body in your direction and props himself up on his elbow. His flesh fingers start to caress your skin very lightly, making their way to the towel you wrapped around your body. 

“It is time to…” His fingers work quickly to undo the towel. “...take this off.”

He sounds somehow impatient. Maybe just to see you naked or hear the sounds you make while he touches you all the ways he knows you love. His fingers move to your nipple, fingertips grazing over carefully. As he touches you so lightly, another wave of goosebumps washes over you. It's not normal for you to be this sensitive, but your nipples are already hard. Your lips tremble as he moves closer and gives one a long lick.

“God, damn it.” You mutter and he instantly looks up.

“Should I stop?” The way he asks the question shows how concerned and focused he is.

“No, no.” You take a deep breath. “Just be gentle. I’m just…”

“Sensitive, I know.” He smiles and dives back in. His tongue swirls around your nipple over and over again until you start to cry out.

“Fuck!” That’s so unexpected. The pleasure you are feeling is foreign. Nipple play never felt like this before. “It feels so– so good.”

He moves his mouth away with a wet pop just to say: “Yes, surrender yourself to the feeling, darling.” Then he goes back to sucking your nipple, while his metal hand is massaging your other breast. It’s such an amazing change after feeling pain for hours and you can’t help but crave more. Your hips are rising unintentionally. Bucky’s flesh hand moves down to your body, sliding between your folds really carefully, but it makes you push your hips up again.

You've never felt this wet in your life. You are sure your period has a lot to do with it, but god… That’s not the only reason. The way he’s paying attention to your breasts, the way his index finger is working between your folds… It feels like magic. His fingers start rubbing on your clit and the next thing you know you're moaning his name over and over again. Whenever you moan, his tongue becomes more relentless around your nipple. The pleasure hits you suddenly, it takes your breath away.

“Buck–” Your back arches like a bow. “Oh my go–”

He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even hesitate for a second. His fingers and tongue work you through your orgasm until you start to feel a little sensitive. You let a long breath out, proving how satisfied you feel.

Finally, he lets go of your nipple and looks up. Hair messed up, lips swollen and eyes glossy. “How are you feeling?”

“Great.” You breathe out again and it makes him smile widely. So fucking widely… “I feel great.” His hand rests on your pussy while his head is on your upper body. You lean down a little and he meets you in the middle in a messy kiss. God, his lips are the most delicious thing you've ever tasted. They're nearly sweet and just intoxicating.

You sigh loudly, feeling so much better than before. The pain is the last thing on your mind. You actually think about a possible second orgasm already and a little smile creeps up on your lips.

“What?” He asks wondering what you are thinking.

“I think I want a bit more.” 

“Oh, you do?” He is fully smirking now. You just nod while biting one side of your lower lip. “Would it be okay if I put my fingers inside? Would that be comfortable for you?”

“I hope so. We can try and if it’s uncomfortable, I'll tell you.”

“What a good girl you are.”

Before you can say anything in return, his fingers move a little down and he pushes one of them inside.

“Bucky!” The sudden pleasure catches you off guard.

“Sorry, sorry. I will go slow.” He moves himself a little bit up, just to be able to kiss you comfortably. You look at him and excitement is written all over his face. He’s actually enjoying this even though he isn’t getting off himself, and you love how your pleasure affects him. Licking your lips, you close the little distance between you two. 

He kisses you deeply while moving his finger in and out. He’s using just one, but dear god… you are so sensitive. It feels so good even though you aren’t completely filled. Slowly, he pushes the second finger inside, crooking them and rubbing them along a spot where you can see stars. Your mouth suddenly opens as you let out a loud moan. You are unable to kiss him back, it feels like your whole body just tensed up and your muscles stopped working.

“Yes! God, yes.” You manage to say while he keeps on working. “Just like that.”

“Don’t worry, doll.” He speeds up a little. “I won’t stop.”

He keeps working his fingers while kissing your neck. You can feel your second orgasm approaching and it feels so good, but also not enough.

“Please…” You beg without thinking. “Please…”

“Tell me what you want.” His voice sounds so deep, so full of desire.

“Faster. A little faster.” You take a deep breath. “I’m so– close.”

He doesn’t make you ask twice, just starting to move his fingers a little faster and that’s all it takes. 

“Bucky!” You scream so loudly that it surprises even you, but it’s too late to bite your lip. The overwhelming pleasure takes over, making you scream so loudly that Bucky thinks all your neighbors know what you are up to. And he doesn’t care. They should know he is the one making you feel this good. He is the one who makes you forget about your pain and mindlessly moan his name like a prayer.

When you come down from your high, you feel boneless. It’s like your whole body relaxed after the blinding pleasure. Maybe it’s the mixture of the orgasms and the painkiller you took, but you are too tired to care. 

While you stretch your arms, you notice Bucky isn’t next to you anymore. You look around to see where he went and he comes out of the bathroom with another towel in his hand.

“Looking for me?” God, his smile is so smug, but you can’t blame him. The way you just screamed his name without having his cock inside you… That must have boosted his ego. Rightfully so. His fingers are magical. And his tongue. Also his lips. The way he turns you on so much and pulls this pleasure out of you is unbelievable.

“Yes. Why did you leave me?” You know he didn’t but you like to play.

“Just got a wet towel for you.” He kneels in front of the bed, between your legs and you prop up on your elbows to see what he’s doing. He gently moves the towel on your thighs and wipes the blood he smeared while making you scream his name.

“I could clean myself. You didn’t have to.” 

“I know you can, doll. Nobody said you can’t.” He rubs the towel against your slit and you jump a little, feeling sensitive. He notices your reaction and tries to do it more carefully. “I just want to help you.” After he’s done wiping, he folds the towel and puts it away. Immediately after, he grabs your clothes and helps you get dressed: your underwear first (and no, he did not forget about the pads), then your pajamas. In a couple of seconds, you're clean and all dressed up. “Now it’s time to rest.”

You move backward and get under the covers while watching him collect the towels all over the room and put them in the dirty laundry bin. It amazes you how he doesn’t forget about anything. He doesn’t let any small detail bother or worry you. You hear him washing his hands and he comes back with a smile on his face. 

You don’t know how you got this lucky. Having a loving and caring boyfriend like him… Getting taken care of like this… You remember how your friends talk about their boyfriends and how they do absolutely nothing. You know that’s not how a relationship should be, but you also know how rare this is. Your eyes wander back to him while he is getting undressed, showing you how incredibly hard he is. Yet he didn’t even make a move to relieve himself. He didn’t ask for a hand or begged to be inside you like he does sometimes. He put you first and unfortunately that’s even rarer.

He quickly puts on his pajamas and slips right next to you in bed. His arms are already around your waist, pulling you closer. You carefully move your hand down and palm his still rock-hard erection.

“Nope.” His answer is simple yet firm.

“Let me take care of you, Bucky.” You try to say as sweetly as possible. You want to return the favor.

“Not tonight, darling.” He gently moves your hand away. “But I promise, you can do whatever you want to me when you feel better, alright?”

“Alright.” He’s right. You are feeling sleepy already, you can do this another time. 

After all, you are his and he is yours. You have all the time in the world.

He pulls you even closer, putting his head on your shoulder behind your back.

“It’s time to sleep.”

“I love you Bucky.” You say while feeling the weight on your eyelids. It’s hard to keep them open.

“I love you too, darling.”

[bunniesanddeer]

I really really LOVE the Touch chapters with Alastor. You write it so well! Although you have a fic on touch now already I was wondering if I could request something similar?

Persoanlly I think I'd be a really affectionate and touchy person but I simply cannot initiate touch without knowing where to touch, how long, how much pressure and so on. And asking people before hand makes them really confused and tbh I hate having to explain myself and sound needy about it. Idk if it's just me having some weird thing going on.

Anyways, would you consider writing Al with a reader that just got to the hotel and is very straight forward with people about their fear of initiating physical contact during times where reader knows someone would appreciate a hug or pat or any kind of physical contact but reader can't give it them before clearing just how hey want the touch to be.

So Alastor notices that reader acts very affectionate in moments with people who initiate touch (cuddles with Angel on the couch, does Charlie's hair). But at the same time he notices that they shy away and sometimes flinch away when reader touches someone by accident (handing someone something and their hands brush, etc) and apologizes as if they had just burned them.

He goes to figure out why that is and kind of challenges reader to touch him (after him consenting of course) whenever because the struggle and fear amuses him plenty but somewhere deep down he wants them to grow comfortable and confident since that is how their personality is over all and it suits them way better than the cowardly insecure overthinking reader who is too scared to ask for a hug on an especially bad day, even when it could literally save their afterlife.

Just fluff and more physical affection and soft Alastor

You don't have to though! We have already been blessed with some amazing works by you

Would appreciate it to the moon and back if you would take this request (or add another part to your Touch chapters because I am a girl OBSSESSED and starved, hungry for more lol)

Thank you sooooo much for reading and I hope you have a lovely weekend!!!!! <3

Hi! I hope this is something like what you wanted? I had fun writing this. Sorry it took me a little while, haha.

Challenge

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Tags: Fluff, touch sensitive reader/Alastor, slightest tinge of angst

Word Count: 2,839

When you had come to the hotel, Alastor was sure you weren’t going to last long. You avoided eye-contact with others, and your hands constantly fidgeted. You shifted on your feet, and rocked back on your heels constantly. Even when standing in one place, you couldn’t seem to be still. You seemed shifty, and he was sure you would pull something, and he would have to remove you. Alas, he was wrong. You stuck around, even if your weird tendencies only got weirder.

In the several weeks you had been residing in the hotel, not once had you initiated contact with anyone, not that he had seen. Alastor was sure you didn’t like it, until he saw Angel pick you up like a stuffed animal, and make you cuddle with him while watching the television. You had melted into the embrace, nuzzling against the soft fur of Angel’s upper shoulders. So Alastor needed to keep watching, and come up with a new explanation for your behavior.

At some point, Charlie had begged to ‘play’ with your long hair, so the two of you ended up dragging everyone into the sitting room for an impromptu ‘spa’ day. Charlie sat behind you, you were nearly in her lap, braiding one section of hair, and Vaggie was painting your claws. Angel was brushing out Husker’s fur. Niffty and Sir Pentious were talking and looking at the make up laid out across the coffee table. Alastor merely watched, amused by the group's antics every once in a while. 

He watched the way your eyes fluttered when you were embraced by the girls, and the way you seemed so at ease. Nothing seemed particularly amiss. He wondered if you hadn’t been comfortable yet, and had nearly settled with that. That was, until Angel came home, nearly in tears, one day.

“Fuck!” Angel yelled, tossing his phone harshly. It was rare for Angel Dust to have such an outward burst of anger. He always put on a show of being satisfied with his work, even when he clearly wasn’t. When Angel had settled on one of the couches, his face collapsed into his hands. “I’m so fucking tired of Val…”

Angel mumbled to himself as you entered the lobby. You glanced at Angel, and then his shattered phone. You frowned, your soft features looking nearly angry, and then picked up his phone, and made your way to him. Alastor watched from the bar, interested to see how this interaction went.

“Hey, Angie. I uh, I got your phone,” you said quietly. You sat off to the side of the couch, looking out of place, and uncomfortable. 

Angel mumbled something back, and your frown grew more severe. “I uh,” your voice trailed off, and your eyes started darting around. “Do you - do you want, like, a hug? I don’t really know what you need right now, I’m sorry.”

Alastor watches as Angel turns his head and whispers something to you. He doesn’t seem confused, not like Alastor is. He is clearly missing something. His eyes narrow, and he watches as you crawl up on the couch and awkwardly settle yourself against Angel’s side. 

How bizarre! How could you possibly not know what he needed? You were a very empathetic person, always looking out for others, and you liked being held, clearly, so how would you lack this kind of knowledge.

Alastor decides to confront you about it, at a later time. He needed to know everything about this. Perhaps it would be useful!

The next day, Alastor decides to try and get you to touch him, and then go from there. (It had been a little while since he had decided to ‘wing’ something like this. How exciting! You weren’t a bore at all!) His best bet would be to invite you to assist him for the day, so he invites you to when you’re heading down the stairs that morning.

“Ah! Just the woman I was looking for! How are you this morning, dearest?” He settles his hand on the banister, near where yours is resting, and waits.

“Oh! Good morning Alastor. I’m doing okay. What is it you needed me for?” Your smile is gentle and your demeanor open, even if you can’t keep eye-contact. 

“I was wondering if you would like to assist me today? We haven’t had much ‘bonding’ time as you and the others! I was hoping to rectify that,” he responds. He keeps his normal flair and watches you giggle at him.

“Of course, Al. It’s not like I had much going on today.” You pull back from the banister and twist to look at him better. “What do you have in mind?”

Alastor merely nods, and starts leading you down to the kitchen. “I was thinking you could assist me with breakfast, and then we can do some minor paperwork! We’ll decide what to do after that.”

You happily agree, and trail after him, leaving just enough space so you can’t ump into him. 

“We are going to make french-toast, fried green tomatoes, and ham. Should be simple enough, dear!” He snaps, and the two of you are wearing aprons. You let out a surprised laugh, and smile up at him.

“I will never get over how cool that is!” 

He waves you off, and starts pulling things out of the cabinets. He hands each one to you, waiting for you to make contact. 

Then it happens.

You jerk your hand back so fast that the whisk he’d been handing to you falls to the floor with a clatter. Your whole body seems to shrink in on yourself, and your expression collapses.

“Oh. Oh, no. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” You start rambling apologies, and it makes Alastor’s head cock to the side.

“Why are you sorry, dear?” His voice lilts with just the slightest amount of amusement, but you don’t seem to catch on to it. 

“I- I touched you! I’m sorry! I don’t know how to do it appropriately, and I’m sorry! You have more boundaries than the others and I just-” Your rambling starts to annoy him, just the slightest bit, and his eyes narrow.

“I would tell you, if I had a problem with it,” he starts. “You don’t normally have a problem. Why is it a problem now?”

You frown, harshly. It is the first time he has seen such a negative emotion on your face. (Something in him is unsettled at the sight. He ignores it, as he often does). “What do you mean? That’s not the same!”

Alastor is now genuinely confused. It is absolutely the same! How could it not be?

You seem to catch onto his confusion, and a small growl rips from your throat in frustration. “I’m okay with people touching me first, because that’s initiating contact, and they lead the whole time. It’s easier to understand what people want, and where it is okay to touch, based on how they feel, and how they are touching me. But, but when I do it first, it’s hard to know what’s okay! I don’t have someone to mimic, and it’s- it’s hard!” Your face contorts further, and you’re palpably angry. 

“All these social rules, and stuff can be so hard sometimes! It’s easier to just not do it! How can I hurt anyone if I don’t give myself the opportunity, you know?” You sigh, and drop your upper body on the kitchen island’s counter. “It sucks,” you say, your voice muffled by the counter.

Alastor feels a modicum of sympathy. You nearly have the exact opposite problem to him. You want to touch other, craving that closeness, but don’t know how to go about it. He would rather go without it, but knows exactly how to use touch on others, especially to get what he wants.

His mind whirls with thoughts of how pathetic you seem like this. You are normally so confident! Why let this silly worry prevent you from being the best you can be? His thoughts settle on a plan before he can really acknowledge it. 

“Alright then, dearest!” Alastor smacks the counter, drawing your attention. “I have an idea. A challenge, if you will. To help you get over this silly fear of yours, I challenge you to this; you must touch me every day, at least once. Each touch must be a different kind than the last, and it can’t be for the same reason.” Alastor tilts his head at you, waiting for you to take the bait.  “You are allowed to do it without asking, and it can be as big or small as you are comfortable with, but you need to do it. If you can do this, to the point where you are comfortable hugging the others without worrying about “hurting” them, then you win.”

Your head pops up from the counter, and you narrow your eyes at him. “What do I win?”

Alastor feels his grin widen. Yes, you would be fun to play with. “A small favor. Something simple. And confidence. It’s a shame that you are being held back by something so simple!”

You huff, but nod your head. “Fine. I touch you, once a day, unsolicited, and it’s gotta be different each time, or something like that. I win when I can hug everyone else without being touched first.”

“There’s my girl,” he says, watching your whole body stiffen in response. He laughs, and picks up the whisk from the floor. “Let’s continue with breakfast, yes?”

The first time you touch him is during a “movie night” that Charlie sets up the next day. She demanded Alastor participate, despite his well known hatred of television, and everything to do with that technology. You had silently approached him as the group set up pillows and blankets on the floor around the TV, and against the couches. The two of you watched idly, before you spoke up.

“Can I sit with you,” you asked softly. 

“Of course, dear! Good company might make this terrible idea more… palatable,” Alastor grumbled. You smile at him, and laugh a little. 

“Oh, the horror. Sitting with your friends, and relaxing,” you respond, tilting your head at him. His static surges for a moment, but he says nothing in response. You laugh again, although he’s not quite sure why.

When the group finally gets settled in for the movie, and the lights are turned off, he watches you shift about in your seat. Your eyes dart around the room, and your hands fidget. It takes a few minutes, the intro to the movie already going, for you to finally look at him. You scoot closer to him, more than halfway across the couch. You wait another moment, and Alastor’s eyes don’t move from your form. He just watches you fidget with amusement. Finally, you speak up, barely a whisper.

“Hey, can- can I lean on you?” You are so hesitant, and it makes his eyebrows furrow, just the slightest. 

“Of course, dear,” he whispers back, his static barely a murmur. Your body slackens, all the tension drawn out. 

“Oh, good,” you mumble, pressing your small form against his side. It takes a few moments, but then you are completely calm against him, head pressed into his arm, your hands against his waist, and knees curled up under you and tucked against his thigh. You mumble something about him being warm, and all Alastor can do is agree. 

You are so very warm, and it has him almost anxious. He isn’t sure what about, as the room is calm, and the silly animated picture-show is easily ignored. You are so very warm, and he can feel each breath your body breathes in. He can nearly hear the soft pound of your heartbeat, even over the picture-show. His nose twitches at your scent. He will have to take a far-too hot bath later to remove it. It’s fine, though. It’s all part of the game. 

Alastor ignores that you’ve fallen asleep on him. It’s for the best.

The next day, you offer him a “fist-bump”, which he doesn’t understand. You laugh, and explain the gesture, and show him how it looks.

“You do it when you did something cool, or when you’re having fun with your friends.” You smile at him and constantly gesture with your hands while you talk. It keeps his attention quite easily. “Ah, here, let’s see if you understand. What was the last cool thing you did? It can be whatever.”

Alastor thinks over the last few days exploits, and shrugs. “I made a sinner cry by merely looking at him, this morning.” 

You go stock still before bursting out laughing. “Really? Oh my gosh. Seriously, fist-bump,” and you offer your knuckles. Alastor hesitantly returns the gesture, knocking your hands together. However clumsily it was done, it makes your smile wider. “Nice! Yeah, that’s exactly how you do it!”

If he tries the gesture on the others later on, he never tells you. Charlie got a kick out if, though. He refuses to tell her who told him about it. 

One day, you’re assisting Niffty cleaning, but can’t reach a spot way too high for either of you to get. Neither of you can find a ladder, and Alastor is watching with a far too delighted smile. When you spot him, you smile mischievously.

“Alastoorrrrr,” You call, your eyes narrowing playfully. “Come here. Please.”

He strides over, not letting his hesitance show. “What can I do for you, my dear?”

“Can I get up on your shoulders? I need to be able to reach that spot with the duster.” You point up at where you need to dust. He looks over at it, and realizes you are definitely not getting  up there without help.

Alastor cocks his head at you, thinking over the logistics, and then nods. He kneels down, and feels you pull yourself onto his back, propping each leg over his shoulders. When you are still, hands gently around his neck, he stands up straight. He feels you wobble and then balance with a laugh. Your hands let go of him. He feels each breath and laugh and words from you gently vibrate his head with how close the two of you are. 

“I’m so tall! Hahah! This is great! I wish I was always this tall, haha!” You keep laughing, and readjust your duster, pointing at your destination. “Onwards, my steed!”

Alastor rolls his eyes at your antics, but obliges, standing closer to where you need to be. Niffty is squealing, and it’s making you laugh harder. Alastor joins in at some point, and then the three of you are running around the first floor of the hotel, terrorizing the others with your hijinks.

Alastor thinks, privately, that you make him laugh over the little things, something that he hasn’t done in a while. He isn’t sure how to feel about it.

It’s several weeks after the challenge had been initiated, that he finds you hiding in a side-closet. Alastor isn’t sure how he knew you would be there, but the discovery throws him. You’re crying. Nearly bawling your eyes out, and you look uncomfortable with the way your small body is curled into a tight ball, surrounded by cleaning supplies. 

“Oh, hey, Al,” you say, your voice rough. “How’d you find me?”

“Just needed to follow the sound of despair, apparently, my dear,” he responds without a thought. He nearly winces when his words process, and he shakes his head. “I’m not sure, dear. Whatever are you doing in there?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Something upset me, but I can’t remember what.” Your voice trails off, and you look at where you have situated yourself. You huff, and pull yourself out with a grunt.

You dust off your knees, and the back of your pants, frowning. “Sorry you had to see that, haha.” You try to muster a smile, but Alastor sees right through it. “Right.”

Alastor simply watches as you shut the closet door, and try and calm yourself down. 

“Gosh, I feel dumb.” You frown at the ground, and sigh. “Alright. Can I have a hug?”

Alastor’s eyebrows raise. Oh. You were finally ready to hug him. How interesting. 

“Of course, dear.” He opens his arms, not even bothering to check for others seeing the interaction. You rub your face, and then step between his arms. You wrap yourself around him, loose at first, and then you embrace him hard. His arms fall around you, and he pulls you in close. His head settles on top of yours. 

You are still so warm, and you smell wonderful; something comforting, something familiar. Your heart thrums against your ribs, and he can feel it pounding. His ears twitch at every soft sound. 

This is nice. Although there is still time, part of him mourns the day you are ready to win his challenge. He supposes he can enjoy each little bit of connection the two of you have, until then. 

Taglist: @numetalnerd2007 @girl-nahh-two Remember, you can be added to my taglist by replying to the tagged post on my page!

[peterparkersnose]

hey there, first i would like to thank you for taking my request cause i love your writing so much and it is a special request that I could only read from you, it's a joel miller x fem reader, fluff age gap (ofc not illegal), i find so much comfort in your joel's fics, so, thanks again and wishing you the best. <33

Stargazing

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

word count: 3.7k

warnings: age gap, ellie plays matchmaker (common troupe), alcohol consumption, drunk confessions, mutual pining, anxiety and overthinking, this is a heavy dialouge fic, joel being awkward, just general awkwardness but fluff at the end I promise :)

a/n huge shoutout to the person who asked this! i was silly while editing this and accidentally deleted their ask, and they were kind enough to resubmit it for me. also, just a side note almost in every one of my joel fics there is an age gap, I just don't normally specify it but with this one they really deep dive in to it. I'm sorry but I am a younger person, I don't think I could write from the viewpoint of someone close to my parents age.

summary Ellie tries to set Y/N and Joel up on a date

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read time: 13 mins 34 seconds

It was past closing time in the bar. Maria, Tommy, and Joel sat around the dimly lit bar at the last table. Tommy had assured the bartender that he would close up; Tommy was more than capable to.

“Truth or dare,” the drunk man slurred. All three of them were collectively wasted. Joel sighed, downing another shot. He felt seconds later that he shouldn’t have. “Truth.” Joel spit out. This seemed like the hundredth round of this childish game Maria insisted on playing.

“Who in all of the population here would you want to bang in bed on your last night alive?”

Joel knew the answer immediately. A secret he had been keeping to himself for the few years he has known you. And the secret he had been denying and denying for so long. He knew Tommy was fishing for something. But that last shot began to ring through his system as he spoke. He let out a disappointed sign.

“Y/N.”

Maria snorted, almost falling out of her chair. Tommy looked at Joel with his brows furrowed. “What?” Joel asked in defense. “Joel, ain’t she like 20?”

“22.” he said in defense. There wasn’t much to defend, he was a great much older than you. And Joel was more ashamed than ever. He had known you since you were 19, ever since you helped escort Ellie across the country. It felt gross, it felt wrong. But whenever he thought of you, something just couldn’t resist. Your mannerisms, the way your voice sounded, how you responded to maturely to everything. You were an old soul, one that Joel got along with well. Crossing the platonic line never crossed his mind until he settled down in Jackson.

Joel’s eyes darted to the floor. “Hey, you said anyone!” he argued. Maria could not contain her laughter, almost falling on the floor. “Whatever. You guys suck.” he said, pushing his glass of whiskey that was almost finished off towards Tommy. Joel got up and began to leave. “I shouldn’t have said nothin’.”

“Hey!” Tommy yelled after him, over Maria’s laughing. “Quit it,” he muttered at her, making her laugh even more. “Joel-”

It was too late. He drunkenly made his way down the street and to his house. The light in your bedroom was still on he noticed. Joel wasn’t being a stalker and being weird, but you were his neighbor. What were you doing up so late? Reading something he figured. Or talking with Ellie, the girl really seemed to never shut up. As he was about to turn away, you came to the window. Confused of why Joel was out so late, you opened it. The cool spring breeze entered your room.

Joel seemed to panic, and pretended to have not noticed you at all.

“Miller!” he heard you yell. He stopped in his tracts and turned around. “L/N!” he called back. The repetition of your gesture towards him made you smile.

“What you doing up so late? Don’t you have patrol with me tomorrow morning?”

Joel let out a sigh. His hands rested on his hips. “God, is that tomorrow?” he lied. He totally knew. He was looking forward to it all week. “Yup. 7 sharp. Better get to bed, old man.”

The old man comment definitely hurt his ego. He couldn’t pick up on it, but that was your way of flirting. Teasing almost. But to Joel it just proved to himself that you just wanted to be friends—when you totally wanted the opposite.

“And what are you doing up so late?”

You held up the landline phone in to view. “Ellie,” you sighed. “Get some sleep!” he called, and began to head back to his house. The vision of you in your nightgown was getting too much for him, making him realize he wanted things he never thought he could ever want again. “Goodnight Joel,” you called. He waved, and entered his house.

You flopped down on your bed after you closed your curtains. Holding your pillow over your chest, you squeezed it hard. Your stomach fluttered as you childishly re played the memory of what had just happened. Finally, your bedroom light went out.

-

“Y/N,” Ellie sang, circling into your kitchen. It was your fault for leaving the back door open on such a nice day. It unfortunately tracked in things such as unwanted Ellie’s. It was midday, your patrol with Joel had ended about an hour earlier.

“Yes?” you sang back, sitting on your couch and looking up from your book. “I have news.”

She came and sat down next to you. “And what is this news? Is it important enough to distract me from my book?” you asked. Ellie sensed your pissed off tone.“Bookmark the page. You’ll never guess what I heard.”

“Ellie, if this is gossip—” you sighed, setting the book down next to you. “It’s not gossip when it involves you,”

You sighed and rolled your eyes, praying Maria didn’t share one of your embarrassing stories you confided in her. Everyone knew Maria had a big mouth. You slowly crept forward “What is it?”

“Joel has a crush on you.”

A quick laugh escaped from your lips. Ellie looked at you confused. “I-I’m telling the truth.” Your laughter continued. “I call fucking bullshit. Where did you hear that?” “Dude, Maria straight up told like everybody in the dining hall today.”

Your face scrunched. "What?"

“Your definitely fucking with me Ellie. Not funny.” you laughed.

“No!” Ellie exclaimed. “She got wasted with Joel and Tommy last night and he confessed that he would ‘bang you out of everyone in this town’ according to Maria.”

So that’s what he was doing out so late last night.

The thought of the older man that escorted you and Ellie across country a few years ago having a crush on you was absurd. Wasn’t it?

“Well, I thought you should know because remember what you said when we passed through that one small town and…”

She was waiting for you to confirm the pushed down memory that lived in your brain rent free.

It was a small midwestern town in the middle of nowhere. You and Ellie sat outside a coffee shop Joel was currently ransacking for supplies. It was a nice day like today, you and Ellie were sitting on the steps keeping watch as Joel went through the kitchen.

“You know, if the world wasn’t shit I would like my own store. Maybe a coffee shop, it sounds nice. Calm, definitely.” Ellie confided in you. “What would you be doing?”

Your foot tapped on the concrete as you thought to yourself. What would you be doing?

“I would be in college by now. For what, I’m not sure. I would have eventually liked to be married but… that’s never gonna happened.”

“Never say never. You always have Joel.”

You scoffed and giggled. But you had to admit, you had gotten to know the older man well. He was bitter, but you saw through the cracks sometimes. He was quite handsome anyways. Something about his rugged appearance and peppery hair just sat right with you. He had a few soft moments with you along the journey, patching you up after a fight or comforting you after a nightmare that Ellie didn't know about. But that was ridiculous. Ellie was talking nonsense.

You laughed out loud to Ellie’s suggestion, just like you had previously. “Don’t deny it. I see the way you look at him Y/N.”

“Your full of shit,” you joked, giving Ellie a slight push on her shoulder.

“Joel would make a nice husband though. Strong, resourceful, handsome. If I had to pick… sure. I’d be Mrs. Miller any day.”

When you said the words you wanted to suck them back in. Too soon, too much, too quickly. Ellie stared at you blankly. Joel exited the building at the perfect time with a few cans of fruit and spoons. Perfect timing. You remembered the awkward silence as you ate on the pineapple bits, but the phrase rung in your head for days.

“Mrs. Miller”

Being brought back into reality, the memory of expressing interest in Joel re lit something in you. You felt your stomach churn.

“Ah… see?” Ellie exclaimed. Your face turned red as you wanted to bury it in your book. “Mrs. Miller!” she yelled, leaving the living room towards the kitchen and out the back door.

“Ellie!” you yelled firmly, following her with your fists clenched. “Where are you going?”

“To find Joel.”

“Why?” you asked panicked, finally catching up to her on the street panting. You were more nervous than ever to hear her response. “To set you and Joel up on a date, duh!”

"Ellie!" you scolded her, looking around to make sure no one heard her. "What?" she whined, breaking away from your eye on her and making a straight line for Joel's house. To your luck, he was in his garden tending to his flowers. He hadn't seen either of you yet.

You let out a quiet shout, a simple “Ah!” as Ellie pranced down the street. You couldn't watch it, you couldn't look. You ran back in to your house and shut the back door behind you. Sliding down the back of the door and sitting on your kitchen floor, you prayed he responded positively. Or that Ellie was just trying to scare you in a ‘I’m telling the teacher but actually just asking to go to the bathroom’ way. And if Ellie actually went through with her plan, you hoped he didn't take this the wrong way. Even though you really didn't think he would. Would he?

-

It was the next day. You had refused to leave your house in sheer embarrassment. Running in to Joel right now was just a no. You had just gotten out of the shower when you heard the pattering of feet in your downstairs. Praying it was Ellie, you grabbed your knife and held your towel against your chest. "Ellie?"

"Oh, there you are!" she exclaimed. You sighed. "You know, you cant just break in to my house whenever you want." you said, sticking your knife in to your banister.

"It's important!" Ellie exclaimed. "Is it important enough to wait until I can get dressed?"

"He said yes."

You were confused. "Who said yes?"

"Joel!"

Your mouth slightly dropped. "And when did I agree to this?" you asked, venturing in to your bedroom to get dressed. In all honestly, you could have stood and talked to Ellie for a few more minutes comfortably in your towel, but you wanted to hide the wide grin that couldn't seem to leave your face even if you tried.

"When you told me you wouldn't mind being Mrs. Miller," Ellie teased, acting like she was stating the obvious. You poked your head out of your door and looked down your stairs and gave Ellie a sour expression. "I only want you to be happy, that's all!"

"I'm perfectly fine as it is. I didn't need you meddling in my life."

"Well, nobody else was going to do it. We all see how your cooped up here, reading all day. We just want to make sure your okay."

You came out of your bedroom dressed, wrangling out the ends of your wet hair with a towel. You met Ellie at the bottom of the stairs. "And who is we?" you questioned. Ellie sucked her teeth. "You caught us," she chuckled, staring at her converse. "Tommy and Maria and...maybe Dina?"

You sighed audibly, closing your eyes for a moment. "All three of you! Wow." you said somewhat sarcastically.

"Ellie!" you heard a yell from outside. It was her new friend, Dina, who she was almost inseparable with.

"Gotta go." she said, opening your front door and skipping down your steps.

"Ellie- wait!"

She turned around and looked at you, you saw Dina anxiously waiting for her. "When is he coming?"

Ellie shrugged. "Dunno. He said he'd be around."

Your face scrunched in confusion. Be around...?

Before you could ask any follow up questions, the two girls were gone.

———

“This is so damn stupid,” Joel whispered to himself. His doubt was creeping in. The bouquet was hidden behind his back. Fresh picked from his garden, tied off with a bit of twine. His other hand was about to knock on your door. It wasn’t too late… 7 o’clock? You wouldn’t be in bed yet, right? Knock knock.

There was some shuffling from inside the house, and you opened the door. Almost yanked the door open, actually. Joel took a step back due to the commotion. “Joel?” you nervously asked, pretending you weren’t anxiously waiting for the random arrival of your not-so blind date all day. “W-what are you doing here?” you asked, playing dumb.

“If it’s not a good time I can-”

“Oh—no! It’s perfect, d-do you want to come in?” you asked the older man, looking up at him. Joel never seemed as intimidating as he did now. And you’ve seen him torture people before.

You let Joel in to your house as the two of you just stared at each other awkwardly. What did you really have to talk about? 

“What are those?” you asked anxiously, referencing down to the flowers in his hands.

“Oh!” he exclaims, kicking himself mentally for not remembering to give them to you. “There for you. Fresh from my garden.” 

You recognized the flower as tulips, your favorite. Joel was touched by the sparkle that came to your face once he presented them to you. Accepting them, your hands grazed his a bit. The both of you let go, almost dropping the flowers on the floor. An awkward laugh was exchanged. “Thank you, there beautiful.” you sighed in awe, moving in to the kitchen to get a glass to put them in. “How did you know tulips were my favorite?”

“Wild guess?” Joel responded. Not from Ellie prepping Joel for this date, not at all. 

“So what did you have in mind for tonight?” you asked, cutting off the stems of the tulips so they would fit in the glass jar you had filled with water. 

“Uh,” Joel mumbled. “I- you know that trail around the fence?”

“Up the mountain?” you asked him, setting the flowers down in the middle of your table. “Yeah. Your up to it?”

“That's a great idea, Joel.”

He let out his breath he was holding, thrilled that you agreed to his idea. Ellie said it was stupid, that walking the trails at night could be creepy. Ellie suggested a nice dinner, but Joel thought that was just so boring. Every date he had ever been on had basically been a nice dinner. He had this planned ever since Ellie even brought up the idea of a possible interest in pursuing Y/N.

Stargazing. 

The cool air was refreshing. You kept in rhythm with Joel. He was slower than you, and he was worrying that it would be a turn off for you. But you didn’t mind. You enjoyed taking in the silent night and the hums of nature slowly.

The moon was full and it was a clear night. The trail was overgrown, but still manageable. Joel had trekked up here earlier that day to get ready. As the clearing began to come in to view, Joel felt his anxiety rising. What if you didn’t like it? What if he put too much effort in to it and you thought it was weird? Joel was a quiet kept man, but his thoughts were screaming almost constantly. 

“Joel!” you gasped, stopping at the edge of the clearance. 

A blanket was laid on the ground with a few decorative pillows. A canteen with two cups sat on the grass along with a book and a lantern. Joel reached down and clicked the lantern open, and it began to emit a soft warm light. It wasn’t like the harsh, recreational ones that would blind you. 

“Did you do this? It’s… beautiful.”

Joel’s eyes cast up at you. “It’s nothing much…”

You sat down next to Joel on the blanket he had set out. “Nothing much?” you chuckled, taking in the beautiful view that shown over an abandoned city where Jackson got a lot of their supplies from. 

“I think this is the nicest thing a guy has ever done for me.”

“Then you obviously haven't met many nice guys,” Joel said, his voice shaking slightly. He realized how detrimental and self-deprecating that sounded and tried to re-phrase it. “You haven't been on many dates… right?”

And that now sounded predatory. “I-I mean-”

“Actually, this is my first date. Ever.”

Your confidence and comfortability answering him calmed Joel’s nerves. “I don’t mean to pry,” you began. “But did you ever have someone? Like before all this. And if you don’t want to reply that’s okay, I was just wondering but-”

Joel chuckled a bit at your eagerness. “Nah, no worries.” he re assured you, slowly moving his arm around you. Accepting his touch, you moved in to his embrace as the two of you stared up at the stars. “I had a wife- she was my ex-wife. My daughter’s mother. We had her real young, and she just wasn’t ready for the commitment of a family.”

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, watching a blinking star above. “It’s alright. Gave me the best life I could have ever asked for, for thirteen years.”

“And your daughter?”

Joel knew this was bound to come up sooner or later, just not this soon. He didn’t even realize he mentioned Sarah until you asked your follow up question. “She didn’t make it past outbreak day like most people didn’t.” he said bluntly. “But anyways,” he said quickly, saving the awkward response from you. “What about you? Any family?”

“Just Ellie. No relation as you know, but she’s my sister.” Joel nodded. There wasn’t much in this world, and family became what you made it. “What’s that?” you asked, perking your head up from Joel’s chest and pointing over to the grass. “What?” he asked. “The coffee or the book?”

You gasped. “You got coffee?”

He smiled and smirked. “I’ve always wanted to try coffee!” you exclaimed.

Joel looked at you with an odd look. “Your tellin’ me you've never had coffee?”

“No!” you exclaimed. “I used to have this every morning before the outbreak. Withdrawals the first few weeks were definitely difficult.” he explained as he poured you a glass. It was dark and steaming hot. “Coffee is a delicacy, dude. No one in the QZ had this where I was from. It would occasionally get passed out to the soldiers but man, that’s cool.” you said. Joel forgot—you were a post outbreak baby. You wouldn’t have known of the luxury of Starbucks or an espresso machine. “You may not like it, but it’s very unlikely.” he explained. Joel’s love for coffee was strong.

You took the first sip. It burned your tongue and tasted like dirt water. The smell was unmatchable, but the taste was just horrible. You froze, not wanting to disappoint Joel. 

Joel couldn't help it, he couldn't keep in his laughter. “Not a fan?” he asked, looking at you behind his cup as he took a sip. “It’s very…interesting?” you said, forcing yourself to take another sip. 

“Don’t torture yourself now,” Joel said, extending his hand for the cup. You gladly gave it back to him. “It was a nice thought,” you said dearly, giving him credit for his sweet gesture. “Ellie said the same thing when I made her try some. Must be a…”

He didn’t want to say it. His words came out faster than he could think. “What, a post outbreak baby thing?” you finished his sentence.

That was exactly what Joel was going for. “I mean, I didn’t mean it that way but…”

“It’s okay. Stop worrying Joel, you seem so nervous.” you flirted. “Aren't you?” Joel asked, feeling like that emotional wall was just broken down by your comment.

“Me? Oh, I’ve been a nervous wreck all day. Ellie didn’t give me a time, place, or any context other than that you were coming.” 

“Your kiddin’ me. That damn kid,” he sighed, reaching for the book on his side. “Speakin’ of Ellie.” he said, handing you the book.

“Constellations and Stars.” you said in awe.

“For kids,” you added, reading the small line under the title. “This some kind of cruel joke?” you asked Joel, opening the first page. “I promise it not,” he chuckled. “Found it in Ellie’s old storage bin she keeps in my basement. Thought it was useless, well, until now.”

“Do you see any?” you asked Joel. The two of you were laying flat on the blanket. Your head rested on his chest as his arm draped down protectively over you. Your legs were touching, feet and calves were intertwining. “The Big Dipper is always easy to find… if you look.”

You opened the book and flipped around a few pages until you found the page for the Big Dipper. “Like a kite,” you said. “Yeah, kind of like a kite.” 

After a few minutes of intense searching in the sky and enjoying your other’s companies, you found it. “Joel, I think I found it.”

“You did. I found it like five minutes ago.” he said shyly. You sighed in defeat. “I guess your just better than me.” you sighed sarcastically. “I guess I am.” Joel hummed.

“You know, back when the world wasn’t like this people would buy each other stars?” Joel asked. “That’s the stupidest thing I have ever heard.” you laughed. “With real money? Like the physical stuff?”

“Yup.” Joel confirmed. 

“I would buy you a star if I could.” you said suddenly. Joel suddenly felt a warmth grow inside of him, one he hadn't felt for many years. He had to spit out his thought, he just had to. Didn’t want to waste an opportunity. 

“I’d buy the whole sky of stars for you.” he said softly. You looked up at him, a hand resting on his chest. “Would you really?”

“In a heartbeat.”

The rest of the night was filled with laughter. You told Joel old stories about your QZ, he told you old stories about his life. Sharing what seemed like useless future plans now sounded promising with Joel. The two of you never wanted the night to end.

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You noticed the small wrinkles around Joel’s eyes when he smiled. When he smiled at least, you don't think you have ever seen this man so filled with so much joy before. You took in the detail of his smiling face intricately, not wanting to forget the feeling of the moment you were in. This man just said he would buy the whole sky of stars for you. You would do quite literally anything for him, but not like you wouldn’t have done it before. The feelings were very obviously now mutual. 

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