Sanctuary M.post

hiii hope you’re doing well! <3

i feel like this is a little bit specific but do you know of any like morning fics? like super fluffy or smutty it doesn’t matter but like just rolling in bed typa vibe. any member is fine, thank youuu!

🌷 Hello! Yes, it’s specific but I remember some. Usually they’re drabbles too. I’ll try to add more (I wanted to go through my reblogs but my eyes hurt 😣 lol)

Lazy Morning Vibes Fics

Breakfast in Bed @angelguk - Jungkook | I feel like I’m always recommending this author. But seriously her scenarios are sweet and ridiculously hot (but very soulful like the two characters are just lost in the pleasures of whatever they are doing). Anyway, try their other established fics too (I categorized it here as well)

Soft Nights @softguks - Jungkook |  just those days when you feel bad and the comfort of someone you love makes you feel better? this drabble is it (fluff)

Breakfast @btsiguess  - Yoongi | okay this is more of an awkward morning after OC accidentally slept with Yoongi but they go about eating breakfast and getting a bit domestic and lazy in the morning (fluff, smut)

Bedtime Memories @jinie - Taehyung | This is cute 🥰 going down memory lane at 2am vibes (fluff)

Morning @nightbts - Jimin | just a soft drabble (fluff)

Warmth and Pancakes @bangtanboysboo - Jimin | ah I think this fits your request 100%. You know how you just want to lounge, snuggle and stay in bed but you have one Jimin sweetly trying to wake you up? This is love 🥰 (fluff)

The First Morning @se0kie - Hoseok | the first morning after the wedding. It has that lazy morning scene and some morning picnic. Just sweet love 💖 (fluff, smut)

Champagne Silk @bangtanfancamp - Namjoon | This is Mafia x Arranged Marriage fic and this is actually part 2 (but I think you can read as standalone). It’s just lazy morning, sleepy voice, slice of life. *Thinking about this made me crush on this fictional Namjoon again*  (fluff, smut)

Coffee and Cream @geniuslab - Namjoon | early morning sunlight feels, lazy morning, sound of waves crashing nearby 🥰 (fluff, smut)

Moanday Morning @jinned - Seokjin | THIS. This is the first fic I’ve thought of upon seeing your message. This is hot 🔥 but also the sweetest. I also want to add that if you are looking for great Seokjin characterizations, the author’s fics are a must (like you’ll crush on all their fictional Seokjins after reading their fics) (smut, fluff)

Good Morning @infireation - Seokjin | some daddy kink one lazy morning (smut)

Lazy Day Cuddles @ttttaehyungie - Seokjin | this is cute because it references Seokjin’s fishing adventures with Yoongi. But imagine the man passing out on the couch and not making it to the bedroom after a fishing trip. Then you wake him up for the promised cuddles (fluff, smut)

I woke up in a cold sweat at 3 AM and made this. Even the hair is exactly the same.

i've been looking for weeks and months but can't find a single x male reader fic/au/etc... could u spare sum for the boys too😭🤲

ɪ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴡ/ ᴍᴠ33

📖ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: max is over at daniel’s where they're supposed to be doing whatever best buds do. but somehow, the topic of his father comes up, and it brings max to a…realization of sorts. it also causes the two of you to argue, and for several discoveries to be made in the early morning hours; some of the depressing-kind, and some of the heartwarming-and-life-changing-kind. 📖ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:  angst and fluff (hurt/comfort). argument. jos verstappen's a+ parenting. no beta we die like alphatauri's engines. 📖ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 4k words 📖ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: max verstappen x male!reader (race not specified) 📖ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: oneshot 📖ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ: ivy • frank ocean

ᴘʀᴇꜰᴀᴄᴇ:  i *usually* don’t write for male readers (as a cis woman idk i think it’s sus? idk, but maybe it’s not since i do support and love mxm ships, so maybe that’s hypocritical?)....but since it is my first request and max’s birthday (when i started writing this) i figured i could spare sum for da boys :)))) i scrolled through the tag and most of it was f1 x platonic!male!reader which is lowkey depressing, the boys deserve to simp wholeheartedly with us girlies ✊🏽  i hope “the boys” enjoy this and it makes the f1 x male!reader life a lil better! (you also didn’t specify who you wanted, so i went with max bc of his birthday) big shout out to the best kitties in the world, jimmy and sassy, for being great sports in this fic ☠️ they were wonderful setting devices!  this is not an accurate description of max’s relationship with his father. we all don’t know what’s going on there, but it did become a wonderful plot point. so, it’ll probably be the only thing jos the boss is good for besides being max’s sperm-donor 🙂.

want to be added to my taglist? or my f1 kinktober taglist? send me a message !

prompts from @forestryprompts and @dumplingsjinson

it’s 3:23 AM, and you’re brutally jarred out of your sleep by your phone ringing. you’re disoriented–still in that sleepy “where the fuck am i” stage–and don’t quite catch the first phone call. a few seconds pass by without another call, and you’re convinced you hallucinated. usually, there’s only two reasons for you to be disturbed in the middle of the night. number one, when sassy “accidentally” presses all ten pounds of her body weight into your spleen with one paw; and number two; when max returns from partying, a late flight, or streaming. glancing around, you guess sassy is the bengal curled up on max’s side of the bed, gravitating to where his scent is the strongest as max is over at daniel’s; missing her favorite parent. and you guess that jimmy’s the heat source curled against your feet under the duvet, as that’s his favorite spot to sleep and his favorite place to prey on your toes. you lay straight back, head resting on your pillow and shrug, dismissing it as a problem for the morning.

then another call starts ringing through. now, you’re awake enough to start processing the important information. you always set your phone on dnd when going to bed, and there’s only a few numbers that are set to bypass it during sleep. this ringtone in particular, identifies the caller as max, which is peculiar. max doesn’t disturb your sleep unless absolutely necessary, he already feels guilty enough for doing so when traveling. with that thought, you reach for the phone with a reaction time you’d only relate to your boyfriend’s occupation. 

you breathe out, “maxy, baby? are you okay? did something happen?”

a panicked and slightly desperate giggle slips out of the receiver, “heyyyy, it’s daniel, actually–”

“daniel?” you softly exclaim, sitting up in bed, worriedly continuing, “where’s max? did something happen? is he okay–”

“well,” daniel starts, “i wouldn’t say he’s ‘okay’, so to speak–” 

“oh my god! what does that mean, daniel? i’m coming over right now give me like, fifteen minutes–” you say rushedly, already leaping out of the bed. jimmy yowls in shock of being disturbed, panically darting out of the duvet, and sassy shoots up–airplane ears activated and all. 

daniel cuts you off, “NO! uh, no! i’m actually already on the way back to yours with him right now! he’s like- kinda drunk- tipsy i guess, one would say uh- but–”

“are you driving, daniel? if-if you’ve drank you should’ve let him sleep over, or called me to come get him if he’s being a menace!”

“no, uh-” daniel starts whispering, “we’re in an uber. ma- i mean- your boyfriend is kind of out of it, and not in a drunk way.”

“what the fuck,” you bite out, switching to hold the phone to your ear with your shoulder, as you pull on a pair of sweatpants (max’s) over your boxers, “does that mean, daniel?!”

“so, like,” daniel whispers even quieter, “hypothetically, we started talking about ma- sorry, his- wonderful childhood, and i guess me saying that seeing his father stabbing a mechanic with a fork isn't a normal thing to experience, kind of sent him into a spiral.”

“oh, fuck” you pause, while pulling one of max’s championship hoodies on. 

“yeah, that’s pretty much what i’d say,” daniel sighs, “but, then um, he tried to like rationalize it to me? like, he’d bring up different crazy memories, and i’d be like ‘no, mate, that’s not normal either,’ and everytime he’d bring up a positive interaction with his dad, he realized it correlated to how well he performed, and he kind of um-shut down.”

“oh. fuck.” you repeat. sassy, in a rare show of solidarity, winds between your legs and mews gently at you as if she’s letting you know that she’s here. “um, well,” you say, running a stressed hand through your hair, “you should be on max’s list to come up to the apartment, but i’ll call down to give them a heads up. text me when you get here, please?”

“will do,” daniel perks up, “i’m sorry by the way. i should’ve left it alone, or distracted him away from the topic. but you know how he gets, probably better than me.” 

now it’s your turn to let a depressing chuckle escape, “probably not, dan. i’ve known him for fourteen years and dated him for five of those, and he hasn’t done more than agree that his dad ‘isn’t perfect’” you wave your hand through the air, brushing the train of thought away, “anyways, i can get the spare room ready for you, so you don’t have to uber back?”

daniel nervously laughs, “forgive me for saying this, but i don’t really want to be present for whatever conversation is going to happen. or have to pretend like i’m unaware of anything. max would do his best to avoid me for as long as he can if he knew i was around, and i don’t want to risk that…after what happened when i left red bull.”

“yeah, you’re right. don’t forget to text me when you get here,” you state.

daniel’s text comes through when you’ve just gathered the ibuprofen and water bottles. you thumbs-up the message, and go to sit in the living room to wait for a knock on the door.  you plop down on the couch and your leg bounces anxiously. jimmy gracefully hops up into your lap, and he must be an emotional support cat because he sits down on that leg, and leans into your torso butting his head into your chest asking for pets. you indulge him, a shaky laugh erupting, “thanks, jimmy,” and you lean down to press a few kisses to his cheeks. silence overcomes the room, and then three knocks break the still air in the apartment, and both you and jimmy jump off the couch and race to the entryway. you push jimmy behind you with a foot as you open the door, knowing damn well he’ll sneak into the hallway if given a chance. 

max stumbles through the doorway first. his eyes are bloodshot with a cold and unseeing look glazed over them, red-rimmed and looking so distraught at tonight’s realization, that your heart aches for him. you wish you could take his pain away, or at least carry some of it for him. his hair is sticking out in different directions like he was anxiously tugging at it, but the most surprising observation is the tear tracks on his cheeks. max doesn’t cry, like at all. 

well, that’s not exactly true. he’s one of the men that says crying is “strong” and not a sign of weakness when you cry and even encourages you to cry it out on his chest. but, when it’s himself, he refuses to cry until everything gets too much. he’ll come up to you and sit or stand pressed right up against you, grabs at and plays with your hand to let you know that he needs comfort, before he looks at you and softly asks with a cracking voice if he can have a hug. you always set aside what you’re doing as quickly as you can, because you’re not going to let an opportunity of caring for max in a rare vulnerable time pass, and pull him into your chest. even though he’s broader than you, he appears to shrink himself within your arms, and presses his face into your shoulder while he cries. his tears are always silent, but his body is loud; he shakes, and his hands grab at whatever you’re wearing in fists like he’s afraid that you’d slip out of his grasp.

anyways, you’ve never known him to really cry with other people. with a soft, “max…” you reach out to him, but he brushes right past your hand and goes straight for the bedroom. jimmy trots after him, and sassy falls into step from whatever pocket she was hiding in. you freeze, shocked at his behavior while also understanding, he’s had a life-changing realization that he’s never allowed himself to address. you feel guilty that you're jealous of the fact that he had it with daniel. 

daniel clears his throat, still standing outside the doorway, “...you know he doesn’t mean to ignore you like that, right?”

you nod, “when did he start crying?”

“he held it together until we got into the uber, i think. he was turned towards the window the whole time and refused to look at me. i didn’t notice he cried until we got out.”

“are you sure you don’t want to stay the night? it’s late, dan. or at least let me get you the uber back” you offer again with a questioning look.

daniel refuses both options, “nah, don’t worry about it. i’ll make max take me to lunch one day to pay me back. i’d say good luck but that seems redundant. be gentle with him, alright?”

you sigh, “i’ll be gentle, dan. can’t say the same for him,” daniel’s face saddens more, “get home safe alright, dan? text me when you get there.”

“of, course,” daniel nods, “goodnight.”

you watch him walk into the elevator before closing the door. you turn the lock, and step forward until you can rest your forehead onto the cool wood. eventually, you push off the door and turn around to grab the water and ibuprofen from the settee and make your way to the bedroom. max is sitting at the foot of the bed, elbows on his knees and his head resting in his hands.

pausing, you place the water and meds on the nightstand first, then you sit next to him and lightly place your hand on his upper back, attempting to rub between his shoulder blades to provide comfort. max shrugs your hand off. you pause, blinking a few times trying to discover the best course of action. you decide to ignore the second blatant dismissal of the night, and pull his hand off his face and push him to sit up straight. you forcefully straddle his lap, ignoring his grumbles, and grab his face, thumbs resting on his cheeks and directing him to look straight at you. 

“max, you’ve got to communicate with me here. i was terrified, when daniel called me! you refuse to talk about your dad with me, which is fine, okay? but you have to talk to somebody. whether it’s me, daniel, a therapist, christian, or even fucking helmut marko—you need to talk to someone. you’ve repressed this shit your whole life, and when whatever film you had over your eyes when looking at your father slipped away, you shut down completely? that can’t happen again! i don’t want it to happen again…daniel sounded completely fucking terrified—like he was afraid he broke you or something. and if you’re scaring me right now with how-h-how out of it you look, i can’t imagine what it was like for him,” you finish, taking a few deep breaths. max doesn’t say anything, just stares at you blankly. 

you make a distressed groan, both hands releasing max’s face to rub at your eyes and drag down your cheeks. doing so, you continue talking, “max. you don’t even have to talk, baby, not to me at least. i don’t care if you journal, if you meditate, if you go goddamn axe throwing; but, you need to see a professional. cause, how your brain is coping, and how you’re rationalizing it isn’t good. you aren’t the problem, nothing you could’ve done differently would have made your dad change; you are not the problem, max, he is. okay? i’ve known you for fourteen years, and not once have i pressured the topic after you said that ‘you’re fine,’ but, you have to at least promise me that you’ll start doing something.”

max parts his lips, thinking about what to say, as you fully sit on his lap. you look at him with wide eyes filled with worry—with care— and you’re anxiously playing with the hairs on the nape of your neck. 

“i don’t want to talk about it.”

“that’s not an option,” you state, with a furrowed brow, “can you at least tell me what caused the breakdown?”

and, that’s what gets get’s max going. his cheeks flush, and his eyes darken, and he starts talking with a firmer voice.

“it wasn’t a breakdown, first of all. i was just overwhelmed and overreacting. it’s nothing serious, like you’re pretending it is. i don’t need this—this false worry, showing up all of sudden when you know how the relationship between my father and i has been for all of the time we’ve known each other.”

you pull away, retreating off his lap and stand in front of him with your arms crossed over your chest. 

“false worry?? that’s what you think this is,” you start with an exasperated tone, “max, ‘for all the time we’ve known each other’ all you’ve done is deflect from my questions about you two, or tell me that everything is fine when it’s clearly not! and i gave you the space you wanted, because i was afraid that you’d stop talking to me, that you’d stop trusting me. but now, as your boyfriend, i can’t let it go unaddressed anymore!”

“you already did for fourteen years! it shouldn’t be that difficult for you to keep ignoring it.”

“because you asked me to, max! you didn’t want to talk about it then, and you need to talk about it now! i don’t give a fuck if you don’t want to share it with me, but it needs to be with somebody!”

“i already told you I didn’t want to talk about it, yet you keep insisting!” 

“that’s because i fucking care about you!” 

“well, did i ask for you to care about me?”

you’re stunned silent. the room is filled with heavy breaths from the two of you. this might be the most serious argument you’ve had, in awhile, or ever. 

it’s the third blatant dismissal of the night, and you’re calling it quits, daniel did tell you to be gentle, and if you keep going like this you’re word choice will become less gentle.

“you’re right,” you exhale, relaxing your clenched jaw, “you didn’t ask for me to care. and you shouldn’t have to ask for anybody to care. and, for some ‘unbelievable’ reason, i do happen to actually care,” you finish, your words dripping with exhaustion and defeat.

you walk around to the side of the bed, grabbing a pillow off the top and point at the nightstand, “the ibuprofen and water are for you. at least, finish one bottle before you go to bed, please.” you start walking towards the closet. 

“wait,” max calls out, finally standing up with a confused look in his eyes, “why’d you grab a pillow?”

you grab a blanket out of the closet, and sigh, “i’m sleeping on the couch.”

“what? no-no you’re not,” max stutters out, disbelieving.

“uh, yes i am.”

“what, no! no, schatje, i’m sorry, please come to bed,” max utters out, looking absolutely heartbroken. 

“i’m going to sleep on the couch, max,” you repeat, “if i go to bed, i won’t be able to not talk about it, and we’re clearly going to talk in circles about it. both of us are tired, frustrated, and mad, and we’re going to end up even angrier, so i’m going to sleep on the couch.”

max, crossing the room quickly, grabs at your waist with his large hands, and pleads, “if you’ve made up your mind about it, you can at least take the bed, i’ll sleep on the couch, schatz.”

you, grab his hands off your waist, having to fight him a little bit for it (you may be a man, but your man is a professional athlete, you’ll be outmatched any day) and press them into his chest, “you’re still pretty drunk, max. i’ll let you take the bed so you can be comfortable, you seem like you’re going to have a pretty bad hangover, i can smell the alcohol on you still.”

max looks upset, but eventually concedes. you press your lips to his cheek, “i’ll see you in the morning, babe. then, with clearer minds we can talk, ‘kay?”

sassy baps jimmy on the face before nuzzling in between max’s legs, while jimmy makes to follow you out as you shut the door gently.

situating yourself on the couch, you squeeze your eyes shut. usually you’d be hugging max’s arm to your chest but tonight, jimmy is benevolent enough to leave his usual spot at your feet to fill in for max. even with the comfort the bengal’s purring body provides, you know you’re only in for a fitful night of sleep.

you wake up a few hours later, your body not able to keep you under for long you guess, as the early morning sun has barely started lightening the room. you take a minute to get your bearings, not used to waking up on the couch (in the past when you have accidentally fallen asleep on the couch, you magically wake up in bed laying on top of your boyfriend, how weird), and jimmy is no longer laying with you. he’s with max, who’s sitting on his floor below you, with his back facing you.

you rub at your eyes and whisper, “max?” he startles, and turns around to face you. his eyes have fresh bags underneath, his hair is still slightly damp from a shower, and you can tell he hasn’t gotten any sleep. even though you got a couple hours of shut-eye, the matching bags under your eyes prove that your sleep was restless.

“hey,” he whispers back sheepishly, “i know you told me to go to bed, but i couldn’t fall asleep. i only came out here a few minutes ago though, and i was just going to wait until you woke up in the morning.”

you sit up straight, and pull max onto the couch with you, “max, what? you could’ve at least layed down on the other couch, and not sit on the–”

max cuts you off.

“i just…couldn’t go to bed alone tonight, okay? i still feel raw–i think is the word for it. i’m exhausted and cried out, and the only person who can make me feel better is you right now. so i was just going to sit here, and be next to you, without disturbing you like you wanted, because being in your general vicinity already makes me feel better, even if you're mad at me.”

your mouth is left gaping, and you feel guilty now, your chest aches. leaving max at a time where he was vulnerable, even if you were right down the hallway–

“and, don’t feel bad about your decision to sleep out here. you decided that space was the best course of action for you, and you are probably right, because i was ready to argue with you,” max continues rambling, “honestly, you sleeping out here made me realize that i never want you to be angry with me like that, ever again. at first, i was scared that if i opened up about my relationship with my dad you would think i’m weak, or that you'd judge me for it, or that you’d leave me. but when i was in the shower earlier, i got really…scared.”

he pauses, taking a few deep breaths and you don’t make to interrupt him.

“i got scared because i thought you left me right now. that you lied to me about sleeping on the couch, and you were actually planning to leave. and, obviously you did not, you are still here right now but, it made me realize that i do need to talk to you. and that the reason i thought you were leaving was because of how i thought i scared you away with my issues. but i realize now, that the way i’ll scare you away is by not talking about my issues,” he turns to look at you with an earnest expression.

“so, if you are okay with it, i will talk to you. about everything, even though it may take me some time to work up the courage. i am uncomfortable with talking to a…professional, but i will, if you truly think it will help me. but i do not want to risk the chance that my refusal to communicate costs me a lifetime with you,” he ends.”

you stare at him blankly, and max begins to fidget at your silence. you lean forward and pull him into a hug, tears gathering in your eyes. he nestles his head in the crook of your neck, and presses gentle kisses into your skin. 

“max, all i want is for you to talk to me about it. i want to share the burden you feel, and understand you better than the back of my hand. most of all, i hope having somebody who understands you to that depth makes you feel lighter, and validates your emotions.”

max says something, but it’s muffled by your body.

“what was that, baby?”

max pulls away to look at you with bashful eyes and pinkened cheeks, “you know i can’t imagine my life without you.”

“likewise,” you respond, just as meek.

“no, really. i've fallen in love with you,” he continues.

“max, you told me you loved me years ago,” you say laughingly.

“no, like, i’ve fallen in love with you again. everytime i think i can’t fall any deeper, you manage to prove me wrong,” he says intensely.

you pout at him, hands coming up to feel at your heated cheeks, “oh, max! stop, you’re going to make me cry. that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me. i fall in love with you again, everytime you finish a race, and come home to me. that you chose me as the man you want to see after a tiring race weekend, regardless of the outcome. 

max smiles all teeth, “there’s no other person i want to share my highs and lows with. well, hopefully more highs than lows. i have the ring for you already, but i at least need to win eight championships before i retire so you’re able to marry a record-breaking champion. i am proposing to you this year though, i cannot wait any longer.”

you stare at him unseeing for a minute, and he looks awfully confused for a man who just announced his plans to give you his last name. 

“max,” you start shakingly, “what do you mean you already have the ring?”

max’s carefree expression drops, and becomes pale, “what are you talking about? i never said anything about a ring–”

“you literally just did?! the part before you said you were proposing to me this year, and before becoming an eight-time world–”

max claps, cutting you off while standing up. he offers you his hand, “alright! we should go to bed now, right? together, yes that’s a great idea.”

taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems

© httpsserene 2023

still working on requests but i suddenly remembered that this post exists and immediately wanted needed to write touch-starved astarion. hope you guys enjoy this as much as i did!

a fervor, a sweet (astarion x gender neutral!reader, baldur’s gate 3)

As thrilled as he is to be free of Cazador’s control, Astarion could do without the constant need for blood.

Deer and boar just aren’t cutting it these days, not when he’s expected to fight goblins or harpies or whatever other damnable creature whose midsts you keep gallivanting into. 

Which is why he’s using all of his roguish tricks to approach your sleeping form without notice, intent on nicking a few mouthfuls from your throat before you wake. Nothing outlandish - just a little nibble, enough to keep him going. Keep him strong. 

Of course you wake just as he’s kneeling down with fangs bared. Of course. Astarion is quick to explain himself, wary of a stake through the ribs, but you’re surprisingly amenable to having a vampire in your midsts. 

You’re surprisingly amenable to many things, actually, including offering him the blood he so desperately needs. 

Are you that trusting, he wonders. Or that naive? 

Either way, Astarion has learned never to look a gift horse in the mouth. He urges you to get comfortable and then dives into his first real meal in centuries, nearly sighing as the sweetness of your blood spills over his tongue.

It’s splendid, the taste of your blood thick in the back of his throat. He’s never tasted anything like it, never felt anything like it, the sheer rapturous joy of giving his body what it needs, and to have your blood be offered so willingly only seems to add to the euphoria of the experience. Gods, but he could spend ages buried in your throat.

He’s lost in a pleasurable half-state, numb to everything but your blood coating his tongue, and so he almost doesn’t notice your arm rising, not until your hand has settled on the back of his head. Disappointment curdles in his gut; you’re about to push him away and that, as they say, will be that. Ah well. It had been generous enough of you to offer this much. 

But you don’t push him off. Your fingers are moving, yes, but not in an attempt to dislodge him. You’re simply… touching him. Pushing wayward curls into place, trying to tame his hair into some semblance of order, no small feat considering how mussed it’s become from his journey through the nautiloid ship and days in the wilderness with you and the motley crew you’ve gathered. 

You’re careful about it, gentle. Astarion - well, he doesn’t quite know what to do in response. Even the sweetness of your blood fails to distract from the soft sensation of your fingers carding through his curls. 

Even as they slow to a stop atop the crown of his head, Astarion can do little but stare blankly at the skin of your throat, nearly forgetting to swallow his mouthful. And then you pat his head, your palm gentle to avoid mussing up the job you’d just completed on his hair, and Astarion is so surprised he lets go immediately. 

“Ah, that will be all, I think,” he murmurs, unable to discern if the warmth in his chest is from the meal he’d just indulged in or the way your fingers had felt combing through his curls. Either way, it would be a good idea to leave, now, lest he do something foolish.

He feels your eyes on his back as he walks - walks, not runs - away. He feels them for even longer after that, a gentle weight across his shoulders that fails to dissipate even as he gorges himself on boar and deer in the dark of the night.  

*

The camp is awash in celebration - Halsin has been rescued, the Druid ritual halted, and the goblin scourge destroyed. Merriment flows in the form of drink and song, and everywhere Astarion looks there is joy to be found on faces both familiar and not. 

He searches for you, certain that this night will allow him the perfect opportunity to strengthen your bond. You’re already charmed by him - but then, who wouldn’t be, with all of his talents? - and a night together would serve to secure his place by your side, secure his safety. His freedom.

He’s stopped multiple times by inebriated tieflings, all eager to give him thanks for his part in the goblin massacre. One pushes a bottle of too-sharp smelling wine into his arms, and bereft of any other choice, Astarion accepts the bounty with a pasted-on smile.

Surely you’re the one they should be fawning over, he thinks, taking a pull of the wine and grimacing at its taste. It should be you in the midst of this celebration, being plied with trinkets and tasteless wine and heralded as the hero you are.

And yet - 

“You do realize you’re the guest of honor, don’t you?” he questions, unable to contain the curl of his lips when you shoot him a startled glance. Apparently you hadn’t expected anyone to find you in this little hidey hole, tucked behind an outcropping of rock with the newest acquisition to your group nestled against your knee. The owlbear has its head resting on your thigh, cooing gently as your fingers stroke along its crown. 

“Are they asking for me?” Your voice is hushed, the faintest hint of a slur to your words, and Astarion huffs a laugh. He wasn’t the only recipient of subpar wine, it seems. 

“Not yet.” He approaches you and your little shadow, grateful that the owlbear cub seems more preoccupied with your fingers than turning those sharp claws onto him. “But they’ll come calling eventually. Why are you hiding?”

“I’m not!” you insist, though your words lack much conviction. “I’m simply - recovering. From the wine.”

Astarion smirks, taking a seat beside you. “From the adoration, you mean.”

You huff a breath, your fingers scratching lightly between the owlbear’s ears. “That, too,” you admit quietly. 

“The life of a hero not quite what you expected?” You’d taken to it like you were born to do so, never failing to offer your aid to any poor soul in need. Yet the grimace that twists your lips speaks of a keen dissatisfaction with the moniker. Interesting. 

“I’m not a hero - “ you start, only to falter at the placid look Astarion gives you. You huff out a breath. “Just because I enjoy helping people doesn’t mean I’m entirely comfortable with all the fanfare that comes with it.”

“Understandable.” Astarion leans back on his palms, idly listening to the tiefling bard’s song as it filters through camp. “Surprising, but understandable.”

Your brows climb. “Why is that surprising?” 

“Oh, come now,” he teases. “Isn’t half the fun of playing hero the praise and accolades that come after?”

You shake your head, a soft laugh bubbling from within your throat. It’s a pleasant sound. “I’d rather be giving the praise than receiving it,” you confess. The owlbear chirps as though in agreement and you take to cupping its plump cheeks in your palms, an affectionate glint in your eye. “Yes, you understand, don’t you, my brave little one?” Your fingers scritch gently through the owlbear’s feathers and the creature purrs, a rumble that Astarion can nearly feel in the soles of his feet.

You shoot a triumphant glance his way. “See? Much better.”

“Well, as long as you’re doling out praise,” he murmurs expectantly, some small part of him wondering why in the hells he’d decided to say such a thing and swiftly laying the blame for his loosened tongue on the awful wine. 

A look of surprise passes over your face before it’s swiftly replaced by an expression that Astarion can only define as fond. He should be thrilled about that - he’d set out to charm you to his side during your first meeting, after all, and here before him was the proof that his machinations were working. He waits for the satisfaction to spill through his veins, the joy of a job well done, but instead all he truly feels is… warmth. 

Warmth and the callused pads of your fingertips settling gently against his cheeks. He blinks in surprise at the unexpected touch, mutely staring as your eyes track his face and your lips tilt into a soft smile.

“You were very brave, too, Astarion,” you croon, in much the same tone as the words you’d cooed to the owlbear, and despite himself, Astarion feels a hot flush work its way down his chest. 

“Really now, darling,” he begins, adopting a lofty tone to distract from the shock of his own body’s reaction to your words. 

“Fierce as well,” you continue undeterred. “Cunning and swift. Utterly brilliant.” Your palms gently squeeze at his cheeks in much the same way you had just been handling the owlbear. That bit should offend him, probably - he isn’t some beast to be swayed by pretty words - but the expression on your face serves to soothe his ego well enough.

You’ve a mind for deception when the situation calls for it, but the wine and general merriment of the evening seem to have stripped you of all but sheer sincerity. You mean what you say. 

“Well, I - “ Astarion struggles for words - a first for him, in all truth. Perhaps the wine has addled his mind, too, for the only thought he seems capable of is how nice it might feel to slump against your hold, allowing you to be all that holds him aloft in the world. 

The owlbear trills between you, the call enough to distract you. Your hands slip from Astarion’s face and for reasons he chooses not to study too closely, it takes a valiant effort for the vampire not to snatch them back up again. 

That, he reasons, is his cue to leave, and with a swift farewell and a promise not to rat out your hiding place to the rest of the revelers, he goes. 

It doesn’t strike Astarion until he’s back within the safety of his own tent that his plans for the evening - to seduce you into his bed and bolster your growing bond - had been completely waylaid. He should be furious with himself, and he waits for the bitter sting of disappointment to settle on his tongue - 

But it doesn’t.

Strange.

*

Camp is mostly silent when Astarion returns from his late night feeding, though you appear to still be awake, nestled on a log by the fire and staring silently into the depths of the flames. 

He debates bypassing you entirely but that feels too much like retreating. The night of the tiefling’s celebration remains fresh in his mind, his body’s increasingly confusing reactions to your touch stalling his feet, but Astarion is no coward. 

In truth, you look so lost in thought that he could have passed you completely uncontested, and he might have tried his luck, if only he weren’t so sure that he himself was the source of your turmoil. 

The Gur hunter had been a nasty little surprise. Astarion had given little thought to the possibility of Cazador sending someone after him, or perhaps he’d always known it was an inevitability and merely elected not to give credence to the thought. A folly on his part, to be sure. He would have to be much more vigilant in future.

“Don’t tell me you were waiting up for me,” he quips, taking no small amount of pleasure in your startled expression as he settles onto the log beside you. 

You open your mouth - perhaps to deny his accusation - but seem to sense the futility of such a claim. 

“We can’t be certain that Gandrel was working alone,” you say, turning your gaze once more to the flames. “I felt better, waiting.”

“Ah,” Astarion murmurs. You were concerned for him, then. He’d known as much - even after dispatching of the hunter and facing down the hag afterward, you had refused to rest until the party was well beyond the borders of the swamp. A blessing, really, considering the stench of the place, but even Lae’zel and Wyll had raised a brow at your haste. 

Silence falls between you for a moment, slightly awkward but also strangely comfortable, heavy with words unsaid. You look fit to bursting, however; Astarion can feel your gaze darting to him when you feel he isn’t aware, and he resists the urge to smile. He has centuries on you - he can be patient. 

“Your arm?” There it is, your voice deceptively light when you finally speak.

Astarion huffs. Was that what had worried you so?

“It was only a flesh wound, pet.” The Gur’s arrow had sliced a furrow into his forearm, leaving behind a stinging, bloody mess, but it was nothing a few mouthfuls of blood couldn’t fix. 

You nod jerkily, brows furrowing. “I know,” you mutter, though you don’t sound entirely convinced.

Astarion sighs, though even he can hear the fond exasperation in it. “See for yourself,” he says, holding his bare arm out for your perusal.

The skin is pale, unmarred, as though the wound had never been inflicted at all. He expects the silent look of awe that passes over your face; he even expects the relief, though the vulnerability of the expression - the proof that you’ve grown to care for him - is enough to make him second guess his earlier decision to approach you.

He’s not expecting your fingers, roughened at the tips with calluses from wielding your weapon, to wrap gingerly around his arm.

Astarion goes still, watching as you study the offending limb with far more intensity than it deserves. Your nails drag lightly over the stretch of skin where the arrow had struck, leaving a tingling sensation behind in their wake. 

He’s rocketed back to the night you’d first offered your blood to him, to the moment during the tiefling’s celebration when you’d gathered his face in your hands and touted him brave. He’s freshly fed and pleasantly full, but the warmth in his belly has little to do with blood.

It’s you.

It’s you and this damnable urge you seem to have to touch him - his hair, his face, his body, all seemingly without thought, without sexual intent, without cruelty.

When had such a touch ever been bestowed upon him? Before his death, certainly. Before Cazador. 

The thought roars through him like a wailing beast. 

Why are you doing this? Why do you care?

Why does Astarion never want you to stop?

“I’m glad there was no lasting damage,” you murmur, your hands curled loosely around his arm. You’ve no intention of letting him go anytime soon, it seems, but that’s alright. That lost, fretful look has vanished from your face, leaving behind sweet relief and a small, lopsided smile.

Astarion wants to taste it, to feel the texture and give of your mouth against his. Not to manipulate, not to coax you into bed, but simply because he wants to.

Gods above, he actually wants.

*

He carries the feeling, for a time. 

The want, the need. The ache.

It builds and it builds, a sweet desperation that he’s never quite felt before, until eventually even Astarion’s centuries-born patience runs reed thin. 

The Elfsong Tavern comes as a welcome respite after spending weeks in the wilderness. The entire upper floor is yours, and even Lae’zel seems more approachable after a few nights spent in the comfort of a real bed - much as she may hiss when Astarion tells her so.

A confrontation with Cazador lies just around the corner, a looming threat that hangs over all of your heads. You’re strong - stronger than Astarion had ever thought possible - but there’s a very real chance that none of you will see the light of day again after you breach his stronghold.  

If this is to be his last night on earth, Astarion reasons as he comes to a halt outside your door and raises a hand to rap at the wood, then he’ll be damned if he spends it without the comfort of your touch. 

You call for him to enter, and at his first glance of you, his resolve firms. You’ve discarded your armor, clad in loose clothing that makes you look soft, open. 

The urge to tease, to pester and charm disappears. Astarion climbs atop your bed, settles himself at your side, and for the first time in recent memory, asks for something he actually wants.

“Touch me?” 

Your brows jump, mouth parting on a slow, sharp breath. You set aside the tome you’d been reading, eyes searching his own. He half-expects you to question him, to gently urge him from your room. 

But you don’t.

Your palms are warm against his jaw, your touch tentative, exploratory, until Astarion sighs and sinks against you. 

You murmur his name, your voice soft, full of surprise, of wonder. 

“Please,” he whispers, and you laugh, a soft, shaky thing, disbelieving, awestruck. Fond. 

You thumb at his cheekbone, drag your nails along his jaw, trace the bow of his lips until he’s gasping for breath, a fire sparking in his blood. Your fingers shift gently through his hair, and then firm within his curls whenever he releases a low, trembling moan. 

Each touch you bestow upon him is a solar flare, blinding, brilliant, hot: your hands stroking over the crown of his head, dragging through the short curls at his nape, scratching lightly over his throat, his shoulders, his waist. 

His chin falls to your shoulder as your palms spread out along his back, dragging a trail of fire down the length of his spine. He presses his lips against your throat and bites out your name, warm and wanting, and you croon against his ear, nonsense words interspersed with his name. The scent of your own desire, your skin, your need is a heady concoction, making his head spin and his fangs ache. Thoughts of the parasite, the Absolute, Cazador - they all fade to the back of his mind, unimportant, insignificant to the heat of your hands upon his skin.

“Don’t stop.” It’s a desperate order, his voice gravel, his blood afire. His buries his hands beneath your tunic, feels your body shake as tremulously as his own, and knows in that moment that he could never let you go. 

“I won’t.” Your voice is a balm, a declaration, a vow. You press your lips to his brow and say it again, the cadence of the words sinking deep, taking hold, stronger than Cazador’s cruelty and the parasite’s hunger and everything else that you’ve yet to face. 

It should be terrifying - it is terrifying, but Astarion has long grown accustomed to fear.

He'll welcome this one with open arms.

boys like you (m)

series masterlist!

1.0 | 2.0 |

Kaz Brekker. That’s it. Reblog if you agree.

when lana del rey said, "open me up; tell me you like it. fuck me to death. love me until i love myself," and when olivie blake wrote, "gideon felt unopened and raw, like he’d cracked his chest in two and presented the evidence for nico’s evaluation," and when micah nemerever wrote, "he wanted to break julian’s body open and move inside it alongside him, rib cages interlaced around a single heart."

s.kiyoomi + gf moments

☆— fem reader, crack, fluff

☆— a/n; i don't know what this is, i just had a thought and felt like writing it.. it could become a serie of events until the Sakusa Kiyoomi finally admits he loves y/n (?) idk, let me know if you like the idea😊

You have been best friends with Bokuto since you were young. Your friendship was so fun and purely like brother and sister that you even decided to move together once high school was over and your University period of life began. Even if you were very different in personalities, somehow you both worked together and couldn't imagine a life without him as your bestie-almost brother.

After some time living together, you got very used to seeing some people around the house almost everyday, his volleyball teammates.

First, it was Miya Atsumu and Sakusa Kiyoomi. Atsumu was the biggest flirt you have ever encountered in your life, almost to the point in which sometimes it annoyed you. In a good way though. He was a cutie.

While Kiyoomi was very chill and shy, he mostly kept to himself if no one bothered him; but he had the most snarky and filled with sarcasm answers for whatever antics Boo and 'Tsumu could come up with. You loved it.

Then Hinata Shouyo joined the team, and it was like a whirlwind uprooted everything in his path. He was the most outgoing and sociable and kind human being you have ever met.

And it all became like a routine. Everyday after practice, all of them would come to have dinner at yours and Boo's apartment. By this time, you already know all of them and how they all liked things and their meals. Especially Omi. He was a particular, rare especimen.

Bokuto had warned you before introducing him, how he did not like physical contact or how he wouldn't take off his mask if he wasn’t playing in a match or eating. He warned you not to feel offended or take it personal if he bluntly commented on how things were not clean enough or whatever.

But surprisingly, he had never looked down on anything in your apartment or even commented anything in front of you.

There was even one time he did comment in the middle of dinner, "I'm surprised how you maintain everything this clean and organized considering you live with Bokuto…"

"Hey!" Boo complained, mouth full of food, while everyone laughed.

That same night, Boo had pestered you about how the Sakusa Kiyoomi liked you. Of course, you couldn't believe it. The man barely spoke to you outside of those moments the team was present at your apartment. 

It was until one night, when everyone came of course after practice to have dinner you were already cooking, when he did something you never thought he would do.

Of course, the amount of noise they made even before getting inside the apartment was a clear sign they were almost there. Shouyo and Boo always came straight to hug, picking you up and squishing you hard as a greeting. Atsumu would fist pump and wink at you before throwing himself on the sofa, of course putting some other volleyball's team match on the TV. While Omi would simply bow slightly with his head, not even getting too close to you, standing on the entrance of the kitchen.

By this time, you already knew and respected each one of them and their ways to show how much they appreciated you.

"It smells so good, Y/N," whined Shouyo as he entered the kitchen and made his way to the fridge to pick something to drink.

Omi was so quiet you have not realized he had followed the red-mostly orange-head and was standing at the door of the kitchen.

"I'm glad you think that," you smiled happily.

"He says that about almost everything. He would eat a bug and say exactly the same thing if he's hungry enough."

To say that you were surprised to hear his deep voice speak that amount of words was small. Yet, you couldn't avoid finding it funny how he always got the cleverest answers and dark humor. So you laughed, while Shouyo pouted, drinking from the beer he took from the fridge–it was Friday night after all.

You kept cooking, smiling and listening to how Shouyo complained to his teammate how evil he was with him when he was all nice to him.

"Alright you two…" you meddled, smiling happily at the incessant noise from everyone around, "If you're gonna keep arguing, you could at least help on setting the table, right?"

They both nodded while moving around to find what they needed, still arguing, but now about something else which sounded like Shouyo's height. Omi loved getting on Shouyo's nerves when it came to his height.

"What's that, Y/N?" Shouyo suddenly asked, signaling to a set of a plate, forks, a glass and a mug that were separated in a corner of the cupboard.

"Oh. That's Omi's," you said, your attention anywhere but said man.

"I don't remember leaving my stuff here," he commented, with no mean intention in his voice towards you.

"No, I mean… I know you don't like your stuff mixed with everyone's, so I picked a set I always clean twice and kept it separated from everything else. No one touches or uses that but you," you answered him, still looking at the food you were cooking over the oven.

Oh, God, kill me now, was all you thought as silence reigned in the kitchen.

But then, you felt a tall, warm presence behind you. You knew it was Omi, Shouyou was not that tall–he was only a head over yours, while you knew Omi was much taller.

It was the first time the Sakusa Kiyoomi got that close to you and it shocked you to the core. But what surprised you the most was when you felt his chin rest on your head comfortably.

"Thank you, Y/N," you could feel the vibrations of his deep voice and the rumble of his chest on your back saying your name, his entire dark but comfy aura so close to you, all you could think was how good it felt.

If you would have turned a bit to Shouyo's direction, you would have seen him with his eyes open wide, like those funny cartoons where their eyes popped off their face to express shock. Thankfully, he didn't say anything, he simply turned on his feet and flew from the kitchen to the living room where Tsumu and Boo were.

"You're welcome," was all you could say, almost a whisper, as he comfortably stayed there, barely a centimeter of distance between his body and yours.

If you weren't shocked enough by that, you definitely almost collapsed when you felt one of his fingers timidly caress your hand that was not holding the spoon you were cooking with, resting next to your hip. It had been barely a touch, yet the warmth and little tingling it provoked made you take a deep breath to gather your mind straight.

If you hadn't before, now you definitely were falling for this rare specimen. 

my boredom and desire to not do what i’m supposed to be doing know no bounds, so here are some Haikyuu!! team banner headers 

Like/Reblog if you use :)

Flowers [K. B]

Kaz Brekker x reader

word count: 8.4k

summary: some jealousy motivates Kaz to finally face how he feels about you

A/N: I have literally weeks writing this and I hope I got it right, I tried to write the reaction of jealousy as appropriate to Kaz as possible lmao. Also, when this Freddy photoshoot came out I just imagined. You'll find out later, I hope you enjoy it!

taglist: @rustyyyyspoonz @be-lla-vie @milkshake0 @ladespedidas

Kaz took a deep breath before opening the door, bracing himself for what he would face as he crossed into the next room, already a tremendous hubbub.

It was Inej's birthday and you had insisted on throwing her a celebration, something everyone else was excited about, because you thought that of all of you she was the most likely not to have had such a party. Well, actually the main candidate was Kaz but he would kill all of you when he found out that you had arranged a surprise for him.

You had decorated the room in The Slat and you had invited (threatened, rather) the members of The Dregs so that they would celebrate your friend and you also invited (to them, kindly) some girls from The Menagerie, with the security that if someone tried to touch them you would defend them. You also told the criminals that if they thought of bringing a gift they would make sure that it was not stolen, nor was it stained with blood, nor was it from the corpse of a dead person. And so far everything was perfect.

"Kaz!" he was greeted by Per Haskell, who had been playing cards at a table and already had a couple of drinks on him "Son, I admit that when you said you wanted to have a party I thought you were crazy, but this is great."

"Y/N wanted to do it, I didn't" he murmured sincerely and Per just laughed. Parties weren't really his thing, though he'd probably feel better after some alcohol. He looked for his usual group to get closer to them and not die from the anxiety that social situations generated in him.

He found five of his crows chatting and laughing at a table on which was an empty chair, which Kaz thought was surely for him.

"Look who decided to join the party" Nina mocked, looking at the black-haired boy with a smile.

"Happy birthday, Inej" he murmured politely, as he handed the girl a leather case containing a nice set of knives. Her eyes lit up as she thanked her friend and Kaz allowed himself to smile "Is anyone sitting here?"

"Y/N" replied Jesper, who had an arm around Wylan's shoulders "But she's been missing for a while."

"Maybe she's helping out in the kitchen," suggested Matthias, who was feeling more relaxed than usual.

"Huh-uh" Wylan denied, with a mischievous smile, while he took a sip of his drink "Look there" he exclaimed and his head pointed surreptitiously in one direction.

All eyes at the table looked at you at the bar and Kaz, who hadn't seen you before, was surprised by how jovial you looked. You had left your hair loose and you were wearing light-colored clothing, very different from the usual black, gray, or brown, along with ribbon adorning your hair, but the smile that this generated in the black-haired man was replaced by a frown upon noticing that you were smiling broadly towards another person. Towards a man.

"That girl is on fire" the Grisha mocked, quite proud, and the others made similar comments, between laughs.

"Who is that?" Kaz hissed, sounding angrier than he intended, at Inej, who was closest to him and most likely to know the answer due to your friendship.

“A new guy that Per hired, I thought you knew him. I heard that he comes from Shu Han”

At that moment he turned around and he could see the features that demonstrated that theory: tanned skin, slightly slanted eyes, and black hair. He wore a simple outfit, in very poor taste according to Kaz, and he couldn't have been more than 17 years old. He was just a brat who was too close to you.

Although he didn't say anything, you only needed to see the expression on his face to know that he wasn't happy, something that fortunately no one paid attention to, because they assumed that it was just a normal reaction in Kaz when seeing any kind of displays of affection.

"He's handsome," Jesper muttered, and Wylan turned to give him a pointed glare. "I mean, not like you, nobody's as handsome as you, but he… got his stuff."

Was he really handsome? Kaz didn't know if he was in a position to judge that, since he didn't even know if he was what someone would consider 'attractive'. That had never bothered him, of course, he was simply curious as to what the others might think. What could you think about, actually.

Most of them decided that the matter didn't deserve any more importance and they continued talking about other things, almost all of them logically related to Inej, however, he couldn't take his eyes off you and your peculiar company for even a second. He noticed you chuckled softly and when you did, he could see the guy across from you reach out to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear; Kaz squeezed his cane to appease the urge to go do the same to the aforementioned neck.

Almost as if you felt the heavy gaze you looked in his direction and when your eyes met you smiled reflexively, making his heart race. You still chatted for a while, but your attention wasn't entirely on your new friend now that you were aware of Kaz in the great room. In due course you apologized to him and before saying goodbye he stroked your arm too confidently, promising that he would make sure to look for you later. After he left you practically ran to the table where your friends were.

"Y/N" Inej laughed, feeling you hug her from behind.

“How is the most beautiful birthday girl in the place doing?” you asked excitedly, kissing her on the top of the head and hearing her reply that everything was excellent “Oh, hello, Mr. Brekker. What a joy that you honor us with your presence” you joked as if you had barely noticed, and you were disappointed to see the unfriendly look he gave you.

“Who was the young man you were talking to?” Nina asked casually, while her boyfriend shook his head at how gossipy she was sometimes.

"Lior?" you muttered. So that was the name that should be written on the tombstone "It's huh... a new guy, he was thanking me for inviting him"

“I hope he doesn't get used to it,” Kaz said grudgingly. “Don't think there will be any more birthday parties. Much less with all these Dregs”

A collective groan was heard, alleging that the boss was very bitter and appealing to 'healthy coexistence', which amused you.

"That was my chair, shall I sit on your lap or shall we bring a new one?" you exclaimed, close to the man's ear. Kaz didn't expect that and it was obvious you didn't mean it, but he had to abruptly get up from his chair and walk away, leaving all of you stunned.

"What did you say to him?"

"Nothing! I just told him that I was sitting there, but I was kidding, I didn't want him to leave”

“That's how he is,” Inej said, with a touch of bitterness and a shrug. But you didn't take that so lightly, you hated that Kaz was mad at you because he made you feel so guilty, even if you didn't know what he was mad at. Maybe you had crossed some line? You weren't even going to! It had only been nonsense that had escaped your lips for the liquid value that you had ingested.

You ended up taking the chair that he had left empty and although you participated actively in the conversation you couldn't help but feel restless. Of course you didn't know that Kaz had left there to prevent you from noticing his cheeks flushed with fury at the scene he had seen and the way you had said the name of this Lior guy, a blush that only increased when he felt your breath so close to his skin and hear your soft voice.

First he had to calm down, why had that bothered him in the first place? Although he was aware of a certain protective relationship that he had towards all of you, it was not normal to feel that anger when you were talking to someone else, or when another man was touching you. Jesper was constantly holding your hand, once he had found you and Wylan cuddled up sleeping on a couch and you always challenged Matthias to fights you knew you weren't going to win and he just laughed it off, making no effort. But that was different, he had touched you… with other intentions. Kaz was no fool and he knew better than anyone that you were beautiful in every way, no matter how hard he tried to deny it. He maybe couldn't appreciate the masculine beauty, but, although it was not in his total interest, he could judge the feminine. So he was mad because a guy was interested in you? Was that what explained the heat that grew in his chest and that now he himself was torturing him? But why?

“Kaz Brekker?” said a voice behind him. He had gone outside to get some air and didn't recognize who had called him until he turned around. Today was his damn lucky day "My name is Lior, Per said that you are like the boss"

"I'm not like the boss" Kaz replied with total contempt "I'm the boss"

"Huh, yeah, sure. I'm sorry. I just wanted to introduce myself” Kaz looked at him without saying anything, obviously trying to make the other understand that he had no interest in meeting him, and the boy took the opportunity to clear his throat before speaking again “And… ask you if… a girl I was talking to is from your team. She mentioned you before, her name is Y/N”

Kaz didn't know what that Lior had in mind to go and ask him such a thing, but for a moment he believed in the Saints and thanked them for making him so stupid.

"And what does that interest you, silly boy?" he muttered. Lior was probably the same age as Kaz, but the black-haired man had the advantage of being a few inches taller, of having an imposing presence leaning on his cane, and of… well, being the fucking boss.

"In nothing, I just thought I'd ask you" replied Lior, visibly dismayed by the unexpected hostility of his new leader, and mistakenly thinking that he would fix something, he continued: "She's very kind and I wanted to get to know her better, I thought you could help me”

“You're here to steal, spy and obey orders, you're not here to meet girls, let alone someone like her. So I recommend you keep your distance and focus on the job, which is why we hired you”

and that the contrary had contained himself a little. For a moment he thought that Kaz took his job very, very seriously (it was partly true) so that's why he had been so annoyed at the suggestion of him looking for one of his close friends. He never knew that he was mad to hear that someone so vulgar wanted to befriend his Y/N.

"Kaz!" for a second he thought he was imagining your voice, but when you appeared a few seconds later he knew it wasn't like that "I was looking for you, you... Lior" you interrupted yourself, looking at the other young man who had paled a little "I see that you are already met"

"Yes, we already had the fortune" he answered with all the sarcasm existing in his body, although you didn't notice it.

"I was leaving, anyway"

“Wait, have this,” you said, handing the boy a piece of paper “It's a restaurant, Nina and I go there for breakfast all the time. If you ever want to join us, just say so” Your tone was so kind and your face so happy that Kaz was afraid he would start foaming at the mouth.

"Yes, I..." Lior didn't dare look at Kaz, who was watching him with murderous eyes "I'll think about it, bye"

"Bye," you replied, a little disappointed by his lack of effusiveness.

"You really want to make new friends," he snorted with inevitable scorn.

“Well yeah, my old friends run away from me,” you muttered, keeping your tone playful no matter how upset he was. Then you sighed and got a little more serious, “Listen, I know you hate parties and people, but I would really appreciate it if you were with us at the table. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but I did this to have a fun time and to make Inej happy. There is alcohol inside, if you don't like it, I can find you something better to prepare the drink you prefer but, please, stay even for a while"

His frown on him relaxed considerably as he watched your pleading eyes looking down at him but the unknown feeling towards the new guy grew like flames consuming an entire forest. You had told him where you used to go for breakfast, which meant you wanted to see him again.

“Only if you promise not to go out with that idiot” 

“With Lior? And why shouldn't I?

"I already told you. He's an idiot" he said simply and you laughed.

"And how do you know?"

"He looks like one"

"You're going to need a better reason than that and probably a bouquet to convince me otherwise," you muttered, totally sure that the latter was so ridiculous that it would only prove that you weren't going to change your mind. Lior wasn't the most handsome guy for you, that place was reserved for someone special, but you had decided that giving him a chance wasn't such a bad idea “Come on, don't be grumpy, and let's go in there. I got a cake and you don't want to miss it,” you said, starting to walk back inside, and after sighing Kaz followed you without question.

Once morning came the birthday cheer was gone and things went on as usual; going to the Crow club, keeping order at The Barrel, odd jobs, and a couple of unfortunate fights.

In the span of a week you had already seen Lior at least three times, and he always seemed to be conveniently close to various places you frequented. Being with him was nice and little by little you were getting used to his company, the only thing that seemed too strange to you was that every time Kaz appeared in the same place as you he said goodbye and left immediately before your boss could see it. You assumed he was just afraid of him, like most people, and you didn't say anything.

Suddenly you began to think that you had hardly seen the man in those days and you wondered if he was attending to your basic needs since you had hardly seen him go to the kitchen of the place for the food that you prepared. Sometimes loaves of bread would disappear, but that was Fahey's trademark.

"You are listening?" asked Lior, who was in front of you at a betting table and had brought you out of your musings. You were taking a break at the club and again he was hanging around so you thought about having a drink but right now you only remembered the beginning of what he had been saying to you so you couldn't lie to him even if you wanted to. You just smiled embarrassedly in response, making him laugh. "Too much to think about?"

"No, none of that. I was only gone for a moment"

"Well," he started to say, with what you'd already recognized as a flirtatious smile, "I hope I can find you when that happens."

You were going to answer something when you heard a fight near you. A couple of drunks had a disagreement over who had won the game and they thought the most effective way to settle it was beating. You quickly got up from your chair to separate them and had to dodge the fists several times, having no luck a couple of times. Lior was about to jump in to help you when suddenly one of the men fell to the ground with a thud. Everyone in the room looked in the direction of whoever had knocked him down and there was the only logical option.

"If you guys want to beat up each other like animals, do it outside my establishment," was all Kaz said. You were still holding the other man back, but he didn't put up much of a fight when he and his friend were escorted outside. You shook off your jacket and rubbed your arm where one of them had managed to hit you.

This time Lior couldn't escape the boss's eyes and Kaz felt his blood boil again at the sight of his face. He still didn't fully understand the nature of his feelings, but it was clear to him that he didn't want you near that boy after a couple of days when you no longer stopped by to say hello in his office or struck up a conversation with him. Although, indeed, he was never the most sociable now he wanted to make an effort to spend more time with you, but he had difficulties finding ways to do it.

"Damn drunks, huh?"

“Did they hurt you?" he asked quietly. You looked up in confusion and took a moment to process it. Was Kaz worrying about you?

I mean, he cared for all of you during missions and times of real danger, but on those occasions he just saw to it that you stayed alive and continued his duties. It was weird hearing something verbal.

"Nothing I can't handle," you replied, with a challenging little smile.

“I want you to help me with some things. Unless you're busy…”

Saying this he looked at the skinny boy behind you, who looked away immediately. If there was one thing to be recognized about Kaz, it was how he never showed fragility and therefore forced others to surrender first.

"It's that urgent?"

"So I would say"

Now it was you who held his gaze for a few seconds, looking for something implicit that would reveal why he now wanted to take you to another place, but there was nothing. There was only neutrality in those beautiful blue eyes.

“Lior, I have to go. Some work" you exclaimed and he internally celebrated the apparent victory that you had chosen him over someone else, although the satisfaction was short-lived when he saw that you took a step and planted a kiss on the boy's cheek.

Kaz thought about how he wasn't mad at you, but at him, and it suddenly dawned on him that he was actually jealous. That was what he was feeling like a plague.

Jealousy.

You noticed the radical change in his attitude when he didn't even look at you and began to walk quickly down the hall, so you had to speed up to keep up with him. Worst of all, he didn't really have anything he needed help with, he'd just said it so you wouldn't be with the Shu boy, so when you set foot in the office he was stunned.

“I want you to help me sort these documents by date,” he said, extending in your direction a huge folder that he found in a drawer that only contained papers from the previous year. It was not necessary to order that because he had already used it, but he preferred to ask you that than look completely dumb. 

"And the magic words?"

"Abracadabra?" he said sarcastically, but he sighed heavily at the sight of your crossed arms and your clear intentions of not taking the folder until he said so "Please, Y/N"

“Do you see how cute you sound being a polite child?” you exclaimed to annoy him and before another complaint you took the things and placed yourself in an empty end of the desk.

Kaz watched you from time to time, intent on your task, your lips slightly pouting, and each time he did he felt his heart swell. 

What was happening to him? he was afraid that he would find out and not like the answer.

You finished in record time and he let you off to wherever you wanted to go through the door, a little worried that it was with the new kid. As soon as you left he took his hat, coat, and cane to go directly to The Slat, hoping that the person he needed was there.

He knocked on the door a couple of times, but no one answered and for a moment he felt desperate. He badly needed the help of the one person he knew who wouldn't judge him for asking obvious questions and also had enough discretion so that others wouldn't realize he suspected he had feelings for you. He suspected. 

He was going to make one last attempt which wasn't necessary as the door swung open as he raised his fist, revealing a small figure with loose hair and less weaponry than usual.

“Kaz?”

"Hello, Inej"

You were sitting in the dining room of your shared house, pouring yourself some coffee in a chipped cup hoping it was strong enough to wake you up, while you racked your brains trying to solve the mystery that had been bothering you for a few days ago. 

Turns out, after the drunken brawl incident and helping Kaz, you had gone to rest, falling asleep on the bed almost immediately. No problem with that. The strange thing was that the next day you had woken up with a bouquet of wildflowers of various colors resting on the nightstand. The first time you thought that you had put it there and you didn’t remember it, so you just sniffed it with pleasure and placed it in a glass of water. Normal day, you went to sleep at the end and the next morning there it was again. You knew that it was not the one you had collected the day before because these were in the glass. A little confused, you put the new flowers with the old ones and continued with your day, without imagining that the next morning things would repeat themselves. Three times in a row was already disturbing, so you made an effort to imagine who was the author of all this. If it was the girls, it was nice that they had such detail, and you could have even tolerated it from Jes, Wylan, or Matthias, but if it was an outsider then it was a worrying situation because it implied that a lunatic had been messing around to your room at night for a week straight. You made sure to lock your room and still, the flowers appeared there, as if it were a magic trick.

Was it Lior? Impossible, or you would have seen him come in in the morning or at night. Also, one day you had woken up earlier than usual and even that time the flowers were there.

"Bonjour" greeted an energetic Jesper, who had appeared still in nightwear, and ruffled your hair as he approached you "You don't look very lively"

"I am not a morning person," you said sipping your coffee.

One by one your other companions joined the morning coffee, Kaz being the last to arrive. It was funny how much 'morning drinks' could say about each of you: Inej drank coffee with some sugar, Jesper coffee with cream, Wylan drank tea, Matthias just milk, Nina hot chocolate and lastly you and Kaz shared a taste for the coffee bitter and very hot, so it was not a surprise that when he arrived you already had a cup for him.

“We're running low on supplies,” Matthias announced, pointing to the empty cupboard, to which you groaned.

None of you had any culinary skills, but since you were the least likely to give them food poisoning, they had all decided that you would be the designated cook, which included doing the shopping.

"I'll go to the market later"

“I will accompany you,” Kaz said, so fast that they all fell silent and turned their heads to look at him. Observing the situation, he adopted a defensive attitude "I need to buy some things too and I have to make sure Y/N isn't wasting money"

“Sure, my specialty is diverting resources by saying I bought potatoes,” you joked, rolling your eyes. “If you want to go with me, let's go now. At this time there are fewer people" you explained and he nodded. You just finished drinking your coffee and grabbed a large bag in which you loaded the food before leaving the building.

As soon as you got out, they started speculating.

"Why did Kaz want to go?"

"I wonder the same thing"

“Maybe he really did have things to buy,” Matthias said, and though Nina heard her black-haired man's racing heart, she decided not to contradict anyone. Inej looked at her almost as if she read her thoughts and they both shared a knowing look without saying anything.

On the way to the market, neither of you spoke, but he noted that you were right when you said that the city was quieter at that time, probably because life in The Barrel really began when night fell.

The market was quite a distance away, but he put up with it like a champ, so when you got there you were very hungry and you assumed he was the same.

“Eat,” you said suddenly, extending to Kaz a piece of bread with jam inside that you loved to buy when you went there “I pay for this with my own money, by the way. So you don't accuse me of being a thief."

"You are a thief," he reminded you, grimacing and taking a bite of the piece of food. It was sweet, freshly made, and melted in the mouth.

You two walked for a couple of blocks, still in silence, while you were choosing food. You were wondering what those 'things' were that Kaz needed to buy and when he would ask you to make a detour to a store, but the moment didn’t seem to come, which made you suspect that there was really no such reason and it was just an excuse. You were curious as to what he might be looking for by doing that and you let your mind wander to possible answers, from when he was looking for advice he didn't yet know how to ask to when he just needed some fresh air and jumped at the chance, without you being involved in any way.

Kaz, for his part, was entering a crisis. He wanted to talk to you and have a nice time but he didn't know how to do it. He had thought that, once you were alone, the words would sprout by themselves and then you would continue the conversation, however, he had limited himself to watching you feel the fruits to decide which was ripe and which was not.

“Do you think she really likes that boy?”

“I don't know” Inej had told him “But I don't think that's the case either” she continued and her friend nodded her head “I think what she likes about him is that she listens to her and keeps her company; he is attentive to her. You could start there."

"Are you hungry?"

"A little, nothing that will kill me"

"Let's have breakfast" he murmured. Did it sound like an order? Yes, but he hoped to get a little better with practice.

"Only if you pay" you answered with a mischievous smile.

He led you to a small establishment you'd never been to, which he probably chose because he was all alone, and you sat at one of the little tables with worn cushioned chairs, facing each other. The question you wanted to ask him was on the tip of your tongue, but you were still working up the courage to gesticulate it.

Kaz ordered some eggs and bacon and since you were craving something sweet you ordered some fried dough stuffed with currants, on the recommendation of your companion, and both of you ordered the second coffee of the day.

"And what is?"

"What is what?"

“The deal” you exclaimed, as if it were obvious, but he didn't seem to understand “I suppose if we came here alone it's so you can ask me to make a deal. Steal, spy on someone right?"

He was stunned for a moment. Didn't you notice the effort he was making? Was that your idea of his actions? Honestly he couldn't blame you, because, probably, in other circumstances that would have been the case to isolate himself from the others in the group. But not now.

"There's nothing" he replied, but you narrowed your eyes to let him know that you didn't believe him "No tricks, I promise"

"So does that mean I'm the boss's favorite?" you asked with mock enthusiasm, deciding to play with his patience a bit.

"Shut up or you're going to lose your privileges," he countered. It felt good to tease you, have a little fun for a change.

You were sitting there until the mass of people that gathered at noon allowed it and then you returned to The Slat with your hands loaded with bags that at some point in the day you would place in the cupboard, not wanting to do it immediately so as not to spoil the atmosphere of peace between you and Kaz, who hadn't left you yet.

“Anything in particular you want for lunch?” you asked, moving closer to him. It was just the two of you in the kitchen and the rest of the place was relatively quiet. "You know, to offer you privileges to threaten you with later."

He almost laughed, but the suppressed smile you saw on him was enough to make you want to see more. You and Kaz were friends (or so you hoped, at least) but there weren't many memories between you like that, almost all of them were related to work or at the club or with one of you saving the other's ass. You had only once helped him heal a wound, just because he couldn't reach that section of his back and then he justified himself by asking for your help by saying that it had been partly your fault, which was totally false but that you weren't going to argue with him if that made him feel less embarrassed.

It felt different, like something more relaxed, soft… more domestic. You had just returned from shopping together, you had eaten an exquisite breakfast that he paid for and now you were asking him what he wanted you to prepare for him to eat… were you a couple of criminals or a newly married couple? 

The thought of a marriage with Kaz warmed your cheeks and you wanted to laugh at how absurd that would be.

"Whatever you want, anyway, my stomach already has enough defenses against indigestion" upon hearing this you barely pushed his arm, but as soon as you did, your eyes widened as you remembered who you were talking to, although to your surprise he didn’t complain.

"I'll make pea soup," you informed. You knew it was one of his favorites because of the second course he always served himself when he thought no one else was looking. You did, you looked at Kaz Brekker all the time.

He just hummed in the affirmative and left without another word.

During the course of the morning you did more activities, but you couldn't stop thinking about him and the walk they had taken together. Suddenly you would surprise yourself remembering his expressions at your bad jokes and smiling like a fool when you thought about how beautiful his eyes looked with the brightness of that morning.

Kaz ever had a partner? Did he like someone? Was he even interested in those things? You didn't know, but it wasn't a crime to have some admiration for him either, right? Jeez, he'd only been a little nice to you, why were you so excited about that?

You had never thought about whether you had feelings for him, beyond the initial working relationship that had now become a kind of family bond, although now you were reflecting on it.

And later, when his expression brightened from the plate of food you served him, you felt that it might not be such a wrong idea.

I like your smile.

It was the only note that had been left with the flowers, which you had been receiving for quite some time. Always without fail, always on the nightstand in your room.

Although you were worried about who this "secret admirer" might be, your curiosity was greater and you had been careful not to mention anything to your friends. Well, it was really just the boys, because Inej and Nina knew a lot about things, since the jobs to steal were scarce lately, you guys had more time to do anything else. 

Kaz trusted any of you so he let you roam the Crow club as you please, but also to check that things were in order: no scammers, control fights, check that the girls weren't harassed by the clients, things like that.

That night the club was short of a barista, so you and Wylan had split the responsibility for it by taking turns meeting the demand.

He was more skilled than you at making cocktails, perhaps due to his chemical mixing skills, but still the boy was patient with you and he only laughed when you messed up.

"I prefer this to be like poor Jes” you muttered amused, because from where you could see the boy sitting next to the door playing with one of his guns, obviously annoyed because Kaz had ordered him to stay away from the gaming tables. You thought that Wylan also had something to do with it, because they both hated that it fueled their gambling problem "But I need to distract myself a bit, will you be okay by yourself?" you asked. You knew he would be fine so you walked out of the bar without much guilt.

You were taking a walk among the tables when you felt someone grab your arm and you turned defensively. It was Lior, who you had already served too many drinks for a person of his size and now he was suffering the consequences. After serving perhaps the fifth in a row you got a little worried, but you didn't want to intervene because you thought it was none of your business. As long as he paid them, you had no objection.

"Y/N," he said, drawing out his tongue. Several of the Dregs were standing around him, apparently also drinking some beer, and were watching you curiously. "Sit with us," he ordered, patting an unoccupied chair next to him.

You didn't want to be rude and tried to say you were working now, but he was insistent until you agreed to sit down for a few minutes. The other men weren't chatting with you, probably as a matter of avoiding trouble with the boss, but Lior was particularly eloquent. As an effect of alcohol, he didn’t measure distances and sometimes he would spill some beer near you or invade your personal space to talk to you. You let it go because you didn't want to cause a conflict and, to a certain extent, it was tolerable.

But after a while, his behavior became more annoying. He was holding your hand and even tried to stroke your leg, but what made you jump back was when he leaned in for a kiss. Luckily you had been faster.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" you asked flustered, drawing the attention of the others at the table.

"Oh, don't pretend you don't want to" he replied. His body leaned towards you again and you moved further away, which made him annoyed "I've seen how you look at me"

"Sorry, what?"

"You want me," he stated. You were suddenly startled by the confidence with which he was saying that and how deep his voice sounded, like that of a wild animal. And, from his perception, you played the role of the prey.

"That’s not true, fuck you," you spat, getting up from your chair, but you were stopped by his strong grip on your forearm.

"Come on, Y/N. You like me and I like you, stop making yourself difficult"

"I told you no" you exclaimed with a trembling voice. The problem wasn't whether or not you could face the boy, but that he had caught you off guard. Although it was true that you liked him a little, you weren't going to allow him to want to kiss you just like that, to say the least… because judging from his insistence, you doubted that a kiss was all he wanted.

You almost screamed as he pulled you towards him and this caught the attention of several people around you, but before you could do anything an object came between you and threw Lior back into his chair in one movement.

It was a cane.

It was clear that by this point several tables had already stopped their games to pay attention to the menacing expression of the bastard with the barrel hovering over a drunken kid imprisoned in his chair.

"No means no" Kaz said slowly and quite close to the challenging face of the opponent. It was almost like he had been watching you the whole time, waiting for the perfect moment to intervene, or maybe he just had a sixth sense that would alert him when one of his crows was in trouble.

He thought that this would be enough to scare the boy and withdrew the cane from his chest, intending to turn around to check on your well-being, but he did not count on the fact that Lior's drunken state also gave him the courage to dare to jump in to hit him. The black-haired man's instinct made him turn around just in time to stop the drunk and throw him face-first against the table, holding his folded hand against his back.

If there was anyone left who hadn't noticed the discussion that was enough for them to notice, including Wylan, Jesper, and Matthias who had risen from their places to intervene if necessary. But it probably wouldn't. Kaz was furious.

You saw him whisper in the boy's ear and you knew it was a threat from the expression on his face, in addition to the groan of pain that the youngest emanated when Kaz mercilessly pulled his arm.

He remained in that position for a moment, completely blinded by anger, enjoying the cries of pain the shu boy was making.

"Get him out of here" Kaz ordered The Dregs, who had been watching everything in silence. You also didn't get to hear what he said to one of them, but the chances of Lior waking up the next day in pain from a beating were pretty high.

As you backed away you collided with a huge body and calmed down to see that it was Matthias, asking if you were okay. It didn't take long for all the men of the team to gather around you to ask what had happened, but you were still a little stunned to answer coherently.

Even so, you looked for Kaz's gaze just to realize him and he didn't look angry, but worried and his eyes were in charge of communicating everything that his mouth didn't. Somehow you quietly reassured him too, but he couldn't bear to see the glitter that threatened to turn to tears.

"Thank you" you managed to whisper, still a little nervous.

“Take the night off,” the black-haired man murmured, again sounding more like an order than a suggestion. “Walk her to The Slat, Jesper. Matthias, stay at the door”

The three of them returned to their respective posts and for a moment you thought that Kaz was also going to accompany you, but when you looked back he was already rushing with a firm step towards the door where the rest of his men had left.

Once you were in your room, and Jesper made sure for the thousandth time that you were okay, the feeling of discomfort eased considerably, but you noticed the bruise already beginning to form on your forearm from the man's grip.

What had happened to him? He had always been kind to you and respectful... you didn't even think that he would behave like that with you. You were disgusted and even scared by how quickly things had happened, but you were infinitely grateful that Kaz had come like a guardian angel to help you. You probably could have handled that on your own, however, the shock of receiving that kind of treatment from a person you were beginning to trust and even care for was what put you at a disadvantage.

You struggled a lot to fall asleep, because a part of you felt very hurt and sad to think that you didn’t deserve to have sincere love, but one where they only wanted you for physical matters.

Also, the flowers didn't arrive that morning.

When you finally got out of bed you were having trouble concentrating on anything and Nina had to take care of breakfast because you were too sensitive to do anything. This didn’t go unnoticed and everyone insisted that you rest a little more, but when Kaz arrived and realized the situation he didn’t wait to take action on the matter.

“We’re going out,” he said, when he finally intercepted you alone in the kitchen area, even though you weren't in much of a mood at all.

"A job?"

"A walk" he corrected you. You looked confused but didn't say anything and when it was time to leave The Slat you realized that Kaz wasn't talking about hanging out in a group, but just the two of you.

You didn't know where he was taking you, yet the road was as silent as usual. He watched you out of the corner of his eye just to see if your features changed in any way with the landscape, the aromas, or the morning breeze, but he felt a little disappointed when he noticed that your expression was still serious and even a little sad.

He wished he had taken more time with Lior last night.

"He won't bother you again" when he remembered that, he felt the need to let you know that now you could rest easy, and that you know that he himself had taken care of dealing with the matter.

"I don't doubt it," you said, letting out a bitter laugh. You knew what Kaz was capable of when he was angry. "It's just... I feel silly."

"Did you love him?" the man asked. You had already arrived at the place where he wanted to take you in the first place: it was a small meadow, with a lonely bench and too much life to be in the sad and gloomy Ketterdam. It was like finding a little piece of heaven on earth.

“Love him? By God, no, of course not. It was nice to be with him, but… talking about love is too strong. He was just an idiot”

"I'm sorry this has happened" he exclaimed, a little calmer after hearing your negative words about the other man, and at the same time the fact that you were alone gave him a little more confidence to say what he was thinking without being judged, trying to make you realize that he really cared about you.

"It's okay" you smiled to reassure him. He was going to say something else when a purple stain caught his attention under the sleeve of your dress that you had already risked up to the biceps. The night before he didn't notice that the boy had hurt you when he struggled and at that moment his blood boiled with anger "It's nice"

"What?"

"The place," you said, looking everywhere; the slightly gray sky, the birds flying around, the flowers growing next to your feet, and Kaz right in front of you. All of that made up the beauty you were talking about. "Why did you bring me here?"

"I thought maybe you needed to calm down a bit"

"Then you're a good friend," you said softly. Kaz couldn't remember anyone using that term with as much fondness filtered into their voices as you just did.

Friends. You were friends, you loved him at least a little.

"I hope so. I don't have much practice” he confessed and you smiled tenderly. Although you wanted to keep seeing Kaz, something in you forced you to look at the floor, as if there was something there calling you.

The flowers… were those flowers. You could recognize them after receiving them for days and keeping them fresh in the vase: there were the yellow ones and the lilac ones, both with small petals and a brown center.

You paused for a moment to make sure you weren't misreading or confusing things, but when you knelt down to pick up a cluster you knew for a fact that your theory was correct.

"What a curious thing"

"The flowers?" he asked, trying to sound as calm as possible. Even though you couldn't see his face, you somehow knew he was frowning.

“I've been getting exactly these kinds of flowers every weekday for a while now,” you said, getting up and showing Kaz the plants. “The stranger places them on my nightstand before I wake up, every time, without fail. Except for today"

"Maybe I wanted you to come to see them in person"

You froze in place, not expecting such a quick confession from him, and he looked at your face for a reaction. You were still holding the cluster in your hand and you unconsciously squeezed it hard.

In a panic you tried to find another interpretation of his words that didn’t imply the fact that he was the author of those signs of love, but you couldn’t find it. And from the man's slightly embarrassed face, you assumed that was true.

But the worst thing about it was the existence of the note that had kept you tossing and turning the day you received it. I like your smile. Kaz had written that too?

"So... it was you"

"Who did you have in mind?" he asked, a bit defensive, and you smiled, shaking your head.

“No one, I didn’t imagine who it could be. Honestly, at first, it scared me to think that someone was stalking me” you said sincerely. You looked at the bouquet of flowers again and noticed that some were withered, thinking that Kaz probably always chose the prettiest ones to take with you. You fell silent, not of your choice, but because he wasn't saying anything, and then you closed the distance between you by taking a small step forward, still respecting his personal space but enough to make the conversation intimate. “Why did you do that?”

Words were never Kaz's strong suit and he felt his throat tighten as he tried to answer you. What could I tell you about that? Did he himself have a coherent reason for doing that?

He thought you were going to get mad at his silence, but you smiled tenderly because, although he didn't realize it, once again his eyes had been in charge of telling you everything he was keeping quiet about.

"I like them a lot" you spoke again. If he wasn't ready to tell you, you weren't going to push him "I put them in a vase every day and when they're withered I put them in a box" you confessed. Fearing rejection, you lowered your hand to his, took it for a moment to place it higher, and then placed your own flowers in his hand. He held them tremblingly "Calm down, I'm not going to tell anyone"

"Tell them what?"

"I'm the boss’s favorite" you joked and a knot formed in Kaz's stomach when he saw that your eyes dropped for a second to his lips and you licked yours, perhaps unconsciously. You pulled away from him because you thought he might be uncomfortable with the closeness and instead, you left him wanting to have been in that position a little longer “Do you want us to sit here? I like to watch the birds”

He ignored you and a few minutes later you two were sitting next to each other, still saying nothing. Kaz was looking at you out of the corner of his eye and he thought he couldn't be prouder that your sad expression was gone.

And how was I to be? If you had just discovered that you had the sympathy of the man you admired most in all of Kerch.

"You were right," he spoke suddenly, snapping you out of your thoughts about what it would feel like to be a bird and be able to fly.

"About what?"

"You're my favorite. As a person. You are my favorite person” he managed to say. His look from him was sweet and sincere "And I like to see you smile"

"You already told me," you said, trying to suppress a smile and feeling how the blood rose to your cheeks. It took you a moment to dare to say what you were thinking. “I appreciate you, Kaz. I mean it very seriously."

You two stayed there for what seemed like hours and just enjoyed each other's quiet company, the sound of the wind, and the sight of the place. You looked at the horizon and he watched you covertly, thinking about everything he would be able to do to keep you out of the dangers of the world and what he had not realized until the night before when your integrity was threatened. 

One of your knees collided with his and Kaz, instead of pulling away from him, moved his knee slightly to rub against yours.

That day a silent pact had been sealed between you. He loved you and so did you.

No more words were necessary. Just lots of flowers.