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justsomerandomfanfic · 14 days ago

Note

The Basics: My name is Eurydice (not my real name), I’m 21 and use she/her pronouns. I’m heterosexual and heteromantic, but also on the ace spectrum lol, I think demisexual is probably the right way to describe me. Also I’m 5’0 so very throwable.

My Aesthetics/Tastes: I’d describe my style as “Girl Reporter” because I incorporate a lot of 40s-60s vintage/vintage inspired elements, but I keep it generally pretty comfortable and practical to move around in. Same for makeup, I like my bold lips and fun eye-makeup but nothing too complex that it can’t be done in under 30 minutes before class. Also my favorite color is red and I may be a *tad* bit obsessed with it. My music tastes are similarly vintage, I’m not a genre snob but I don’t tend to prefer swing jazz, musical theatre, jazz standards, classic rock, etc (I also have a soft spot for classical). In terms of genre I *adore* a good mystery/whodunnit, or historical, or action/adventure, or comedy. My sense of humor is more British than American, it leans on the drier, wittier, more cynical side and I *really* don’t like gross-out humor. Also, I do *not* like heavy drama or horror, although I will watch horror if I have someone with me to cling onto (if they don’t mind the odd accidental clawing lol). Also I adore cats, I have two siamese cats they are my babies, and I think crows are hella dope. I love stormy or humid weather but only when its warm, honestly I dislike cold weather in general unless there’s snow.

My Romantic Sensibilities: (Trying to keep this fairly simple so you’ll choose the people you think I’m the most compatible with rather than who I’d like to most). I prefer nice guys/heroic types, and I have particular soft spot towards former villains/douchebags turned heroes (self-honesty and active character development is hot tbh). Appearance-wise I love men with beautiful eyes, not of any particular color or shape or what have you just lovely and expressive. I also prefer more masc presentation. My giving love languages are acts of service, physical touch and gift giving. My receiving love languages are acts of service, quality time, and physical touch. I am very very awkward and inexperienced in love and so so bad at being assertive and honest about my feelings, I’m rather self-conscious about being vulnerable like that. Saying romantic things makes me feel so embarrassed and I definitely go a little thunder as I try to deflect with humor lol.

Hobbies/Work: I’m pre-med and a chemistry major so a solid portion of my life is taken up in school and I also work as a volunteer EMS/at a free healthcare clinic/peer tutor (no, I don’t get paid for the EMS or the clinic, yes, I do end up working the same number of hours as a full-time job 😭 I like it though. I do get minimum wage for tutoring!). In the spare time I do have I like to participate in theatre on and off stage (I take musical theatre and classical singing lessons! I’m actually really proud of my voice; I’ve won competitions before), I can’t dance for shit though, three left feet. I also play D&D and other TTRPGs and love love love Rennfaires. I’m also a big nerd about history, American comics, and folklore, among other things. I’ve been trying to get more into cosplay/historical costuming because I’m super interested in it but I don’t have the time or money 😭. I don’t have a ton of time for reading but when I do I try to find some fun, lighthearted classic lit (like Jane Austen, The Scarlet Pimpernel, etc), because I want to spend my limited time on something worthwhile reading and important but also I don’t like being sad and bored?

Personality: I’m a major perfectionist, but I’m proud of how hard I work. I’m passionate about what I do, for fun or for work. Sometimes its healthy but sometimes it can spiral into self-hatred, or at least self-consciousness, when I don’t live up to my own high standards. I can be a bit obsessive, autistic hyperfixation go brr. I like to talk about the things that interest me. I talk a lot, I’m more than a bit socially awkward, I tend to ramble and I can be more than a bit oblivious to subtle social cues or the feelings of other’s sometimes, also I’ve got that vampire Autism where you have to explicitly invite me into conversations. I’m very emotionally expressive when I speak. I have a bit of a temper, I’m impatient and stubborn and can get surly, but I’m working on it. I’m proud to say I’m actually really good in a crisis, something I’ve learned from first hand experience. Although I’m pretty ass at leadership, lol its a skill like anything else, and I don’t have a ton of practice (I tend to be a bit of a loner). Also fun fact: I have sensory processing disorder, which leads to me having chronic insomnia, needing subtitles on everything and being a majorly picky eater (woo, fun).

HI, Eurydice!

I hope you like your matchups! :)

I'm pretty excited about all of them, I had a lot of fun writing this.

It's a bit of a read, but I was heavily inspired!

So, without further ado!

Your matches!

Enjoy!

Romantic Matchups; Marvel, DC, X-Men, and Once Upon A Time

(Matchup Exchange)

~~~

Romantic;

~~~

Marvel;

Steve Rogers -

You and Steve first met after you were recruited to the Avengers, your skills and sharp intellect making you an invaluable asset to the team.

You were the one who came up with innovative field tactics, analyzed enemy movements in real time, and provided the team with strategies that turned the tide in battle.

Whether it was your background in chemistry, medicine, or just your sharp mind, Steve quickly noticed how essential you were - not just to missions, but to the team's morale.

He was drawn to your sense of humor right away.

You had a way of making the team laugh with your dry, quick wit, sometimes catching him of guard with a clever remark that made him smirk or grin before he even realized it.

Your mutual love for history sparked long conversations - what started as causal chats about historical figures turned into late-night talks about philosophy, ethics, and the way the world has changed from his time to the current.

You were one of the few people who could keep up with Steve in a discussion about past events and the morals behind them, and he found himself fascinated by your perspective.

And your curiosity regarding his time in the 1940s.

There was also something about your perfectionist tendencies that struck a chord with him.

He saw how hard you pushed yourself, how you held yourself to impossibly high started, and he recognized that struggle all too well.

He admired your dedication, but he also saw the way it could wear you down.

Even before the two of you were close, he found himself stepping in when he saw you overworking, offering small words of encouragement or a quiet reminder that you were already doing more than enough.

You and Steve became fast friends, though it took some time for you to open up fully.

he was patient with you, never pushing, just offering a steady presence that you found yourself drawn to.

He was one of the few people who didn't mind when you rambled about history, folklore, or a particularly intricate D&D campaign you were running.

He actually enjoyed listening - your enthusiasm was infectious, and even if he didn't fully understand some of the niche topics, he loved seeing your face light up as you spoke.

You often found yourself sparring together.

Steve took the time to help refine your combat techniques, offering pointers and advice in his usual calm and supportive manner.

He was always mindful of your sensory processing struggles, making sure to adjust his approach if he saw you getting overstimulated.

He won't push you to continue your training, because he is a gentleman, obviously, so if you need a break, he's all for it.

And when training was over, he was the first to suggest a well-earned break, sometimes leading you to an empty balcony where you could both unwind and enjoy the warm summer air breezing by you.

Your shared love for vintage music and aesthetics made for some unexpectedly fun moments.

Steve was endlessly charmed by your "girl reporter" style, always giving you that soft, appreciative once-over whenever you stepped into the room in a vintage-inspired outfit.

It kind of reminds him of home, actually. It's comforting.)

For a while, neither of you acknowledged the growing tension between you.

You were awkward with emotions, deflecting with humor whenever something got a bit too real, and Steve was nothing if not patient.

As said before.

He noticed the way you got a bit flustered when he complimented you, how you'd fumble slightly before brushing it off with a joke.

But he also noticed the way you looked at him when you thought he wasn't paying attention - they way your gaze softened, the way your fingers twitched like you wanted to reach out for him.

Steve fell for you in stages.

It was in the quiet moments - when you sat beside him after a long mission, your head resting against his shoulder without a second thought.

It was in the way you always saved a seat for him at team dinners, how you instinctively sought him out in a crowded room.

It was in your stubbornness, your fire, the way you never let him brood for too long without pulling him back into the moment with a sharp remark or a playful jab.

For you, the realization hit all at once.

Maybe it was the way he always managed to steady you when you were feeling overwhelmed, or the way he somehow understood when you needed space and when you needed someone to anchor you.

Maybe it was the way he looked at you - with those pretty blue eyes of his - they would soften only for you.

It wasn't a grand, dramatic moment.

It wasn't even planned.

You were both caught in the aftermath of a particularly rough mission, adrenaline still buzzing through your veins.

You had a few scrapes, but Steve had taken the brunt of a hit that was meant for you, and that fact alone had your hands shaking as you helped bandage him up in the med bay.

He honestly insisted against you patching him up, he had a fast healing factor, but you insisted right back.

He let you fix him up.

"Y'know," You muttered, trying to keep your voice steady, "For a guy with a super-soldier body, you're really bad at dodging."

Steve huffed a quiet laugh, "Couldn't let you take that hit."

You swallowed hard, unable to meet his eyes. "You don't have to do that."

"Yes, I do," He said softly, "And I'd do it again." Something about the way he said it - so quiet, so sure - made your chest tighten. He continued, "I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you." Steve reached for your hand, threading his fingers through yours.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding. His gaze was steady, warm, filled with something - a look - that made it hard to breathe.

"I mean it," Steve murmured, "You're... You mean a lot to me. And- And if you'll have me-"

"Yes." The word came out faster than you intended, voice soft, breathless.

Then, there it was, that beautiful, flawless smile of his.

Once you were together, everything felt so natural, like it had been leading up to this the whole time.

Steve was endlessly patient with you - and I can't say this enough, it seems - never pushing you to be vulnerable before you were ready, but always making sure you knew he was there.

He was the kind of boyfriend who showed his love through actions - acts of service.

He'd bring you coffee or tea when you were buried in work, he'd bring you breakfast in bed whenever he could, he'd let you curl up against him after a long day without expecting you to say anything.

You both had your little traditions.

Slow-dancing in the kitchen to old jazz and classical records, even when you stepped on his feet occasionally.

Weekend trips to hidden bookstores where you'd excitedly rant about your latest finds, and he'd just smile, watching you with quiet adoration.

Actually, the bookstore was one of the places that you and Steve would frequent the most for little dates.

Many hours were spent sitting the the deep depths of the bookstore, sitting on the floor, leaning against the shelves, quietly reading together.

Nights were spent stargazing, where he'd tell you stories from his past, and you'd share your own in return.

Steve adored your cats, even if they didn't fully trust him at first.

He had infinite patience for their slow acceptance, letting them sniff him out and eventually curl up beside him.

It wasn't long before they started waiting by the door for him just as much as they did for you.

He would spoil them, by the way.

You'd lie together on the couch, your head on his chest, while he read aloud to you in that steady, soothing voice of his.

The city was always quieter at night, and he loved taking you on peaceful strolls, his fingers laced with yours.

Whenever you struggled to sleep, he'd stay up with you, talking softly about anything and everything until you drifted back to sleep.

He would make sure you don't overwork yourself, gently pulling you away from your books or laptop when you've been at it for too long.

"Just give me twenty more minutes."

"You said that twenty minutes ago, doll, it's time for a break. We can watch a movie if you like."

He would learn about your sensory sensitivities so he can help you when things get overwhelming.

He would make sure the subtitles are always on for you.

He would write little notes and leave them for you to find, always with something encouraging or sweet inside.

He would always save a dance or two for you at every formal event Tony would start up.

Not the biggest with nicknames, but a few he would use are "doll," "honey," and "sweetheart."

Whether it was singing, D&D, or cosplay, Steve would be your biggest cheerleader.

For holidays or birthdays, he'd gift you vintage items that go along with your aesthetic that were red.

You helped him adjust to modern trends, but never forced him to change - you just gently introduced him to things you know he'd enjoy.

Even though you didn't need to, you would fix his hair before missions.

You and the rest of the team would meet up on the jet, ready to head off to fight, and you'd lean up, brushing your fingers through his hair, making it neat.

Even though it didn't need to be done, Steve appreciated how you wanted to take care of him.

You would hold his hand under the table during annoyingly long debriefings, silent support.

You also made it your mission to show Steve ren faires.

For all his strength, Steve carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

You reminded him that he deserved to be taken care of too.

You also reminded him, every single day, that he was loved and that he was enough.

~~~

DC;

Clark Kent -

Could be seen as any Clark, honestly.

You and Clark first met at The Daily Planet, where you were the newest addition to the investigative reporting team.

Your vintage-inspired wardrobe and sharp, inquisitive mind caught Clark's attention immediately.

It wasn't just your style - though he secretly adored the bold red lipstick - it was the way you carried yourself, the fire in your eyes whenever you tackled a lead, and your razor-sharp wit that kept even seasoned journalists on their toes.

Clark found himself gravitating toward you, drawn in by the way you could effortlessly switch from excitedly rambling about a lead to fiercely debating the ethical implications of journalism over coffee in the break room.

You, in turn, found Clark... Interesting.

Not just in a "Wow, he's tall and built like a Greek statue" way, (though, yes, that was also true), but in how utterly kind he was.

In an industry full of jaded reporters, Clark was an anomaly - genuine, humble, and always willing to help, whether it was carrying stacks of files or lending his own notes for your research.

At first, you assumed he was just nice in that country boy Midwest kind of way, but after a while, you started noticing little things - how he always made sure to refill your coffee when you were too absorbed in words to notice your cup was empty, how he never laughed or seemed irritated when you trailed off mid-rant only to start up again five minutes later, and how, whenever you were out on dangerous assignments, he always made sure to be your partner for it.

Your friendship with Clark was effortless, built on mutual admiration and easy banter.

You both had an insatiable thirst for knowledge, though your approaches were wildly different - you, fast-talking, passionate, and prone to info-dumping; Clark, quiet, thoughtful, always giving you his full attention no matter how much you rambled.

Clark found your hyperfixations adorable.

He'd ask you questions about history or folklore just to see your eyes light up and hear you go off on an excited tangent.

If he ever noticed you getting self-conscious about talking too much, he'd gently reassure you.

"I love hearing you talk about things you care about. Don't stop on my account."

You'd drag Clark along to every museum, historical reenactment, and ren faires you could.

And though he wasn't nearly as obsessed as you were, he loved watching you geek out over a well-made period costume or historical artifact.

Ad when you complained about your lack of time for cosplay or costuming, Clark would casually surprise you with custom-made pieces from "a friend who sews".

Spoiler: it was definitely him.

His Mama Martha totally taught him how to sew.

Your shared love for classic literature also became a cornerstone of your friendship.

You'd trade books back and forth, arguing over the best adaptions.

Whenever you caught Clark rereading "Pride And Prejudice," you'd tease him.

"You're such a Darcy fanboy, Kent."

He doesn't mind the teasing.

And when you were swamped with work or exhausted from your pre-med responsibilities, Clark was always there - bringing you food, forcing you to take breaks, and gently nudging you to rest when you were running yourself to the ground.

Clark knew he was in trouble when he started looking for excuses to be around you.

Volunteering to help you with investigative pieces, lingering by your desk, getting irrationally flustered whenever you playfully fixed his tie before interviews.

For you, the realization hit slower.

You knew you admired Clark, that you cared about him more than you probably should, but love?

That was harder to admit.

You weren't used to being vulnerable, and the very thought of confessing made your stomach twist.

You deflected with humor, laughed off the tension, but every time Clark gave you that soft, earnest look...

That one that made you feel so seen...

You felt your resolve cracking.

And then there were the little things.

The way Clark always stood between you and a busy street, the way his touch lingered just a second too long when he passed you a file, the way he always seemed to know when you needed someone to remind you that you were enough, even when you didn't believe in it yourself.

It happened late one evening, long after everyone else had gone home.

You were both working on a big expose, poring over notes, when you sighed, rubbing your temples.

"I swear, if I have to look at one more redacted document, I'm gonna-"

"Go on a dramatic rant about government corruption?" Clark teased lightly, a fond smile on his face.

"You know me so well," You smirked, but your heart pounded when you caught the way he was looking at you.

There was something different in his gaze - something softer, more intense.

He hesitated for a moment, then, he spoke, "I do, you know."

"Do what?"

"Know you... Well, I like to think I do..." His voice wavered ever so slightly, it was almost unnoticeable, but what wasn't was how tightly clenched his hands were. "And I- care about you. More than I probably should, co-worker-wise."

You froze.

Your brain short-circuited.

Clark Kent, the golden boy, the sweetheart, the nicest guy you'd ever met, was looking at you like you were the most important person in the world.

You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but Clark reached for your hand, grounding you, "You don't have to say anything. I just... I needed you to know."

For once, you didn't deflect.

You squeezed his hand, voice soft, "I care about you too, Clark."

Dating Clark Kent was like breathing fresh air.

Warm, steady, grounding.

He was the kind of boyfriend who made you feel safe in ways you didn't even realize you needed.

(I mean, he's Superman, but you don't know that yet...)

He adored your cats.

You caught him once, dead asleep on your couch, with your two Siamese curled up on his chest.

You took so many photos.

Clark always made sure you had your favorite coffee or tea in the morning, especially when you were too sleep-deprived to function.

Or needed coffee or tea in the morning to function.

(That's me.)

He loved it when you wore red.

You both went on mystery-solving dates - you know, like those mystery dinners people hold for events.

You both give each other massages.

Clark made you laugh, really laugh.

Sometimes, when you couldn't sleep, Clark would hold you close, whispering soft reassurances against your hair.

Clark loved you for you - for your brilliance, your passion, and your fire.

~~~

X-Men;

Scott Summers -

Again, imagine any Scott you wish.

You first met Scott Summers at Xavier's School For Gifted Youngsters.

As a fellow mutant, you were training to perfect your powers while also juggling missions and trying to live a semi-normal life.

You were always busy, either volunteering at the school's clinic or practicing your combat skills.

Scott noticed early no - partially because of your bold, vintage-inspired style that made you stand out in the halls, but mostly because of your sharp wit and no-nonsense attitude.

At first, Scott was a bit taken aback by how direct you could be, especially when it came to your passions.

You had no problem calling people out when necessary, and he quickly learned that you were more than willing to argue your points in a debate.

He found it... Kind of refreshing.

While many people tiptoed around him because of his leadership position, you treated him like any other teammate.

If anything, you were more critical of him than most, especially when you thought he was being too harsh on himself.

Scott, ever the disciplined and controlled person, found your expressiveness fascinating.

He admired how deeply you cared about everything you did.

He also noticed that despite your social awkwardness, you had a way of drawing people in when you started talking about something you loved.

It wasn't long before he started looking forward to hearing your lastest hyperfixtion.

Despite your differences, you and Scott naturally fell into an easy friendship,

He respected your work ethic and often found himself drawn to the moments where you let yourself be passionate and excited about your work.

He liked listening to you talk about history, theater, and all the nerdy things you adored, even if half the time he didn't know what you were talking about.

Your words and rants made him want to know.

One time, you went on a twenty-minute tangent about "The Scarlet Pimpernel," and he just sat there, absorbing your excitement more than the actual details.

Scott, being the protective type, started looking out for you in small ways.

He knew how much you took on between school, missions, and volunteering, so he'd make sure you remembered to eat, rest, and take breaks.

Sometimes, he'd "casually" bring you a coffee or a snack, acting as if he just so happened to have an extra.

He'd make sure the snack was something that you loved nothing that you had struggles eating because of texture or taste.

Other times, when he noticed you struggling to wind down, he'd invite you to take a walk outside.

Those little gestures didn't go unnoticed.

For your part, you helped Scott let loose a little.

You weren't afraid to tease him, calling him out whenever he got too broody.

You'd playfully mess with his serious demeanor, nudging him to have a little bit more fun.

When you found out he had a good sense of humor, (dry, with a hidden playful side), it became your mission to get him to crack a smile more often.

You also never shied away from calling him out when he was being too hard on himself.

If he was going to make you take breaks and rest, than you were going to do the same for him.

One of your shared activities became late-night talks.

With your insomnia and his contact overthinking, it wasn't uncommon for you to both be aware at odd hours.

You'd meet in the kitchen or the common room, talking about everything from past missions to existential questions about life and mutantkind.

Somewhere along the way, those moments became something you both relied on.

Scott was the first to realize he had feelings for you.

It hit him one day when he was watching you excited ramble about a theater production you wanted to see.

The way your eyes lit up, the way you used your hands to emphasize every detail - he was completely entranced.

He found himself thinking about you constantly, noticing little things...

How you absentmindedly tapped your fingers when you were deep in thought how you always had a knowing look when he tried to deflect with sarcasm.

For you, realizing your feelings took a little longer.

You weren't used to romance, and you had a habit of deflecting with humor whenever you felt too vulnerable.

But the more time you spent with him, the more you found yourself seeking out his presence.

You felt safe with him in a way you hadn't expected.

He didn't just tolerate your quirks - he seemed to genuinely appreciate them.

Things came to a head after a particularly dangerous mission.

He had gotten hurt - not badly, but enough to scare you.

When you found him in the med bay later, you stood there, tense, before finally blurting out, “Do you have any idea how worried I was?”

Your voice was tight with emotion.

That was the moment you knew.

You really, really, really liked him.

Scott wasn’t great at being emotionally vulnerable either, but he knew he had to be direct with you.

One night, after one of your late-night talks, he hesitated before saying, “I care about you. A lot more than just as a friend.”

It was simple, but the sincerity in his voice made your heart race.

You, of course, immediately turned into a flustered mess.

“I care about you too. A lot.”

He smiled - a real, soft, Scott Summers smile - and that was that.

Scott is the king of acts of service.

He’ll bring you coffee during long study sessions, carry your books without you asking, and make sure you’re taking care of yourself.

You do the same for him, always making sure he’s not overworking himself.

Slow dances when you're cooking or just hanging out.

Scott is subtle about PDA, but he loves holding your hand - whether it’s during a walk around the mansion grounds or when you’re studying together.

He doesn’t get your love for Austen, but he’ll sit beside you while you read, occasionally asking questions just to hear you talk.

He loved it when you read out loud to him.

He’s surprisingly affectionate in private.

If you’re having trouble sleeping, he’ll let you rest your head on his chest while he absentmindedly traces patterns on your arm.

Scott is your biggest supporter.

Whether it’s theatre, cosplay, or history, he’ll listen, help, and even join in if it makes you happy.

He worries about you but knows you can handle yourself.

He just makes sure you always have someone watching your back.

Over time, you develop a ton of inside jokes.

He loves that he can be himself around you.

Scott understands your perfectionism, your stubbornness, and your struggles with vulnerability.

And he never makes you feel bad for it.

Since he struggled with that too.

Scott Summers isn’t an easy man to love - he carries a lot on his shoulders.

But with you, he finds something rare: a partnership built on mutual understanding, trust, and deep affection.

You challenge him in the best ways, and he makes you feel truly seen.

Through late-night talks, quiet support, and shared laughter, you both find a love that’s steady, strong, and undeniably real.

~~~

Once Upon A Time;

Killian Jones -

Killian Jones first meets you under less-than-ideal circumstances - perhaps you were investigating something that led you directly into his path.

In Storybrooke, you’d likely be working as a detective, using your sharp intellect and near-obsessive attention to detail to solve cases others overlook.

Holmes.

Yes, that was your last name.

And the name of your detective agency; The Crimson Holmes Detective Agency.

You have a reputation for being intimidatingly brilliant, a master of deduction with an uncanny ability to read people like an open book.

When Killian arrives in town, whether it’s during his initial revenge-seeking days or later when he’s working with the heroes, he instantly recognizes that you’re unlike anyone he’s ever met.

"Ah, love, you’ve got quite the sharp tongue on you, don’t you?"

He smirks, watching as you effortlessly unravel the latest town mystery while simultaneously critiquing his lack of subtlety.

But you see past his flirtatious bravado, straight to the deep sorrow, loyalty, and buried goodness in him - and that terrifies him.

You’re the only one who can see through his carefully crafted pirate persona, and it frustrates and intrigues him all at once.

You match his wit blow for blow, which both annoys and thrills him.

“You try far too hard to convince people you’re nothing but a roguish pirate,” You remark one day, eyes twinkling. “It would be more effective if you weren’t so painfully obvious about caring.”

He pretends not to be affected, but you’re in his head from that moment on.

Your friendship starts off as a battle of wits and stubbornness.

You both have a natural inclination toward independence and control, so neither of you is quick to admit when you actually enjoy spending time together.

Killian tries to ruffle your feathers with flirtatious remarks, but you deadpan your way through them effortlessly, often leaving him flustered instead.

However, over time, he starts to respect you deeply.

He admires the way your mind works, the relentless way you seek the truth, and how you push yourself to your limits, even when you probably shouldn’t.

Despite being a pirate, he is incredibly protective of you, even though he knows you can hold your own.

He doesn't hover or patronize you - but he watches your back in a way that’s both subtle and deeply reassuring.

"Not that you need my help, love," He says casually, stepping up beside you in a tense moment, "But let’s just say I’d rather not see what would happen if you took a blade to the gut."

Together, you’re a formidable team - him with his sword and instincts, you with your keen mind and razor-sharp deductions.

He enjoys watching you work, marveling at the way you piece things together before anyone else has a clue.

The shift from friendship to romance is agonizingly slow and filled with delicious tension.

You’re both stubborn, sarcastic, and avoidant when it comes to your own feelings.

You deflect with humor, while he hides behind his usual roguish charm.

Neither of you wants to admit what’s painfully obvious to everyone else.

Killian adores your mind, and he often finds himself mesmerized by the way you talk - even when you’re rambling about something completely obscure.

He listens, really listens, because he loves the way your eyes light up when you talk about something you’re passionate about.

There are moments that shake him, though - like when you’re injured on a case, and he abandons all pretense, his voice raw with worry.

Or when he catches you softly singing to yourself, completely unguarded, and something deep in his chest tightens.

And then there’s the way you lean into his touch without thinking, trusting him implicitly.

The way he always finds himself reaching for your hand when he’s nervous or uncertain.

The realization hits him like a tidal wave one day: he’s fallen for you, completely and irreversibly.

Killian’s confession isn’t grand or dramatic - it’s intensely personal and heartfelt.

Maybe it’s after a close call, or maybe he just can’t take pretending anymore.

Either way, it’s one of the few times you see him completely vulnerable.

"You terrify me, love," He admits one evening, voice low. “Not because of your mind - though let’s be honest, that’s enough to make any man feel completely inadequate. But because I never thought I’d meet someone who could see me so clearly... And still stay.”

You’re stunned.

And for once, you are the one fumbling over your words.

But when you finally find your voice, your response is simple: "I was never going anywhere, Killian."

Being with Killian is an adventure in every sense of the word.

He is devoted, protective, and wildly romantic.

He writes you love letters in old-fashioned calligraphy, leaving them for you to find when you least expect them.

He adores your vintage aesthetic, often comparing you to the heroines of classic novels.

"Red suits you, love," He murmurs, brushing his fingers over the fabric of your favorite outfit. "Then again, I suspect you’d make any color look divine."

He takes you on moonlit sails, where the only sound is the waves against the hull and his soft voice murmuring stories of the stars.

At home, he cooks for you, using whatever ingredients he can find, often resulting in chaotic yet endearing meals.

He steals kisses when you least expect it - while you’re deep in thought, while you’re trying to work, just to see that rare, flustered look on your face.

You, in turn, surprise him constantly.

With small, meaningful, gentle acts of service that show how much you care, even when words fail you.

He adores your cats, often talking to them, “Well, mates, looks like I’ve got some competition for her heart,” He jokes, scratching behind their ears.

When he noticed that you’re stressed, he might take over one of your tasks for the day, running errands or cooking you dinner without you asking - though he won’t make a big fuss about it.

He’d also keep your personal boundaries in mind, especially with your sensory processing disorder.

Knowing how much you dislike loud, overwhelming spaces, Killian would always be the first to suggest quieter places for dates or getaways.

Whether it’s a cozy cottage by the water or a quiet spot in the forest, he’d make sure you feel at ease, taking care to keep your environment calm.

He wouldn't be pushy, and if you ever needed some space to recharge, he’d be completely understanding, always there when you’re ready but never pressure you.

On your end, you show your love through small gestures, acts of service, and quality time.

With your busy schedule, Killian knows how hard it is for you to slow down, so you make it a point to ensure he knows just how much he means to you.

You’d also keep him grounded when his past weighs heavily on him.

You understand the complexity of people, especially when they’ve lived through darkness and come out the other side.

You’re not afraid to remind him of the goodness within him and would encourage him to confront his inner demons without shame.

When things get tough, you’d give him a gentle but honest pep talk, and he’d appreciate how you never sugarcoat things but always manage to keep him grounded.

Killian makes you feel cherished, in a way no one else ever has.

And in return, you give him something he never thought he’d have again - a reason to believe in love.

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