Simon never admits it out loud, but the first time he saw your baby’s rolls (tiny wrists swallowed by baby pudge, cheeks like little dumplings, thighs that looked like fresh-baked bread loaves), he melted.
He swears you must’ve overfed the little one, but he’s the first one sneaking extra bottles or letting baby gnaw on a biscuit when you aren’t looking.
Baby’s favorite nap spot? Right on Simon’s chest. That soft rumble of his breathing and big warm hands cupping their back, baby’s out cold in seconds.
When the baby coos and smacks those chubby hands against his mask, Simon just mutters, “Yeah, alright then…” and lets them tug it halfway up so they can gnaw on his chin stubble.
Your chunky baby loves airplane rides. Simon lifts them up with zero effort, those rolls bouncing while he says in the softest Mancunian tone: “Look at you, eh? Little bloody blimp.”
He secretly LOVES bath time. Watching the baby’s rolls squish and float while they giggle? It’s the only time you see Simon grinning like a fool.
When he’s away on mission, he asks for pictures, not just of the baby, but specifically ones that show the cheeks or belly sticking out. He misses holding that weight against him.
And you’ll catch him, one evening, shirt off, baby sprawled across his chest, both snoring. And for once, Simon Riley looks at peace.
Our town was never meant to be desired… It was not touristic, not loud, not blessed with spectacle. It was the kind of place old couples chose when they were tired of wanting more;a town people arrived at only after they had already lived. Young adults were rare here; they left as soon as they learned the roads could take them elsewhere. It was understood, almost like a rule passed down quietly: if you were born here and decided to stay, you would also die here , surrounded by the same faces, under the same sky, beside the same green field where you had wasted and worshiped all your free time. And we had plenty of it.
These very criteria convinced me I had been born in the perfect place, at the perfect time.
All I had ever wanted was a slow life ; one without surprises, without urgency, without the constant threat of change. I romanticized every unhurried morning, every dinner built patiently from local ingredients, every solitary picnic by the lake, every predictable family gathering that ended the same way it began. I believed stillness was a virtue, that repetition was a form of peace.
That belief survived…until I met him.
He arrived like fate that had taken the long way around, as though the world had bent itself patiently just to cross our paths. He once said , half-smiling, half-serious, that we were meant to find each other here, meant to share this quiet boredom together, meant to live gently until we were buried under the same ground. At the time, I believed him without resistance.
He was pale and quiet, always dressed in neat, careful pieces, almost angelic in their precision. Even his smile was restrained—soft, distant—like sunlight that feels unsettling because it is too white, too clean, as if a blinding ray slipped from behind him without warning. His long hair was tied into a tidy man bun. I had always hated long hair on men ,how it often looked greasy, careless, almost indecent. His wasn’t. It was silky, luminous, healthier than my own, and I hated myself for noticing.
That was how I saw him the first time.
And that was the commentary running through my head as it happened.
Given the size of the place I lived in; where everyone knew everyone, or at least knew of them ,I concluded almost immediately that he was not from here. The heavy bag slung over his back confirmed it. So did the way he entered the café.
It was the only coffee corner in town that tried to be something more than functional ,subtle lighting, mismatched chairs, an ambition toward aesthetics that felt almost rebellious. I was standing at the counter, struggling to decide on an order I had already memorized, when he walked in. Not just I noticed him , everyone did. Silence shifts when a stranger enters a place like that.
He stood behind me in line.
There were only two of us.
So I made a quick decision and moved to an empty table upon making my order , pretending to mind my own business while the question in my head kept colliding with invisible walls: what was a man that young doing here, in a town this dormant? By the time both our orders were ready, he took his cup and left the café. I brushed the thought away with deliberate effort and returned to my journal, as words pinned my curiosity down and kept it from wandering.
The day slipped past without ceremony. By nightfall, I was already preparing myself for the coming week, for Monday, for routine. Even in a town this small, life still moved: schools opened their gates, shops lifted their shutters, children ran through streets that never learned new names. Most people here owned small farms, living off what the land agreed to give them, selling organic produce either to nearby cities or directly from their own hands. That was how my family lived too. Because of it, I was spared the weight of money, the kinda weight that dictates decisions, compresses dreams. I had the privilege of choosing exactly how I wanted to exist.
I chose quiet.
I lived alone in a small house with a modest front yard, and a few blocks away was there , my pride: a tiny library and restoration studio. I didn’t only sell new books. I repaired what time tried to erase. Paper, glue, broken spines, softened corners , the smell alone felt sacred.
Clients came always with intention: libraries, collectors, people who loved old letters too much to let them decay. The work was solitary, meticulous, and deeply meditative. Exactly the kind of life I had imagined for myself , selling normal books here and there and repairing some from time to time .
I knew that by morning I would have visitors ; teenagers after school, old people during the day, all asking for some forgotten, boring title they half-remembered.
I did not expect him.
I had almost forgotten the stranger from the café when he appeared in front of me instead of an old man asking for a manual or a farming guide. The bell above the door rang softly as he entered. His resting face looked as if it was already smiling. His steps were slow, deliberate. He shone again , as if light poured from him rather than onto him.
Once more, I pretended to be occupied.
He wandered briefly through the shelves before returning to the counter, holding a small guidebook; a map of the town. One I had forgotten I even stocked. When I finally looked at him, properly, for the first time, our eyes met.
They were… shaded. Not dark ; guarded.
I smiled as he handed me the book.
“New here?” I asked. “Visiting someone?”
“Sort of,” he replied. “I guess I look out of place. Everyone keeps asking me the same thing.”
He spoke with the same soft, almost suspicious smile, reaching for his wallet.
“No need,” I said, gently pushing the map back. “Consider it a welcome gift. I hope it helps.”
Something in his gaze shifted then. The guarded look dissolved into something genuine ,soft, unguarded. He thanked me and left, the bell echoing behind him like a thought that refused to fade.
After that, he vanished.
For the rest of the week, I didn’t see him once. I only heard of him through old women whispering on sidewalks, He had a house nearby, they said. A truck had arrived with furniture. He was staying. Maybe even moving in.
Yet I dismissed the thought. No one our age chose a place like this.
The following Monday arrived too quickly, days were repetitive on this side of the world . I was reorganizing shelves, the radio murmuring in the background, when the bell rang again. I carefully set the books down and walked to the counter.
He was there.
Standing as if he knew I would be.
There was a certainty about him that unsettled me , as if he had won an argument that had never been spoken. The same soft smile rested on his lips, still mismatched with his eyes. In his hand was a small basket, filled with chocolate cookies.
Before I could speak, he slid it gently toward me.
“A small thank you for the map,” he said. “It helped more than I expected.”
I murmured my thanks, but he continued before the moment could settle.
“If you’re free this weekend,” he said, “maybe I could take you for a coffee. You don’t have to answer now. I’ll come back later…give you time to think.”
And then he was gone.
All I could hear was the bell again, ringing too loudly in my ears.
I had seen it coming, to be honest. In a town like this, his options were limited. Excluding the possibility of a girl waiting somewhere where he came from, beyond these fields , which I assumed existed , it was only a matter of time before he ended up with one of us. That’s what the old ladies whispered anyway. He was their newest fascination. a Hot topic , in every sense of the word.
But I had excluded myself entirely.
After all, I hadn’t seen him since the day of the map. I assumed that whatever quiet list he had made in his mind, I had already been crossed off , forgotten as easily as a stranger passing through.
And yet, something about the way he looked at me suggested otherwise
By then, I was somehow certain we would not remain just two random people inhabiting the same town.
That week stretched longer than it had any right to. Not just for me but for my friends too. They knew who he was by then; they had crossed paths with him once or twice, enough to confirm he was real and not something my imagination had quietly manufactured. The three of us began meeting more often, small reunions disguised as casual evenings, where we constructed theories and possibilities for scenarios that never actually unfolded. By midweek, we had reached a collective agreement: he deserved a chance. For the team, we said , so we could all get to know the outsider who had wandered into our small, sealed land and for the plot since it was way too peaceful here .
Looking back, we were little more than an updated version of the old ladies who had dissected him days earlier. The only difference was proximity. They watched and commented from a distance; we felt almost involved, as if curiosity alone granted us some claim over him after his interaction with me .
Every evening, we gathered at one another’s houses. A DVD played on the television, long forgotten, its flickering light merely an excuse for background noise. Conversation always drifted back to him. And yet, despite the attention we paid him in absence, he never appeared. Not once. Not in the streets, not near the café, not passing by any of us. It was as if he had never existed at all ,as if we were collectively indulging in an elaborate delusion.
Friday arrived.
I was waiting out the final ten minutes before the clock struck seven so I could wrap up the day. My thoughts had already stood me up for a date that never began. Had he hesitated? Regretted it? Forgotten entirely?
The bell rang.
The look on my face must have betrayed everything. He stood there ; the very last minute , and I didn’t even attempt to hide my shock. I was certain he could tell I had been waiting for him all week, that I had thought about him more than I cared to admit.
His eyes were suspicious, as always carrying something sharp, something calculating that never quite matched his face. They suggested a mind working quietly behind the scene, a mastermind hidden backstage. And yet, his soft, innocent smile camouflaged it so perfectly that I almost convinced myself I was the only one who saw it. That perhaps I was overthinking, accusing him of something without evidence.
In the few seconds it took him to approach the counter, I gathered myself. The wood between us felt deliberate, a boundary I was grateful for. I waited for him to speak first, even though we both knew exactly why he was there....
so... i wrote this yesterday cuz i was struggling to find a boring tamsy fic aka my fav type so i decided to write one my self ,not sur eif anyone would read it or be interested but id like to get insights
Disclaimer: Talk about sexual relationship, sexual positions,MDNI
Arkha Corvus
One second everything is controlled,measured breaths, steady pace,
the next
CRACK.
The sound is sharp, violent. The frame gives out completely and you both drop hard.
Arkha freezes mid-motion, blinking once. Twice.
Then he looks at the wreckage beneath you.
“…Huh.”
He exhales a low laugh, rare and dark, bracing himself over you so you don’t hit wrong.
“Didn’t think wood would surrender that fast.”
His forehead rests against yours, voice rough.
“…Guess we went too hard.”
There is zero regret in his eyes.
Enjin
Enjin laughs breathlessly, gripping your waist tighter. Talking dirty in your ear as he fasten the pace.
“Oi! That’s… uh—woah!” he mutters as a loud snap reverberates through the room. The bed shifts alarmingly.
You both hit the floor in a tangle of sheets and limbs.
He bursts out laughing, completely breathless.
“NO WAY—did we just—?”
You both conitnued in the broken bed for another 3 hours. After yall mating season you both jsut stand there......looking at the destroyed bed at like...4 am.
''Hips deadlier than my umbreaker''
Gris Rubion
Gris’s was lost in you. holding your hips up to keep you in one pace. Abotu to cum when the bed gives a warning groan first.
“…Is that normal?” Gris asks quietly.
It answers by collapsing.
You both yelp as the frame buckles and drops, Gris scrambling to shield you instinctively.
“Oh—oh my god—are you okay?”
He’s flustered, panicking, checking you over like the bed personally offended him.
When you start laughing, he finally looks at the wreckage.
“…We broke it,” he whispers.
Face burning red.
“…I didn’t know I was that strong.”
Rudo Serubec (older)
The bed doesn’t just break—it gives up.
A sharp crack, a heavy drop.
Rudo barely reacts, catching himself on instinct, eyes dark as he looks down at you.
“…Tch.”
He exhales slowly, then glances at the splintered wood.
“Should’ve known better than to trust cheap materials.”
There’s a smirk in his voice.
“…You still breathing?”
When you nod, he relaxes slightly.
“Good. Then it was worth it.”
Zanka Nijiku (older)
Zanka freezes mid-motion as the bed groans loudly.
“…Oi… really?” His voice is low and amused, a smirk playing on his lips. “…nahhh.......Enjin's is going to laugh at us....''
He’s propped on one elbow, staring at the wreck like it personally betrayed him.
“…We just killed it.”
Looks back at you, grin wicked.
“…Damn. Guess we’re officially too much.”
He presses closer anyway, ignoring the bed’s protests and cupped your fce in a kiss,the bed isn't the only place you can share love.
Goka Nijiku
“See?” he’d said, voice low, amused. “Told you. Floor’s sturdier than any bed.”
Famous last words.
The futon slides just slightly as the pace picks up, fabric bunching beneath you. The room is quiet except for breath and movement until
CRACK.
Not the soft kind. Not the polite kind.
A sharp, splintering sound echoes beneath you both.
Goka freezes.
“…Wait.”
Another creak follows, deeper this time, like the floor itself is protesting.
He slowly shifts his weight, eyes flicking down, then back to you.
“…Did the floor just-”
CRUNCH.
One of the boards gives in with a dull, ugly snap, dipping under the futon.
There’s a long silence.
Then Goka exhales a stunned laugh, half disbelief, half pride.
“…You’ve got to be kidding me.”
He sits back slightly, staring at the damage like it personally challenged him.
“A futon. On the floor.”
He looks at you, eyes dark, incredulous.
“…We broke the floor.”
No embarrassment. No regret.
Just that low, satisfied grin.
“…Guess I underestimated us.”
Later, when you’re both lying there, staring at the cracked board, he mutters:
“Next time… concrete.”
Tamsy Caines
Tamsy freezes mid-movement as the bed creaks ominously.
“…Huh,” he mutters, brushing a hand over the frame. “…You’re… relentless.”
He leans into you, smirk tugging at his lips. “…Guess we’ll just have to… get creative now.” His fingers linger possessively.
Bro Santa
Bro Santa yelps as the bed creaks and snaps beneath you both.
“...did you hear th-AH!” He freezes, wide-eyed, then bursts into laughter.
He gets off and lifts you up too.
The bed jsut collapse even more by the seconds.
''........lets forget this night''
You are not forgetting this night
Delmon Gates
Delmon’s jaw tightens as the bed groans. It lasted a good 3 seconds after the frame just walked out.
He lands half on you, half tangled in sheets, blinking like he’s assessing battle damage.
''Did....did we broke the bed?-w..WHERE ARE YOU?!'' He asked,looking around.
''DEL! GET OFF ME!''
Follo Tunito
The bed collapses and Follo squeaks.
“WAIT—NO—!”
You land hard and he’s instantly apologizing.
“I swear I didn’t—are you okay? I didn’t mean to—”
When you both realize what happened, he stares at the wreckage.
“…We broke it.”
Soft, stunned.
“…That’s kind of impressive.”
He presses closer, trying to steady himself, fails miserbaly. to flushed to look you in the eye.
August Stiltza
August laughs so hard he loses his rhythm completely.
You both crash down mid-thrust and he SCREAMS LAUGHING.
ÁRRRGGGHHH! THE BED! THE BED!''
He sits up slowly, eyes on the broken frame.
“…So.”
A pause.
“…That happened.”
Proceeds to jump on the matress up and down.
Zodyl Typhon
Zodyl smirks darkly as the bed groans under your weight.
The fall doesn’t even faze him. You hit the floor hard, and he just keeps going, adjusting like nothing happened.
“Well… this just got… interesting,” he murmurs, fingers tightening possessively.
He looked at the bed and than to you ''the night is young...and we have a couch...''
No shame. Only satisfaction.
Jabber Wonger
Jabber bursts into chaotic laughter as the bed snaps loudly.
“…Oi! We just—oh, hell!” His arms wrap around you tighter, trying not to topple.
“HAHA—YO—DID YOU HEAR THAT—?!”
He’s sprawled on the floor, still laughing.
“We DESTROYED IT.”
Looks at you, eyes wild.
“Worth it.”
eventually crashes on you as you both are giggling and trying not to laugh at 3 am in the morning.
He leans closer, face flushed, smirk wide. “…Again! AGAIN!''
Bundus Begalkeit
Bundus stiffens slightly as the bed creaks and cracks.The crack of wood breaking mid-thrust makes him freeze. He looks down at you, blinking like an owl.
“…Hmph,” he mutters, dark eyes glinting. “…i guess......the bed...couldn't contain my horsepower.....”
He leans down, hand sliding possessively over your waist, voice low and commanding. “…..this is new...but i am not complaining...''
You sit on his lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Arkha freezes for exactly one second—then his arm settles around your waist, firm and grounding.
“Comfortable?” he murmurs, voice low, unreadable eyes flicking up to meet yours.
His thumb absently presses into your hip, a subtle claim.
He won’t move you. If anything, he leans back—letting everyone know you’re allowed there.
Enjin
You just plant your cake on his lap. He isnt bothered, he is used to you sitting there as he lights up his cigarette.
His hands are already there, gripping your thighs to steady you.
He tilts his head, grin lazy, eyes bright with amusement.
“Guess I’m stuck like this now.”
Doesn’t complain. Doesn’t ask you to move.
If someone stares too long, he stares back harder.
''Its fine,means i dont have to do paperworks'' He said,grinning.
You're about to stand up
Gris Rubion
You sit down and immediately feel him tense.
''Feeliing the need for attention,ha?''
His hand hovers awkwardly before settling at your lower back, stiff as a board.
Ears pink. Jaw clenched. Absolutely losing his mind internally.
“Don’t—don’t move so much,” he grumbles.
But when you do try to get up later?
His grip tightens. Just a little.
Rudo Serubec (older)
He doesn’t even flinch when you sit on his lap.
Rudo just exhales, tired eyes closing for half a second as his arms come around you.
You feel safe there—like the world can’t touch you.
“…You okay?” he asks quietly.
Not about the lap. About you.
He rests his chin against your shoulder, solid, steady.
If anyone has a problem with it, they can try him.
Zanka Nijiku (older)
“Oh? Oh—OH?”
Zanka blinks, then laughs, loud and unbothered.
“Well damn, guess I’m a chair now!”
Hands on your waist, confident, warm. He sounds annoyed but he is blushing behind you.
He leans forward, grin sharp.
“Careful though. People might get the wrong idea.”
Doesn’t move you.
Absolutely enjoys the idea they will.
Goka Nijiku
The second you sit down, Goka’s arm snaps around you like a seatbelt. It was his free day from the Hell Guards and he was peacefully reading a book about swordmanship when you came plopping your cake on him.
“Tch. You’re reckless,” he mutters.
But there’s a possessive edge to his grip.
He glares at anyone who looks your way, jaw tight.
You can feel his heartbeat under you -> fast, controlled.
“Don’t get up yet,” he says quietly as he reads.
Not a request.
Tamsy Caines
You sit on his lap and feel him smile before you even see it.
“Well now,” he hums, voice smooth, amused.
Hands rest easily on your thighs, too relaxed, too familiar.
“Is this an act of trust… or temptation?”
He leans in close, breath warm near your ear.
Either way, he’s enjoying himself far too much.
Bro Santa
He stiffens like a statue.
“…Ah.”
That’s it. That’s the reaction.
Then, slowly, carefully, one massive hand settles at your back.
He’s blushing. Badly.
“You can… stay,” he says, voice deep and shy.
Protective aura kicks in immediately.
No one is allowed within five feet of you now except dear, who plopped on your lap,so now its a train.
Delmon Gates
You barely touch down before Delmon’s grip locks you in place.
His gaze flicks up, assessing—then approving.
He leans back, one arm draped lazily around you.
“You’re safe here.”
Sounds reassuring.
Sounds like a warning to everyone else.
Follo Tunito
He gasps.
You literally feel him panic.
“H–HEY—?! I mean—are you sure this is—”
He’s flustered, hands hovering like he’s afraid to touch you wrong.
Eventually, he relaxes just enough to lightly hold your waist.
“…You’re warm,” he whispers, embarrassed.
He will never recover from this.
August Stiltza
He looks down at you, expression unreadable.
“…YOOOOOOO! MA GIRLFRIEND JUST CLAIMED MEEEEE”
Once you settle he hugs you tightly.
If anyone approaches, his eyes sharpen.
You jsut watch him sketch around and listen to his hyper,ADHD, rants.
Zodyl Typhon
You sit on his lap and feel immediate danger.
His lips curl into a slow, predatory grin.
“Brave,” he murmurs.
Hands grip your hips—not rough, but certain.
“You sure you know what you’re doing?”
He doesn’t move you.
He lets the tension simmer, eyes never leaving your face. He rest his chin on your shoulder as he watchs the tv
Jabber Wonger
He bursts out laughing.
“HAHA—WHAT, I’M FURNITURE NOW?”
Hands slap onto your waist, playful but strong.
He wiggles just to mess with you. bounces his legs up and down ect.
“Careful, I might start charging rent.”
All jokes—until someone looks at you too long.
Then his smile drops instantly.
Bundus Begalkeit
You sit down and he goes dead silent.
One arm slowly wraps around you, heavy and unyielding.
His presence alone feels like a threat.
“…Stay,” he says quietly.
Not asking.
Deciding.
Anyone who approaches feels his gaze like a blade.
You’re not just on his lap—you’re under his protection.
The calmness in his voice disappears immediately.One hand gripping your jaw gently, checking responsiveness while the other keeps your body steady against him.
He becomes terrifyingly focused.
No panic externally.
But his pulse is going insane.
“Look at me.”
“…”
“Open your eyes.”
The second you wake up?
He gets angry from relief.
“You’re telling me next time you feel unwell.”
Enjin
Enjin’s heart DROPS.Like actual stomach-turning fear.
He’s kneeling beside you instantly:
“Baby? Hey-hey.”
You’ve never heard him sound that serious before.
Usually smooth, playful Enjin?
Gone.
Now he’s checking your breathing, brushing hair away from your face with shaky hands while trying to stay calm.The moment you wake up he’s half relieved, half offended.
“Do NOT scare me like that again.”
“You sound stressed.”
“I AM.”
Gris Rubion
Gris freezes for exactly half a second.Then switches into full efficiency mode.
Checks pulse.
Breathing.
Possible injuries.
What caused it.
But despite the logical actions, his expression gives him away completely.He looks genuinely frightened.Especially if your body goes limp against him.
When you wake up?
He’s unusually quiet for a while afterward.
Rudo Surebrec (older)
Older Rudo catches you HARD against his chest.
“Shit-”
The curse slips out immediately.He keeps calling your name over and over in that low rough voice while trying to wake you.And if somebody nearby isn’t helping fast enough? Oh he gets MEAN.
“Move.”
“Get water.”
“NOW.”
The relief when you finally stir is visible all over his face.
Then he immediately starts scolding you.
Zanka Nijiku (older)
Zanka goes ice cold.
Not emotionally.
Mentally.
Everything sharpens instantly.He lowers you carefully, checks your condition, starts calculating possible causes immediately.But the second you don’t respond fast enough?
His composure cracks.
“Y/N.”
Again. Sharper this time.
The moment you wake up and look confused?
This man exhales like he’s been holding his breath for years.
He taps your cheek lightly, voice getting sharper every second you don’t respond.
The moment you wake up?
This man laughs shakily from relief before hugging you so hard you almost pass out again.
Bundus Begalkeit
Bundus was JUST talking and turned around when he heard something drop. He looks over and see you on the ground. He used a hand to pick you up and place you on the couch.
“Can you hear me?”
“Y/n?”
The fear in his eyes is awful because it’s so sincere.Afterward he hovers constantly.
You stand up too quickly?
He’s already reaching toward you nervously.
Fu Orostor
Fu goes frighteningly still.
The kind of stillness that means panic is being compressed violently underneath.He lifts you carefully, checks for injuries, keeps one hand against your pulse the whole time.
And when you wake up? He visibly relaxes all at once.Like tension physically leaves his body.
Gountess Knock
Oh this poor man panics SO badly.
“Y/n??”
His voice actually cracks.
He’s terrified to touch you too roughly but also terrified to let go.The second you wake up he almost looks emotional.Like genuinely close to tears from relief.
And afterward?
He follows you around all day asking:
“Are you dizzy?”
“Do you need water?”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
heyy, if ur comfortable with that, could you write Gachiakuta x fem reader asking them ass, tits or tighs :P If ur not comfortable doing that dw pooks and have a great day ❤️🩹❤️🩹
Gachiakuta: ''Sooo....ass or tits...or thighs,baby?''
Could you do how gachiakuta would react if there usually monotone/serious partner did something out of character and honestly really cute but because they didn’t react at all to it (they were shocked), the partner just goes "im never doing that again"?
Gachiakuta: ''She just Malfunctioned,Thats all''
Arkha Corvus
You softly fix his collar and mumble, “You looked handsome today… just thought I’d say it.”
He freezes.
You wait.
Nothing.
“…Never mind. I’m not doing that again.”
Arkha snaps out of it immediately.
He catches your wrist before you can step away. His voice is low, almost urgent.
“Don’t.”
You blink.
“I was… processing.”
He clears his throat.
“You may continue. As often as you’d like.”
He will think about that compliment for three weeks.
Enjin
You randomly poke his cheek and smile.
He stares.
You slowly retract your hand.
“Yeah. Not doing that again.”
He grabs your wrist mid-retreat.
“What? No. Do it again.”
“You didn’t react.”
“I was stunned. That was illegal levels of cute.”
He will absolutely poke you back five seconds later.
Gris Rubion
You gently cup his face and kiss his nose out of nowhere.
He goes completely still.
You panic.
“Okay. That was weird. Forget that happened.”
Gris takes a full two seconds before responding.
Then he pulls you back by the waist and kisses your forehead firmly.
“Don’t withdraw affection because I’m slow.”
His voice is soft but serious.
He treasures that moment. Deeply.
Rudo Serubec (Older)
You quietly braid a small section of his hair without warning.
He freezes like someone pressed pause.
You step back.
“Yeah… I’m never doing that again.”
Rudo touches the braid carefully.
“…Why?”
“You didn’t like it.”
He looks at you, almost offended.
“I didn’t say that.”
He keeps the braid in all day.
Zanka Nijiku (Older)
You suddenly hug him from behind.
He stiffens.
You immediately let go.
“Sorry. That was dumb.”
He turns slowly.
“Do that again.”
“…What?”
“You startled me. That is different from disliking it.”
He will start standing in places where you can sneak up again.
Goka Nijiku
You lean up and quickly kiss his cheek mid-conversation.
He stops speaking.
Completely.
You panic instantly.
“Never mind. That was stupid.”
You turn away.
His hand clamps around your wrist firmly but not rough.
“Explain.”
“You didn’t react.”
He exhales slowly.
“I did react.”
“You didn’t.”
“It was internal.”
You stare at him.
He looks away slightly.
“…Do not assume silence is rejection.”
He will replay that kiss 400 times later.
Tamsy Caines
You suddenly rest your head on his shoulder mid-rant.
He goes quiet.
You immediately lift your head.
“Yeah, nope. Not doing that again.”
He dramatically clutches his chest.
“Excuse you? I was savoring that.”
“You didn’t say anything.”
“I was overwhelmed.”
He pulls you back down onto him.
“Do not deprive me because I froze. That’s cruel.”
Bro Santa
You gently adjust his bandana and call him cute.
He stops moving.
You cringe.
“Never mind.”
He blinks rapidly.
“Cute?”
“Forget it.”
He grabs both your shoulders.
“No, no. Say it again.”
He is red for the rest of the day.
Delmon Gates
You suddenly offer him a small handmade charm.
He stares at it.
You pull it back awkwardly.
“Okay. I’ll just keep it.”
He catches your hand instantly.
“You made that?”
“…Yeah.”
He takes it carefully.
“I require a moment.”
He keeps it on him permanently.
Follo Tunito
You lightly bump your forehead against his.
He goes still.
You recoil.
“Yeah, I misread that.”
He frowns.
“I was calculating the emotional significance.”
You blink.
“…Oh.”
He leans forward and bumps your forehead back, more deliberately.
“Repeat as necessary.”
August Stiltza
You unexpectedly giggle at something he says and call him adorable.
He freezes like you insulted him.
You stiffen.
“Never mind. That was embarrassing.”
He stares intensely.
“…Adorable?”
“You hate that word, don’t you?”
He steps closer.
“Say it again.”
He pretends to hate it.
He does not hate it.
Zodyl Typhon
You gently hold his hand first.
He pauses.
You slowly try to pull away.
“Yeah. Never mind.”
He grips tighter.
“Do not retreat.”
“You didn’t react.”
“I was surprised.”
His voice lowers.
“Do not punish me for being unprepared.”
He intertwines his fingers properly this time.
Jabber Wonger
You suddenly kiss his cheek.
He stops mid-sentence.
You cringe instantly.
“I’m never doing that again.”
He bursts out laughing.
“You thought I didn’t like that??”
He grabs you and kisses you back twice as dramatically.
“Again. Immediately.”
Bundus Begalkeit
You shyly compliment his smile.
He freezes.
You look away.
“Forget it.”
He touches his face like you just rewired him.
“…You noticed?”
“Yes?”
He looks at you softly.
“Don’t stop noticing.”
Fu Orostor
You gently squeeze his hand.
He stills.
You release it quickly.
“Sorry.”
He calmly takes your hand back.
“You mistook stillness for discomfort.”
He lifts your hand to his lips.
“Incorrect.”
Gountess Knock
You softly press a kiss to his temple while he’s reading.
He stops turning the page.
You immediately step back.
“I won’t do that again.”
He slowly closes the book.
Looks at you.
“Why.”
“You didn’t react.”
He studies you for a long second.
“I was not prepared.”
Silence.
“Do it again.”
When you hesitate, he pulls you gently closer himself.
“Do not withdraw tenderness because I process slowly.”
