boyfriend!gregory who, no matter how much willpower he uses, can’t stop drawing you. You’ve become the person who fills his sketchbook—your face, your hands, your silhouette—captured even in the most mundane settings. He’s never cared much about who sees his art, yet for some reason, his heart sped up the first time you leaned over his shoulder to take a look at what he was working on.
boyfriend!gregory who was, at first, far too shy to hold your hand or even walk beside you. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he simply wasn’t used to that kind of closeness. He didn’t know how to express the whirlwind of thoughts in his head, so he did it the only way he knew how: through his art.
boyfriend!gregory who’s quietly possessive. No one is immune to jealousy and, if there’s something that truly gets to him, it’s hearing people around him make unpleasant or suggestive comments about you. It only takes him standing beside you—closer than usual—or one of those heavy stares that say far more than words ever could.
boyfriend!gregory who lets you help with his makeup. He’s perfectly capable of doing it himself, but he’d rather feel your fingers brushing against his skin and watch the way your lips part slightly in concentration. And even though he still feels a bit intimidated being that close to you, he has to use every bit of his self-control not to ruin his freshly painted black lips.
jealous!violet who at first doesn't seem like the type of person who gets jealous. In fact, he'd always been quiet, lost in his own world that only you could enter, so for a second you thought jealousy wasn't really in his vocabulary. It wasn't until shortly after that you discovered you were completely wrong.
jealous!violet who notices when someone approaches you with ulterior motives. Violet is observant, so when she notices someone's gaze, the way they get too close, or the way someone tries to touch you too much, even if you don't notice.
jealous!violet who always stays close. He's not the type of person who needs everyone to know you're his girlfriend or tries to make it obvious; his mere presence by your side was enough. He didn't need to jump into every conversation or try to socialize because it simply wasn't something he was interested in; being by your side seemed sufficient to him.
jealous!violet who never gets upset with you. He trusts you, he knows that when a situation like this happens it's not your fault, after all, you've never given him any reason to doubt you; never changed his attitude towards you, much less acted distant. However, trusting his girlfriend is completely different from trusting othersespecially if those people weren't usually very discreet.
jealous!violet who isn't loud. Violet's jealousy isn't explosive, much less something that's too noticeable. However, you know him too well to tell when something is bothering him because of the way he looks at someone else or the way he gets slightly closer to you than usual.
jealous!violet who has small possessive gestures towards you. Although he never admitted it, there are small things he does that make you realize that in moments of slight jealousy he continues to seek you out, such as touching your hand or sliding closer to you. even if he continues to refuse to say it out loud.
you help him with his makeup ☆ gregory violet x fem!reader • weston co-ed college AU
Seeing Violet without makeup for the first time had surprised you in a positive way. You'd always felt his gaze was too intense, but without that dark eyeliner, it was surprisingly soft.
The first time you asked if you could help him, he didn't refuse. You could feel your hand trembling slightly every time you got close to his face. You'd tried to keep a safe distance between you, otherwise you'd end up a nervous wreck. That had been at the beginning of your relationship; now you were confident enough to even gently take his jaw to keep him still.
And even though he didn't say it out loud, he was confident enough to lie to you and pretend he needed help.
You'd noticed it one morning when you'd slipped very carefully into the boys' dormitories in the purple house. Usually, the two dormitories were at completely opposite ends, which made perfect sense. But now you had to be more careful than usual. No one believed you whenever you said you had to do something Prefect Violet had asked you to do. Sometimes you missed the days when your relationship was nothing more than a secret between you two.
"Violet?" You stepped into his dormitory, glancing both ways down the hallway before closing the door behind you. To your surprise, he didn't take long to appear. He was wearing his uniform and… of course, he still needed to do his makeup.
"You arrived early."
"I was here as usual," you defended yourself, moving closer to him. Violet's kind of affection certainly wasn't physical contact, but yours was, so he never complained when you kissed his cheek as a greeting. Just like these moments. You felt his hands encircle your waist for a few seconds before finally letting go. You sank down onto his bed, wiggling your toes. "You're not wearing makeup."
He shook his head, heading to the bathroom. You heard him move a few things before coming back out. "Will you help me?" he asked, sitting down next to you. "I'm still sleepy." That was a clear lie because your boyfriend was the worst liar, at least in your eyes. Anyone else wouldn't be able to tell the difference between his usual expression and the one he had when he was lying, but that wasn't the case with you.
You picked up the makeup, moving closer to him, close enough to almost feel his breath on your face. "But don't move too much," you murmured, knowing he could stay as still as a statue.
You began applying the makeup with utmost care, your lips slightly parted, something you did unconsciously to try and concentrate better—even though it was completely unrelated. Violet's gaze was fixed on you, though he knew you didn't notice because of your intense concentration. He began to take in every detail of your face.
The way you parted your lips slightly, the small lines under your eyes from staying up late studying the last few days. How you squinted just a few centimeters, and the slight wrinkle that formed on your forehead every time you frowned, as if it helped you concentrate. And then his eyes flicked to your lips, for just a second. They always ended up smudged with black from his makeup, and you never complained. You'd changed your lip gloss because the old one always made everything worse, and he couldn't help but wonder if it was possible to skip the first class just to kiss you.
"Look up," you murmured, pulling him out of that bubble, and he obeyed instantly, fixing his gaze on the ceiling just as you'd instructed him the first time you'd helped him with his makeup.
You were so engrossed that you barely had time to react when you felt his hands around you again, as if he were catching you to prevent you from falling, even though you weren't in any danger. Damn it, if you adjusted yourself enough you could sit on his lap; maybe you would next time.
"Don't move," you whispered, pretending the words were for him, but perhaps they were for yourself, as his touch had made you tense slightly.
You lingered longer than you should have because you didn't want to move away from him. You liked that closeness too much and wanted to prolong it as long as possible, even though it was getting late and you couldn't be late again.
"It's ready, just the lipstick and…" You looked down to pick it up, but you felt Violet's fingers on your jaw, forcing you to look up again. You didn't have time to ask what he was doing because you felt his lips crash against yours. It was barely a second, a quick kiss like the ones you give someone when you know there will be more. That rush of sensations exploded inside you, like every time you remembered you could kiss him whenever you wanted and not just watch him from the back of the classroom like two years ago.
You noticed some of your lip gloss had gotten on his lips, but he didn't make a move to wipe it off.
"We're going to be late for class," he said before getting up without warning. You knew you'd frozen because you felt incapable of moving your legs or doing anything else. He always did the same thing, every morning, and you always had the same reaction no matter how many times you'd already kissed him. And you didn't think you'd ever be able to act normally.
That day he'd worn his usual black lipstick, but this time with a different touch of gloss.
