#just little things. little affections. no i will not be elaborating on whether or not hiro is buttoning or unbuttoning zeus' shirt

[mcl-mia]

god, i want a secret life where you and i can get bored out of our minds

(//zeus week day 4 - affection)

[m4rv3l-girl]

Happens to the best of us

Bucky x Y/N

Bucky wants babies.

Requests Open!

Warnings: implied smut

Bucky couldn’t help but stare.

He leaned against the kitchen counter of the compound, arms crossed, sipping at a beer that had long since gone warm. The raucous sounds of the Avengers’ party filled the air—laughter, music, the occasional clang of plates or bottles—but all of it was background noise to him. His gaze was locked on you, on Y/N, across the room, sitting on the floor in the living room.

Morgan Stark was giggling loudly, hands waving excitedly as Y/N built an elaborate tower of colorful blocks, her soft voice guiding the girl through every step of the process. “And look! If we put this one right here—” Y/N placed the final block delicately at the top, balancing it with a careful touch. “��we’ve got ourselves a masterpiece.”

Morgan gasped dramatically, her eyes going wide as she clapped her hands together. “It’s so tall! It’s the biggest tower ever!”

Y/N beamed at the little girl, the expression so full of warmth and love that Bucky felt his chest tighten. Morgan clambered into her lap, curling into her with a sense of trust and affection that made something primal stir deep within him.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how natural it looked—how easy, how right. You and a little one.

The thought had been poking at the edges of his mind all evening, ever since you’d arrived at the party.

You’d barely left Morgan’s side, whether it was helping her sneak extra desserts from the snack table (something that got you both a stern but fond look from Pepper) or carrying her around on your shoulders as she pretended to fly like Iron Man. And the whole time, Bucky watched. Watched the way you moved, the way you interacted, how effortlessly you handled every tantrum, every sugar-fueled burst of energy.

It made his heart ache—in the best possible way.

“Buck, you good?”

Sam’s voice pulled him out of his trance. Bucky blinked, realizing his friend was standing beside him now, raising an eyebrow as he leaned casually against the counter.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Bucky muttered, tearing his eyes away from you to focus on the beer in his hand.

Sam chuckled. “You’ve been staring at Y/N for the past hour, man. You sure you’re fine?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. He tried to play it off, taking another sip of the lukewarm beer. “Just…admiring the view, I guess.”

“Uh-huh,” Sam smirked. “Sure. You’ve got that look, man.”

“What look?”

“That look. The ‘I’m head-over-heels, wrapped-around-her-finger, ready-to-settle-down’ look.” Sam bumped his shoulder against Bucky’s, chuckling when the ex-assassin groaned in response. “Don’t worry, old man. Happens to the best of us.”

Bucky shot him a glare, but the playful tone in Sam’s voice made it hard to be annoyed. Instead, he just grunted and turned his attention back to you, heart clenching as Morgan cuddled closer into your arms.

“I’m serious, man,” Sam continued, softer now. “You look like you’re thinking about something pretty heavy over there.”

Bucky didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to. Sam wasn’t wrong.

The night went on, and Bucky stayed mostly quiet, content to let the party swirl around him. Occasionally, you’d glance his way, sending him a bright smile before returning to your playful antics with Morgan. Each time, his heart skipped a beat.

By the time the party began winding down, the kids—especially Morgan—were wiped out, and the Avengers slowly started to trickle out of the compound. You helped Pepper and Tony gather Morgan’s things, giving the little girl a tight hug before bidding the Starks goodnight.

When you finally returned to Bucky’s side, you looked a little tired but completely content. “Ready to go home, doll?” he asked, his voice soft as his hand instinctively found the small of your back.

“Yeah, I think I’m done for the night,” you replied with a sleepy smile, leaning into his touch. “It was fun, though. Morgan’s a little firecracker.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Bucky chuckled, but his mind was still swirling with thoughts, images of you and Morgan together playing over and over in his head. “You were great with her.”

You shrugged, brushing it off like it was no big deal, but Bucky could see the faint blush coloring your cheeks. “She’s a sweetheart. Honestly, I love kids. They’re fun.”

Love kids. The words echoed in his mind, sending a jolt of warmth through him that he tried to ignore for the moment.

The car ride home was mostly quiet, save for the low hum of the radio in the background. You rested your head against the window, eyes half-closed, while Bucky kept one hand on the wheel and the other loosely intertwined with yours on the center console. It felt…peaceful. Comfortable. Yet, underneath it all, there was this tension building inside him, an unspoken desire simmering just below the surface.

He didn’t know how to bring it up, didn’t know how to start that conversation. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized it wasn’t something he could just push aside. Not anymore.

When you got home, you kicked off your shoes and wandered into the living room, stretching your arms above your head with a satisfied groan. “That was a good night,” you said, smiling over your shoulder at him as you began to pull off your jacket.

Bucky followed behind you, his gaze trailing the curve of your spine as you moved. He felt the heat in his chest grow stronger, something heavier, more intense than he’d expected. His mind kept drifting back to the party, to you and Morgan, to the idea that had been slowly taking root in his brain all night.

It didn’t take long for you to notice the shift in his mood. You turned to face him, frowning slightly as you tossed your jacket onto the back of the couch. “You’ve been quiet since we left the party. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Bucky hesitated, his mouth opening and closing a few times as he tried to find the right words. But he couldn’t. So instead, he took a deep breath and stepped closer, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against his chest. “Just thinking, doll,” he murmured, his voice low as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “That’s all.”

“Uh-huh.” You raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. You reached up, cupping his face in your hands as you searched his eyes. “You’ve been weird ever since we left the party. Tell me what’s going on.”

Bucky sighed, his heart pounding in his chest. There was no escaping this now. He might as well just say it. “It’s just…watching you with Morgan tonight,” he began, his voice soft, almost unsure. “You were amazing with her. It made me think about…about us. About our future.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion for a moment, but then realization dawned on you, your eyes widening slightly. “Our future?” you echoed, your voice just above a whisper. “You mean…?”

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded, his hands tightening on your waist. “I mean…a family. Kids. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

You stared at him for a moment, processing his words. Then, slowly, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “Bucky Barnes, are you telling me you’ve got baby fever?”

He groaned, his face flushing with embarrassment as he buried it in the crook of your neck. “Don’t make fun of me, kitten,” he mumbled, his voice muffled against your skin.

You laughed softly, running your fingers through his hair as you tilted your head back to give him better access to your neck. “I’m not making fun of you. I just didn’t think I’d ever hear those words come out of your mouth.”

Bucky pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his expression serious now. “I’m not saying we have to do anything about it too soon if you don’t want to. But…I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. Seeing you with Morgan tonight…it made me realize how much I want that. With you.”

Your heart swelled at his words, your smile softening as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. It was slow, tender, full of love and unspoken promises. When you finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want that too, Bucky.”

The way he looked at you then—like you were his whole world, his future, his everything—it sent a shiver down your spine. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You’d make such a good mommy, doll. I could see it tonight.”

You felt the heat rising in your cheeks, your heart racing as his words stirred something deep inside you. “And you’d be an amazing daddy,” you replied, your voice laced with mischief. “I know it.”

His grip on your waist tightened, his breath hot against your skin as he kissed along your jawline, his lips trailing down to your neck. “You think so?”

“Yup, the best,” you whispered, your hands tangling in his hair as he pressed his body closer to yours, the heat between you building with each passing.

“Doll?” He mumbled into your neck. The warmth of his breath raising goosebumps on your neck.

“Hm?”

“Can I put a baby in you?”

You brain stopped function for a fraction of a second and the air midway up your throat disappeared. “I…Right now?” You asked with a hint of disbelieving laughter.

“Yeah. Right now.” With a firm nod, his metal hand squeezed at the flesh of your ass, which happened to be one of his favorite things to play with.

“Can’t wait until you’re bigger, just swollen with my kids…” The words alone made him shiver. The thought of you sitting there, belly round and full of the babies he put in there, breasts growing and tender, filled with milk for his children. That was hot. It was making a familiar tingle slither across his chest and downwards.

“So? Can I?” He inquired, rather impatiently.

“Uh, yeah-..I…okay.” You nod. Still in shock that this was even happening.

“Don’t sound very sure.” Tightening his grip, he pushes you closer to him and you can feel the bulge in his pants pressing against your core, the small ball of tension forming right under his crotch.

“Yes. Yes, put a baby in me, now.”

“Say please, Doll.”

…………………………………………………………………………………..…………...………..

Part 2…? 🤨

Part 2 is now out!

[arcaneauthor]

Cute things Bang Chan does as your bf

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

Author’s note: Just something sweet and simple to get my creative writing juices flowing again. Lmk which member you’d like me to do next!

Warnings: none? Mentioned neck kiss, Just pure fluff really

Tags: established relationship, fluffity fluff, Chan being absolutely adorable bf material

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Pulls you into his lap while he works on music, head layed on your shoulder giving you periodic sweet neck kisses.

Always turns music on while the two of you cook cause he likes how intimate it feels to just laugh and dance around the kitchen with you

When you two go out he always either has ahold of your hand or guides you with a hand on your lower back especially in big crowds just to make sure your safe (also partly because he just likes having physical contact with you at anytime he can)

Back hugs 24/7. I mean he’s literally hanging off of you like a koala any chance he gets.

Will purposefully leave his hoodies lying around your place for you to find and wear, not to have some kind of stupid “claim” over you but just because he thinks you look extremely cute in his over sized clothes and plus he knows you like wearing them so

Has a secret little album of songs he’s made just for you (though his ears are bright red when he first shows them to you cause he’s afraid you’ll think it’s stupid or cringey)

Loves giving physical affection but if you give it to him it’s gonna embarrass the hell out of him. Not to say he doesn’t like it, he loves it, but we’re talking about face flaming, head ducked, face covered. Especially if it’s with other people around.

On the topic of physical affection, he will always either hold your hand or have a hand on your thigh while driving

This man can not take a compliment but he sure as heck can give one. he’s literally got something nice to say about you 24/7, no matter what. “You look really nice today” “Chris I’m literally still in my pajamas”

If you’re the same height or taller than him (which I am) he’ll constantly be joking around by getting on his tiptoes around you to make him the same height/taller. Especially in photos.

No matter how tired he is from work he’ll always make time for you. Whether that be planning elaborate dates or just taking the time to watch a movie with you. It doesn’t matter how big it is as long as you’re doing it together. “Chan it’s okay just go to sleep you’re tired.” “No no, I’m fine. I can make it through one movie” and then he ends up falling asleep before the movies even halfway finished

We all know Chris loves him some bracelets so he’s definitely buying you matching ones

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

End notes: I promise I’ll write an actual story one day lol

[mondaymelon]

₊˚ෆ 𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐀 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓, 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔? | lyney, neuvillette, wriothesely x gn!reader

ˋ°•*⁀➷ cw: established relationship, fluffity fluff !! art by @/puna_822 on twitter, edited by me!

⤷ shh!! secret relationships with the fontaine men ₊˚ෆ

— Lyney will keep the secret well, of course. He’s a jack of all trades, and a little bit of misconception is nothing taxing for someone who can trick the eye with just a simple swipe of his hands.

…Though, his personality often brings much more to deal with behind the scenes. His every action is designed as a ruse, trying to draw any and every reaction from you - whether it be making you irritated as can be or practically burning from his smooth words. He’ll at the red on your face with a light smirk gracing his lips. “Embarrassed, now, are we? Mhm, best wipe it off your face though, lest anyone find out~”

Dealing with the magician was a headache. A delightful one, but painful nonetheless. He has a habit of saying whatever he wants, and it doesn’t help that he’s so good at it too. His tongue can twist poems out of thin air, or pickup lines at the drop of a hat. The number of times Lynette had glanced over at you with a concerned gaze was far more than you could count, and it would be only a matter of time before another carefully crafted sentence sent the entire mirage into collapse. The two of you had only decided to keep your relationship private in the first place due to work affairs. It’d just make things more frustrating if people were aware of the connection. In earlier weeks, you had tried to confront the man about the entire predicament, but he had only laughed it off with a shrug of his shoulders and a jesting beam. 

“Oh, don’t tell me that the words I tell you every day still make you so flustered? Archons, you really are a hopeless romantic, aren’t you? Although, for you, I suppose I’m no different…” 

When Freminet had eventually voiced his worries, gently holding your hands and saying, “A-Are you okay? Your face is really red, are you sick? Should I walk y-you home?”, there was no other choice but to shake your head, cover your flushed cheeks as best you could with a hand, and tell a blatant lie that there was nothing out of the ordinary.

There most certainly was, and it was the cat-like man who stood off to the side, a sly smirk on his face and one of his eyes closed in a wink. Not helping, Lyney.

When would the day come for you to be the one to make him flustered? Perhaps it was sooner than you thought, on his opening night for the new season. You weren’t sure if he had expected to see you in the crowd, but as he was performing his wonderous tricks, eyes sweeping over the hundreds present, his shimmering lilac eyes locked onto yours. His professional smile stretched a little wider, and as he pulled a dove out of his hat with a flourish of his arms, beamed. The astonished look on your face was something he’d be sure not to forget.

As soon as the lights dim onstage, he hurries off of it, giving Lynette a quick farewell and combing back his unruly hair with his fingers. He spots you standing by the exit, holding… a bouquet of roses in your arms? They were a beautiful sight, yet paled in comparison to how ethereal you looked in the moment, the spotlights afar illuminating your face with a glow and your eyes sparkling with delight. This always happens when the two of you are alone - he’ll switch from verbal affection to physical, and this time is no exception. He sweeps you into his arms, slotting his lips against yours as he pulls you into a deep kiss that leaves you breathless and red. However, this time, the blush dusting your cheeks is not only on your face but his, as he takes the flowers in his arms with a bright smile. 

“For me, love? Come now, I can’t possibly keep how good we are together from everyone else, can I?” ₊˚ෆ

— Neuvillette is… an interesting case. For starters, he’s baffled at the concept of keeping the relationship a secret. Elaborate that you don’t want to ruin his reputation as a perfect, just, and stone-cold judge, and he’ll oblige… reluctantly. He still doesn’t understand - just why can’t he show you how much he loves you in public?

For now, he’ll have to chalk it up as more human affairs that he’s deemed too complicated to figure out. Ground rules have been laid out - no mentioning the relationship, no telling anyone either… not even the melusines, which was a fair case, since they’d be sure to spread the news faster than wildfire. The mortal realm is far more puzzling than it seems, he concludes somberly. An unfamiliar world that was arduous to coexist in. It’ll be alright, though, as long as he can intertwine his fingers with yours and look into your eyes and-

“N- Sir Neuvillette… not here!” You chide quietly, slowly withdrawing your hand from his. His face falls into an instant, brows furrowing. He’ll bite his tongue, for your sake, and remain silent, yet his fingers twitch. Archons, his hands feel so much better when they’re in yours. The man watches with dejected eyes as you whip your head around anxiously, before gesturing for Neuvillette to bend down. He complies, and matches himself to your height, yet immediately pauses any motion as soon as he feels your lips brush against his forehead. You brush a stray lock of his behind his reddened ears, a grin curving on your lips.

“Don’t be too disappointed, okay? I don’t want it to rain on my way back home~” You beam slyly as you lean away, witnessing Neuvillette’s expression undergo several stages - downcast, shocked, flustered… and then a small smile graces his expression.

“I’ll see you when I get home. Don’t wait up for me. The case might run late.” Neuvillette chuckles to himself, straightening his posture as he softly pinches your cheek, laughing at the way you begin to pout. It’s something the melusines told him to do, and he’s glad he listened - your face is soft, and he has to hold himself back from kissing you. He can hear people around the corner, their voices growing closer. “Get home safe.”

“Love?” Whenever the dragon enters home, he’ll call you by the name he’s unable to call you anywhere else - something he loathes with a burning sensation in his chest. “Are you…” His voice fades as he sees you curled up on the couch, eyes closed and chest slowly rising and falling with every breath. Had you tried to stay up for him? Cute. He takes you in his arms and brings you to the bedroom, carefully arranging the pillows and blankets around your sleeping form. You stir in your state, lids slowly fluttering open as you stare at the man above you with drowsy eyes.

“Neuvi?” The use of his nickname makes his heart flutter. It’s utterly incomparable to what you call him at work, “Sir Neuvillette.” Too rigid. You giggle at the sight of him, still half-asleep, and cup his face in your hands. “Welcome home… did I fall asleep? Ah, I’m sorry, I guess I was too tired…?”

The smile on his face won’t leave.

Yes, moments like these allowed him to continue this strange human practice.

He places his hands on yours, reveling in your warmth.

“Sleep, love.” ₊˚ෆ

— Wriothesley’s used to being professional. If he wasn’t, his work would be a lifetime more demanding than it was at the moment - although, perhaps even that’d be easier than keeping himself away from you until watchful eyes are no longer present.

He’s touchy whenever he’s with you. He likes leaning into your figure, even if you’re shorter than him, just to take in the way you embrace him back, but he loves the feeling of your fingers with his even more. It makes him feel… giddy, light, like he could drift away with the slightest breeze.

And that’s an issue. In order for you to remain safe, he’ll have to stay hushed about you being his lover. He’s made enemies, that much is natural. Of course, he’ll comply with your wishes to keep the relationship private. You could tell him to eat dirt and he’d do just that. Things like that are second nature now. Before, he had no trouble lasting weeks, or months in the Fortress of Meropide at once. After all, there was no driving incentive to head back to the city of Fontaine other than greeting the melusines, dropping off official papers, or, his guilty pleasure, ordering bags upon bags of tea from the mainland, so that he’d have more than enough to drink at the fortress. Now that you were here, however, how could he possibly stay away longer than a few days? If your hands in his were what made him float away, your smile brought him back, with a racing heart in his chest and a smile spread across his features. He’d give the world to see your smile, since it was his world. A single laugh from you would cause the background to fade to white, and rouse his heart and face into a flustered mess.

The prisoners notice a difference. Of course, they don’t know who this mysterious person the duke is seeing, but all they know is that they’re certainly working wonders. On miraculous, wondrous days, they'll even catch a glimpse of a smile on his face while he’s sitting at his desk, sifting through paperwork. As time passes, the news only grows more widespread, eventually reaching the ears of the ludex himself. It’s true, there is an apparent change - one that he captures on the duke’s more frequent visits to land. For a while, fables and tales of Wriothelsey’s mysterious lover spread throughout the city from ear to ear in hushed, excited whispers.

He’ll tease you about it, of course, but he’s really just rather intrigued. Has he really changed that much after meeting you? He doesn’t think so, but he wouldn’t put it past himself. “Darling, darling…” He repeats your petname when you don’t immediately react. “Darling, c’mon…” He can feel the pout creeping on his lips.

“Impatient, are we, Wrio?” You sigh as you turn away from your work, and his icy eyes light up in an instant. You stroke your hand through his hair gently, carding your fingers through the soft, dark strands, and you can see the way Wriothelsey simply melts under your touch. “You’ve been seeking me quite often these days, haven’t you?”

Maybe he has changed. Staring up at you with half-lidded eyes and a smile playing on his lips, feeling his ears warm, perhaps that conjecture has been solidified as the truth.

“Is it so wrong to wish for you, darling?”

(a/n) ngl i kinda hate this fanfic. everything about it. everyone seems so ooc and the prompt is barely even mentioned ew ew ew not my best work by far please dont tell me writers block is coming back i hate that big bad scary thing

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife

[its3nvy]

Hello I was wondering if you could do a billy bonney hc on cuddling with him.

Billy the Kid cuddling hc's

Note : I'm so obsessed with this man, send help pls

word count: 500

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Billy was all about that elaborate sweet talk, weaving the cutest, most endearing words into your ear, making you blush and playfully roll your eyes—all of which you secretly loved.

His favorite thing was waking up in the morning with you in his arms. As the sun filtered through the window, he'd hold you a little tighter, savoring the warmth and the moment before the challenges of the day began.

Random kisses were his trademark. Neck, forehead, back of the hand, shoulders, cheeks, nose—everywhere. It was his way of expressing affection in simple, unexpected ways.

Being the big spoon was his favorite position. Feeling you all bundled up in his arms, pressed snugly against his chest, gave him a sense of security. It was like he could shield you from everything, even if he knew you were perfectly capable of handling things on your own. But in those moments, it was his way of offering a little extra comfort.

He loved touching you—tracing the lines of your face, combing his hand through your hair—every caress a silent declaration of his affection. 

Billy had this natural calm energy about him, and whenever you were with him, especially during cuddle sessions, his calming aura just rubbed off on you. His presence had a magical way of soothing your troubles, whether you were upset, angry, or just had a rough day.

On days when guilt about his mom and brother weighed heavily on Billy, he'd bury his face in your chest, wrapping his arms around your waist. Holding him tightly, you'd assure him that you were there to take away his sadness, and he'd respond with a soft smile, finding comfort in your embrace.

Tangled legs were a must when cuddling with Billy. If not, he'd instantly throw his legs over yours, claiming that it was the only way he ever got truly comfortable.

Serious, deep talks were inevitable during cuddle sessions with Billy. He was an open book with you, trusting you with his life. He never pressured you to discuss anything you weren't comfortable with, and he was equally game for lighthearted talks, cherishing every moment spent in your company.

Even when asleep, Billy stayed connected. If you shifted during the night, there was always an arm searching for that reassuring touch. The man couldn't sleep well without feeling you close.

Your fingers tracing the muscles of his arms or the veins sent shivers of delight through Billy. It was a simple act that soothed him, a tactile reassurance of your connection.

Both of you were obsessed with listening to each other's heartbeats. Falling asleep with one of your heads on the other's chest became a nightly ritual, a symphony of heartbeats lulling you into peaceful slumber. It was a shared intimacy that deepened your bond.

Billy loved it when you played with his hair. The hums of appreciation and the subtle smiles were proof that he cherished the simple act of you running your fingers through his curls.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

please like, reblog and follow for more!

requests: open!

[mercillery]

ANDREW KREISS RELATIONSHIP OVERVIEW

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + MENTION OF ABLEISM + OOC? + NOT PROOFREAD

NOTES: Andrew mains let me put you in my pocket and take care of you. And quit your jobs too, I will provide for you all.

Being in a relationship with Andrew is an adventure in patience, understanding, and love. Sure, love is a given in any relationship, but with Andrew, it's essential to navigate his unique quirks and preferences with a touch of extra care.

For instance, Andrew dislikes sunlight, so when it comes to planning dates, be prepared for moonlit strolls and stargazing rather than sunny picnics and beach outings. If you’re a sun worshipper, it’s time to stock up on moonblock instead.

Crowds? Forget about it. Andrew thrives in the quiet corners of the world, where the population density is low and the ambiance is serene. He’s the quintessential introvert, the kind who’d rather have a cozy evening at home than a bustling night out. If you’re the life-of-the-party type, this might require some adjustment.

When you first start dating, don't be surprised if he stumbles over his words or gets flustered over the simplest things. A casual brush of your hand against his might send him into a blushing frenzy. He might awkwardly laugh at things that aren’t jokes or offer you a flower he picked up without realizing it's a bit wilted. It's all part of his charm, though.

Andrew’s awkwardness comes from a place of inexperience rather than indifference. He genuinely wants to give you all his love and affection, but he’s not quite sure how to go about it. He’s learning, slowly but surely, how to open up and let someone into his world. Please be patient with him.

The early days of your relationship might be filled with small, tentative steps. Once he’s actually comfortable around you enough, maybe he’ll invite you to the cemetery, showing you his world in a way that’s meaningful to him. Don’t be surprised if he seems more at ease there, where he’s surrounded by the familiar. It might seem unconventional, but for Andrew, it's a big step toward letting you into his life.

His awkwardness is part of what makes him so endearing. Every hesitant smile and gesture is a sign of his growing affection for you. He's new to all of this, and it feels weird to him, but in the best way possible. As he becomes more comfortable, you'll see glimpses of his true self—a kind, thoughtful person who’s just been waiting for someone to understand him.

I think it should be flat-out obvious that Andrew is not one for grand displays of affection. Don't expect sweeping romantic gestures or elaborate declarations of love. He shows his feelings through small, meaningful actions that speak volumes about his deep affection for you. You might find a single flower left on your pillow, a delicate token of his feelings. Or, during difficult moments, he'll be there, quietly holding your hand, offering comfort and support without saying much.

Andrew has a way with words, but he prefers to write them down rather than speak them. You might receive handwritten notes from him, filled with poetic descriptions of his emotions and how much you mean to him. These notes are treasures, capturing his heartfelt sentiments in a way spoken words often can't.

His love language is all about acts of service and giving thoughtful gifts. He'll go out of his way to do little things that make your life easier, whether it's fixing something around the house, cooking a meal, or simply being there when you need him. These acts, though seemingly simple, are his way of showing how much he cares.

As for gift giving, receiving gifts from Andrew is always special because they're never random. Each gift is chosen with care and has a personal significance. It could be a book he knows you'll love or something that reminds him of a special moment you shared.

Having been the victim of ableism and cruelly labeled the “white-haired monster” because of his albinism, Andrew struggles with the painful memories of his past. These experiences have left deep scars, making it difficult for him to trust and open up to others. However, he trusts you and is comfortable enough to lean on you for emotional support, finding solace in your presence.

Andrew’s past is a heavy burden he carries, and it’s not easy for him to talk about it. The wounds from being ostracized and misunderstood run deep, really deep. That being said, he’ll seem distant or reluctant to share his feelings. But with your gentle encouragement and unwavering support, he slowly begins to open up. It’s a gradual process, marked by small breakthroughs and quiet conversations where he reveals his inner turmoil. Your compassion acts as a balm for his wounded soul, helping him to heal bit by bit.

And if you reveal your own issues to him, Andrew gives you his full attention. He wants to be there for you just as you have been there for him. He may not always have the right words to say, but his presence and understanding are more than enough.

He might not be an expert in comforting others, but he genuinely tries his absolute best to make you feel better. His attempts might be awkward or clumsy, but they are always heartfelt. Whether it's sitting quietly by your side, offering a reassuring touch, or simply listening without interrupting, Andrew’s efforts show how much he cares.

He understands how much it means to have someone there during difficult times because he's been on the receiving end of your support. He wants to reciprocate that same level of care and understanding. His empathy runs deep, and even if he struggles to find the right words, his actions speak volumes. He might bring you a small token of comfort, like a warm cup of tea or a favorite book, as a way to show he's thinking of you.

In those moments when you need a shoulder to lean on, Andrew's there, providing a quiet, steady presence that offers a sense of calm and security. He knows the value of having someone who listens and understands, and he strives to be that person for you. His dedication to your well-being is evident in the way he prioritizes your needs and makes an effort to be there for you, just as you have been there for him. He wants to make you feel the same way you make him feel when he opens up about his own issues: understood, valued, and better.

If you ever want to surprise Andrew and watch him melt, gift him iris flowers. He has a special fondness for irises because someone once told him that iris will turn into a rainbow and carry kind souls to heaven.

So when you give him iris flowers, it’s not just a gift; it’s a gesture that genuinely touches his heart. The fact that these flowers come from you, the person he loves, makes the gesture even more meaningful. You’ll see his eyes light up and a smile spread across his face as he gently takes the flowers.

Andrew might hold the irises with a reverence that speaks volumes about how much this gesture means to him. He might even get a bit emotional from the simple yet profound act of receiving these flowers from you, evoking a deep sense of love and gratitude. In his quiet, heartfelt way, he’ll thank you, stumbling over his words as he tries to express just how much this means to him.

Your relationship is built on these little moments, these quiet acts of love that speak louder than any grand proclamation. It’s a partnership where both of you bring out the best in each other, healing wounds and creating a bond that’s deeply personal and profoundly touching. And if anyone asks, you can always joke that your love story started in a cemetery with a guy who’s more comfortable with the dead than the living—but who learned to cherish the living soul who loves him.

[helloaugustmoon]

·˚ ◌༘͙[Petnames] ! ˊ

- obviously, there are the ones we know from his music; “my girl”, “baby”, etc

- and there are the ones we know for certain he has used affectionately for girls he’s been with, like “little one”

- can absolutely see him calling you “princess”, “sweet girl”, “pretty girl”, “treasure”, “precious”

- loves nothing more than to call you HIS pretty girl, treasure, etc

- and with his love of superheroes I’d put money on him calling you “wonder-girl”, as well as just “wonder”

- it doesn’t matter if your name isn’t Wendy bc he’ll still call you the Wendy to his Peter Pan frfr

- he’d definitely come up with petnames that are so unique to you, too

- considering the lyrical and poetic mastermind he is, he’ll think of the most specific petnames to do with the color of your eyes, hair color, sound of your voice

- he’ll def call you his muse and his songbird

- his little bird in general, actually

- as for petnames he’d like to be called, I honestly think he’d melt over anything you called him

- Mike, Applehead, all the classics

- but his favorite is most definitely when you call him “angel face”

- it still makes him so shy no matter how many times he hears you call him that

- speaks to his insecurities and reminds him of how much you adore him, how attracted you really are to him

·˚ ◌༘͙[Era specific] ! ˊ

now, these are kinda wild cards, but I can imagine him having petnames that he either comes up with for you during certain eras OR if he met you in a specific era these would be his first choices of petnames for you

Off The Wall - his shyest era so he’d be least confident w petnames and would only use them after a WHILE and he’d be so quiet about it too. literally you’d have to be in a completely empty hotel and he’d still only whisper that you’re his girl. more likely to tell you things like “I’ll never love another” than call you by petnames in this era imo, but would ABSOLUTELY call you a treasure when you do something that makes him smile. in fact, he’d outright call you “the smile on my face”.

Thriller - continuing on from previous, at this point he’s more confident in calling you “the only eyes in the crowd” and other poetic things like that. he’ll ask “where’s my smile?” when he’s looking for you backstage and I’m crying.

Bad - he’ll THINK of calling you his bad girl in this era but he’ll be too shy so he keeps that one to himself until later and instead calls you the sweetest things to juxtapose the badassery of the era like his “sweetiepie”, “sweetest girl”, “pretty bird”. in all those leather outfits n he’s calling you that? pls.

Dangerous - in this era, he’s def calling you things like his “one and only”, and straight up just “mine”. no elaboration needed. and we are all sat actually.

Blood On The Dance Floor - kinkiest era Idc, he’ll have felt confident enough by this time to call you “bad girl” and more specifically HIS bad girl with a smirk and I said what I said. he says it like he means you’re his good girl but he sounds flirtier when he says you’re bad and he finds your reaction so cute every time. oh falling into a heap of goo on the floor is cute? thanks beloved x

Invincible - now we all know from this era onwards Michael is feelin some type of way 👀 and for that I think “lover”; he’ll call you his lover with the UTMOST affection FR! after everything he’s gone through by this era, you are his true love, his anchor, his solace, and he would call you all of those things too. whether he meets you in this era or a previous one, by this era he is so devoted to you, there’s not a thing he wouldn’t do in worship of you.

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

I'm not sure if you've answered this before or touched on the subject, my apologies if you have, but would a condom help protect you from most of the radioactivity of ghoul semen? Just a thought, because I've noticed a lot writers use Rad-X or RadAway as a catch-all to safe(ish) ghoul sex; whereas some say there's still damage to be done even with these. But have we considered a condom?!

WARNING: YET ANOTHER RANT ABOUT GHOUL CUM IMMINENT, BRACE FOR IMPACT

And thanks for the ask, Anon. I really do enjoy these ghoul biology questions.

I have touched on the effects of ghoul semen on humans before, largely in this post, but I didn't elaborate much on condom usage. We endorse safe sex here, but...well, let's just say there's a lot more demand for portraying no-condom fucking than there is for the opposite. For this reason, at least personally, I usually just use Rad-X and Radaway as a sort of catch-all since it's basically in-game magic. Plus, my readers yearn for the c r e a m p i e aspect of it all.

Besides, if I'm honest, I'm not convinced that a condom would be of all that much use when fucking a ghoul, at least an older ghoul.

I spent some time browsing through a few research papers and articles about how gamma radiation affects various materials to give a 'not completely bullshit' answer to this. I know a fair amount about how radiation can impact the body, but relatively little about how it can impact non-biological material. Turns out, it's quite hard on most things! Shocker!

I think the biggest determining factor about whether or not a condom would provide you any actual protection with a ghoul lover would be the age and transformation status of the ghoul. I've mentioned before how I theorize that they become more radioactive over time, even if they never enter a more advanced stage of ghoulification, like becoming a glowing one.

A newly-transformed ghoul would likely both have lower levels of radiation in their bodily fluids AND no sperm (as I elaborated on in my post about ghoul-fathered pregnancy), so a condom would really only provide protection from the mild damage and irritation that prolonged or repeated exposure to low-level rads would cause your vaginal/anal/oral tissue. Not to say that isn't helpful! No one really likes the idea of being all raw from mild radiation burns inside them, and sometimes you just wanna go a half-dozen rounds with your high-stamina lover with no stress. Besides, if you're not a ghoul yourself, less overall radiation exposure is an unquestionable good.

Older ghouls (and obviously those who are in more advanced stages of ghoulification), being more radioactive overall in this scenario, also have much more radioactive fluids. Obviously anyone who is pre-war would fall under this category, but frankly anyone who has been a ghoul for more than a few decades is probably gonna be pretty "hot" overall. Low rad-resistance/low endurance folks may need to strongly consider alternative forms of intercourse, especially if Rad-X and Radaway aren't available or sufficient. With partners like this, the condom keeping the semen confined inside it means it's effective in stopping things that have to actively work to infect you (sperm, viruses/bacteria, etc.), but radiation doesn't work like that. It can easily impact you negatively if you're simply close enough to the source of it without any direct contact. If I wrapped a polonium core in a condom and shoved it inside you, you would still get incredibly sick and burned, and I think essentially the same would apply to telling your older ghoul partner to use extant barrier contraception (condoms, diaphragms, cervical caps, etc.). Honestly, if they have a high enough rad level, they may just literally melt straight through whatever you're using.

It is possible that ghoul-friendly contraception could be created, at least in my opinion. But it would be complicated and difficult to find something that "ticks all the right boxes", per se. For obvious reasons, you wouldn't want a lead wool diaphragm or a cadmium-lined condom or anything like that. I understand there are a lot of different polymers/plastics that are resistant to radiation, and I'm sure that some of them are made of components that wouldn't necessarily be harmful to have inside you, especially since some of them are used to manufacture things like radiation PPE (personal protective equipment like gowns/gloves/shields/radiation blankets/etc.). However, I don't have a broad enough understanding to say for sure whether or not any of these polymers would make for the sort of material you could manufacture physical/barrier contraception from. I have a degree in a biology-heavy STEM field and not a pure-chemistry STEM field for a reason. Either way, I feel like it might be a little hard to get your hands on material like that, at least consistently, 200+ years after a nuclear apocalypse, unless you could find a way to freshly manufacture it. If you're going older in terms of your search for a ghoul partner, you're probably better off sticking to Rad-X and Radaway, overall.

If I, personally, were president in the Fallout universe, whatever funds that were earmarked for scientific research would be reallocated to figuring out how to mass-produce and distribute a ghoul-friendly form of contraception. I think it would be a great healing step for what remains of America if all the ghouls and all the smoothskins could get in a big pile and just fuck it out. Vote for me.

[undiscovered-horizon]

Hello there :) please could I request something for Vikings with a female reader if possible. Where the reader (a shieldmaiden) meets the ragnarssons for the first time after being taken in by Ragnar when her parents are killed, and they start developing feelings for her later on? 💙

Hey! Thought that making this into headcanons/preferences would be the best format, message me if you want a full work where I elaborate!🌺

🫀REQUESTS ARE OPEN🫀

Vikings preference: Falling for a shieldmaiden taken in by Ragnar

Bjorn A little rough around the edges, at first - you're a complete stranger, after all. Maybe he criticizes your posture one day and you're more than willing to make him prove his 'superiority'. Whether you win or lose is not as important as the sole fact that you were a challenge for him, although he might not outright admit that. Despite being a shieldmaiden and Bjorn having witnessed your abilities first-hand, he still perceives you as a woman first - the burden of upbringing, one might say. Because of that, he often tries to fight your battles for you, both on the battlefield and outside of it. Most of the time it's small things: bringing you this, giving you that. He definitely might come off as overbearing at times but there's no malice in his heart - Bjorn genuinely believes he's doing the right thing. The downside is that even your stern words might not knock off his habits (the two of you fought numerous times about his overprotective attitude). That protective side of him comes out especially strong during cold winter months when he needs to be extra sure that you're well-fed and warm. In his hot and cold attitude, you find irrefutable proof of his affection. After all, what else if not love could bring warmth and care out of a man known for his dauntlessness and reserved attitude? Bjorn puts his fondness into words in a very peculiar manner: suggesting your possible gains. In other terms, he hints at all the goods you'd have and the shortages you wouldn't suffer if he could have your hand. See that pile of wood that's going to last you for at least a month? Or the furs on your bed that are just enough to stay warm on a freezing winter night? Without half-truths and subtext, Bjorn assures you that he could provide you so much more. Although 'could' should be read as 'wants to' - a desire he's determined to fulfil only if you agree to be his.

Ubbe The one who actually talks to you first, with no expectations or prejudice. Even if he did have those, he's capable of looking past them and making a fair judgement only after getting to know you. At first he's a little uncomfortable with the situation and your person because you're kind of like a sister but not really? That apprehension doesn't last long, however: he's a little too smitten with you. To his own surprise, your presence makes the long absence of his father a little easier to bear - Ragnar didn't leave on a whim, he had a reason to do so and it was a good reason. If the other Ragnarsons treat you with malice, thinking of you as the sole reason they had to grow up fatherless, Ubbe is always ready to step in and de-escalate the situation. In some way, he's similar to Bjorn in expressing his affection in the sense of being protective. Ubbe perceives you as a woman, a woman he loves to be exact, and only then a warrior, despite getting a taste of your skills on his own. Just like his half-brother, he'd try to do things for you, deal with the mundane burdens of everyday life; he only cares about you. The thing that sets them apart is Ubbe's willingness to stand back - once he knows you can stand your ground, he lets go a little, although reluctantly. Another thing is that he already acts like your husband despite being yet to earn that title: always being in your vicinity, fighting any men who try to woo you, thinking ahead and gifting you anything you might need in the near future. Whenever his training alongside his brothers, Ubbe tends to tease them saying that you're better than them. Whether that is true or just brotherly spitefulness is yet to be determined. When the moment comes and Ubbe confesses his affections, he's very straight-forward, telling you how much you mean to him.

Hvitserk Curious and fascinated - you're pretty and courageous. Even if you end up rejecting him (a possibility he doesn't think is realistic), you seem like a great person to be around. He's friendly from day one. Keeps hinting at his romantic interest in you through smooth, sublime and yet unambiguous remarks, so there is no doubt about his intentions. In an attempt to spend more time with you, Hvitserk offered to join you in training. Clashing swords and breadth-of-hair ducks were not enough to stop his flirting (you had this growing suspicion that he's also unnecessarily touchy - not that you were one to complain). The only difference from his daily sweet talk was that with a sword in his hand, Hvitserk's words became vividly more explicit. Some of them caught you off guard but once the surprise washed away, you realized you had nothing against those generous offers becoming true. Even if his brothers are also interested in you, he doesn't see them as a competition or a threat of any sort. His approach wouldn't be a surprise to anyone who had even once seen you two together - there was no chance any other Ragnarson could sweep you off your feet. Truth be told, you knew Hvitserk's feelings before he told you, although it should be clarified that he didn't explicitly confess his affections: during a quite intimate moment, in bed and under furs, he suddenly asked you to marry him. Relationship-wise, out of all the Ragnarsons Hvitserk is the one to treat you the most equally to him.

Sigurd Begins to be interested in you simply because his brothers were. Then he noticed your ambivalence towards Ivar and how much it was pissing the youngest brother off and Sigurd was instantly on board - he might yet find an ally in you. Out of the Ragnarssons, he is the most invisible brother and so he didn't quite expect to pique your interest. To his surprise, you're the one to accost him, asking about living in Kattegat and the family reputation he has to hold up. Not to mention all the prince's responsibilities he has to suffer. From your own words, Sigurd learned that, just like him, you're not one for big crowds and front rows, preferring to stray from the eye of the storm that so often seemed to emerge around Ragnar and his sons. He finally found someone who understood his perspective and not only that - they shared it. The two of you are often disappearing somewhere together and the general population of Kattegat quite quickly catches on but you and Sigurd care little about those rumours. Definitely spent hours upon hours coming up with a wax poetic ballad about you. He put himself in one of the verses describing his growing fondness for you. Luckily for him, he won't have to change the verse about the shieldmaiden loving some guy named Sigurd back.

Ivar Acts like he doesn't care and tries to make himself believe that mainly because deep inside he had immediately dismissed the possibility of you being interested in him. You've heard stories of course but a certain degree of scepticism is a trait of a good warrior - it keeps you level-headed. Once when you were sitting on the pier, enjoying a moment of solitude, Ivar approached you only to ask about his father. After all, you'd spent more time with Ragnar than he did, even if he wasn't your actual parent. While sharing stories about the famous Ragnar Lothbrok, Ivar noticed that you're neither apprehensive nor fearful of him. In a way, it upsets him - he found himself in a situation where he doesn't have the upper hand. But this surprising and wholly unwelcome vulnerability didn't backfire. Truthfully, the longer you talked about the legend of Ragnar Lothbrok, the more Ivar wished you would stop talking about his father and simply talk about yourself. Except for his parents, you were the only person whose presence he didn't completely detest and Ivar was yet to make an opinion on how that made him feel. He definitely hates seeing you interact with his brothers as he naively thought that he was the only recipient of your sympathies and it's exactly that lack of exclusivity that makes him go out on a limb and make less-than-ambiguous remarks that you happily reciprocate. Sometimes, when he can't sleep at night, Ivar climbs onto his father's throne and dwells on various fantasies of glory and bloodshed. In those dreams, there's always a place for you - a brave and beautiful shieldmaiden that rides into battle by his side and gives birth to his children, who go on to become kings, emperors and conquerors.

[sleepingdeath-light]

relationship hcs ; pure vanilla cookie

requested by ; anonymous (31/05/23)

fandom(s) ; cookie run

fandom masterlist(s) ; hub | specific

character(s) ; pure vanilla cookie

outline ; “can you please do some pure vanilla relationship hcs please? thx (btw: i hope you have a nice break)”

warning(s) ; none, just fluff!

pure vanilla cookie is a complete and utter gentleman in how he treats the people around him, but especially you as his spouse — starting from how he took his time to traditionally court and woo you before the two of you became an ‘official’ couple, and ending with him treating you as nothing short of royalty as you two settle more and more into your relationship

he rarely ever calls you by your formal name and rotates through a small selection of sweet pet names whenever he’s talking to or about you — including, but not limited to: ‘(my) beloved’, ‘(my) angel’, ‘(my) darling’, ‘dearest’, and ‘sweetheart’

he’s naturally a very giving person and will happily indulge in every single expression of love he knows of just to make sure you have no room left to doubt his feelings for you

acts of service — when it comes to taking care of you, status be damned pure vanilla cookie will do just about anything it takes to make your day a little brighter. this can mean all sorts of things, such as: going out of his way to get up earlier and make you breakfast in bed, sending word out to local vendors in the kingdom to ensure that they always have your favourite things in stock when he knows you’re going to go out to the market, or making sure that you get spoiled rotten and properly celebrated for every birthday, anniversary, or achievement.

gift giving — being the ruler of a thriving kingdom and a talented magic user, it’s safe to say that pure vanilla cookie is more than capable and willing to shower you with all sorts of gifts. of course amongst these gifts are things that are more lavish and elaborate (whole wardrobes worth of new clothing in the style of his kingdom, organised banquets to celebrate important milestones, using his magic to organise unforgettable dates for you both, and so on) but most of the things he gifts you are more small and thoughtful in nature, as is to be expected of someone like him: trinkets and souvenirs from his travels, books he thinks you’ll like, accessories that reminded him of you, and anything he sees that he knows will make you smile (e.g. a type of item he knows you like to collect)

physical touch — though he does tend to stick to a socially appropriate level of pda with you, pure vanilla cookie is far from the type to shy away from physical affection with you. around others he usually sticks to a set few acts (hand holding, bringing your hand up to his lips to kiss the back of your hand/your fingertips/your knuckles, kissing you chastely on the lips or temple, brushing any hair out of your face, and reassuringly stroking his hands up and down your arms), but in private he’s much more varied in his displays of affection: more passionate kisses, cuddling and hugging you, dancing with you at random, letting his arms rest around your hips or waist, kissing along your shoulders, neck and wrists, etc. (he’s just… very touchy with you haha)

quality time — you’re his absolute favourite person to be around without question, whether you’re going out and having fun as a couple or just sitting together in silence doing your own things parallel to each other. every conversation, every date, every outing, every holiday, and every moment spent with you is something he treasures dearly and he does what he can to make sure that you’re as content and as comfortable in his presence as he is in yours.

words of affirmation — he’s the type of partner who tends to shower you with praise and attention whenever the opportunity arises. most of his affirmations are verbal (calling you beautiful/handsome as he presses a chaste kiss against your knuckles, earnestly congratulating you for every achievement and accolade you collect, softly and quietly reassuring you before you step out of your comfort zone, smiling as he recalls your strengths and talents to his oldest friends with more awe than he recalls those old stories from his adventuring days, etc.), but he’s also the type of sappy romantic to leave little love letters and notes around your shared space for you to find in his absence (e.g. a neatly folded note on your pillow telling you where he is, reaffirming his love for you, apologising for being absent, and promising to make it up to you at lunch time / or / a floating note on your vanity in his signature cursive that recalls a different positive affirmation every day that’s designed to make you smile, laugh, and relax for the day ahead)

though it’s easy to forget given how passive and pleasant he’s become in recent years, pure vanilla cookie is still a very capable magic wielder and, thus, is more than capable of protecting you should it come down to that — of course he’d much rather have the option to talk things out without having to shed blood, but if your safety is on the line then he’s not above returning to his roots and making damn sure the offending party knows to never try a stunt like this again

on the rare occasion that hollyberry cookie and the other ancients actually manage to get him tipsy (or, better yet, outright drunk), pure vanilla cookie will not stop talking about how amazing you are and how much he loves you — if nobody stops him or brings him somewhere quiet to rest and sober up, then there’s every chance that the ancients will spend the next few hours hearing about every little thing he adores about you until he finally passes out or golden cheese cookie goes and gets you so you can take your poor boyfriend home for the night

(the girls all think it’s absolutely adorable, dark cacao cookis is mostly neutral about the whole affair and just lets him rant, but golden cheese cookie and hollyberry cookie have both been known to tease him by reciting the sappiest things he’s said about you back to him when he’s sober again — usually something about your smile or the sound of your laughter)

[pilfappreciator]

Got an ask from @starzwithapen to write for how Viva would work around showing affection to a Reader with short hair BUT I FUMBLED AND ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE ASK ASKLAJDLKJSD

BUT NO WORRIES BABE!! I got your message and I love the way you think, literally NOT ENOUGH Viva out in the world I swear 😤😤

Viva x Reader: love is in the hair

Includes: GN! Reader, Reader w/ short hair, LOTS of fluff, one singular use of the word "fantastamazing"

🌟 Hair is kind of a big thing for trolls— Viva especially. Like c'mon. Literally 5 seconds after meeting Poppy and this girl's first instinct was to style her hair?? Chances are she does this with just about anyone, let's be real. It's basically her #1 love language <33

🌟 That being said, she was probably like?? Super shocked when she first met you???

🌟 Pop trolls in particular traditionally have big hair, and I mean BIG as in it can basically be 3/4ths of their entire height lol. Of course there are some expections but Viva, personally? She's never met someone with hair like yours before... she's honestly in awe

🌟 But being the quirky girlie she is, this troll thinks your uniqueness is fantastamazing!! In fact your hair is probably what drew her towards you in the first place

🌟 But like I said before: this girl love love LOVES playing around with other people's hair! Elaborate hairdos are an art form and she's perfected it to a "T" uwu

🌟 But... your hair doesn't give her much room to work, now does it?

🌟 She's a little devasted at first ngl. I mean part of the reason she's so fond of styling hair is cuz she loves seeing her work on others (girl's a bit of a showoff ashdlajddds). Whenever she spots her friends and loved ones going about with their hair still done, she's never felt prouder. With your short hair that might be a bit of a problem...

🌟 But obviously she's not gonna let something like hair length stop her from showing how much she likes you! >:3

🌟 She'll still put braids in your hair, of course, but can't stop from feeling a little sad that they won't be as visible...

🌟 BUT THEN SHE GOES TO PUT THEM IN AND LIKE... wow she has to be awfully close just to get to your hair, huh? The two of you are sitting on the floor of her room, crisscrossed and facing each other... and the strands of your hair are so short that her fingers can't help but sometimes brush against your face... which is pretty close to her face, actually...

🌟 Expect to have this woman beg offer to braid your hair on the daily from then on

🌟 Much like Poppy, I like to think Viva is a Live, Love, Craft kinda gal. Better believe she's gonna be slaving away to make some DIY hairpins and bobs, maybe some ribbons or beads she can tie into your hair!! She's also taking into consideration your sense of style and what you like, so all these trinkets are gonna be personalized as hell lol

🌟 LET HER PUT THEM IN FOR YOU PLEASE SHE'S ON HER KNEES—

🌟 If someone else happens to point out/compliment your hair and Viva's within hearing distance? Girl is literally about to split her face with how wide she's smiling

🌟 This girlie is DEFINITELY making you two matching trinkets, don't even deny it. She adores the idea of having something to showcase your guys' bond. Just a little somethin special for the two of you <33

🌟 Also she just wants to show you off who are we kidding

🌟 Loves getting her hair done too, so definitely don't feel afraid to ask! I mean, good luck getting her hyperactive ass to sit still long enough but like!! She's just so excited to have you reciprocate her love language, can you blame her?

🌟 The feelings of fingers or a hairbrush running through hair is a HUGE stress reliever for her. Whether she's giving or recieving the action doesn't matter. It's just relaxing for her

🌟 Quickly learns to love your short hair for this exact reason because like?? The length just makes the whole process just SOOOO much simpler??? She doesn't have to worry as much about her fingers snagging in too many tangles which is a plus for her lol

🌟 Also loves being able to tuck strands of your hair behind your ears! She thinks she's so suave whenever she does ;))

🌟 Daily hairdo sessions quickly become a regular occurence between you two

🌟 Just hangin out in her room, doing each other's hair while you guys talk about your days. Running a place like Putt Putt Village is hardwork so definitely let Viva lay her head on your lap as you brush her hair, or the other way around if you'd prefer!! If you reassure her and tell her all her work is appreciated tho...

🌟 Your ass is gettin smooched. No way to avoid it <33

AKSJDHAHS SHE'S SO BEAUTIFUL I LOVE HER SO MUCH!! The people workin on Trolls 3 did not NEED to give us Viva... but they DID and I'm forever grateful 😔

[joelswritingmistress]

You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 6

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader 

Did he just say that? He just said that. Right?

I wondered if I had somehow inserted that last excerpt from Dr. Miller’s mouth into the conversation on my own. Had my mind made it up because I wanted him so badly?

He was smiling now, not at all able to fight it back. I could tell that he was attempting to without avail.

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” His voice caused my knees to part under the table. I didn’t know if it was instinctual or if the muscles in my legs had suddenly just turned to Jello but I literally felt myself melt down further into the oversized mahogany chair.

“That, uh..” I toyed with a strand of my hair for a half-a-second in my nervous tic, “That makes me a lot of things.”

“Another round?” The waitress appeared out of thin air and I was about to speak but Dr. Miller responded, with a simple, “We’ll take the check.”

I wanted to stay. When he was so eager to get the check after just one drink I couldn’t fight off the look of discouragement that was written all over my face. I knew what I must have looked like and I couldn’t reel it in. And then I thought about it some more. Maybe he was getting the check because he wanted to go somewhere else.

Like his house. It was wishful thinking.

“Stop looking like someone just shit in your cereal.” His accompanying laughter made me grin. There had to be something up his sleeve. This night couldn’t end with such an obscene, suggestive comment and lead nowhere.

“Didn’t want another drink?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

“It’s a school night. We both have to be up early.”

“It’s barely nine o’clock.”

Dr. Miller gave a chuckle again and then looked up as the waitress handed him a black, leather case with the tab for two drinks tucked inside. He held up a finger, slipped a one hundred dollar bill inside and then handed it to her.

“I’ll be back with your change,” replied the woman.

“It’s yours.” He looked me in the eye as he spoke to her again and then began rising to his feet as he reached for his coat.

I followed his lead and allowed him to lead us out of the place.

“I’ll walk you to your car.”

Was the night really over? On that note? On that red hot amorous note that had been left with a teetering, ‘dot, dot, dot’ next to it. To be continued? Would it?

Stop freaking out! My brain was screaming, shrieking; throwing a fit like a five year old in Toys ‘R Us that didn’t get the toy she wanted to play with. On the outside I smiled, gripped my keys and tried not to stare for too long as I walked beside Dr. Miller.

“You never gave an elaboration to your response,” he said to me once we stood by the driver’s side door in front of the old church.

I looked down and back up. “Should I elaborate?”

“I’d like to know where we stand.” He looked at me with certainty but, again, there was the slightest hint of uneasiness in his posture. Dr. Miller was tense in his shoulders and it traveled up his neck into his jaw as he waited.

“So would I,” I responded, taking a breath. I couldn’t look away from those brown eyes that were swelled black around the pupil. I knew what that meant - at least I thought I did.

“Well, how about this?” He took a step in my direction so there were only a few inches between us. “If you want to discuss it further, I’m opening up my office hours during our regularly scheduled class time on Thursday. Seven-thirty, I’ll walk you into the building, myself.”

I cleared my throat. Of course I was going to go. “Thursday.” I gave a little nod, wishing I had something to say that would affect him as much as he was currently affecting me.

“Email me if you change your mind.”

“I won’t,” I said right away. My chest heaved beneath my jacket and I opened my mouth to speak. At first nothing came out but then I finally asked the question that had been on my mind for the past seven or eight minutes, “Was that true what you said?”

“Which part?”

“About the elevator.” I swallowed hard now and Dr. Miller laughed again.

“Save all of your questions for Thursday at seven-thirty.” He took a step toward me and then nodded toward my vehicle, “Now get in your car so I know you’re safe.”

I looked at his lips. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to lean in and see if he reciprocated, but from what I could tell of Dr. Miller, he was a forthright individual. If he wanted to kiss me, he would kiss me. He wanted to tell me about his racy musings when we were alone in the elevator. He wanted me to meet him alone at the school on Thursday. If he didn’t lean in for a kiss that means he didn’t want one.

Yet, I told myself.

I hit the button on my key fob and heard the click as my headlights flickered to let everyone in the immediate area know I had just unlocked the car.

“Goodnight (Y/N).” Dr. Miller gave a pained smile that emphasized the crow’s feet on the outskirts of his eyes.

“Goodnight Dr. Miller.” He didn’t correct me this time or ask me to refer to him as Joel. I knew at least a part of him liked having the title roll off my willing lips to acknowledge his authority over me.

Shutting my car door might as well have been shutting the jail cell. I gave a wave and started up the vehicle before reluctantly backing away from where he now stood on the walkway.

Even as I drove down the road, I glanced in my rearview mirror until I could no longer see his figure there and then finally turned the corner to head towards home.

The next day-and-a-half had me worrying about myself. My behavior felt obsessive. I had inspected every social media outlet in search of Joel Miller but there was nothing. He didn't even have a LinkedIn. That one, I had to say, surprised me.

No Snapchat. No Instagram. No Facebook. Nothing.

For my own senseless reasons it frustrated me. I wanted to know more about him. I wanted to see a collection of pictures from his life over the course of the past decade. I decided I was spoiled for having access to just about anyone else's life I wanted to dig into.

Maybe I should put my profiles on private. It was Dr. Miller's casual piece of advice. Anyone could dig into my life and I was too concerned about getting “likes” than I was my own privacy. 

I'm a walking cliche of today's pre-thirty generation. 

Seeing as though my plan to gain access to Dr. Miller's life fell flat on the pavement, I carefully adjusted the private settings on all of my accounts. It had been a suggestion echoed to me by numerous friends and professionals that I hadn't taken seriously; yet here I was after one fleeting proposition from a man I just met making the meager change to my digital identity.

After work on Wednesday I found myself driving past The Library. My eyes scanned for the black Mercedes and I was actually satisfied in knowing that Dr. Miller wasn't out at the bar - at least when I drove by. It allowed my brain to rest rather than toy with the idea of dropping everything to go search inside for him.

Yes, I was officially obsessing. It felt like a violation of not only Dr. Miller's privacy, but also my own sanity.

It didn't stop me from repeating the action on the following afternoon after work. My amateur investigations weren't particularly thorough, though I assumed his car would stand out if he had been around, especially when my eyes were actively seeking out one specific automobile. 

There was a light at the end of the tunnel, however. It was Thursday. It was the evening I would be attending Dr. Miller's office hours.

Office hours. I was sure he hadn't actually posted any office hours. I was going to be alone with him.

In all of my years I hadn't had an off-kilter fantasy. My brain had never fancied the idea of taboo love affairs, or men in uniform or any of the typical sexual scenarios that I had heard others speak about.

Now, the idea of letting my handsome, older professor take me on his desk was enough to ignite a fire in every single part of my body - my head, my heart, my soul, my.. everything.

I wouldn't deny him. Correction, I couldn't deny him. I had created the scenario in my mind time after time. It was far too heavy a weight on my shoulders by now to just shy away from. I wanted Dr. Miller in the worst way.

Tori, my roommate, eyed me suspiciously as I exited my bedroom that evening. My clothes were casual, though rather than a sweatshirt and my white Converse sneakers I wore knee-high, brown boots and a tight, gray sweater that revealed just a bit of cleavage. 

My ponytail was replaced by perfectly straightened hair and just a tad more than the average amount of makeup I typically sported. Yes, if our roles had been reversed I would have had questions. Unless we were going out somewhere I always slummed it in the most comfortably acceptable clothes I could manage.

“Umm..” My roommate’s eyebrows pressed together, “Do you have a date I don't know about?”

I decided to meet her questions in the middle. “I'm going to a quick study session.” Tori gave me an ‘I don't believe you’ look and so I went on, “And then I'm going out with a guy I met at school.”

My professor, I added in my mind.

Not quite a lie. Not quite the truth. But she seemed to believe it and so I smiled when she offered me good luck.

“I'll fill you in,” I lied, knowing whatever happened that evening I would surely be keeping to myself - at least for the time being. Although I loathed the ‘YOLO’ expression, there was a time for everything and so I reminded myself, you only live once.

The drive to Woodbridge had my stomach in knots. I didn't know what was going to happen. Suddenly I wondered if I would even know what to do. I was twenty-seven. I had had sex before - plenty of it actually. I wasn't a nun.. but I wasn't a freak either. What was Dr. Miller expecting? He had certainly been around the block a time or two.

The faintest hint of sweat coated my hairline, a result of my budding anxiety. I couldn't wait, but then again I was so completely out of my league. I had never met a man so sure of himself. The guys I had dated, we were on an even playing field. I felt like a fan in the stands of a rock concert that was just called on stage to sing with Bon Jovi.

Stop putting him on such a pedestal, I told myself; though I truly couldn't help it. All reason had betrayed me.

The black Mercedes was there when I pulled into the lot and I saw Dr. Miller casually step out of his vehicle the second my blinker winked in favor of the parking lot on the left off the main road that cut through campus.

I parked closer to the building and slowly climbed out of the car as he approached. I knew I was a mess. There was no hiding what I was feeling. I was sure he might even be able to hear the thudding of my heart in my chest.

“I offered to walk you in,” he reminded me, to which I nodded as we walked in silence through the threshold of the academic enclosure.

Dr. Miller walked with a purpose toward the elevator in the main lobby, eagerly pressing the down button that would lead us to the basement where his office and our lecture hall sat vacant.

I thought of his words from Tuesday night at the bar as the doors opened and we entered. There were no other people in the building that I saw. There were no cameras in the elevator. As the doors shut with a resounding thump I side-glanced at my professor.

Out of my peripheral vision I could see how tensely straight he stood. His eyes were straight ahead; focused. He didn't blink or move. It almost looked as if he was holding his breath.

Please. I begged him in my mind, though I have to say when the doors reopened and we emerged to the basement level I was disappointed that he didn't immediately try to jump my bones. The opportunity had presented itself for Dr. Miller to do all the dirty things he claimed to have been craving and he hadn't even flinched on the ride. It was okay, now, wasn't it? Now that he knew I was a willing participant.

You're being ridiculous. I was currently questioning my every thought, my every word, my every move.

The stillness of the typically buzzing building heightened my anxiety. It felt as if butterflies were having a rave inside of my stomach. The only sound that gave a mild echo off the walls of the vacant corridor were the gentle clicks of Dr. Miller's shoes.

My temperature felt like it was rising with each door we passed. I counted them to maintain some level-headedness.

One. Two. Three. Four.

When the fifth door came into clear view, Dr. Miller reached a hand into his khakis and removed a ring of keys. 

Next to the oversized, wooden door was a black piece of plastic with Dr. Miller’s name etched into it. Below his name was the door number: 007.

Of course it is, I thought, almost smiling and rolling my eyes. The heat returned to my cheeks, however, when my gaze met his from just a few inches away.

I swallowed hard when the silver key eased into the door handle, glancing down for just a second, before regaining his eyes.

There was a moment of hesitation on Dr. Miller's part before he finally turned the key and let the door swing open from a little push of his forearm.

“After you.” His arm extended outward now and the light automatically went on as I crossed through the threshold. “Can I get you something to drink?” 

He waltzed in, loosening his tie a bit as he rounded an oversized, espresso desk. 

“Umm.. no.” I shook my head, “No I'm fine.”

The corner of Dr. Miller's mouth tipped up in a little smirk. “Please, have a seat.” He motioned to a chair across from where he made himself comfortable and leaned forward with both hands folded on top of the desk.

I did as I was told. On the surface I thought I appeared like I had my shit together; like I wasn't imagining him pinning me down on the desk and having his way with me; like I wasn't conflicted about whether my feelings on the matter were wrong or right; or if he could lose his job if something did happen between us.

The man had a way of building tension. The brief moment of silence that lingered was deafening. His stare was almost too much for me. I wanted to say something, anything, but I couldn't find the words to kick off a conversation.

“I assume you still have the question in your mind.” Dr. Miller finally spoke. “From the other night.”

My chest heaved up and down once from a breath I hadn't realized I had been holding. I opened my mouth to speak but I was interrupted.

“Dr. Miller!” An overzealous young man waved a stack of papers and held an IPad under his arm as he entered through the open door from the hallway.

I held my breath for half-a-second. It was Trevor Nelson. I had had two classes with him and his sheer presence alone was enough to drive me crazy. Right then, he was the bane of my existence. What was he doing here?

His stammering repetition of Dr. Miller’s name almost led me to a physical eye roll.

“Good evening.” Dr. Miller extended his arm out and Trevor eagerly shook it. “Remind me again of your-”

“Trevor,” he more-or-less shouted, glancing at me briefly.

I could see Dr. Miller was taken off-guard, though it was his organically, suave nature that allowed him to get through the unwanted conversation with ease.

“What can I do for you Trevor?”

“I just wanted to discuss a few points from the reading if you had a moment,” Trevor said, “And seeing as though you sent out an email with office hours I suspected you had the time.”

Office hours. He did send out his office hours.

Fuck! Was I all wrong?

“Yes,” Dr. Miller motioned to a second chair beside me. “I wasn't expecting you,” he admitted, “I sent out a sign up sheet-”

“My Wifi kept malfunctioning,” Trevor went on, cutting him off. “I tried. And that's why I printed some things out. I just assumed you would be here anyway and..” He shrugged and then looked at me for the first time, “I'm surprised to see you here.”

Dr. Miller huffed a laugh now. He looked at me with raised eyebrows as if to study what my reaction would be. What would I say to Trevor’s snide remark?

His very tone and uppity attitude was the precise reason why I couldn't stand him.

“I had questions about the reading, as well.” I remained cordial. There was no way I was about to air out a petty reply that would make me seem bitter or immature in my ways.

“Well.. great. We can bounce questions off one another then.” Trevor forced a smile that, while mum, seemed to have the same whiny tone as his nasally voice. 

“I blocked off twenty minute time slots,” Dr. Miller reminded him. “I have another appointment at 7:50.”

My stomach dropped and our eyes caught one another’s. He winked as Trevor took a fleeting peek at his watch with as much disappointment as I knew my face had suddenly been white-washed with.

Despite the wink I couldn't tell if he was serious or lying. Was Trevor really fucking up my twenty minutes alone with Dr. Miller? Was there another student coming in at ten of eight?

As my classmate began his vexatious ramblings I felt a burning hostility brewing in my core. At one point Dr. Miller's foot grazed mine beneath the table but he didn't look in my direction as it happened.

I decided I had to harness my disdain, which I knew was heightened to an unwarranted degree for poor Trevor. I actively told myself to stop being a jerk.

The genuine question that I had from the reading the other night popped into my head. Hallelujah, reason prevailed.

“If it's not too morbid, do you think whoever killed the girl on campus might be suffering from Antisocial Personality Disorder?” It was my first genuine attempt to engage in the conversation. 

Typically, I truly did enjoy the subject matter. That night, however, my mind was deep in the gutter. That's why I had to run with the lone, pertinent thought that inhabited my brain.

Dr. Miller turned and a small smile formed on his face. The dimples that drove me crazy were out in full force and I could see he was intrigued by my question.

“Interesting.” He leaned back in his seat and folded one leg over the other. “Depending on the motive I could entertain it as a possibility.”

I smiled wide, enjoying his mild praise.

“That is an interesting question,” Trevor added.

My eyes shifted toward Trevor for a second as he eyed the ceiling as he pondered my question. When I looked back, Dr. Miller had tipped his mouth up in a half-smirk again.

When Trevor came back down to earth, our professor motioned to the clock above me on the wall. “I'm sorry to kick you out.” Dr. Miller looked directly at Trevor now, “I think we've ended this session with a valid question that we can open with during Tuesday's class.” He rose to his feet and extended an arm in my classmate’s direction, “Sit on that idea over the weekend. Bring some notes to class.” He glanced at me and added, “I think that was a great topic of conversation Ms. (Y/LN).”

“Thank you.” I gave a little nod and Trevor appeared appeased as the three of us began a natural shift toward the door.

“Thank you for your time Dr. Miller.” The young man smiled and tucked his IPad back under his arm before vacating the room ahead of me. He turned for a second and asked, “Do you think they'll catch whoever killed that girl?”

My gaze switched from Trevor to Dr. Miller and he sucked his teeth while folding his hands together on top of the table. “I'm no investigator,” he said, “But if you want my honest opinion..” a breath exited through his nose and he finished with a simple, “No. No, I don't.”

“Why not?” Trevor leaned an arm on the door and Dr. Miller laughed while motioning to the clock again.

“Save it for another time.”

Like Trevor, I wanted to know his reasoning; though I didn't dig deeper into it right then. As intriguing and scary as it all was, other emotions were tugging at my core.

“I'll see you in class,” Trevor said, though I didn't know if he was speaking to me or our professor. 

I wasn't so quick to leave, but I knew it was time. I hadn't expected Dr. Miller to actually post office hours so it was probable that there was another student about to arrive.

Was it a female student? Yep, sparked jealousy inside of me.

When Dr. Miller didn't immediately make a plea for me to stay, I wandered through the open door toward the hallway.

And then I jumped. It was almost inhuman how fast his arm wrapped around my midsection and pulled me back into the room with him with the ferocity of a wolf mauling a lamb.

A gasp escaped my lips when he turned me around to face him as the door closed and my back planted against it. It was all one giant obscure action; a whirlwind of tension released when our bodies were finally pressed up against one another's and I was left panting.

“I thought you had another-”

His finger found my lips to shut me up. A wicked smile advertised his true intentions and his blackened eyes could have set me ablaze right there.

“You are as gullible as your friend Trevor.”

Before I could respond his lips crashed against mine. They literally crashed leaving the back of my head slamming against the thick wood behind me. I barely felt it. 

What I did feel was a rush of adrenaline and desire and a thirst for the man that I couldn't suppress - not when his hands were roaming my body and his tongue aggressively penetrated my lips.

I could barely keep up. I had built the moment up so much and now that I was wrapped up in the middle of this avid tornado of passion it had far surpassed my fantasies.

My arms wrapped high around his shoulders, though he quickly pinned them above my head against the door with one hand. His other hand hastily fiddled in his pocket to remove a set of keys, at which time my cheeks blushed a more fiery red when I saw his arousal peaking the front of his khakis.

My eyes were the only part of me capable of moving freely. The rest of me was a willing prisoner to the force of his body against mine. I never wanted to be released.

Dr. Miller's key slipped into the slot in the center of the doorknob and a click secured us behind closed doors.

With an echoing clank the keys hit the floor and my aching, vacant lips were welcomed back with the immediate warmth of his. When his hand released both of mine on the door my arms instinctively wrapped around him again. I was on cloud nine; in a state of mindless bliss. For the first time, possibly ever, I thought of nothing and just acted without reserve.

It was only when I struggled to breathe that I took a parting breath, allowing air back into my aching lungs. Dr. Miller groaned with the brief separation though it gave him the second he needed to wrestle with the button on my jeans.

In that one swift movement of his fingers he had access to everything I had to offer. I bit my lip in anticipation of him touching me for the first time. Just before my eyes were forced shut I saw his hungry eyes drinking in every part of me.

Dr. Miller's over-pronounced sigh accompanied the sensation of his first two fingers as they made home against my most sensitive areas.

I moaned as quietly as possible, though he made the task more difficult when his lips grazed the area just beneath my ear.

I let out a louder moan when his fingers pushed inside of me and his hot breath landed on my neck, the other cupped over my mouth and my eyes suddenly snapped open.

“Shhh..” Dr. Miller gave a hushed reminder that we weren't exactly in our own private love shack while his fingers continued their exploration. “We wouldn't want Trevor to wander back here because he heard a suspicious noise would we?”

Slowly, his hand was removed from across my mouth. I reached a hand down toward his waist but he swatted it away.

“You're not ready for that yet,” he growled, still speaking in a voice just above a whisper.

I was paralyzed. Paralyzed by pleasure. Paralyzed by the thrill. Paralyzed by my raw attraction to Dr. Miller. At that moment I didn't think I could speak if I tried.

A brand new combination of nervousness and arousal made home within me when his free hand now lingered on my throat. The barely-there pressure added something to what I had been feeling all along.

“You like that?” It was closer to a statement than a question but I choked out a whispered, “Yes,” in response.

There was a shake in my legs that I couldn't relieve. Dr. Miller felt it. There was no way he didn't. I was writhing beneath him against the door as the distance between my parted feet on the floor widened with the spread of my legs.

It didn't take long to reach my climax that was induced by his fingers, his hand on my throat, and the dirty nothings he whispered as he encouraged my impending orgasm.

I struggled to maintain my composure. As the first curse word escaped my lips his hand more forcefully clamped over my mouth again, though all the same his lips found my ear again as he encouraged me to, “Let it out,” in a hiss of whisper.

That was the final push. Fireworks might as well have gone off in my lower half as my muffled moans sounded off against the warmth of his palm. My eyes alternated between open and closed in those final seconds and Dr. Miller's provocative growling voice took my right back to the dream I’d had. This was no dream.

The shot of adrenaline had filtered through my body, numbing my limbs like some type of drug had just been injected into my veins.

Fuck! For several seconds I could only focus on the pleasure as I breathed heavily in and out in an attempt to remain quiet.

When I began to come down off the high. All of my senses began to return and I could hear my own breathing as his generous hand warily crept back out from beneath my damp panties.

A smile formed on my face as he stared at him. I was hot and disheveled. My pants were still down off my waist and as I went to tug them back up Dr. Miller stopped me.

“Oh we're not done yet,” he assured me, glancing over his shoulder toward the oversized desk. When he turned back around he reached for my hand and towed me across the room. I felt like I was floating.

When he made himself comfortable in the oversized chair, I just stared at him. With the two fingers that had just been inside of me he waved for me to come to him and pulled me down in for another heated kiss before whispering against my lips. “Now you're going to get down on your knees and return the favor.”

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @amyispxnk @grogusmum @michilandcof @morallyinept @akah565 @cesspitoflove @brittmb115

[ophanum]

Could we get some scenarios of Jerome Valeska (Gotham) x reader based on "partners in crime" by set it off? I always thought that song was sooooo Jerome.

PARTNER'S IN CRIME - ! Gotham TV

ft. Jerome Valeska x Reader

TW: child abuse, mention of robbery, mention of murder, gotham typical violence.

"We swore that death will do us part, they call our crimes a work of art..." - Partners in Crime by Set It Off

┈─★

You and Jerome constantly push each other to go bigger and crazier. The moment either of you suggests an idea that sounds even a little dangerous, the other one’s already in, no questions asked.

Breaking into high-security places, taunting the GCPD, or setting up elaborate traps just for the thrill of it are your favorite ways to spend the night. Jerome loves to show off in front of you.

Every time he pulls off a daring stunt or crazy scheme, he glances back to see your reaction, eager to see you impressed.

Jerome has a twisted way of showing he cares, but when it comes to you, he’s fiercely protective. If anyone even hints at disrespect toward you, he’s ready to make them regret it.

You’re his sounding board for every insane idea. He’ll run every chaotic scheme by you, half because he trusts your opinion and half because he wants to see the glint of excitement in your eyes.

Jerome finds your bravery magnetic. He’s not used to anyone else matching his fearlessness, so he admires how unflinching you are in the face of danger. You’re his equal, and he won’t hesitate to remind you of that.

There’s a constant game of one-upmanship between you two. If he does something daring, you’ll find a way to do something riskier, and he absolutely loves the challenge.

In heists, you have an ongoing bet about who can grab the most valuable items. He’ll take it over-the-top, swiping expensive artifacts just to watch you roll your eyes and beat him to the next prize.

Jerome sometimes makes up little “missions” just for you—leaving clues around Gotham or setting up little challenges to test your skills, all for his amusement.

Jerome considers you his ride-or-die, and that means the two of you have each other’s backs, no matter the situation. If there’s ever a close call, Jerome won’t leave until he’s sure you’re safe, even if it means jeopardizing his own escape.

You and Jerome have a sort of unspoken code. He’ll always go back for you, and you’ll always follow him, no matter how insane the scheme.

The loyalty you share makes you both even more dangerous—together, you’re unstoppable, and everyone in Gotham knows it.

Jerome has his way of showing affection, which usually involves pulling you into his schemes and indulging in shared chaos. For him, creating mayhem is a form of love language, and he’s delighted when you’re on board.

He’s surprisingly affectionate in private moments, sometimes calling you “darling” instead of "doll" in a teasing way but with a genuine fondness in his tone. The only time he’s ever soft is when he’s around you—when the madness quiets just a bit.

Jerome’s touch is always possessive, whether it’s grabbing your hand to pull you into action or casually draping his arm around your shoulders. You’re his, and he’s not shy about showing it.

You and Jerome share a twisted sense of humor, often laughing at things that would horrify most people. Sarcastic remarks, dark jokes, and inside quips are constant between the two of you.

Even during tense situations, you both find ways to lighten the mood. While the GCPD has you cornered, Jerome might whisper something outrageous just to get a reaction out of you.

The banter between you two is quick, sharp, and often laced with double meaning. He loves it when you tease him right back, matching his energy word-for-word.

Jerome considers you his true partner in chaos. You’re both so unpredictable that Gotham’s criminals and cops alike are always on edge, never knowing what you’ll do next.

There’s an unmistakable thrill in each new plan. The more dangerous, the better. You two live for the shared rush of adrenaline, often ending up laughing uncontrollably after a close call.

Whenever Jerome is planning something big, he refuses to execute it without you. He insists it’s “our thing,” and you both need to be there to make it unforgettable.

Jerome’s wild energy captivates you from the start, drawing you into his chaotic world. You both plan a “simple” heist, but of course, Jerome has something else up his sleeve, craving mayhem beyond the initial plan. You’re hesitant at first but find yourself unable to resist the thrill of breaking boundaries with him, laughing and running as alarms blare. Jerome’s eyes light up with pride, his smirk wide as he calls you his “partner in crime.”

During a break from wreaking havoc in Gotham, Jerome pulls you into an abandoned building with an old record player he “borrowed” from somewhere. He puts on a record and dances with you under the flickering lights, twirling you around and whispering, “We could burn it all down together.” The music is the soundtrack to your crimes, his infectious laugh echoing in your ears, making you feel invincible. He assures you that Gotham will remember the both of you, side by side, for the chaos you bring.

You and Jerome barely escape a trap set by Jim Gordon. Hiding out in an old warehouse, both of you are breathless and exhilarated, feeling that “us against the world” rush. Jerome, always the dramatic one, takes a moment to make a grand declaration: “Nothing can keep us apart—not even the law.” He grins, completely unbothered by the close call. For him, each chase is just another thrill, and he revels in the danger with you by his side, knowing you’ll follow him anywhere.

Jerome comes up with an elaborate plan, probably too risky, but one that would leave a memorable mark on Gotham’s heart—think giant laughing gas canisters in key city spots or hijacking a Gotham TV station. You’re his trusted right hand, and he lets you in on every detail. Before the night of the plan, he tells you he doesn’t care if it all burns as long as you’re with him. “You’re my masterpiece,” he whispers with a grin. The two of you make sure that whatever you do, you leave Gotham with a smile.

Cornered by the GCPD, Jerome and you find yourselves in what feels like a no-win scenario. Jerome, always a thrill-seeker, is ecstatic even in the face of defeat, pulling you close and whispering, “If this is it, then we’re going down together.” It’s a rare, oddly tender moment, filled with adrenaline and dark promise. You both vow that if you ever go down, you’ll make it legendary. Even if you escape this time, the pact lingers, making every encounter with danger more thrilling.

Jerome finally orchestrates his “grand finale”—he plans something so chaotic that Gotham will never forget him, or you by extension. It’s risky, but he assures you it will be “glorious.” As explosions shake the city and laughter fills the air, you and Jerome stand together in the aftermath, knowing this night will be the one that cements you both as Gotham’s most infamous partners. In this final moment, there’s a wild, electric connection, a mutual understanding that neither of you would have it any other way.

--

You’re perched on the edge of a rooftop overlooking the dark Gotham skyline, cigarette in hand, laughing at the sirens below from your latest heist. No one knows it was you, but you enjoy watching the chaos you created play out in real time. Just as you’re savoring the thrill, a voice rings out behind you.

“Now that’s a laugh I’d recognize anywhere.”

Turning, you see Jerome Valeska, grinning like he’s already won. His vibrant red hair catches in the low light, and his eyes, full of something between madness and admiration, are locked on you. Instead of reacting with fear like he expects, you smirk right back, tossing your cigarette off the ledge and meeting his gaze.

“Oh, so the infamous Jerome decided to grace me with his presence,” you say, undeterred by his reputation. “I must be doing something right.”

His grin widens. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re doing a lot of things right.”

From that night, your partnership is born, though neither of you would admit it. The city becomes your playground as Jerome insists on raising the stakes with each crime you commit. The two of you start small—a bank heist here, a stolen car there. But quickly, the thrill escalates into something bigger. Jerome’s mind is always turning, and your risk-taking nature pushes him further, igniting his most twisted schemes.

One night, Jerome proposes something audacious: taking over the mayor’s office and using it as a base for your next heist. You laugh at the idea—until you realize he’s completely serious. Rather than back down, you agree to it, seeing it as the ultimate challenge.

The two of you break into City Hall, slipping past guards and taking control of the mayor’s office as your headquarters for the night. The whole ordeal is pure chaos. The thrill of it sends a rush through your veins, amplified by Jerome’s laughter and wild energy.

As you catch your breath, he leans in, whispering, “We’re unstoppable, you and I. Just imagine the things we could do together.”

Despite your fearless front, you’re always one step away from questioning where this might lead. You and Jerome are a hurricane, tearing through Gotham, creating a wave of mayhem that no one can predict. But there are moments, late at night, when it’s just the two of you, and his madness seems almost… contagious.

One night, as you’re cleaning up after a particularly messy escapade, Jerome catches you off guard by asking, “Why do you do it? The thrill?”

His tone is quieter than usual, and for a moment, you see something raw in his eyes. You smirk, playing it cool, but deep down, you know you’re hooked on the thrill and, more frighteningly, on him.

“Why not?” you reply, leaning close, your voice a whisper. “No one gets it like we do, Jerome. No one else would ever keep up.”

He laughs, the sound dark and rich, but there’s a glint in his eye—a recognition that you’re just as lost to the chaos as he is.

Jerome eventually lets you in on his “grand vision”—a finale that will make Gotham remember your names forever. It’s a twisted, glorious plan, and he wants you right by his side for it. He outlines every detail with a manic glee, his hands gesturing wildly, his eyes bright with excitement. He’s a man possessed, and he knows you’re the only one who could possibly match his ambition.

On the night of the plan, you and Jerome stand atop a Gotham skyscraper, watching as the city’s lights flicker below you. You can feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins, the thrill of what’s to come. And as he leans in, his voice a low murmur against your ear, he says, “You’re the only one who’s ever understood me, you know that?”

“Same goes for you, Valeska,” you reply, locking eyes with him. There’s something both chilling and exhilarating in his gaze, and you’re drawn in completely, heart pounding as the chaos unfolds around you.

In that moment, you both know that Gotham may tremble at the sight of you, but it will never break you apart. You are partners in every sense, drawn to each other’s darkness, each fueling the other’s madness.

And for now, there’s nothing you would rather be.

[so-long-soldier-writes]

dating elijah mikaelson

elijah mikaelson x human!fem!reader | request

tags: fluff, mentions of sex but nothing explicit

word count: ~1.4k

⊱ him introducing you to his family one-by-one, because he knows they’re a handful

rebekah immediately loves you but makes you swear you won’t break his heart. promises her family will be loyal if you are to them

kol is kol when he meets you - a bit flirty and picking on his brother. it’s not long before he treats you like a sister, though

it’s harder to gain klaus’ trust, but once he knows you’re not a spy to take down his family, he learns to love you. admits he’s glad his brother found someone that makes him happy

⊱ always being invited to family dinners. soon, you don’t even need an invite; they expect that you’ll be there, and will pout all night if you’re unable to come

⊱ going to every party and event with elijah, wearing dresses he’s bought you and matching them with his ties

⊱ speaking of which, him always buying you things. mostly dresses and expensive jewelry, but also anything else that catches his eye

⊱ and if there’s not event for you to attend to wear one of these dresses, he hosts his own private dances for just the two of you in the mansion’s ballroom

teaches you elaborate dance styles from all different decades, and has music to match any time period

at the end of the night, will take you outside princess-style to look at the stars from the balcony

standing in silence with his arms wrapped around you until you get cold, to which he’d then wrap his jacket around your shoulders or bring you back inside

or, you’ll go on walks through the garden and have long talks about anything and everything

⊱ long walks through gardens in the daytime, too, where he picks you flowers

⊱ always showing subtle displays of affection, whether in public or not. holding hands, kissing your cheek, keeping a hand around your waist

⊱ he’s extremely protective and won’t hesitate to take a life to save yours

⊱ will also put himself in harms’ way for you, but then refuses to let you heal him

“just a little bit, baby, come on,” you hold your wrist out to him

“i can’t risk hurting you”

eventually, you’re able to coax him into drinking just enough to help him stand, but that’s it. he heals you back immediately even if you don’t need it

⊱ finding little messages and love letters everywhere. in your coat pockets, under your pillow, in the place of a bookmark. his writing is poetic and straight from the heart

⊱  but while you love the romantic side, you like to keep him on his toes, too

a little bit of child-like behavior never hurt anyone

you’ve scared him several times by hiding behind doors and popping out as he passes. once, you even got a curse word out of him

you’ve also convinced him to join you in the pool on several occasions, with or without being fully clothed (only at night, of course)

sometimes, you’ll go outside together, away from the city, and explore the woods. you always come back feeling more at peace and definitely more in love

⊱ while on the topic of love, you’re the first to confess it, but he knows he’s loved you long before either of you say the words

you say it while you were cuddling one night. he doesn’t know how to reply, but you tell him it’s okay to say nothing

he wants so badly to tell you the truth about how he feels, but is too afraid that the minute he utters them, something would happen to you

but then he tells rebekah about what had happened and she berates him for it

“you obviously love her, you’ve got to tell her! you can’t live in fear, elijah, you have to go for what you want in this world. if you lose her, it may be too late. besides, our enemies aren’t the only thing that could take her from you. what if she’s worried right now that she made a big mistake in confessing that? what if she runs?”

rebekah makes so many good points, and the fear of what he had done (or rather hadn’t done) begins to eat away at him. but he doesn’t want to rush admitting it, though, so he prepares a night for just the two of you

he cooks a whole dinner and decorates the ballroom. he even buys you a new dress for the occasion, then gives a time to meet him at there

convinces rebekah to take her siblings out of the house for it. gets klaus easily, but kol will not stop teasing him for it. elijah ends up making a deal with davina to get him to go away. he trades an embarrassing baby story for the girl to keep him out of the house for the night, which she gladly accepts

finally, after his siblings are out, he greets you at the door with a kiss on the hand, then the cheek

he works up the courage during dinner conversation, and then at last, during a slow, romantic waltz, utters the words he’s wanted to tell you all this time

he doesn’t stop there, though. he makes sure to tell you everything you make him feel, everything he wants to have with you, how much he really loves you

the night is cut short as you take him upstairs by the hand to take advantage of your time alone

nsfw-ish

⊱ your first time together happened long before any confessions of love, but each time you did after was so much more special than the time before it

⊱ your first time, he was incredibly gentle, not wanting to hurt you

you are, after all, human

he was terrified of causing any pain, because he knows he’s a hundred times stronger, especially in times he’s chasing his lust for you

eventually he learned you could handle him, though, and let himself give in just a little bit. only because you convinced him you wanted it

⊱ the first time he was rough was when he was pissed off about an irresponsible decision klaus made, and you provided yourself as an anger for his outlet

⊱ he’s always dominant with you, but this was a whole new level, and you loved it ⊱ sometime after that, you admitted how much you loved it, and he started to realize you aren’t as innocent as you look

⊱ slowly started exploring more, but he always made you repeat the safeword before doing anything, just to remind you it’s there

⊱ always puts you first and would much rather pleasure you than have any attention paid to himself

you still make sure to please him, though, even if he’s nearly begging you to just let him do all the work

little does he know, the begging just makes you want to defy him more

⊱ slow and romantic happens about equally as hot and rough does

tries his best to balance the two, but he would rather be slow as much as possible. he wants you to feel how much he loves you at least once a week.

⊱ will let you be dominant sometimes, but only after you’ve had a day where you need to feel in control, or after he’s had a day where he needs to feel taken care of

secretly loves being submissive to you but could never do it on a regular basis

⊱ does not take aftercare lightly, no matter the case

cleans you up with a bath, or hot rag if you refuse to get out of bed

applies creams and lotions to your body as necessary

kisses your skin or massages anywhere that you feel a little pain or discomfort

⊱ you usually convince him to cuddle with you afterwards

it was odd to him at first, but soon learned to love and value it

sometimes you’ll fall asleep together. you both love waking up in each other’s arms and sharing a kiss first thing in the morning

⊱ after a couple months, you spend the night with him almost always. eventually, you move in with him and his siblings, too

him making coffee and breakfast for you all

his siblings making fun of his messy hair on mornings after rougher nights

⊱ dating until he can’t stand it anymore and needs to marry you

⊱ living the rest of your lives together; always and forever

[suneslvr]

Hello how are you? I hope you are good. I would like to make a request for Dazai, Chuuya along with any other characters you want to add with a Fem!Reader Weird? or paranoid? who is intelligent and creates emergency plans for almost everything (he actually makes elaborate plans for silly things like "what if... a dog stood up on two legs and talked to me?", "what if a ghost appears" and stuff like this) Feel free not to accept this request!

skeptic....

warnings ; nothing lol (not proofread)

obsidian; (dazai x f!reader), (chuuya x f!reader), (fyodor x f!reader)

notes: i'm doing fine! sorry this took so long, tysm for the request!

% - DAZAI_______________

Dazai is so love in with you, it's kind of scary. he's enamored with the way you move, the way you talk, and even the way you seem to question absolutely everything. He likes to joke about how you'll make a great detective but sometimes it actually worries him. He could make a joke and would be able to see the paranoia spark up in your eyes, most of the time though, he plays along with you, when you see a dog staring at you for too long and subsequently decide it's a skin walker, he'll deliberately feed into your delusions unless there hurting your health in any way. Most people think your clinically insane, but even Dazai can't question the fact that your incredibly smart. Most of the time your skeptism is backed by evidence that if anyone thought longer about would come to the same conclusion as you. Sometimes he has to use this against you if one of your theories take up too much of your time and is affecting your health. He'll pull up evidence of why your wrong and the actual answer to your question. He'll just have to hope with how smart you are, you'll listen.

%-CHUUYA______________

Chuuya, though doesn't look like it, is very smart. and he's very happy your intelligent as well. But the way you seem to think everyone who stands next to you for longer than ten seconds is stalking you doesn't put you in the brightest light. And of course, in front of other people he pretends to believe you, he would never embarrass you like that, if you said that you think the moon is secretly a camera because of all of its holes in front of somebody, he's backing you up with every crazy theory ever. Though when your alone, you have gotten into many arguments about your latest unusual speculation. None that have hurt your relationship but good lord, there have been so many arguments about whether the sun is going to explode next tuesday. Sometimes though, your skeptism spreads to chuuya, either while he's on a mission or just doing something in everyday life. He can be on a mission and see one of the members looking at his phone and think that he's secretly an alien planning to take over the world from the inside. Of course, he brushes off these thoughts very quickly, but they still show up. Like when he's making toast in the morning, and the toasters gets a little too red and now he's thinking it's about to catch on fire. Again, that's just how toasters work.

%-FYODOR________________

Fyodor thinks everything you do is cute even the way you make crazy theories about weird aliens is the most adorable thing ever. He likes to pretend like he believes you just so you can keep going on about your insane theories. He'll make sarcastic comments about your theory and ask even more ridiculous questions. Though if your latest theory starts affecting your health, he'll be quick to shut it down, not even giving you evidence on why you were wrong. He wouldn't even bring up the topic after that. But he would be the type to tease you, saying that if you weren't so crazy then you could really help him with this work. Of course, he doesn't think you're crazy, some of him thinks that this is just a running joke, and all of your theories are just you messing with him. If you were in front of people, he would unfortunately embarrass you. If you made a weird theory, he would, in front of everyone, debunk it with evidence and subsequently make you sound insane. He knows all of your theories are false but sometimes when he's alone, if he sees anything slightly abnormal, he'll think about all of the theories you would have made if you were there.

requests are encouraged <333

[littlekohai77]

Pole vault

🅆🄰🅁🄽🄸🄽🄶🅂: reader being insecure and having a horrible self image, colorism cause Asian beauty standards are toxic. Reader mentioned to not be as white as A4 paper. Reader mentioned to be chubby and short. Reader lowkey checking hyun-su out.

It always infuriates you when you react to something in a manner that's slightly... Humiliating. When you can't hide how much you're affected. Whether that be for a positive or a negative thing.

You hate that all your emotions show up on your face. You hate that people can read you so easily. That people know exactly what cards to play to get to you.

That's exactly what you had thought when Hyun-su first approached you.

You were freshly dumped out of a toxic friend group when he'd met you.

At first you didn't pay him much mind. He was irresistible, yes. But... You knew he'd never like you. He was literally wanted by every girl in school. All they had left to do to get the point across was physically hunt him down.

You weren't conventionally pretty, skinny or social.

You didn't have too many friends in high school, just a senior and his little sister to hang around. And of course, the kind janitor.

Nobody really wanted to hang out with you, and... It might've been your fault. Partly.

You had been quite guarded and hostile during your freshman year, after getting bullied in middle school. Which drove people away. Cause aint nobody got the time to climb that wall.

But he did.

You two didn't even met all too often, small run ins at the convenient store that happens to stock your favorite drink and happens to be close to his school.

Passing by each other on the way to home. You'd be leaving a little late, cleaning up the club room with Eun-hyuk.

As soon as you'd step out the gate, you'd bump into him. Coincidentally. So many times... The timing so perfect you'd almost be convinced that he was waiting for you.

But of course he wouldn't. You two don't even know each other.

But he always tried to strike up conversations. At first, it was annoying. Painfully so, to be having to respond to small talk. Your head aching.

You had acted rudely quite a few times. Which he either laughed off, stayed quiet for 5 minutes, or give a rebuttal. The latter would ensue a verbal fist fight.... A one sided verbal fist fight. With you delivering the most hints and him walking it off.

You didn't understand what made him stick around. You wouldn't hang out with yourself either, than.. Why?

But then he began to grow on you. You began to somewhat look forward to it. At the time you'd blamed it on the made up fact that he'd become a part of your routine.

But now that you look back on it, that fondness was probably you finally beginning to accept him as a friend.

"Why that face? "

"What do you mean? " you responded, wiping away the obvious frown you had previously. Damnit, he has sharp eyes.

"Your face, are you.. Upset today? " his head tilted to the right, resembling a curious puppy.

"Maybe... " you shrugged, not really wanting to elaborate.

"Why? " he leaned in closer to your side.

Which made you a bit annoyed...or rather flustered "What why? "

"Well.. Tell me. "

"You... Wanna know? " you sounded surprised. And your surprise seemed to have made him surprised. As if he didn't expect that people don't actually wanna hear other's problems.

"I wanna. " he vehemently nodded his head, his fluffy hair bouncing in a way that made your fingers twitch at your side, wanting to touch it.

"Well... I've been.. Failing chemistry lately.. " you looked ahead at the road and slightly sped up your pace.

"Mhm.. "

"And... It's really taking a toll on me. "

"But why? "

You released a sigh through your nose in frustration, even if he grew on you, there was still a part of him that you hated, his 'why's that would dig into the parts that you didn't want to discuss, the parts that made you squirmy. Embarrassed.

"What do you mean 'why' ???!!? "

"Why do you care about your grades so much? "

"I... Isn't that normal? To care? " your attempted to deflect.

"Well... Yeah but.. Usually that's when your parents also care. And... It seems you dad doesn't necessarily? "

"... You know my dad? "

"Ran into him thrice. "

"Oh well.. You won't get it. " and that was your dismissal. The one thing he couldn't yet break past in this acquaintance like relationship that you share, that existed only on the road to home. And it upset him, that much you could gauge from his pout.

Silence ensued

"...."

".... "

"Okay... Maybe I won't" he muttered with a sigh of defeat. Clutching the strap of his book bag and bouncing it higher on his left shoulder.

More silence.

But not meaningless silence.

He was scratching the back of his head, and pulling at his bangs. Seemed like he had his thinking cap on.

"But, how about this? I'm pretty okay at chemistry so.. I'll tutor you? "

"For how much? "

"Uhm.. I dunno..free? "

You were surprised he'd be that generous.. But maybe it's not that surprising considering he's talking to you.

"You're not taking anything? "

"Not that I can think of... What are you willing to give? "

"Uhmm... Not money? "

He gave you a feigned glare of judgement.

"Cheapskate."

Oh... Had it struck 6:00 pm already? Seems like it's time for your routinely one sided verbal assault.

"Says the one who buys nearly expired bread. Thinks he's all that with that Vector lookin ass hair cut. Wearing above the knee shorts like a kindergartener but I guess it suits you since you got the mentality of one too. Would explain why you got spinach in your teeth-ALSO you said you don't want money, so that shouldn't even matter! You're just tryna get under my skin at this poi-"

"Tutor me in physics. "

"Huh? "

"Tutor, me, in, physics. "

"You're bad at physics of all things? " now it was your turn to be judgemental.

"Yeah, I know. Tragic that someone as perfect as me can have imperfections. But I believe that makes me all the more charming!!✨" the way he brushed his hair back and stepped under the street light made you want to roll your eyes into the next dimension.

"Stop acting like Tamaki. "

"Thought you liked him? " he grins that infuriatingly charming grin and wiggles his eye brows teasingly.

"That was a horrible impression. " you say after a feigned gag.

"Ehhhh whatever. Gimme your number. "

"Huh? "

"For the tutoring session? I mean, if it's like at your house and mine, I'm fine with that too... Not that I know your address so.... Might need that. "

Of course... He'd never ask for your number.

A realization hits you and you suddenly start stomping off. BECAUSE WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU CARE ABOUT HIM ASKING FOR YOUR NUMBER?? IT'S NOT LIKE YOU HAD A CRUSH ON HIM OR ANYTHING??? BRO IS YOUR SELF ESTEEM REALLY THAT LOW THAT YOU'D GET AFFECTED EACH TIME A PRETTY BOY DOESN'T WANNA BE WITH YOU????? AJHZJAHXJNSZN

"OIIIII! WAIT! WHAT HAPPENED??!! WHAT THE HEL-"

He yelled, running after you. Grabbing your hand and turning you around, and your forehead hit his chin.

"Ouch! Ahhhh... " he mutters rubbing it. You didn't apologize, head too busy spinning in circles. His hold wasn't that strong. It was firm.. But you could definitely break it off had you tried.

"What's the matter? I mean, if it's too much.. Fine we can forget we ever agreed to that. I just... I just wanted to help....... "

Silence from you.

"Look I.... I wasn't trying to upset you so like... I'm sorry if I did... Can you... " he looks into your eyes pleadingly and all you give him back is silence.

"Can you at least tell me so that... So that I can properly apologize? " he was nervous. He looked like he was an inch away from whimpering like a kicked puppy. And you slowly began to come back from your disassociative state.

"No it's... Uhhh.." Why's he looking at you with those eyes...

"Yes? "

"Sure I'll give you my number... And... Anddd... "

"And? " and then you kinda just rambled off without thinking because you'd become hyper aware for his hand around your wrist and his warm touch against your cold.

"Andddd.... Annddd we can't do it at home... They'll... Probably assume that we're.... We're.... "

"Dating? "

"Yeah... That... " you nodded, staring at his lips and nose. Too afraid to look into his eyes. Too afraid that you'd crumble to your knees at the sight. At the touch of him against you. Why does it feel so nice? It's like you're floating. It's making you dizzy. Because it's him, Hyun-su. The boy you used to watch play from your window when you were 9. The one you'd leave random things for on his doorstep. Hoping at least he'd notice. He didn't have to like it. Just acknowledge them. He probably doesn't remember the many times you've met before. Because you were a nobody. A nobody that he was now standing in front of. Holding onto. His was so close. You could almost smell his cologne and a hint of sweat. His body was so close. Heat literally radiating off of it. You could make out the muscles under his shirt. God you were such a pervert.

"Hey... You okay? " when that sweet saccharine voice of his flows into your ear, you feel like you might just collapse. Fuck, when did his face get so close? Your knees are starting to buckle and you hope that you crash into his chest when you fall. So that you can hear if his heart is beating as fast as yours. Maybe that'd break this fantasy of yours. Because who'd want to be with you. You were chubby. Your inner thighs brushed against each other when you walked, you got tummy rolls when you sat down. You were short. Your skin wasn't pale. You didn't have any particular talents. Your only sense of self worth based on your scores-

"Y/n?? " now both his hands were on your cheeks, squishing your face slightly. His worried yet angelic face so close you felt like you were suffocating, heart in your throat.

A car horn broke the haze.

You peeled off his hands and continued walking.

After a few paces you uttered a number as he stayed behind, beyond confused.

"xxxxxxxxxxxxxx"

"What? "

"My number? "

"Oh... Could you repeat that? " he quickly pulled out his cellphone. Growing confused when you picked at your nails.

"Hmmm... I don't know... My throats kinda dry... A soda would help me speak... " you thought he probably would give up after this.

"ALRIGHT! LESSS GO!! ☆(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*"

He was so overjoyed that he almost dropped his phone. Grabbing onto your hand and running across the street so fast that you almost got whiplash.

His touch was still electrifying. But not like before, where it was to the point that you wanted to squirm away.

When you two arrived at the convenient store, you were the one to break off his hold. As you could feel your lips quirking up. And you didn't want that. You didn't want to be vulnerable in front of him. Not yet.

He was nice. Probably the nicest guy you'd ever met and you didn't want that illusion to be broken too quickly. So let him be cautious, let him think he doesn't affect you.

As you left the convenient store, sipping your soda and his phone in hand, dialing in your number.

You took a glance at his lock screen before returning it. "You're such a basic bitch. "

"Heyy!" He just pouted in return.

Silence again...

But...

Oddly.. Okay?

Comfortable even.

"Did you mean that when you said there's spinach in my teeth? "

Of course he never shuts up. And you loved him for that. Because he didn't just climb that wall. He fucking pole vaulted over it.

*･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･*

I might've portrayed him wrong but I wanted to give off the feeling that he was really comfortable around reader. And also this is before he got bullied so... Yeah. Probably didn't portray reader's insecurities well enough either. This is so cringe god help me I just wanna get to monster part.

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