AU Bartosz Tiedemann Dating Headcanons
Request: Hiii! I love your writing! Could you do some headcanons about dating AU Bartosz? He seems so soft and a little shy đ„ș I love him sm â€ïž
Look at him!! Heâs BABY!
First off, before the apocalypse happened, you spent Christmas day over at his house. The two of you spent the morning fixing up the Christmas tree while his parents drank hot cocoa in bed, his chin resting against the curve of your neck, squishing familiarly against your cheek as you unwrapped the last bit of newspaper and took out the last silvery ornament for the Christmas tree: a frail thing like a silver plum, with deep rosy indentations on each side.
When it was time to open presents, the delight in his eyes when he unwrapped the one you gave him was picture worthy. Since itâs always raining in Winden, you decided to buy him that soft, tartan scarf that he always wears. Heâd spotted it in the window of one of Windenâs antique thrift stores last autumn, and you had known then that you had to buy it for him by the way his eyes lit up.
He genuinely wears it all the time, because itâs the most heartfelt present anyoneâs ever given him, and it smells ever so slightly like you. Itâs like always being wrapped up in a comfy, warm hug, even when heâs not with you.
The first time you knew for certain that he was in to you, in to you, was when Magnus and Martha came over to his house for a sleepover. They were spread out over the cream plush rug in front of the television, half a bowl of popcorn lying deserted between their heads. You and Bartosz had decided to take the couch, you sitting uncomfortably close to him, a navy blanket thrown over the two of you, while his fingers tapped nervously against the armrest.
When he was certain that Magnus was pretty much asleep on the floor, and that Martha was too engrossed on her phone to pay attention to the movie, his breath hitched slightly as his hand dove underneath the blanket to grab onto yours. It was slightly sweaty, but his grip was so tight as his fingers wrapped around yours that it made your heart flutter.
He was too nervous to look over at you to see your reaction, but when Martha turned around and pieced together what was going on, she just blurted out âfinally!â
You spend most nights climbing the massive tree right by his window and sneaking in just to hold him after his mum passes away. One of his legs wraps over your waist like a big koala bear, soft whines protruding from his plump lips as one slender arm finds its way to cup your side, snuggling into you in a half foetal position.
You like tracing along his cheekbones, as soft as a feather against his features while heâs half asleep, and he closes his eyes completely in bliss when you run your fingers through his hair. Idly, you brush your fingers through his locks, revelling in the warmth as it glides through your fingertips, seeping into your skin. It always gives him snug shivers.
He always! wants! to hold! your hand!
You sneak in cheek kisses in the school hallway between classes. Every time you press a soft kiss against the tip of his nose as you run up behind him, or reach up quickly to press a sloppy kiss against his lips in the corridor, you wouldnât notice his little shy smile as his fingers reach up to tentatively press against where your lips were.
Magnus always pretends to throw up, but secretly he finds the two of you really adorable.
After school, the two of you drop your backpacks by his front door and spend the afternoon lying shoulder to shoulder on his living room floor, helping him out with his black hole project. The fire blazes near the TV, throwing inky shadows over his eyes as it illuminates the room in a warming red light, the fire licking the stone fireplace as you and him spend most of the time sneaking each other kisses instead.
Aleksander tries to sneak by when he gets home from work, careful not to disturb the two of you, but heâs honestly so happy that Bartosz has someone like you in his life.
The two of you take walks through the forest during afternoons where the sun is so golden in the sky, it seems to be falling into your eyes like glitter. The two of you walk hand in hand, palm to palm through the ragged and bent paths, covered in littering wild flowers in a cacophony of colours; blue cornflowers, little white daisies peeking their heads, red poppies blooming like blood.
When the two of you finally sit down on a mossy log, straddling it so you face each other, his fingers tremble as he pulls out a sheet of paper from his back pocket. His breath hitches in his throat as he begins to read the poem he wrote for you a couple of days ago, explaining how much he loves you and how you look like a god/goddess to him.
Heâs blushing up a storm at the end of it, but when you rush forth, swinging onto your hand until your lips smash against his, his heart finally settles. He tastes like coffee beans with a hint of chocolate and faint cigarette smoke, but heâs so soft and frail underneath your touch.
He nearly faints afterwards, heâs trembling that hard.
Youâre always running up behind him during lunch break, throwing your arms around his neck and scaring the shit out of him.
You know this boy makes you hop on the back of his bike and takes you just outside the outskirts of Winden for picnics during the weekend.
Heâs the softest boi, please just love him, heâs trying his best.
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