#I can't draw hug or cuddle help | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pacifymebby · 10 months

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Bonjour daddy 😉 can I request the peaky boys with cuddling? Like who’s the big spoon, which positions who’s the most cuddly etc.. me has gotten her period so I’m feeling all 🙍🏼‍♀️

Hahaha a total side note, i made that same joke to b and he just smirked like, if thats what you'd like to believe I won't ruin ur moment haha

Tommy

🌿 Is very big on the standing up cuddle, opening his arms up to you and holding you nice and snug against his body, wrapping his arms right around you, one hand stroking through your hair or cradling the back of your head.

🌿Will rest his chin on top of yours, kiss your parting and close his eyes, breathing in your scent

🌿Is a very doomed man and is always lowkey aware that every hug could be the last time he gets to hold his angel so every hug is savoured. He focuses on memorising exactly how he feels in the moment he's holding you, every detail filed away in his memory.

🌿He likes to be big spoon, but more than that he likes to lie on his back with your body on top of his.

🌿Drawing patterns down your back quietly, again trying to remember every detail. Obsessed with the sensation of your light restful breaths tickling his bare chest

🌿Loves the skin on skin feeling, always chasing purity in love and it makes him feel so connected to you, so intimate.

🌿 When you're on your period he recognises the change in your temper and is very careful with you, he will try not to snap at you or show any sign of irritation because he's aware how easily wounded you are... He makes sure to hug you and hold you even more than usual

🌿Modern! Tommy would make sure you had a hot waterbottle and all the blankets you needed, get you cosy in bed or on the sofa in front of the tv to watch your favourite movie. He'll humour whatever trash you want to watch and lie there behind you, kissing you and playing with your hair, more focussed on you than the tv.

Alfie

🐻 Big spoon always because he just wants to hold you, wants to be able to put his hands wherever he likes.

🐻 Likes to hold you in sexual places in a non-sexual way. What I mean by this is that if you're little spoon he'll hold one of your breasts in his hand, but just that, simply holding it just because he can... And not because he wants anything more than just to hold you

🐻 Also likes to tickle you on purpose with his beard, his stubble brushing your cheek or your neck, making you giggle and squirm rousing you from your sleep for just long enough he can ask for a kiss.

🐻 His favourite place to cuddle with you however is in a rocking chair by the fire, you bundled up in his lap under a blanket, him holding you safe and snug, your head resting on his chest or shoulder. You're the most precious thing in the world to him so he likes to have you bundled up in his arms at any opportunity.

🐻 You could be busy around the house talking to him about your day or mithering and worrying, or asking him about business and he will refuse to talk to you about any of it until you've gone and sat down in his lap. He'll pat his thigh and open his arms for you, "now now zieskiet, whatve I told you eh, if you're gonna come home talkin me poor old ears off about that nonsense you've at least got to let me hold my little girl whilst I listen eh... Take pity on your old man yeah poppet?"

🐻 Very possesive, can't keep his hands off you ever so when you're cuddling he's constantly rubbing his palms over your arms, or holding your thigh, always doing little things to let you know he's there, that youre all his and he's got you.

🐻 Gives big squeezy bear hugs holds onto you so tight, keeps your face burried into his chest, blocks out the rest of the world so that all you can feel his him all around you.

🐻 Alfie's too old to be immature about your period and if anything he feels a little sorry for you, he doesnt like that he can't do much to help you but he always makes sure he's very gentle with you. Even more doting than usual.

🐻 Gives the best belly rubs, like he ubderstands that you need to do more than just rub your hands lightly over your tummy. He'll rub his hands together to heat them up first and then gently massage you until you're feeling a little better.

🐻 Modern Alfie wouldn't be embarrassed about going to shops to get your pads but he also wouldn't be going... He'd be sending Ollie so that you and him could have a good laugh at Ollie expense.

Arthur

🍂 Doesn't realise until one day you climb into bed after him and make yourself big spoon, wrapping your body around his, nuzzling into the back of his neck and kissing down the bumps of his spine, kissing his shoulder too, but he loves being little spoon.

🍂 It makes him feel so safe and loved, makes him feel cherished which is a very new feeling for him, not one he's ever experienced in adult life.

🍂 He loves being able to close his eyes and feel your fingers scratching and massaging his head. You like stroking the backs of your fingers along his jaw where his stubble is.

🍂 He doesnt admit that he loves this for a long time though, and you never ask about it because you know that if you do he'll get embarassed and deny it and then potentially never let you hold him again.

🍂Feels almost ashamed that he likes it because he's the man, so isn't he supposed to be the one making you feel loved and cherished and safe?

🍂 Blushes when you prop yourself up on your elbow looking down at him, leaning down to kiss his cheek.

🍂Will fall asleepy like that so quickly because its the safest he's ever felt.

🍂 He will however insist upon being big spoon at certain times of the month or when youre feeling unwell. He won't know how to deal with your period at all, he'll only know that youre more argumentative and that he has to be careful not to start a fight with you...

🍂 Doesnt like seeing you cry and you cry at everything when youre on your period so he will spend a lot of time hugging you close to him so that no one can see your tears. Leaves those long held kisses in your hair and you feel protected by him for as long as his lips remain pressed to your head.

🍂 Modern Arthur definitely gets embarassed about having to go to the shops for period pads, like, he definitely panics doesnt know what to buy, goes red, feels like he has to say something at the till even though he really doesn't need to.

John

🌼 Favourite way to cuddle you is to start by tackling you to the ground, play fighting or tickling you. Its like he can't just ask for a hug he has to play a game or trick you into it first...

🌼 Because he loves holding you and cuddling you and he loves kissing you too but he doesn't really know how to persue non-sexual affection without laughing it off and being unserious? The boy just wants a cuddle with his flower but he doesn't know how to ask because cuddling is "soft"

🌼 Definitely big spoon. Similar to Alfie, likes to have possesion of you, when youre wrapped up in his arms youre completely at his mercy and he can do whatever he likes to/with you.

🌼 Loves to tickle you and feel how with nowhere else to go you scramble and squirm further into his hold. And if he makes you jump even better because they you flinch and reach for something to hold onto, so you end up gripping his shirt or throwing your arms around his neck and clinging onto him just the way he likes it.

🌼 Isn't very good at tummy rubs alas, but thats because he can't get his head around the idea that pressing on your tummy when its sore, will help make you feel better "won't that just hurt more?"

🌼 Gives you lots of kisses though, will try to tease and tickle you to make you laugh and smile to distract you from the pain. I guess his cuddle style is playful.

🌼 Loves a naked skin to skin cuddle the best, likes to hold your bare body in his arms and draw patterns all over your skin as you fall asleep.

🌼 Lets you bite him very gently on the shoulder mid hug (one for the girls if u know u know)

🌼 9 times out of 10 cuddles with John lead elsewhere... Like, cuddling definitely puts john in a certain kinda mood

🌼 Oh you just wanted a nice sleepy cuddle? It might start off that way but after a minute or two of having his body pressed up against yours his minds wandered to... Places

🌼 Definitely does stuff like "got ur nose" just as you're drifting off and relaxing.

🌼 Surprisingly serious about your period, perhaps he wouldn't have been once, as a younger lad he'd have teased you or told you off for even telling him about that.

🌼 But he's a man now and he firmly believes real men need to take care of their woman, so he'll make sure you have everything you need. Will pretend to be embarrassed about having to go to the shops to get your period pads or whatever but actually doesn't care at all. He's only teasing you, trying to make you laugh at him by pretending to get really flustered about it.

🌼 His favourite thing to do is pick you up, sling you over his shoulder and then throw you down on the bed to cuddle you.

Bonnie

🍀 The cuddliest sweetheart you can imagine, always finding an excuse to give you a hug, always coming up behind you and making you jump when you're concentrating on something else, he'll wrap his arms around your waist and nuzzle into your neck, kiss your shoulder, just rest his chin on your shoulder or have his cheek pressed against yours.

🍀Loves having you sitting in his lap and will always choose a table at the Garrison with not enough seats for everyone so that he has an excuse to pull you into his lap. Really does just like to have a hold on you at all times. Even if you're not talking or interacting in any other way. He just likes to be physically near you.

🍀 Definitely similar to John, play fights, chases around the house/fields always just as an excuse to get his hands on you.

🍀Always pulls you in for a hug when you first see eachother/say hello. Will give you the tightest squeeze and lift you up off your feet.

🍀Loves carrying you, your legs around his waist, you holding onto him nice and tight, dependent on him.

🍀Dreams dreams dreams of the day you've lots of wee kids to cuddle with, the five of you getting huddled up and cosy in mammy and daddys bed for a bedtime story.

🍀When its you and him all cuddled up in bed for the night he likes to either be big spoon or have you asleep on his chest, his hand resting on your back. He often gets worried about the home being broken into or an attack in the middle of the night so he feels most comfortable when you're right there sleeping as close to him as possible. Means he can know you're safe as can be and he can be there to protect you.

🍀Loves naked cuddles, skin on skin, legs tangled, feels so close and warm and intimate and he's so in love with you, so devoted to you that he craves that closeness and only feels complete when he has you in his arms and he can feel your heartbeats sinking up.

🍀Will hold you/spoon you all night!!!! You will wake up wrapped in his arms and if you need to get out of bed for anything in the night sorry but Bonnie will not be letting you go without a fight. Loves to hold your head burried in his chest.

🍀 Probably not phased by your period and if he is he isn't going to show it at all. Doesn't like you being in pain at all and he's very good at giving you back massages and tummy rubs. He also knows that theres another way to help with period pain and he isn't scared of touching you when its your time of the month. (Bonnie and Aberama are the only two peaky men I think would finger you when you're on your period tbh, tommy might but I'm not entirely sure?)

🍀 Modern bonnie sends you a photo of the period aisle at rhe shops because he's confused but determined to get the exact right things for you.

🍀 He's always lowkey dissapointed when you get your period because that means no babies

Isaiah

🐀I think it probably takes him awhile to get particularly cuddly and affectionate. For all I imagine he's a tactile, flirtatious playboy type, I don't think he knows how to just hug it out or have soft sleepy cuddle you know?

🐀You probably initiate most of the cuddles, and he always tries to pull away before you're ready too, so you have to grip him extra tight and put up a fight...

🐀But then he gets a taste for that, feels good how you practically beg him for just a hug... You always ask him "Saiah can I have a hug please?" because unless you tell him you want to be hugged he won't think to do it... But he LOVES hearing you ask for that. "Saiah I wanna hug" when you're tired and whiny. He sometimes denies you just to make you ask again. "Say please love..." "God what am I to you? A fuckin hug dispenser?"

🐀He's always big spoon, because he's a fragile masculinity adolescent... He hasn't grown out of the complex of needing to be the man, so he's always the one cuddling you... He won't ever let anyone think he enjoys all that soft shit...

🐀But when no one is around he's actually very cute and sweet to you. Nose kisses all the time. A secret fan of the penguin kiss (where u rub noses idk?)

🐀I think he learns to be affectionate with you over time and is cuddly but mostly only in private. You have mastered the "hug me" eyes now and if you get them just right and you sit there looking at him like that for long enough he'll say "Right.. You've brought this on yourself y/n" as if you're in serious trouble, then he'll march over and sit himself in your lap squishing and crushing you until you can't breath for laughing. Only then will he give you a proper hug - but the cuddles are worth the torment you have to go through first.

🐀As bad, if not worse than john on the horny cuddler front. Is genuinely so confused about how he's supposed to tangle you up like that, bundled up against his chest so that every part of his body can feel every part of your body pushing against him, and not get turned on... A nice peaceful cuddle can become pretty heated pretty quickly. He'll feign innocence (sometimes he won't and he'll just slip his hand into your underwear and take you buy surprise) all his little caresses and kisses seemingly innocent at first but really, not at all...

🐀When it comes to your period Isaiah pretends he's man enough not to care, he'll screw his face up all "ew no way y/n fuck no..." then crack a grin and make out like he was only teasing you, but secretly he feels really awkward about it and doesn't know what to do. He'll panic at the shop, get annoyed when he buys the wrong thing and you send him back. But he's trying, he wants to be a good boyfriend so over time he'll do his best to learn.

Michael

☘️ Secret cuddler...

☘️ You have to work so hard to get him to trust you but once you secure his trust (once he knows you aren't going to laugh at him or tell his brothers what a sook he is) he will reveal his soft side to you and oh my god is he soft

☘️ He loves cuddling and being cuddled. Bug spoon, little spoon, sitting in an arm chair, picking you up and swirling you round, carrying you to bed for more cuddles, having you lie on his chest, him lying on your chest (secretly his favourite way to cuddle) any cuddling at all, he loves it

☘️ But his favourite is definitely lying with his head to your breast, your hand in his hair maybe giving him head scratches or playing with his hair, your legs closed around his body so that he's completely secure. He could fall asleep here so easily. He loves it. Especially after a hard day at the office or when his cousins are being particularly demanding.

☘️ He loves to cuddle you too, loves being big spoon when you're naked in bed, likes getting to hold you anyway he wants. Your legs tangled together, perhaps one of his hands holding your hands, kissing your shoulder, your neck, between your shoulder blades. He loves waking up in that position after a nap, the two of you nuzzled into one another.

☘️ Isn't awkward about you getting your period as such, he doesnt think its gross but he's very concious of social taboos so if you come right out complaining about period pain or saying that you've accidentally bled on your dress he'll turn such a bright shade of red. You always forget and it always makes you laugh.

☘️ Gets annoyed when you tease him about it

☘️ Is very worried that youre in pain. Worried too that you'll lose too much blood. It takes a lot to explain to him that you're not going to bleed out on your period...

☘️ Tries to dote on you but gets overwhelmed by all the demands and the things you need. Because he's so worried about getting things wrong or upsetting you.

☘️Won't give good tummy rubs or massages because he's too scared he'll hurt you. Will run you a hot bath and wash your hair for you.

#peaky blinders imagines #bonnie gold x reader #tommy shelby x reader #arthur shelby x reader #peaky blinders imagine #john shelby x reader #peaky blinders headcanon #alfie solomons x reader #isaiah jesus x reader #michael gray x reader #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders headcannons

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cannellee · 3 months

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HII!!! i’m literally in LOVE with your alpha mikey hcs!!! (^ ^) what if mikey has a super sweet and cuddly omega that can’t help but want to cling to him 24/7, she just can’t get enough of him! whenever she sees him she releases her super strong n sweet pheromones and chirps loudly as she runs up to him, her heart is so full of love for her alpha it feels like it’s gonna explode!! every time she sees mikey she just swoons for him🩷

TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ☆

୨୧ alpha! mikey x omega! reader

— his reaction to a cute and extremely in love omega

my masterlist : ☆

(I looved writing this, this was such a cute idea. I hope I quite did what you had in mind!)

mikey would actually be ecstatic to have such a cute omega by his side! he's used to the harshness of his lifestyle and violent confrontations all the time, emma being his only source of warmth. mikey grows so attached to you and he lets you know it by how affectionate he is with you.

seeing you being so desperate for his attention, literally crawling over his laps just to get head pats and his eyes on you only, he feels all weird. it's still mind blowing that you reach for him in every occasion, look for him first in crowds and calls his name so happily like that.

he doesn't think he deserves all that love, you would be better off with a more gentle alpha, who doesn't have tons of enemies waiting for an opportunity to rip his throat off. someone who can give you a stable life and never worry you because of his night meetings he'd rather keep you out of.

still, he couldn't imagine his life without you in it. you're such a bundle of joy, your mellow voice and big doe eyes always do something to him. he never refuses any of your requests. you can hold his hands, play with his hair, ask for his food... everything is yours. he might crack a joke or too about how smitten you are, supposedly trying to make you shy, but you only nod excitedly and agree with a big yes. how cute is his omega.

mikey absolutely loves being the center of your life, despite what he tries to tell himself. he's aware your whole world revolves around him and he's thrilled to see your eyes always on him, even when you're in bigger groups. he would never take advantage of your attachment for him, but he does like to see you immediately cut one of your conversations short when he calls your name : watching you whip your head so fast in his direction, flashing him a big smile. he has that strange sense of purpose and pride every time you do, his chest feels so hot, why did you even take an interest in him when you're this precious and desirable? any alpha would kill for an omega like you.

and your scent... mikey doesn't think he has ever smelled something this good in his life. everything about you reminds him of home in the best ways possible. he can't believe he's the one drawing such a sweet scent out of you. it always amplifies in his presence, when he praises you, hugs you or kisses your temple. he can't get enough of it and he feels so lucky your pheromones never subside when you're together.

the adoration is mutual, you can't even imagine a life without mikey either. he's so strong and reliable, how can you not love him ? he teases you in ways only he can make you blush, pervert hands grabbing your ass or dirty promises in the crack of your ears. mikey feels really privileged to be able to touch and hold you in such ways, to be this intimate with you. he does things he would break another's arm's off for even imagining them.

he wants to protect that laugh of yours and wishes you will always look at him with heart eyes. he wants to make you feel safe and comfortable around him, no matter what he does outside.

he's quiet about his fondness for you, but he makes it up by snatching you up by the waist, carrying you in his arms, spending the day cuddling with you, literally breathing nothing but your pheromones. he never complains about your little 'outbursts' of affection towards him. he lets you grab his wrist - where his scent glands are - and rubs it all over yourself to smell just like him. or when you ask for his clothes : you actually don't even have to ask anymore, he'll let them on display in his room for you to take.

he loves you so much, he cherishes the fondness more than anything he has. he would go lengths to protect you and keep you safe, nobody should ever dare lay a hand on you or even wish to hurt you. mikey might not see himself as deserving of his adorable omega, but it doesn't mean he'll just let you slip away for another to win you over. he'll change for the best, he's sure that with your unconditional support he can do anything!

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lxndonorris · 3 months

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cozy - Lance Stroll

Y/N x Lance Stroll Theme: Smutish, light touching you spend the day cuddling with Lance x word count: 1260+ taglist: @game-set-canet open for requests :)

As the soft glow of the bedside lamp casts a warm ambiance in the room, you and your boyfriend, Lance, find yourselves lost in the blissful cocoon of your shared intimacy. The comforting embrace of the bed seems to cradle you, and you can't help but lean your head against his chest, savoring the soothing rhythm of his heaving chest with every breath he takes.

Wrapped in the tranquil silence, he holds you close, and the world outside your haven fades away. There is an unspoken language in the way your bodies intertwine, creating a sanctuary of intimacy that words could not capture. His arms around you feel like a shield, protecting you both from the uncertainties beyond the bedroom walls.

However, as time passes, a subtle chill begins to permeate the air. Sensing your discomfort, Lance breaks your embrace with a tender smile and reaches for his hoodie.

In one swift moment, he takes it off, revealing another, thinner shirt underneath. "Here." He smiles softly and hands you the hoodie.

The fabric is soft and oversized, enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth as you gratefully accept his offering. It carries the comforting scent of him, a familiar blend that instantly makes you feel at home.

"Thank you," Blushing slightly, you enjoy how its fabric glides across your skin.

With the borrowed garment hugging you, a few sizes too big but perfectly cozy, you resume your cuddle. His gentle caresses trace patterns on your back, a rhythmic dance that mirrors the beating of your hearts.

You rest your hand on his chest, relishing the warmth and subtle rise and fall beneath your touch.

In that shared place, where the world is reduced to the proximity of your intertwined bodies, Lance leans down to kiss your forehead.

As you continue to bask in each other's presence, you express your anticipation with a gentle smile: "I can't wait to see you racing again."

You lift your head when his eyes soften and a subtle warmth of gratitude illuminates his gaze.

"I will do my best to get on the podium again," he promises, a commitment that resonates with the passion he holds for racing.

"I know, Lance." You smile, lean in, and kiss him softly. He embraces your lips on his own, and his stubble tickles.

As your hand continues to traverse his chest, you cannot help but smile again.

"I cannot wait to see you in that beautiful green suit again." You giggle as his body reacts to your gentle touch.

A playful spark flickers in his eyes, and he teases you with a raised eyebrow and a mischievous smile.

"Why is that?" Lance shakes his head slowly, his voice carrying a mixture of curiosity and enticement.

Leaning in closer, your lips just inches away from his, you bite your lower lip, holding back another giggle.

"You just look so good, babé." You say, kissing him in between words, making him smile so brightly.

He knew the answer already, but it makes him feel better hearing you say that. His arms wrap around you, pulling you in a little closer.

"You know we've got the fitting soon." Lance growls deeply, tilting his head slightly while still looking right into your eyes. His eyes are shimmering in the dim light, drawing you in closer, and you couldn't pull away even if you tried.

A playful glint dances in his eyes as he shares his plans: "I'll make sure to take plenty of pictures." He lifts his chin slightly and narrows his eyes as his hands run up and down your back.

"Especially in my fireproofs." His words carry a teasing undertone, and a warm smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. "I know you'll love that."

The idea of capturing those intimate moments, even in the context of a fitting, adds a new layer to your conversation. You always love seeing him in those tights, flattering his athletic physique. Especially those white ones are your weakness, and he is fully aware of the power he has over you.

Remembering the first time you saw him gives you goosebumps.

It was a few months into your relationship when he invited you to a race weekend. You had seen pictures of him, videos, and interviews, but it was nothing compared to the real thing. When he finally emerged in his racing suit, a wave of admiration washed over you. The sleek fabric clung to his body in all the right places, clinging to the contours of his athletic form.

You couldn't help but marvel at how good he looked—a vision of strength and determination. The suit not only encapsulated the essence of his sport but also added a touch of allure that made your heart race.

The fireproofs beneath the racing suit further emphasized his athletic build, creating a silhouette that exuded confidence and power. As he stood before you, ready for the upcoming race, you felt a surge of pride and admiration for him. With a swagger in his step, he approached you, hugged you, and kissed you. Since that day, he knew how much you loved him in that gear.

"You know me too well." With a sly grin, you intensify your gentle strokes across his chest, feeling his muscles, his pecs, and his abs tense slightly at every move of your fingers.

Carefully, you let your hand linger on his tummy, stroking him for a few moments before you trace his treasure trail further down his body to his crotch.

Lance leans forward, resting his head against yours with a soft smile.

As you stroke him, he starts to purr contently, embracing you in an even tighter hug.

Your hand runs up and down his thighs teasingly, while he places kisses on your forehead, your nose, and right on your lips.

"Lance, your beard is tickling me." You pretend to pull away, a giggle escaping your lips, but he persists, the teasing twinkle in his eyes growing more pronounced.

The two of you get more into the moment, and you feel his excitement growing against the palm of your hand. Once you intensify your strokes, he lets out a soft yet guttural moan, resting his head against the pillow underneath the two of you.

"Mhmm." He growls deeply, and while you keep on stroking him, you find yourself drawn to the details of his features. Your fingers trace the delicate path along his jawline, reveling in the subtle texture of his beard; it feels fluffly and soft, and you're glad he is growing a beard again.

"This looks so good on you." You express your admiration for his beard, as it has grown on you as much as it has grown on him.

"Thank you," Lance smiles, a blend of contentment and appreciation, as your fingers continue their exploration.

Now, you let go of him and run both of your hands across his firm chest—his training is paying off—before they slide underneath his shirt. Lance keeps working out in preparation for the season, as he must be physically and mentally ready for that many races, some under volatile conditions.

You're seeking the warmth of his skin; the touch of his soft skin beneath your fingertips sends a shiver of intimacy through you. As you wrap your arms around him in an intimate hug, Lance reciporates, embracing you fully.

His chest presses against yours, his arms hold you close, and he proceeds to kiss you again and again, so softly and lovingly.

Lance is humming quietly, taking many deep breaths, while you close your eyes, enjoying this moment.

#lance stroll x reader #lance stroll imagine #lance stroll x you #lance stroll x y/n #lance stroll fanfic #Lance stroll fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #Formula 1 smut #Lance stroll smut

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thegayestmferintown · 6 months

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How's about head cannons for the bishops + the Lamb

𝐀𝐥𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐲!!

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝

𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: 𝐍𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 (𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧)

𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞: 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐦𝐛

The Lamb has a habit of making dirt balls and throwing them at Narinder for fun.

This is practically canon and no one can change my mind.

Also, depending on when you come in the picture, they will leave little love notes for you.

The funniest part about the letters is that they don't leave a signature, they just write 𝐁𝐚𝐚𝐚 and you know it's them.

Despite being a lamb, they have the ability to watch people like a hawk.

And by that, I mean they have an incredible attention span, as weird as it may seem.

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐚

Shamura sews. A lot.

They could, and would, remake the entirety of all the bishops outfits by themself.

When they read, if you're in the picture, they prefer to have you sitting on their lap instead of at their side.

As odd as it may seem, kisses from Shamura are the best.

Shamura counts doors and windows when they're bored.

They'll go around their temple and count every door and every window.

𝐊𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐫

Kallamar loves to dance but is far too scared to perform in front of anyone, that includes his siblings.

He can draw, and well.

He'll sometimes wander into his siblings territories and draw what he sees.

Once you come into the picture, he has a habit of drawing you.

And pretty quickly, his sketchbooks become full of drawings of you.

Of course, he would only show you them if you asked, but besides that, you're never seeing them.

𝐍𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫/𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐖𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬

He bites The Lamb, a lot.

And it's not on purpose, it is a purely subconscious thing. And it's not a kinky thing either.

When you come into the picture, he is all over you.

Kisses and hugs galore. In private, of course.

He pouts when you have to leave, like. literally pouts.

Depending on how long you're gone, he'll be stubborn and pouty until he gets some sort of reassurance that you're not planning his demise.

𝐇𝐞𝐤𝐞𝐭

She needs help to change her bandages, she can't do it on her own.

There's been times when she's croaked and it hurt her throat badly to the point she didn't talk for the rest of the day.

Leshy also laughed at her for it and she beat his ass 🧍‍♂️

She has a habit of kissing your throat lightly.

Not your neck, under your chin where your throat is.

Cuddles are a must for her, obviously in private, but she's in need of a little love.

𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐲

Leshy, being the Bishop of Chaos, is.. well.. chaotic.

He will bite your ears out of nowhere and feel zero (0) shame.

His branches wiggle when he's happy.

If he gets extremely excited or extremely happy, there's a possibility they'll fall out.

And when they do, he'll just be dramatic and stare at the branch on the ground like someone's decapitated head just rolled toward him.

He will pick you up and you have no choice in the matter.

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kilibaggins · 3 months

Note

Your take on cuddling with the company? 🥺

Cuddling With Thorin's Company

A/N: I hope this is what you were looking for! Thank you for my first the hobbit request and I hope I did them justice <3

Warnings: None really! I don't go into detail about anything graphic or anything. Nori is said to be handsy (I go on to describe it's in a good way and not sexual and only with someone he's dating)

Words: 2113

Crossposted on Wattpad!

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate.READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

Fili

Very much a big spoon kind of guy, always just pulling you as close as possible and burying his face in your neck. The smell of you makes him feel comfortable and safe, a lot safer than he'd feel being held as a little spoon.

He'll randomly put his arm around your waist if you're all sitting around the campfire, using the cold as an excuse for it.

If you have hair he'd love to have his hand in it while giving you big hugs. His hugs are longer cuddle-like hugs that he uses to remind himself that he can keep you safe.

Uses your cuddles as a way to relax after a long day, especially if he ends up being king one day since he's the heir, and even as the heir he has a lot of responsibilities and it weighs him down so cuddling with you is his time to relax and feel like he can let go.

Kili

Kili is a little spoon or big spoon, depending on your and his moods. If you've had a close call he's one to pull you as close to him as possible and be your big spoon to make sure you're safe and okay. Holding you is one of his favorite things to do.

So Clingy, I'm not even kidding. An arm around your waist, a hand on your hip, a hand on your shoulder, his arm looped through yours, his legs in your lap, his HEAD in your lap, the company can bet every day they'll see some new way he's decided to cuddle with you even in front of them all.

If you're more of a secretive/in-private kind of person he'd cut back on the clinginess but sometimes he'd slip up and cuddle you randomly just to notice and pull back.

His favorite cuddling position is when he can lay his head in your lap and you're petting his hair. I have a headcanon he doesn't do much with his hair and doesn't like braids much but that doesn't stop him from LOVING his hair being played with and messed with. it makes him feel safe.

Nori

Kind of handsy, won't lie, but in a gentle way and only after you and him are fully together. His hands on your hips, hands holding your legs close to him in bed, etc. He's very much a "pulls you as close as possible even when you're already as close as you're gonna get" kind of guy.

"Nori, Nori, you're suffocating me, Nori-"

Will also cuddle you anywhere. He has been known to just pull you onto his lap, even If you're taller than him. Likes to pull you into his lap and, if you're the right height, rest his chin on your shoulder with his arms wrapped around your waist and his hands on your thighs.

Oh, a negative thing though, he steals the blankets. BUT only if he can't steal you. He'll choose you over the blanket for a cuddle sesh or at night but if you for whatever reason don't cuddle with him, expect to find yourself without blankets.

Ori

Slightly awkward at first but also very gentle and clingy. Doesn't like asking for the type of things he wants in any regard, let alone cuddling, and lets you take the lead. It takes you looking him in the eye and telling him to tell you what he wants to admit he wants to be held.

Though, after a while, he'd eventually just. ASK. Because as soon as he's comfortable with someone his anxiousness subsides to show his brave spirit.

He loves to sit up in bed with your head on his legs as he draws or writes. He likes to read to you as you lay down together. Cuddling with Ori is kind of like hugging a teddy bear.

Dori

Dori is a very gentlemanly dwarf so cuddling with him is always putting your feelings above his (which is something you two can work on). He's very willing to give you exactly what you want at any given moment.

A lot of "is this okay?"'s and "Are you cold?"'s. Uses your well-being as a big excuse a lot of the time because he cares about you a lot. If he's questioned on why you were in his bed roll the night before he'll tell everyone that it was cold! You were scared! You shouldn't have to be alone in this dangerous world, he had to protect you!

A very big mother-hen, and not only to his brothers, so it's very easy for him to come up with "excuses" to cuddle with you.

But really he just wants to.

Oin

Sometimes it can be hard to hear the things you say to him so when you're nice and close in bed it's one of the best times. He loves to hear you talk in his ear so he loves when you lay on your side with your face near his.

He loves to read your lips in this position, hearing you speaking and reading your lips helps him be able to understand you more outside of bed as well.

Your arm would be thrown over his side and his would be gently running up and down yours. Your legs would intertwine a lot.

He's not that cuddly anywhere other than in bed, usually, he prefers his space, but if he ever thinks you're under the weather he is THERE. or if he sees you're down for any reason he's also there, holding you, because in his own words he's a healer! and healers are meant to help in any way possible, and it's proven that physical affection can help.

Gloin

Gloin is a bear hugger. He will squeeze the living daylights out of you and laugh while he does it. Cuddling with him is like if you were cuddling with a living bear.

He's kind of possessive but less in a "you belong to me" way and more of a "I get to have you?" way. He's always burying his face in your hair, shoulders, neck, wherever he can just to get closer to you.

He's a guilty pleasure little spoon and it RARELY happens but when it does he says it's to humor you.

He'll cuddle with you at night around the company but he's not that much of a hands-on affection type of person. He'd rather show how much he loves you with acts of service or words than hold you.

Bifur

Bifur!! Bifur would be very much a secret cuddler. He wouldn't do it often, I think he might even get a bit overwhelmed with being held, but he'd love to sometimes be able to hold you and show you how important you are to him.

Especially if you can't speak Khuzdul, he'd feel the need to show you physical affection as a love language to show you how much he cares. If you see him with the axe still in his head, he'd be a bit... hesitant to hold you. He wouldn't want to accidentally hurt you with it.

I think he worries about not being able to give you what he "should be able to" so he often shows you love in cuddles whenever he can.

Bombur

BOMBUR IS A HUMAN (dwarf) PILLOW. He gives the best hugs 100% and loves to cuddle. He loves when you lay at his side and lay your head on his chest or stomach. He also loves to just cuddle into you like a cat.

If Ori is a teddy bear, and Gloin is a real bear, Bombur is one of those big teddy bears that you have no clue how to actually cuddle but instead, he has the pro of being able to cuddle YOU so there's less of a hassle!! Loves to just have lazy days where all you do is lay and cuddle.

Will 100% cuddle with you around the company but if anyone mocks or jokes about it he'll stop. (don't worry, he'll only stop for a little bit before picking it back up again. not even his kin can make him stop cuddling you.)

Cuddling by the campfire usually consists of you laying against his side and falling asleep but he doesn't mind.

Bofur

Bofur is such a cuddler oh my gosh !! He'd cuddle you constantly. He's a lot like Kili, wanting physical touch with you all the time but specifically his cuddles are so gentle.

He's had a rough life, and through it, he keeps a smile. When his smile finally falls, your cuddles are the only things that can get him happy again.

He likes to sing to you while you cuddle and his favorite position is your head on his chest, but he's open to other ones !! He's open to being a little spoon and enjoys it but I think a part of him prefers being able to hold you, which is why your head on his chest is his favorite because it feels like a mix of holding you and you holding him.

Dwalin

Dwalin doesn't seem much like a cuddler, and I think he'd definitely not do it in public, but he'd hold you at night. He's a personal space type of person so it's not all the time but he does! He'll pull you close to his chest and bury his face in your hair.

His cuddles are kinda clunky and rough, and he's always worried about hurting you, and he's a bit too strong for his own good so sometimes he squeezes too tight. Though, despite all that, if he's tired enough he'll just grab you and hold you without thinking. Sometimes those are the best nights where he lets you gently run your hands up and down his arms and lets you kiss him gently.

Those nights, when he's so tired that he's just dragging his feet and all he wants it to be with you are some of the best nights. Sometimes, and I mean very rarely, he'll let his head rest on your chest.

Balin

Balin is a cuddler but not a big one. Loves to hold you but isn't really clingy or enthusiastic like Kili, and overall just finds peace in it. If he's able to hold you it means you're alive and, to him, that's the greatest gift of all.

He's a calmer soul so a lot of the cuddles are just laying in bed with a few of your limbs intertwined and just relaxing after a long day.

He doesn't really like positions like little spoon big spoon or anything, he prefers to have his own space in bed which is why the points of contact are limited to arms and legs most of the time, but if you or he has a day he's willing to cuddle more closely.

Thorin

Thorin is a great big teddy bear underneath all the grumpiness. Very gentle, he treats you like that meme that says "gently holds". He's like a living furnace and shares his body heat happily.

He loves to sleep as close to you as possible, and he's a secret little spoon. He enjoys being the big spoon and probably won't ask to be the little spoon, but he will be one in a heartbeat. He loves to be in your arms or have you in his.

Technically this isn't cuddling but Thorin will wrap his coat around you and put his arm around your shoulders to keep it in place for you. Likes to pull you into his side/chest and wrap his coat around you while hugging you, too. Will 100% suffocate you without meaning to in his need to be close.

Bilbo

He keeps to himself, and because of that he rarely ever cuddles in public. Feels a little awkward if anyone can see him cuddling with you.

Due to his height sometimes he finds it hard to be the big spoon so he often ends up being the little spoon, which you won't find him complaining. He's very gentle when it comes to cuddles and is another one to put your needs first, though if he doesn't like something he WILL make sure someone hears about it.

"Your arm is in my side. Move. Y/N, Move."

"It's too hot." *he does not get up to move*

He may sound like a complainer but most of the time his complaints are small things that he chooses to ignore anyway, and you'll make him smile if you tease him about it. If your arm is in his side weirdly and he complains, you can just... laugh. and not move. and he'll shake his head with a smile.

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luveline · 11 months

Note

Hi Jade! First of all thank you for bringing back the zombie au, it is my absolute fave! Second, if you are taking requests for it currently, maybe r (with Robin maybe?) goes and finds a gift for Steve just to make him smile (which may or may not make him break into tears with how vulnerable and emotional he's been with all the stuff he's been through?) Thank you for all your lovely writing!

thank you anon! fem!reader, 8k —You, Steve and Robin make a risky trip for non-essentials to improve your quality of life at the camp. Steve's feeling stressed, you try to make it better, and Robin finds a cat in the display section of the mattress store.

tw for zombie apocalypse typical implied violence and gore, food insecurity, injury

"We'll call it something really cool," Robin says, "like Y/N and Robin's ultimate quest for cleanliness."

Robin is a little dirty today. She's scraped her hair back into a tiny ponytail, and it flicks out at the back of her head like a feather duster. You think it's adorable, and you lean around her shoulders to try and touch it. Steve pulls you back bodily.

"Stop touching her," he says.

"Just her hair," you say.

"No, because you know how ansty she is, it's like poking a sleeping dragon."

"Shut up! Shut up, loser, I haven't been antsy at all, I'm planning a girl's trip as we speak."

You laugh and fall back into Steve's arms, the kind of laugh that makes your chest feel tight and your eyes scrunch closed. A girl's trip is definitely one way to put it.

"I'm just saying," Steve says, not just saying at all, "that you're dangerous right now. Next time I'll let her touch your hair and you can bite her hand off."

"She can touch my hair. I don't know if you've noticed, Harrington, but that right there is my very best friend."

And okay, it's not true, Steve and Robin have the strongest friendship you've ever seen, but there is a truth behind it —you and Robin get along well. It would be difficult not to love her, she's a gem, and she cares about the person you care about most in the world at the same level (though in a different calibre).

You worm out of Steve's arms to give her a quick hug. Steve steals you away again and you laugh as you go, flopping your weight onto him and almost knocking him flat onto his back.

You, Robin and Steve are sitting around the campfire in the centre of camp. It's rather big and blissfully hot, the sky a velvet black that hides the smoke. Children sit with droopy eyes to the left, some with parents and most without, though the community is full of good people with great hearts who've swooped in to help look after them. Already, an older woman named Matildhe seems to have gathered a brood of six children, all young, and all wanting cuddles. To the right, Jeremy Livingstone and Joyce Byers plan the unplannable, a map of Michigan at their feet held down by stones. Jonathan sits by his mother's legs with a baby in his lap, her sleeping face pressed to his chest. He taps her back absent-mindedly. "What about here?" he asks, drawing a circle with his finger. Will, his younger brother, moves the flashlight beam to follow his direction.

Despite the fire, the wind bites at your backs, a nippy chill. Steve has solved this by becoming your windbreaker, or so he claims.

"She loves me," you murmur.

"I love her," Robin agrees.

"That's why you can't come on our girl's trip," you say.

"Girls," Steve says, measured, "I'm unsure, but I'm starting to think that you think you're going somewhere without me."

"No, we know you'll crash the party. But we're going to pretend you aren't there," Robin says.

Her chipper attitude makes you laugh for the millionth time tonight. Steve laughs in tandem behind you, his breath fanning warmly over the shell of your ear.

It smells like woodsmoke and pine needles meshed together here, two smells that alone are nice but together give you a headache. You wrinkle your nose and sit up properly, worried about squashing Steve or hurting his bad knee. "The smell is so strong out here," you say.

"Shit, this guy bothering you?" Steve asks, pointing his thumb at the fire.

"Kick his ass, Steve," Robin says.

"Are you losers drunk?" Dustin asks.

You twist on your butt to face him, Steve's favourite sixteen year old standing in the dark wearing two coats and three scarfs.

"Are you cold?" Steve asks. "Come and sit with us."

"We aren't drunk, just happy," you say, gesturing for him to do as Steve said.

Dustin sits by the fire with you, groaning. "What is there to be happy about?"

You bite your top lip. Dustin is so young, and he's lost a lot. More than he ever should've had to lose, twice, his sense of normalcy destroyed. You don't blame him for being depressed over what is possibly the most traumatic thing he will ever have to experience. You don't want to offer him empty platitudes or tell him how to feel, and Steve doesn't want to either, but he can't watch him mope. He loves him too much.

"Dusty," he teases, "don't be so down. Haven't you seen this glorious and ridiculously enormous bonfire we have going on?"

"I see it," Dustin says from behind gritted teeth.

"Hey, do you want to sleep in our tent tonight?" Steve asks, a tad more seriously. "It's warmer with more people, and it's not as crowded as you think it'll be."

"No, thanks."

"You could drag your tent closer," you say, quieter, trying not to smother him or embarrass him with parenting he never asked for.

"I don't like being near the boundary. You guys might be okay with ending up as geek chow but the rest of us have common sense."

"Well, we didn't really have a choice there," Robin says.

Which is true. The kids all get to sleep in tents close to the fire, and the adults are a row behind. You guys aged out of the kids category a long time ago, so you're the ones who'll be eaten first, but you're also the ones who'll hear the can alarms when they ring on the tripwires first.

Steve sleeps with his baseball bat anyhow.

You disentangle yourself from Steve's grips and meet his eyes. He doesn't need you to tell him, but you give him a look that hopefully says, Maybe you should talk to him. Eyebrows raised gently, lips pursed.

Steve sighs like he's preparing himself and shuffles around you. He doesn't begrudge Dustin needing cheering up, you know that. He probably just wishes he could offer Dustin more than, "We have food and water and a place to pee."

Robin crawls right to your side and sets back on her haunches. "Here's what I think we should do."

"Wait, you don't wanna wait for Steve to explain?"

"Nope, he'll say no. Me and you have to find the best way to sell it so we can actually go."

"You aren't kidding about the girl's trip?"

"Nope. Look, the situation is dire. We know where the mall is, we've been there tons of times. The whole group can't go and we don't trust most people to keep us alive anyways, so me, you and Steve will go. We'll sleep there or something too, so there's no pressure on us to rush back and stress out Steve."

"Wouldn't it be safer to hurry back?" you ask.

Robin hums. "Maybe. Uh, if we travel at night like I've been thinking about doing I don't think we could hurry back."

"At night?"

"We're basically nocturnal at this point." You dip your head toward her mildly. She drops the slight facade she'd had, "I would feel better. If we went at night."

The College, the community you and your group had inhabited until recently, was attacked and destroyed by raiders. They were likely drawn by the black smoke of the small bonfire in the quad of the campus, lit to celebrate a quasi-thanksgiving. It wasn't supposed to end up the way it had.

Robin got attacked. Steve was there to help her get away uninjured, earning himself a black eye. She can't sleep if she's by herself anymore. You hate yourself for not being there to protect them.

She's afraid of being attacked by people rather than geeks now. Travelling at night increases the likelihood of dying via geek (you can't see them, they can smell you), but it vastly decreases the chance of meeting other people. It makes sense that a night time excursion is her preference.

You just don't know how you feel about it, and you have no clue how you might convince Steve to go along with it.

"So you want us to hike to the mall at night. Is it on the map? Where even is it?"

"I don't remember the name, Steve'll know it 'cos we've been there, but what matters is that I know for a fact there's a fancy soap store. I need soap, Y/N. I can't take this anymore. And if I don't brush my teeth soon I'm going to scream, my finger can only do so much."

Occasionally three of you take a pea sized dollop of paste and rub it over your teeth in an effort to feel less disgusting, the same way that you wash with a rag and cold water behind the treeline, and dunk your clothes in the river without detergent. Water is a good cleaner, but eventually there's a funk in the clothes that can't be washed out without soap, or Robin's current issue: oily hair.

Without soap and toothbrushes, you feel about as disgusting as a person can feel. If you don't make this trip soon, you'll be in the exact same boat as Robin, one bad stain away from screaming.

"And the fancy soap shop definitely has soap?"

"Definitely. And there's a department store with blankets, too. We could really improve the quality of our miserable lives."

"You don't have to convince me," you say, though it might not hurt in actuality. You're hesitant to leave the camp, but if Robin's leaving she can't go without Steve (who would never let her go alone), or you, because you refuse to be separated from Steve (or her, honestly). "It's Grim Fandango who needs greasing." Grim being Steve.

Steve has managed to wrap an arm around Dustin. You're half-expecting Dustin to be wriggling under his touch, desperate for an escape, a teenage boy allergic to both sincerity and affection, but Dustin's dissolved like jello powder in boiling water, totally slouched into Steve's side. Steve's hand runs the younger boy's upper arm briskly.

"It'll be okay, dude, I promise. We've come this far," Steve says.

"I'm just tired," Dustin says quietly.

"Maybe we should sell it, as uh, an enrichment trip," you suggest to Robin. "We can get stuff for the kids, some board games or something." They need an escape.

"I miss my books," Robin says.

"Holy shit, me too. Steve says you can tell the plot of every Agatha Christie novel from memory, is that true?" you ask.

"Only the good ones. Can I lie down on you?"

You let Robin lie down with her head on your thigh. It can't be comfortable but maybe it's better than the floor, or maybe it's just nice to be close to someone. You like having Robin with you. You'd been so apprehensive of her when you met, not because she was Steve's best friend —though that did worry you to some extent— but because you had trust issues to the neck and she was the first person beside Steve to be nice to you without motivation. In this world, that doesn't check out.

"What ones do you know?"

"Murder on the Orient Express?" she offers.

"Okay. Set the scene, Buckley."

Steve returns just after the detective finds out that Ratchet has been murdered. "I love this part," he says.

"Then let me tell it."

Robin spins for a while, but you peel away from the fire before you're too tired to stand and retreat to your makeshift tent. It's a tarp held up by two sticks and a blanket on the floor, but it works to keep away the rain and most bugs. There's not quite enough room for you three, but there's also literally no other option, and none of you mind. You squeeze in like tinned sardines, sleeping in your coats and shoes.

In the morning, you and Robin attempt to sell your idea to Steve over lukewarm oxtail soup. You and Steve share. Robin had to tip half into a bowl for someone else. The rationing is going okay.

You could've ended up with a can of garden peas, or chopped tomatoes.

"It's actually better if it's only us, you see, because we can sneak around and it'll be much quieter. And they don't need us here right now, everything's settled. And me and Y/N want to so we should."

Steve wraps your hand around the can of soup so you don't touch the hot bottom. He doesn't look like he's even remotely listening to Robin, his eyes on your face and his hands not far behind. He neatens you up, so to speak, scratching a little dirt speck from your cheek and folding the rolled collar of your shirt. "This," he says finally, his hand curling behind your neck, "sounds like a very bad idea."

You shudder happily as he starts to scratch your neck down to your shoulders. "Steve, what's bad about it? We'll be like the Three Musketeers, travelling in darkness, a mission for the people."

"Did you ever read that book?" Steve asks, his hand dropping to your shoulder, where it stays for a reverent second. You look gross and he still wants to squeeze you.

"No," you admit, lips on the sharp edge of your soup. You take a careful sip.

"We get there quickly, spend a night on the mattresses at the department store, and… Hey, why don't we go live in the mall?" Robin asks.

The idea of a real mattress is seductive, but not that much.

"Because we don't want to paint a huge target on our backs?" you ask.

"I'm kidding." Robin peers down at her soup unhappily. "I really hate oxtail."

Steve noticeably flickers. He meets your eyes, and you think he's speaking to you in his head. Fucking hell, I can't believe what I'm about to agree to.

"If you can convince Mrs. Byers to delegate us an actual weapon, then okay, fine, we can go to the mall." He stretches out his mostly healed knee and rubs it with both hands. "Fuck. A knife. Actually, I want each of us to have a weapon. So if you can somehow magic that into being, we can go."

"I don't see why we even had to ask permission," Robin jokes, "like it's the sixties or something." She springs up to her feet, forces her oxtail soup into the hands of one of the preteens by the fire, and beelines for the small crowd of kids surrounding one much taller Joyce.

"You'd still come with us even if you didn't want to," you say.

"Yeah, obviously. Robin's right, this isn't the sixties. That being said, if it was a worse plan, I'd tie you to a tree."

"I could be into that," you tease, pleased when he scoffs through a laugh. His elbow drives into your side. "Stop, fiend."

"No, fiend. Take the force of my elbow." He nudges you.

You elbow back. He elbows harder. You potentially give him a bruise and feel extremely bad when he "Oofs," aloud.

"Sorry," you say, climbing up on your knees to put your arms on his shoulders. "Sorry, sorry, sorry."

He shoves you away from him and you're evil, you're selfish, you want him to dote. You fall flat on your back in the dirt and grass, covering your smile with the crook of your elbow so he doesn't immediately know you're fine.

"Shit," he cusses, kneeling between your legs, moving to hover over you. "I didn't mean to knock you down…" He sees your smile. "You lying conniving trickster."

You smile harder, lips pressed together and your chest light as a feather for the first time in days, until suddenly he's squished on top of you and pressing down. "Ow," you fake, wriggling away from him. "I think there's a twig in my brain."

He wriggles with you. "You suck, you made me think I hurt you."

"Don't be a wuss, I get hurt all the time, how do you even know I'm not hurt?"

He sighs all quiet and lifts your head off of the grass. "I can't see through your hair," he says, "did it actually hurt?"

You take his face into your hands. Your fingers are very cold, but he doesn't flinch.

"I'm messing with you, H."

"When did that nickname catch on?"

You rub his cheeks with your thumbs. Fingers behind his ears, you smooth over his short scratchy stubble affectionately. Quick, you lift your chin and touch your lips to his. It's hardly a kiss.

He leans down slowly and makes it a better one.

"Stop," Robin says, kicking you in the ribs. She isn't cruel about it, more of a toe touch.

"Oh, hi, that was a quick rejection," you say, frowning.

Robin beams. "Actually, we've been approved. One knife apiece and a request for children's clothes. Get packing!"

She whizzes off in another direction, seemingly to pack and gather the allocated weaponry.

Steve drops his chin back down to you.

"Does she have secret things we don't know about?" he asks.

You scratch his scalp, "Mm… I'm not supposed to tell you."

He sits up. You frown.

"She really has a secret stash?"

"No, Steve," you laugh. "No, of course she doesn't. Where would she hide them?"

Steve yanks you up by the arm playfully. You pretend to fight him, but it's no use. You'll do anything he wants you to.

—

Steve didn't necessarily think that a hike through the outskirts of an infested city would be easy, but he also hadn't realised it would be this boring. Especially a trip he's already made in the past. Boring and kind of hard.

It's not because you aren't capable —you might've taken a hit when The College collapsed, but you've mostly recovered, and your endurance is good. You have the best survival skills you've ever had, and Robin is similarly ready for whatever it is that might get thrown at you. Too bad preparation doesn't make you a ninja.

He isn't at his peak and he was no man of steel beforehand, and although he was good enough to keep you both alive, he's not sure if it's still true. Plus, he wasn't expecting to feel so moody.

You're marching on like a true warrior next to him, your hand around his wrist and swinging gently, your eyes on the ground. Steve's flashlight carves a weak path through the dusk. Soon, it'll be completely dark, and that's when he imagines his worrying will reach a fever pitch.

For now, he tries to be chill.

"Is my hand not good enough for you?" he asks.

"I figure you can pull away from me quicker if you need to if we're not, like, sewed together."

"You have weird hands," Robin interjects. "They're big. I wouldn’t hold them either.”

"That's why they're nice hands, Robin," you say. "Well, maybe they're just nice because I love him."

"I love him. Mostly. He still has weird hands," she says.

"You don't get it," you say.

You wrap your arms around his bicep and hug it quickly before backing away again. He thinks you kiss his coat, but he really can't tell.

"I don't think I want to get it," Robin says.

You're quieter when you ask, "Is that really true? You don't want to be in love?"

In the dark, and at night, it's quiet. It's nearly always quiet everywhere you go nowadays, but it feels immense this far from the camp. Steve is on edge. Too distracted for heart to hearts. But he wants to know the answer too, so he stays nice and quiet.

"I love that you're in love," Robin says lightly. "And I love you both. But I've seen you guys when you think you're going to lose each other, and surviving is hard enough without… that."

You let your hand slide down to his hand, your palm flat to the top, not holding it but holding him.

Steve clears his throat. "It's worth losing my mind every time she decides to wander off because of the peace she gives me when we're together."

"The peace?" Robin asks. She sounds like she wants to be incredulous but his sincerity has tripped her up.

"I'm with her and…" He can see the side of your face in the flashlight. You're smiling shyly, your gaze on the grass beneath your shoes. Footsteps rustle in the gap of his words. "I don't want to be anywhere else as long as she's there."

"It sounds like a toothache," Robin says.

"You know, I used to get bad toothaches all the time before we found you, and Steve made me a teeth guard out of a leather armchair with a pen knife and a needle and thread."

"Did you just make that up? Trying to convince me about the magic of love?" Robin asks.

"No, he really made it for me, I used to keep it in my nightstand," you say. He can hear your smile.

He made it because watching you cry from toothache left him feeling powerless. A guy who'd never even held a needle and thread before bent over his lap with a flashlight in the hours while you slept until his eyes burned because watching you sniffle made him feel sick. He can't describe the ache of it, loving you but not having kissed you, or even really told you, his girl so stressed at night your jaw had locked tight and you were reduced to whimpers each morning. Having to watch you pretend it wasn't happening until you couldn't, until you broke down crying with your hand wrapped around his wrist like it is now. Sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Steve, I just– I want– I don't know– I can't–

He was useless. He was stupid. He could barely bring himself to rub your back because he thought another touch might knock you over.

Calm down, honey, he'd murmured. Just calm down.

He never could've imagined seeing you cry like that before he did. You couldn't move. You explained it like a headache when words became feasible again, which, Steve's had headaches; concussive migraines that were white hot and everywhere. So he could imagine it even if he'd never felt it, and there wasn't a single thing he could do about it. Willing to try anything, he'd even wondered if he could pull your tooth out himself. Mouth surgery is prone to infection, and he couldn't face levelling that amount of pain onto you personally. So rather than fix the tooth, he'd have to fix the stress. He couldn't fix the stress, so he looked for anything at all to ease the pain. Ibuprofen, codeine, even a course of antibiotics. And then, finally, the leather mouth guard. Leather stacked and sewed with sanitised, loving hands.

"It's weird what that kind of love can bring out of you," Steve says quietly, matching the surroundings. "I did a great job. I'm a seamstress."

Robin pretends to throw up generously and noisily. Steve shushes her. You, in a very good mood with no signs of calming down, laugh behind your hand.

"I can make you another one," he offers. He hadn't thought about it yet, but of course you don't have it anymore. Anything in your nightstand is lost forever.

"You might need to. I'll be a stressed mess all over again if we don't find some socks, I can feel my ankle bone piercing the back of my shoes," you say. No socks either.

Robin's flashlight turns quickly to the right. You and Steve flinch at the same time to guard the other, peering in the exposed direction. There aren't many trees around here, so all to be seen is yellow-green grass and empty air.

"Sorry, I got the heebies," Robin says. "Maybe it was your disgusting declarations of love."

"Hardy-har. Where the fuck do you think we are right now?" Steve asks.

"Wait, you don't know?" you ask.

"You have the map," he says back.

"Oh, right. But how do we navigate in the dark? We don't have a compass."

"I have the compass!" Robin announces.

"From where?" you ask.

"How did you think we'd get there in the dark, angel?" Steve asks you genuinely.

He doesn't have time to wonder if it's okay to call you angel. He's never done it before, but it felt right in the moment. You're kind of like an angel, protective and sweet and a symbol for goodness.

"I thought because you guys already knew where it was– we– we set off while it was still light! I assumed we'd just walk straight."

Steve and Robin laugh at you, but not without love.

You pretend to sulk for a while, though you shine your flashlight at the map when he asks, your arm threaded through his and face leaning on his shoulder. "I'm so confused," you mumble.

"Don't worry. I know where we are now," he says.

"No, I know where we are too, but I'm confused as to why I thought this was a good idea."

"This is a good idea because I've had greasy hair for two weeks and I feel like a worm," Robin says. "And we need blankets, and moisturiser, and to feel like real people."

Steve has a better list than that. He needs moisturisers for your cracked hands, antiseptic for the healing cut on your thigh. He needs shaving foam or at the least a goddamn razor, a new shirt, you both need underwear and you're in dire need of shoes that fit. He wouldn't mind a compression support for his knee, a pair of scissors, and most of all a box of cigarettes —a quick trip to the pharmacy would fix a lot of problems.

"I feel pretty real."

"You're real pretty," Steve says quickly.

"Yes! Oh, yes! Kiss?" you cheer, delighted at his swift wit.

Steve knows —he knows— you're putting on a brave face for him. He cried on your shoulder and you haven't cried since. You're being the strong one. You're trying to make it work.

You've always been the strong one. Steve has taken care of you so many times; held your hand in torrential rain when you were too tired to go on; scrambled through rotten floorboards to find you on your back and unconscious, fed you water in your sleep half-worried you were dying and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He's fought for you, the dead and the living —he would do worse for you. But you've done the impossible, surviving every ache and pain, coming back from things he didn't think you would. You crawled through glass for him. You stumbled in the dark bleeding and exhausted to do as he asked, to meet him at the end of an endless day.

He gives you the kiss you asked for. There's only one clue that you aren't as happy as you seem. Your breath catches as he leans down, like you thought he might not give you one after all.

It takes you hours to get there and way longer than you thought. You don't realise you're upon it until the grass turns to roads under your feet, and the road turns to parking lot. There's a shattering of glass spread over the floor like a spilled bag of salt that crunches under your shoes. Steve grips your elbow and the three of you creep inside past the doors. They're open, which is bad and good. Bad because someone's been here since the last time, and might still be inside. Good, because Steve's not sure any of you have the energy to open them.

"I don't think I have to say this, but please, let's whisper from here," Steve suggests.

"Damn, do we have to?" Robin whispers. "I was just about to start my rendition of Singing in the Rain."

You laugh through your nose.

"We'll go up to the bedding store, okay? And we'll grab some blankets, and then we'll find a storage room and barricade ourselves in."

"Steve, I wanna sleep on a mattress," Robin whines.

"But we don't know who's here," he says. "Buckley, I swear, I'll carry a mattress back to camp for you if that's what you want, but we have to live to see the morning first."

"It's not like we haven't done it before," you say, nudging her gently. "Can we go back to whispering? I'm really nervous. I don't want to attract anything."

"Sorry," Robin whispers.

Being outside in the dark had felt horrifying but mostly manageable. Being inside is terrifying too, and though your flashlights make it easy to navigate now that there's walls for the light to reflect off of, it's scarier knowing this is an enclosed space. You can only run so far in either direction.

Your fingers twist in the corner of his hoodie. He doesn't say anything. For a split second, he remembers you doing it in the past, before he'd even thought about kissing you, when you were scared and he was more angry than anything else (though not usually at you). He'd pretend he didn't feel it. He was a bitch but he was never cruel, and if you needed to scrunch the hem of his jacket in your hand to feel better then that was alright.

"You okay?" he murmurs.

"I'm okay. I think my cut is weeping."

"What?" he asks, head clicking as he turns to you. "Since when?"

"Not sure, it just feels weird, like it's wet."

"This is the kind of thing I'd love to know." Steve sighs. "The bedding place is up here somewhere. You can let me take a look at it."

You, Steve and Robin walk up the frozen escalators, your footsteps making banging metal sounds that echo through what feels like the entire mall. Hackles raised, Steve ushers you both into the bedding store, pulling Robin by the sleeve before she can stop to deliberate over blankets to the very back of the store where a door demarcates the Staff Only room.

"Listen," he whispers, "we are going to go in there back to back, just like we always do. Robs, I promise, as soon as I've checked her leg, I'll help you do whatever you want. Cool?"

"My leg is fine."

"If it gets infected, I know for a fact there aren't any antibiotics here," he says. They've looked. "We have to stay in front of it. Are you ready?"

"Steve, we're not amateurs," Robin says. She hums. "Okay, I might be, but you owe Y/N some respect."

"No, I'm an amateur."

"You're not an amateur," Steve says. "Girls, please."

"Can we veto 'girls'? I want to be dudes," Robin says.

"Robin–"

"Okay, okay! Let's do it."

—

You wake up with the driest mouth in the world, your head bumping from hunger and bad sleep —the floor still feels like the floor, no matter how many pillows you have— to sounds just outside of the door.

You hike up on elbows and feel your heart climb into your mouth. Steve's hand is on your neck, and Robin's foot is over your calf, and this is a very bad time to be locked in, especially weighed down as you are by fleece blankets.

"Steve," you whisper, blindly reaching out with your own hand. You accidentally smack him in the face with the base of your thumb. "Oh, shit, sorry. Steve, there's something outside."

He's impressively alert when he opens his eyes. He couldn't have been sleeping deeply. "What kind of something?" he whispers back, sitting up.

He pushes the blankets away and climbs onto his knees. The noise happens again, quickly followed by a smash and a third sound like a thump.

Robin flinches awake next to you. You put your hand on her shoulder, hoping it says, Hey, it's fine, you're fine.

"Where's your bag?" Steve asks you, standing up tall.

It's disgusting, but you're holed up in the employee bathroom. As far from the toilet and sinks as physically possible but with a buffer from the door. Staying in a storage closet hadn't been possible, the staff room door hanging off the hinges enough to not close, and the storage room a medium space crammed to bursting with mattresses and shelves of sheets that wobbled threateningly when touched.

Your bag is somewhere under the blankets. You scramble onto your knees and search for it. You'd put your things away for the sake of neatness. Silly move.

"Here," you say, pulling out a flashlight for Steve. He takes it into one hand, pen knife in the other unsheathed. "It's probably a geek."

"Yeah. Can you put your shoes on?" he asks, not unkindly.

You shake yourself and do as he asks you to. Robin helps you up. Steve creeps to the door, waiting for you both before he opens it into the main floor.

"I don't think we need the torch," Robin says.

Daylight illuminates the room through the windows set in the west wall. You all squint and step out, arms in defensive positions, treading softly so as not to be heard.

Another thump. You can't hear footsteps, exactly, just the occasional, irregular thump. Geeks are usually noisier. Dragging steps. They'll walk into walls if they're following a specific scent.

Steve turns to you both and raises his eyebrows. Brace yourselves.

He hits the butt of the knife into the wall three times.

Nothing shows itself. You stand frozen for a few minutes anyways, even when Steve and Robin decide they want to venture further into the room and scope out the place. You watch their backs, heart still pounding and with no signs of stopping.

“Oh, fuck,” Steve curses.

“What?” you and Robin hiss at the same time.

“Come here. Y/N, come over here,” he says, like you aren’t already half-way across the floor to meet them.

Steve gestures at a showcase bed with velvet purple sheets. They’re not even dusty, no signs of time or wear, nothing to speak of a different age. Nothing, that is, beside the dead bird on the pillowcases, and the carpeting of fur surrounding it. It's odd for Steve to point you towards any gore, and you're a tad shocked, until he takes your forearm in his hand and pulls you in front of him. "See?" he murmurs.

He points to the pillow. You follow his finger.

Robin speaks first. Correction, Robin squeaks first.

"Is that a cat?" she asks, all the excitement of her discovery squashed tightly into a frankly impressive whisper-shout.

Robin refuses to move after that. She begs Steve for some of the dried jerky (of unknown origin and animal) from the rucksack and lays down on her stomach when the tugged tabby you've found flees beneath the bed frame. "Here, kitty," she murmurs, her gentlest tones. "Come on, killer, I need your help."

Steve nudges you.

"Oh, you're talking to me?" you ask Robin.

"I need your help," Robin insists, looking at you from over her shoulder. Her hair is limp around her face, her cheeks flushed red with excitement. "She has to know we're all friends."

"Watch my back?" you ask Steve.

He sits on the end of the bed, "Don't have to ask."

You set down carefully next to Robin and peer under the bed for the tabby. Your arrival has scared her half to death.

"Maybe she's only used to seeing geeks," you say.

"Maybe she thinks we're geeks," Robin says agreeably.

"Me and Steve found a dog once, but he wouldn't let us touch. He begged for food and then he ran away," you say.

"The dog wouldn't let you touch him, or Steve wouldn't let you touch the dog?" Robin asks, waving the jerky around.

"A bit of both."

"Kitty," Robin sings.

"Oh, god, this is comfy as fuck," Steve mumbles, laying down in bed. "Robin, you have to get up and watch your six, babe."

You and Robin laugh in sync and aloud at his 'babe'. It's you who stands and continues taking mild guard. You're not worried about intruders anymore, thinking that any company would have presented itself already, but you like keeping them safe. You take check of every corner of the room, spinning in the world's slowest circle. Robin baby talks to the cat under the bed while offering scraps of jerky. Steve, having curled away from the bird, lets his fingertips brush your thigh each time you turn.

"Getting dizzy?" he asks.

"Yes. And hungry, too, which is a weird feeling together. Can I have some of the jerky?"

Steve offers the bag. "If you're hungry, eat what you want, but if you can keep it to a little portion just in case we can't find anything else, honey…"

You stop spinning so much to eat jerky. You eat more than you should, you hunger a cruel, sharpened thing that jabs from your stomach and up into your diaphragm. You hand Steve back the bag before you can eat someone else's share and decide to focus on the other negatives in your life, like your shoes.

"Can we look for shoes soon?" you ask.

"Yeah, honey," Steve says. Honey, honey. His voice is soft with an ever-present fatigue.

"I don't think this cat likes me very much," Robin says, still singing.

"She's just scared. Maybe if we leave and come back again she'll realise we're friendly," Steve says.

"Yes sir." Robin stands, brushing herself down. "Oh, ew, Steven, how can you lie there? You know the cat's probably spayed all over that bed, right?"

Steve springs up. "Okay, ew."

“It’s okay,” she says. “Let’s go get some new clothes.”

It’s harder than it should be. The three of you move from store to store on high alert for what has to be an hour, searching for practical, fitting clothes. The time for modesty is over, and you take turns changing in front of one another while the others make sure you aren’t about to become naked geek feed. You’re so unclean that putting clean clothes on feels wrong, but you do it anyhow. You double back to the store with suitcases and bags and fill a suitcase to bursting point with the clothes that Joyce requested for the children. You sit yourselves down at some point, always exhausted, to try on sneakers. The relief of finding and changing into a pair that fits cannot be understated. When you’re sure there’s at least pants and a sweater for every child, you pack up and head for the fancy soap shop.

Robin is ecstatic. Ideally, you can all carry one bag on your shoulders and pull one suitcase, so you each fill a bag with soaps and brushes and powders, figuring that if you find food or medication worth carrying you can empty one of the bags rather than double back.

“I’m sorry we didn’t actually sleep on a mattress,” Steve says.

Robin shrugs nonchalantly, kicking aside an empty helium tank with her foot as you pass by a card and gift store. She’s grown less happy as time goes on, unsatisfied with the day's events. Finding nice soap hadn’t felt important with no water around to use it. The cat was rabid, you’re all living off of jerky and river water, and now you have to hike home again in the dark, hours of fear and tenseness.

“I miss your car,” Robin says.

You hadn’t ever been in Steve’s car, but you say, “Me too.”

“Maybe we should find a real tent,” Steve says, apparently not listening.

“Isn’t that kind of mean?” Robin asks.

“I mean, if the others wanted a tent, they could’ve come.”

“I don’t think it's mean,” you say. “But I don’t see how we can carry it.”

“I can carry it,” Steve says. “Just a small one. Big enough for us.”

“Does us include me?” Robin asks.

Steve laughs. “Duh, it includes you. It’s Y/N that’s gonna have to sleep outside.”

“Or me and her can have the tent and you can be our watchdog.”

“We can’t, um, stay outside forever, right?” you ask quietly.

Steve puts his arm over your shoulder for a quick squeeze. “No, we can’t. We’ll find somewhere permanent soon. There’s barely any geeks the more we get into Michigan, who knows. Maybe there's none at all up top. But…" He lets you go. "I'll find somewhere."

"Steve, you sound ridiculous," Robin says. "'I'll find somewhere,'" she quotes, voice deepened.

Robin might joke, but you feel reassured by Steve's promise. You keep your head up for the rest of the day.

—

Later, much later, when you've travelled back to the camp with aching everythings and taken the world's coldest bath in the river nearby, you, Robin and Steve pitch your brand new tent and near collapse. It was night when you finally reached the camp that day, and so it was morning by the time you laid down. Steve has to admit that bathing and building a tent in the dark had been fun, annoying and indicative of the situation but a pleasure anyhow, to hear his favourite people in the whole world trying not to shriek at the cold water, overjoyed and laughing as you finally washed your face with real soap, and terrified that the river would knock you down.

You're shaking with the cold now in his arms, practically sitting on his thigh as you brush his still damp hair back from his eyes.

"I can't believe you're still cold," he says, kissing the line of your jaw affectionately.

Robin, despite hours without sleep, had volunteered to help Sarah corral the younger kids for some early breakfast. Steve thinks it's because she likes Sarah. Your theory was that she's generous enough to give you a half hour of privacy. She's good like that.

Whatever it is, you're alone for the first time in days. It's no different than when you're with friends, only you're touchier and Steve's an honest fool.

You wrap one of your new blankets tighter around your shoulders and shift. "Am I hurting you?"

"Nope." He squeezes you tightly to his front. "You're shivering. Put your hands under my shirt."

You do it quickly, smiling like he's given you the world. "'Member when you'd let me do this? Even when we weren't really dating?"

"We were dating," he says.

"What, before or after the taco truck incident?"

"Before," he says sharply. He pauses. "Alright, maybe not then. But we were definitely dating when you'd put your hands in my shirt. You don't do that for just anyone, I'm not a run around."

"Steve, you used to let me sleep in your lap. Like, a month after we met."

"'Cos you get so damn cold," he says. You're still shivering. He rests his cheek against your neck. "If I didn't let you, you'd spend the whole night shivering and making these really sad sounds."

He's not even teasing. Just being honest.

"I'm sensitive," you say.

"You're used to sleeping indoors like a normal person."

You ease off of his lap. He doesn't want you to; he'd keep you close forever. Plus, he feels guilty cuddling you in front of Robin because he knows public displays are uncomfortable, so he wants to really take you in while he can.

"I have something to tell you," you say.

"Oh?"

"Or, something to give you. But I can tell you something if that matters."

"Tell me anything." Everything. He wants to know everything you have to say.

"Well… well, before this happened…" You rummage through the bag you'd brought home with you, the tip of your tongue peaking out. "You know, before the world half ended, I wasn't– I don't know if I can say it."

"Please?" he asks.

You pull something into your hand. "Alright. I didn't think I'd ever fall in love. And then the world ended, and I really didn't think I would, but you found me and I love you, so it wasn't true."

He thinks about it. You, years ago, when he'd see you in the halls at school or walking home. He doesn't have much recollection of you beyond that, but it aches in a weird way to think you'd been walking around feeling like you wouldn't be loved.

Steve licks his lips. "I get it, because I kind of worried the same thing. Like I'd keep loving people more than they loved me."

"And then you met Robin?"

"Exactly. She taught me more about love as my best friend than any of the girlfriends I had."

"Well, I didn't get a Robin back then, but I have you now, and I guess I want you to know it's important to me," you say. "I know things are so hard right now, I know," —you clear your throat as emotion creeps in to your tone— "you put on a brave face for me. I know you're tired. But I keep going for you, and you keep going for me, and I want you to have something so you remember that even if I'm… not around."

Steve sits up straight. "Hey, you're not going anywhere."

You blink rapidly.

"Where is it that you think you're going without me?" he asks, softer.

"Nowhere. But I just need you to know how much I loved you."

"Love," he corrects.

"How much I love you," you agree, sniffling. You look around at the tent floor, your shoulders raised just so. "Sorry, I'm not gonna cry or anything, I just hate thinking about it."

You hand him something wrapped in a new sock. He bites his lip to stop from laughing at the wrapping and unpeels his gift.

It's a watch. Silver, heavy, glass unscathed and hands tick tick ticking. Steve doesn't know if the time is accurate. His old watch broke a long time ago, but this one looks vaguely similar.

"You gave me a necklace, once, with a little diamond. I know I don't have it anymore, I shouldn't have taken it off. But you gave it to me when I was miserable, and I know you're not miserable, but–"

"I am," he says, rubbing his thumb over the watch. There's a tiny diamond set at the bottom of the clock face. He has no idea why, but the idea that you saw it and remembered his gift that long ago, that you wanted him to know you love him, that pays for some truth. "I'm miserable. I'm so scared for us." He breathes out hard. "Sorry."

Steve's eyes tear up. He tries not to let it show, but he's looking down at the watch and his vision is blurring, and he's thinking Fuck, fuck, I'm crying in front of her again.

You shuffle across the plastic floor toward him and clutch his hand. He's shaking minutely. You must feel it.

"It's okay, baby," you murmur.

He ducks his head.

"It's okay. I know," you say.

"I know that you know," he says.

"But it's hard," you prompt.

"Yeah."

You needle your arm behind his neck and him close. He can't hold back anymore, throwing his arms around your waist because why would you say that stuff to him? You're so evil, you're horrible, you're the very best thing that's ever happened to him and he loves you and what if you do die? Nobody will ever, ever be like you. There's no one out there with your smile, nobody who turns at the sound of his voice as you do, happy before you've set eyes on him and ecstatic when you have.

And if you live (please, God, if you live), Steve wants to give you a better life than this. He's constantly panicking because he doesn't know how.

But you don't mind. You don't love him less for the situation.

"I don't even know what to tell you," you say, stroking the hair at the back of his neck tenderly, "cos I tell you I love you so much it doesn't feel like what I mean. I love you. I love you, Steve."

He hugs you until he's not crying, wishing his cheeks would dry themselves when he finally raises his head and kisses your cheek. "Thank you," he says roughly.

Steve sits back and wipes his nose. You offer the sock. He laughs and bats it away.

"I love you, too," he says. He thrusts his wrist at you. "Strap me in?"

You fasten Steve's watch and, in what's becoming a theme, you kiss his pulse.

"Sorry things have been so hard," you say, adjusting the watch until it's sat comfortably.

"You make it easier."

"Guys!" Robin says, forcing her way into the tent with an exuberant smile on her face. There's something in her arms, a wriggling mass of matted fur. "Look! The cat followed us home! I'm gonna name him Stinkyboy! Or Shark. Get up, I need help catching a fish!" She waves the cat's paw at you both. "I knew he liked me!"

—-

the Steve zombie au

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

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thefanboyhub · 22 days

Text

Random ass head cannons I have for SBG gang yuh let's go:

Note/Update: Disregard the eye color thing for Aiden cuz the author has confirmed that his eyes are contacts ✨

Tyler will call people he likes (platonic or romantic) princess regardless of gender, mostly uses it when he's teasing them or in like idk a passive aggressive way. Like "No shit, princess." Or "Okay princes, calm down." Always paired with an eye roll tho.

Taylor hates Taylor Swift because of the annoying jokes people do with her name.

Adding to the last one, Aiden found that out when he made a joke once and she looked like she was about to throw him out the window lol.

Logan has helped everyone get their zodiac charts and read them. He fucking memorized them too. Little nerdy boy <3

Ashlyn doesn't initiate physical touch(hugs, hand holding, cuddling, ect) with people often (cannon btw), but when she does it always makes whoever was chosen feel special.

Ben listens to literally everything. All music. He's polyjamours.

Tyler is actually pretty good at guitar and was something he's liked since a kid, he loves music with heavy guitar in it. He also named his guitar Mel, like Melody. Only people to touch it was Taylor and Ben.

I see some people say Tyler has Logan tutor him but like. No? Tyler is hella smart and doesn't need to be tutored? Like c'mon. BUT Logan does have Tyler help him work out (Logan's body before and after phantom realm goes crazy man) after the whole almost died to phantom thing.

Aiden use to experiment with hair dye before he fell in love with blond. Also his eyes are red, it's not contacts. It's just his eye color lightening s he aged or smt. Fight me.

Ashlyn hates sour food and loves the more bitter stuff. Aiden loves sour food and hates bitter stuff. They trade food sometimes so they don't have to suffer.

Ben and Aiden know ASL, Taylor is learning to talk to Ben better.

Logan can draw but he doesn't do it often but he loves to watch Ben draw. It makes him want to draw too.

Taylor draws on her friends arms, Tyler will pretend to hate it same with Ash but they always ask her to redraw things when they fade. Aiden once had Taylor do an detailed tattoo like design on his arm in class. It didn't wash of for almost three weeks.

Aiden actually has sensitive skin, the wrong fabric gives him rashes. No one but him knows what fabric won't, it's all based on touch.

Tyler can cook really well, and even enjoys it sometimes. Can't bake for shit though.

Aiden knows ballroom dancing. Rich families or old fashioned one tend to know how to ballroom dance (I use to know)

That's all for now

#thefanboyhub #thefanboyhub rambles #thefanboy #sbg ben #sbg ashlyn #sbg aiden #sbg logan #sbg tyler #sbg taylor #sbg (webtoon)#school bus graveyard #sbg headcanons

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cryptidcorners · 6 months

Note

Can we have Mike taking care of his sick girlfriend? Or vice versa, with the girlfriend taking care of him?

Morning Fever - Mike Schmidt x F!Reader

Description: You're struck with a horrible sickness, and Mike refuses to let you overwork yourself like this. In a way to make up for all you've done for him, he indulges you in a day of soft care.

# requested by anon .

Media: FNaF!Movie

Character: Mike Schmidt

Tags: Girlfriend!Reader, Established Relationship, Fluff, Soft!Mike, Sick!Reader, Care (Receiving), Slice of Life, Domestic, Cute Stuff, Cuddling + (This may or may not be the tall reader from short problems, but height isn't specified ✋)

Warnings: Descriptions Sickness, Unhealthy Work Life Mentions

read my TOS + Mike Schmidt Masterlist

You awoke to a jaded pain in your head, as well as Mike's arms wrapped around your body softly. You figured your sudden aches were due to dehydration, or from your horrific work hours. You rolled onto your side with a tired hum, eyes fixed on his lazy curls and peaceful expression. Your fingertips ghosted to his face tenderly and rubbed featherweighted circles across his bristles with a warm chuckle. His senses were disturbed, and he pressed his lips against yours before opening his eyes.

"Well, good morning." You greeted.

"It's still dark out." Mike replied, voice wreaking in depth from his exhaustion. "You don't go to work in a long time." He asked with a yawn. "Go to sleep."

He rested his head on your shoulder sleepily while he kept hugging you. It'd be a couple more hours before Mike would truly need to get up, as well as you. "I figured I'd just get up early." You sat up, drawing out a desperate grumble from Mike as his grip weakly fell off your body. You chuckled and ran your fingers through his hair, "You know I can't stay in bed forever."

"Yes you can. If your boss has a problem, I'll kick his ass." Mike mumbled with his head buried in his pillow. "Just a few more seconds, please, baby?" He pleaded.

"I got to get ready, Michael." You kissed his head. Before you could stir out of bed, you began coughing violently. In a split second, you could already feel his hands behind your back. He was already rushing to take care of you.

"Are you okay?" He asked and you only replied with a vibrant nod as you cleared your throat. "Yes, I'm—fine. It's just a cough."

Mike frowned and held you close. "No, you sound like you have the flu or something. You want water?"

"No, I can't. I need to go to work." You assured. Mike's palm pressed against your forehead, "You're burning up."

"I just need some air," you protested. "I can't be late."

"I can't let you go out sick like this." Mike continued. He was growing desperate, "Just rest. For me, okay? I can take off today, and I can call your boss."

"Mike," you whispered while growing agitated. As much as you wanted to rest, you were a struggling workaholic. You couldn't just not go. "You need to rest, understand? Do you feel anything else?"

"Just a headache, and my throat is a little raspy." You described. You watched him walk out of the room and into the darkened hallways. Firefly light flickered, illuminating the wooden walls and Mike's moving shadow as he went to scavenge for some type of pill to help you. You coughed, "Mike?"

"Just a second." He called. You could hear the collision of empty bottles and other objects from the cabinets. It wasn't long before he came back with a glass of water and an antibiotic. You knew that type of drug was expensive for him. You straightened up defensively, "I don't think I need it."

"Please, let me take care of you." He extended his hand, "You've done so much for me, this is the least I can do."

You couldn't resist his dreamy eyes and soft personality. In the end, you surrendered and ended up being tended to by him the whole day. Mike had speedily taken Abby to school, called your boss and drowned you in spaced intimacy. Even if you hadn't asked for anything in particular, he read your face and came back in record speed to get whatever he theorized you wanted.

You had forgotten how much you had lacked conversation with him during the work week, especially one as gentle as this. The television buzzing in the background as you both sat on the couch (different sides, of course) just rambling about . . . anything really. Even with his shy character, he still held a spark that could leave you starstruck.

A lot of sneezing and throwing up didn't stop him from leaving your side.

"Are you sure you aren't bored?" You ran a wet paper towel across your face. Mike shrugged, "Of course not." he said softly. "I wouldn't leave you sick like this. I love you,"

"Love you too." You echoed.

A.N: sorry i keep changing the format every post lmfaooo. hope u enjoy ,, went a lil crazy

#💤 mike schmidt #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #josh hutcherson #fnaf #fnaf movie #💌 request!#writing #writers on tumblr #mike schmidt fluff

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cho-aaacho · 4 months

Text

Nemophila ~Baby blue eyes~

Masterlist

Tags : Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Couch Cuddles, Cuddles, Kissing, Multiple Kisses, Soft Gojo Satoru, Living Together, Gojo needs a hug.

Summary : Someday, the water will tell you the solution to the summer. Someday, you'll know that the only thing I care about in this world is you.

"Satoru-kun, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

You sprinted from the kitchen to the living room, where Satoru lay surrounded by a mountain of paperwork. A pen gliding and a spillage of water on the floor witness how much chaos there is now. He gently gripped his soft silver hair as if it were the source of his main problem.

You find your dear boyfriend surrounded by a veil of frustration, feeling himself drowned in a fragile state. Hair stroked in frustration, grunting in discontent. Guess he had a busy day; having a double workload at once is no fun.

If only he could split his body into two, maybe he could resolve his main problem.

"I fell," he murmured while collecting the scattered papers. His voice was a bit hoarse.

"Maybe you should take a break? I could negotiate with Gakuganji—"

"NO, you can't do that. You know what that old man is like. He's the worst."

You sighed in frustration, hinting that you couldn't convince him. "But, Satoru-kun. I fear for your well-being. If I am correct, I haven't seen you sleeping these days."

You glided and handed him a glass of milk, hoping to soothe him down, encourage him, and make him comfortable enough with your presence. A humble smile curls on your lips as you touch his shoulder, sending a million loves to his heart.

He still feels the warmth between his shoulders, the love you share with him, and your kindness towards his heart.

You could tell by the glimpse of his eyes. There was nothing but a sparkle in them. The sparkle you've always seen whenever he gazes at you or when he is in love with you.

"I don't want milk."

"Why? Milk used to be your favorite. Is there something else you want?"

His gaze fixed on the glass, scanning in disinterest. Some people might think he was disgusted by that milk, but he just has a bad mood. Those dark circles are still there, even if you are trying to get rid of them with a kiss. But his timeless beauty never fades. His classic beauty still lingers on him.

He is gazing toward you, locking his azure eyes in silence.

"It's helping you to have a good night's sleep, Satoru-kun," you offered with a gentle smile. Trying to convince him one more time.

"But it's only temporary! Now, tell me, Satoru-kun, how I can help you. I know you need me."

He chuckles, pinching your cheeks and shaking his head as if amused by your words. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, my love, sweet baby. But... you're so cute when you worry about me!"

He pats the couch, and a smile curls on his lips. "Come here. Sleep with me on this couch. Perhaps we could have a cozy cuddle before we sleep; how do you say?"

You smiled warmly, settling onto the couch, your giggling floating in the air, gliding nearer to him. His arm wrapped around your waist, drawing you snugly against his chest like a kitty cat, where you could hear his cute heartbeat.

Satoru's touch reveals a warm sensation, a comforting charm entwined with the sweetness of his breath, blending with longing and desire as he leans in closer to you.

He placed a kiss on your head, down to your cheek, rendering your skin with his lips. All of these treatments made you giggle in amusement. He leans in closer, kisses your lips multiple times, biting your lips gently with his, and smiles.

Yet, the aroma he carries wraps around your presence, comforting you to stay with him longer. Your affection for him is beyond the bonds of memory, making you love him even more... than you could remember.

Despite his stressful days, he is trying so hard to dress properly, using the same cologne. A masculine fragrance always lingers in the air—an aroma that becomes your own favorite. You've never asked him about its brand. You left it a mystery.

Your love for him transcends the limits of human understanding.

"Your smell is so good," he teased, kissing your nose, and he continued. "Please stay with me until I get a good night's sleep."

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jjk gojo x reader #jjk gojo x you #gojo satoru #gojo satoru fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen gojo

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astrecium · 4 months

Text

DATING HEADCANONS !

an wanderer x reader fluff !

no gender or pronoun said

warnings: none !

when you both started dating, the silence was pure awkward. you didn't know what to say and so did he.

but most of the time it was you the one who broke the silence, asking small things like how was his day and stuff like that.

he got slowly used to that, so everytime he got home he'd look for you and talk about his day, and talking(gossiping) about some people.

he'd say about how the teachers on akadimiya know nothing, and that even he himself would be a better teacher.

it was good to see him slowly opening up to you. very slowly.

I'd say his love language is acts of service.

when you go to work/anywhere he'd clean the house/cook, but bonk you when you come home.

"dont get used to this. and when you finish eating go wash the dishes."

you couldnt say much, he cleaned the whole house, you can at least do this for him.

he can't use words or affection to show that he loved you, so he helps you with anything. anything really. but he'd call you dumb after it.

nah, in the first days of the relationship yall would not sleep together. maybe in the same bed, but wouldn't face each other from shyness of both.

somehow, when you sleep he ends up getting a little closer, maybe even hugging you. but always make sure to wake up before you so you dont see it.

you two would only end up cuddling if you ask him for it. then you both would cuddle everyday, but you couldn't say anything about it if you want it to continue.

PDA is too new for him. i think the most he'd do would hold your finger in a crowded place.

unless if someone flirts with you, he'd hug you by behind, staring at the person with an big smirk on his face, or an deadly glare. maybe both.

randomly info dumps you. hear me out.

coming to you out of nowhere and start doing the biggest presentation you know.

then he'd leave. i swear.

if in a modern AU, he'd definitely make an music playlist that remembers him of you.

doodles you when he should be studying. in my head he is very good at drawing, but always make horrenduous drawings of you (when you are close, whenever you leave he'd do the most yummy drawing of you ever made.)

doesn't care if you are strong or weak, whenever he sees an hillichurl or whatever he goes boom boom!!! secretly wants to impress you. but shruggs it off saying you are too dumb to defend yourself.

when y'all dating for like, one year he'd be all used to you. randomly placing his head on your lap, neck, anything whenever he feels like it.

once you two had the smallest argument and he got real scared of you leaving him, so he bought you your favorite food, also shrugging it off with some mean comment.

never really means to hurt you, just cant bring himself to be an kind cheesy boy.

i can imagine you and nahida doing pigtails in his hair. sorry.

actually loves you, but on his own way.

my back hurts so much

the requests are open, send me asks pls

#wanderer x reader #genshin headcanons #wanderer #wanderer headcanons #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche headcanons #ⓘ MADE BY MECPENCIL ON TUMBLR

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writerslittlelibrary · 7 months

Note

Thank you so much for writing my request. Omg that was amazing if you could do a part two pretty please (also like reader scared of Maria but I didn’t think of what to call her apart from agent/director hill)

I hope it wasn’t much problem writing it

Sending you this love💛💛💛

-🦈

We are your mothers 2

masterlist requests masterlist

part 1

summary: when you get kidnapped, your moms do everything in their power to get you back, only to find out that now you'll never call them mom again...

pairing: Blackhill x daughter reader

warnings: yelling, nightmares

genre: angst

words: 1169

a/n: part 2 is finally here! also, covid's been kicking my ass and I can't really breath or see (due to teary eyes) so sorry if this isn't great. I really wanted to write the part 2, and I might improve it or make it longer when I feel better :)

(also who has covid three times? why is that a thing🤨)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

-------------------------------------------------------------

It had been over a week, and you were yet to interact with your mothers. Yelena was the only one you let close to you, but even she had no idea what you had endured. You didn't sleep a lot, nightmares haunting you, seemingly even when you were awake.

It broke your mothers hearts, to hear you scream and cry every night and not be able to comfort you. They made that mistake the first night, and the moment they walked in, you tried to crawl away from them, falling off the bed in the process. They tried helping you, but when they got close, you shielded your head and face with your arms, shaking in fear with the thought they might hit you. Natasha had spent that night crying in Maria's arms, hearing how Yelena shushed your cries and cuddled you back to sleep.

When the mornings came, you wouldn't come out of your room, afraid your moms might be in the kitchen. Natasha picked up on that quickly, and her and Maria started having breakfast at least an hour before you'd wake up.

Most nights they spend crying. Maria tried to be the strong one, comforting Natasha to the best of her abilities but she failed, and soon broke down beside her with the fear they might never get to hold their little girl ever again.

It was a frightening thought to the both of them.

“How you doing, baby spider?” Yelena asked as she walked into your room, seeing you drawing at your desk. You shrugged. Yelena sighed softly in disappointment, but made sure not to let you hear her. You hadn't spoken a lot, and despite Yelena's many efforts, you wouldn't speak to her either.

Yelena sat down on your bed, leaning back and facing you.

“I was thinking we could go to the mall today. Maybe visit that bookstore you like so much?” Yelena tried, but you didn't even acknowledge her sentence.

Yelena sighed to herself again, getting up and walking towards you. You quickly closed your sketchbook when you felt her coming close, turning around with your chair to face her.

“Will Miss Romanoff and Miss Hill come too?” you asked Yelena softly, and she smiled hesitantly at you. “You know they are still your mothers, right? They'd love for you to call them mom and mama again…” Yelena tried carefully, but you flinched from even hearing those names.

You shook your head and turned back around to your desk, tears stinging in your eyes.

Yelena wasn't sure on what to do, but she decided that after a week, it was finally time to push. “Why wouldn't you want to call them that again? They've missed you so much.”

Tears streamed down your face, but Yelena just couldn't drop it. “They love you.” That was when you let out your first sob, crying as quietly as possible. Yelena didn't hesitate to lean forward, capturing you in a hug and letting you cry on her shoulder.

“What happened to you? What did they do to you?” Yelena asked softly, rubbing your back with one hand while the other cradled your head against her.

You sobbed and shook your head, trying to tell her, but your sentences came out muffled and in broken sobs. Yelena continued to comfort you, softly sushing you and continuing to rub your back. “We all love you, y/n,” Yelena said softly. “Just know that.”

After your sobs reduced to sniffles, Yelena tried to pull back to look at you, but you just pulled her closer.

Quietly you explained what happened. You left out most details, but covered the most important parts: they hurt when you didn't listen, and all you could see were your mothers.

Yelena had tears stinging her eyes as she heard you explain, holding you closely as she tried to keep in her own sobs. Hearing you talk about Natasha and Maria like that, hearing what you thought they did to you, broke her heart into a million pieces. She kept rubbing your back when your sobs started up again, whispering comforting things into your ear as you explained.

After a few minutes, when you both calmed down, Yelena finally pulled back, pulling you to face her. “We all love you. Natasha and Maria love you more than anything in this world. They would do anything to hear you call them mom and mama again,” Yelena explained, wiping some hair from your face.

You nodded softly, your tears finally reducing.

“I'll try,” you said, hugging Yelena one more time before standing up.

Yelena held your hand as you walked to the common area, your moms found sitting on the couch, watching a movie together to try and distract themselves.

“Natasha…” you softly called, her head whipping around to see you standing there, squeezing Yelena's hand out of fright. “Hi baby,” she said softly, slowly getting up to walk towards you. You tensed up slightly when she came closer, but Yelena squeezed your hand reassuringly.

Natasha came closer carefully, reaching her hands up to try and touch you. When she saw you didn't try to move away from her, she softly put her hands around you, pulling you into a hug.

Maria soon joined, putting her arms around you both as you quietly embraced each other.

When Natasha pulled back, she carefully reached her hands to your face, wiping some hairs that had fallen in front of it away. “I love you so much,” she spoke, tears stinging in her eyes. You kept quiet, tears stinging in your own eyes as well.

“We both do,” Maria spoke, putting her hand on the other side of your face carefully.

They were so afraid to hurt or scare you away. You nodded softly, your tears now streaming down your face. When you fell asleep that night, it was on the couch, your head on Yelena's lap and your legs on Natasha's.

You still hadn't spoken to them, but it was progress. You fell asleep in the same room as them, even going so far as letting Natasha touch you.

Natasha smiled to herself as she saw your sleeping form, softly stroking your legs as you slept. Yelena had told them everything that night, and both Natasha and Maria had broken down after hearing what you'd been put through.

You hadn't really said anything to them, and it would for sure take a long time before you'd call them mom and mama again, if you'd ever even call them that again, but Maria and Natasha were willing to wait, helping you wherever they could.

They love you, and they always will.

(Tags : @marvelogic @marvelav @lgas202-blog @jusnough @carol-romanoff @natsbraids)

#black widow #marvel #natasha x reader #blackhill #mcu #avengers #natasha romanoff #natasha x daughter #natasha x reader platonic #blackhill x daughter #marvel reader insert #marvel requests #writing requests #reader insert #maria hill x daughter #maria x natasha #maria x reader #maria hill x reader #maria hill

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spacebarbarianweird · 7 months

Text

How dare you?!

Synopsis: years after Tav's death, Astarion manages to become mortal again. But sometimes good things happen too late. It was definetely inspired by this quote from "The Last Unicorn"

"I am here now," she said at last. Molly laughed with her lips flat. "And what good is it to me that you're here now? Where where you twenty years ago, ten years ago? How dare you, how dare you come to me now, when I am this?" With a flap of her hand she summed herself up: barren face, desert eyes, and yellowing heart. "I wish you had never come. Why did you come now?" The tears began to slide down the sides of her nose.

Tags: angst Since Tav is already dead, I decided to make them gender neutral (hope I didn't mess up the grammar). Astarion mentions them (of course) all the time. Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Drinking other people's blood feels like an utter betrayal.

The outlaw lunges at Astarion, a glinting knife in hand. The vampire responds with a sinister grin, savoring how terror swiftly supplants the bandit's initial rage.

"Vampire! Kill him, you idiots!"

But the bandit's final words dissolve into a chilling shriek as Astarion plunges his fangs into the man's throat, drawing a deep draught of human blood. It's a flavor reminiscent of cheap alcohol, perhaps a testament to the bandit's fondness for rum. The pungent odor and the taste of his sweat turn Astarion's stomach.

However, as the blood courses through the vampire's veins, its transformative power takes hold. The hunger begins to recede, replaced by a surge of strength. His senses sharpen, and Astarion can practically savor the impending wave of fear from the group of thugs at the cave entrance.

"Please," the man stammers weakly, his voice trembling and feeble with each passing moment, "Don't kill me —"

Astarion releases the wounded thug, and the man collapses to the cave floor. The vampire lowers himself in front of the man, idly toying with a dagger, his tongue touching the tips of the fangs.

"Tell your henchmen to flee," he purred. "Run, and don't ever dare to glance back."

Astarion straightens his posture and gazes toward the two thugs.

Dumb idiots, he thinks. They could quickly kill him. But they are so afraid of the undead creature they won't dare.

Astarion wipes his mouth as the wounded outlaw staggers away in retreat. Deep down, Astarion wants to vomit. He thinks he should return to sating the thirst with animal blood—bears, wolves, boars—anything but sentient beings.

He can't drink blood, which doesn't belong to Tav. Tav allowed him to feed on them for years. Whose blood tasted like heaven, whose touches were so sweet and caring. Years after they are gone, Astarion can still feel their gentle caress.

And the coldness of their body when life left it.

He cried, he begged, he cursed. It couldn't have been so soon, not like that. They were supposed to live at least a few decades more together. Astarion remembers the nights on the grave when he contemplated if he should stay there till sunrise and turn into ashes.

He didn't stay because he promised to keep living.

Living, he chuckles. It's not life. He is undead. He died many years ago at the age of thirty-nine. His heart doesn't beat. His skin is cold and pale. His eyes are red, and all the food tastes like paper and vinegar.

Tav believed there was a cure for vampirism. They thought Astarion's dead heart could beat again. Astarion didn't care. He was happy with his lover by his side. Living with them, sleeping, cuddling, having sex, drinking their blood. Talking, holding hands, reading books, helping people, fighting monsters. Astarion never cared what to do – if it involved Tav, he didn't need to be asked twice. He didn't need to be asked, but they never crossed boundaries, always making sure he was all right with their plans.

Can I kiss you? Can I hug you? Can I touch your pointy ears? Do you want to go and help these people? Can I help you with your wounds? What do you mean, "no"? Listen, I am not looking at you bleeding and suffering – sit!

Their voice is so real as they were still there, with him. He hates concentrating on these memories because he hears the sound of a broken spine when he does. And sees the loving eyes gliding over his face.

Astarion will never forget the moment when Tav's heart stopped beating.

Astarion's crimson eyes dart around, attempting to focus on the present moment, a challenge for a creature like him. He's aware that making friends or seeking a new lover is a distant dream, a notion that feels like blasphemy. There's no home, no sanctuary, only a nomadic existence along the nocturnal roads, finding refuge in caves and abandoned houses to evade the relentless sunlight.

As he ventures deeper into the cave, he stumbles upon the object of his quest—a chained older man in a wizard's robe.

"And who in hells are you?" the man inquires.

"I've been hired to save you from the thugs, and I expect a generous reward for my troubles," Astarion grins as he unlocks the handcuffs.

The wizard, now unshackled, examines Astarion curiously. "Are you a vampire? Gods, it's very unusual for your kind to play a hero."

"I am," Astarion responds. "And I don't."

The wizard muses, "I recognize good people when I see them. Good elf vampires, I suppose, in your case. Quite peculiar. How long have you been like this?"

Astarion shrugs. "A few centuries. Hurry up, old man. It's sunrise soon."

The wizard chuckles. "Old man? I'm only sixty, my friend. Let's make haste; my home isn't far from here."

"May I ask you some questions?" he inquires. "I've never had the opportunity to converse with someone of your kind."

"I'll answer if I find the questions agreeable," Astarion replies

Their conversation flows easily, delving into topics like feeding the transformation into vampirism. Engaging with a sentient being who listens is refreshing, and Astarion relishes the opportunity to share his experiences.

"You remind me of my friend, Gale of Waterdeep," Astarion finally says, looking at the horizon getting pink.

"You did know Gale of Waterdeep?"

Astarion nods. "I wonder where he is right now."

"He died twenty years ago, Astarion. Lived a very long life for a human," the wizard replies, his words sending a shiver down Astarion's spine. Another person he knows is gone. It's been so many years that he's lost count.

The two continue the journey in silence, eventually arriving at the wizard's house. The wizard ushers him inside.

"What are you waiting for? It's almost sunrise," he remarks.

Astarion hesitates for a moment. "I can't enter unless you invite me."

The wizard chuckles. "Oh, of course, I forgot. Come in. You are very welcome to stay until dark. Wait for me here. I will return soon."

Astarion steps over the threshold and watches as the first rays of sunlight wash over the fields and the surrounding forest, feeling a strange mix of longing and melancholy as he observes the world he can never fully embrace.

When Tav was alive, he often urged them to venture outside on such mornings. They would stand there, basking in the warm embrace of sunlight. Astarion couldn't tear his gaze away from Tav. After a few minutes, his lover would return inside, and Astarion would gently press his palms to their radiant skin, yearning to feel the sun's warmth that had touched them.

The ache is still there. Astarion misses Tav profoundly, a pain that persists no matter how many years have passed or how many more will come. They were the first and only person he truly loved. They were the first and only person who loved him.

He remembers how Tav would cup his face with their hands. "What are you looking at?" he sometimes would ask, and Tav would laugh in response. "I wonder what eye color you had. Blue? No, I don't think so. Hazel? Doubt. I know! They were green. They were green like a pair of emeralds." Then, Tav would kiss his forehead. "But I guess we will never know."

"Astarion, I want to reward you for saving me," the wizard declares as he returns to the dining room, holding a black magic scroll. "You sound like a good person, a really good person..."

"Just pay me, and we're even. I enjoyed talking to you."

The wizard, however, opened a black scroll and began reciting an incantation. Before Astarion can react, a dark wave crashes over him, hurling him to the floor and pinning him to the wooden boards.

"I'm sorry," the wizard says, his voice muffled as if behind a thick wall. "I fear this might be painful."

"What in hell have you done to me?!" Astarion attempts to shout, but an invisible grip tightens around his throat, choking the words.

His body withers and wraps. Astarion wants to scream, but his mouth stays shut. His body doesn't belong to him in this painful moment. It hurts. It hurts the same way centuries ago when he was lying in his coffin six feet deep under the ground.

The stomach turns inside out, and Astarion vomits the thug's blood he drank earlier. The lungs are rupturing, causing pain in the rib cage.

Then the skin starts burning. He scratches it with his nails as if trying to flay himself. He feels how his bones break and fuse. Or is it just his imagination? By this time, he can't say.

He was through so much torment and pain during the centuries of enslavement. He thought it couldn't be worse.

It absolutely could.

Astarion presses his hands to the chest. The dead heart weighs like a tombstone. He wants to rip it out.

Thump

The first heartbeat crashes through Astarion like a hammer blow in the Adamantine Forge, resounding loudly and painfully.

Astarion finds himself on his knees, utterly shocked. The wizard sits at the table, regarding him with a condescending gaze.

It's then that Astarion notices someone else in the room. He springs to his feet, prepared to confront this stranger, but the wizard laughs.

"It's just your reflection, my friend," the wizard says. "I think you've long forgotten how you look, hmm?"

Astarion stands upright and shifts his gaze to the mirror. There, he sees a young, silver-haired elf staring back at him.

"Shocked, aren't you?" the wizard chuckles.

Astarion approaches the mirror, studying the stranger. Silver curls, the attire of an adventurer, and scars from a vampire's bite on the left side of his neck. But it's the eyes that captivate him—the eyes are emerald green.

Just like Tav said.

He shifts his attention to his hands, noting that the skin is no longer pale. The feeling of a beating heart and an empty stomach churn within him. The fangs are gone, replaced by regular teeth.

"Congratulations, my friend," the wizard declares. "You are no longer a vampire. I wasn't entirely certain if the scroll would work, but here we are. You are mortal again. It's a small price for saving me."

Astarion's legs give way, and he collapses to the wooden floor again, tears streaming down his face, a maelstrom of emotions threatening to consume him.

"Where were you?!" he yells at the top of his lungs. "Where were you twenty years ago? Where were you thirty years ago? Where were you when I had hope?!" Astarion jumps on his feet and clutches the wizard's robe, making the old man stand as well. "How dare you, how dare you resurrect me now?!"

"I- I reversed your curse," the wizard stumbles, scared of the young elf.

"You reversed," Astarion laughs bitterly. "Of course you did! I wish I never agreed on rescuing you."

"But you are alive! You are a living creature, not an undead monster-"

"And what am I supposed to do?" Astarion's laughter takes on a manic tone. "Mortality—you can't even imagine how I dreamt of it. How Tav dreamt of it. But... they are gone," he sniffs. "I buried them with these hands. Where were you... Where were you when Tav was alive?"

The wizard, still taken aback, steps back, fearing another outburst.

"Then—then live. Enjoy your new life," the wizard stammers.

"I don't know how! I don't know how to live! You, cursed old man, what have you done?"

"Get out," the wizard mutters. "Get out, ungrateful bastard."

Astarion makes a short, bitter laugh. He feels lightheaded and dizzy. His chest is too cramped for the newly awakened heart, his skin burns, and the blood races through his veins too fast.

Stumbling like a drunkard, Astarion exits the house. The sunlight feels like the soft touch of cat fur on his fingertips.

Squinting, he gazes up at the sun, tears streaming down his face, and he doesn't bother to wipe them away.

Astarion's heart was beating fast, and he had no idea what to do.

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