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bunni-v1 · 1 day ago

Note

May we get some crk thoughts, my liege? I too have a hyperfixation—

Shadow Milk Cookie Headcannons (SFW & NSFW)

🍓Thank you for the excuse to write this shit, I feel less insane being asked to do it lol. I still think this might taint my public image, so lets hope none of my future employers fuck with tumblr. Anyway only smc since he's who I'm obsessing over. I was gonna add pv, but I write wayyyy too much to include both of them on one post. Maybe I'll do him if someone asks nicely. I'll have a mix of both sfw and nsfw so beware lol.

MDNI (I'll find u)

TW: Shadow Milk Cookie; Obsessive behaviors; Stalking mentioned; Nsfw under the cut; unedited

Info: Shadow Milk Cookie x Reader; Sfw & Nsfw headcannons

Credit for Beast Bite Idea: @rollingeevee (go give them love I adore this AU)

-To start I'm gonna say, he's insane, like genuinely. He leans into a lot of yandere-esque behaviors, but I firmly believe he's not a full-on yandere, just really fucked up in the head (trauma and such, poor thing, wah wah wah.)

-Pre-Corruption Shadow Milk surely had a lot of admirers, but admiration is very different from genuine love and connection. He was, in a very literal sense, on a different level than all the cookies on earthbread. He's immortal, a god meant to care for all cookies, romantic relationships with cookies (other than the other heroes) just aren't an option in his mind. (For the sake of these, none of the beasts have had any romantic interaction with him, because I don't wanna deal with that can of worms rn.)

-All that to say, it's highly unlikely he has much experience in relationships. Maybe he's had flings, and some sexual encounters, but I doubt he would commit to someone he would inevitably lose to time. And, sure, he certainly could artificially extend their lifetime... but that's unethical and unfair to his partner. The burden of immortality is not one a regular cookie is baked to bear.

-So when he is inevitably corrupted and sealed away, romance isn't really a thought on his mind. He's very fixated on escaping that stupid tree and enacting his revenge. Which he does, at least in part, and with his freedom comes half of his powers and ensuing chaos.

-There are not many ways he could meet you if I'm quite honest, so I'll leave that up to personal interpretation. However you do meet him, though, you have to be intriguing. He gets bored of people easily, so you have to stand out -- be that in your demeanor or the way you speak or how you challenge him, it just has to be interesting. Once he's interested he's hooked.

-He's rather... mmm... obsessive? He likely stalks you for a while before he makes any moves. He wants to learn your patterns, the cookies you surround yourself with, the things you like, your job, your favorite foods, what flowers you like, and how do you feel about his chaos? He'll even manipulate things around you, just to see how you might react. (Is it fucked up? Yeah, lol! But isn't it equally endearing? He seems to think so.)

-You have frequent reoccurring dreams about him in this period of time. You've only seen him from a distance at this point, but you can't quite shake him from your thoughts. What's very important here is that you realize that your thoughts are not your own. Acknowledge that he's watching, and make sure that he's aware you're aware. Be that by purposefully doing something he could recognize as acknowledgment, or outright saying that you're aware he's messing with you. He values curiosity and intelligence in a person, if you can break yourself out of his cycle he's 100% sold on you.

-It doesn't take much longer after that for him to make his first official appearance. Bowing gracefully in front of you as he materializes from thin air, smiling like a man driven mad by infatuation.

-Believe it or not, he's really not all that creepy or pushy. He's very playful and charming, and while you have the knowledge he'd been watching you for a long time at this point, it's hard not to fall for him. He flirts with an ease that no other cookie really has, and he's so very funny never failing to get a smile out of you at his jokes.

-Now, this may go against what others characterize him as a lot, but I don't believe he's the type to steal you away and lock you up. Shadow Milk is a cookie who wants to be wanted, he doesn't want his feelings to be entirely one-sided, it would really hurt him to pour himself into someone who does not want to reciprocate his passions.

-He's unbelievably patient with you. Despite what the mental manipulation from earlier implies, he allows you to set the pace and make the moves, mostly nudging you gently in the direction he wants you to go now that he has your attention. Again, he wants you to choose him. He wants you to love him, so he will happily wait as long as it takes for you to realize and accept your longing for him.

-He gives you the flowers you like, and listens to you talk about your exceedingly boring days (with rapt attention, of course, he loves listening to you talk as much as he loves talking). If you ask, he'll take you anywhere you'd like to go on earthbread with a snap of his fingers, showing you sights you'd only dreamed of seeing. (Whether or not these are illusions are still up for debate).

-It's very hard not to fall for him with all this considered, and he knows that of course. He was just waiting for you to confess, and you have to confess. He won't do it even if you make it clear you want him to. It's not something he'd ever admit to you -- or himself -- but he doesn't want to risk even the slightest bit of rejection. It would break him more than he's already been broken, so you'll have to do it for our poor little jester.

-When you do though? Oh, he's over the moon! Practically swooning as he scoops you up and spins you around in celebration. He's so overjoyed. He is wanted, there is someone in this world who loves him genuinely. There's no false platitudes or any worshipping done, just raw affection between the two of you. (Just the tiniest bit of manipulation at the start, but obviously you've dismissed and forgiven that at this point).

-Again, he doesn't immediately take you away from your life if you don't wish to be. He does heavily encourage you to come spend your days with him, though. He can take care of you, he's literally a god, you'll never ever want for anything so long as he can control it (which he can, duh).

-I feel it very important to emphasize that in a relationship with him, you are equal. Even if you literally cannot be equal in stature and power, you are equal in the relationship -- if anything you have more sway over him than he does over you. He's very, very in love with you, and he will do just about anything you ask of him so long as it doesn't interfere with obtaining his souljam.

-Having established that, let's get to the fun stuff.

-Shadow Milk Cookie is very physically and verbally affectionate. If you are around him it's likely he's touching you in some way. Whether that's him literally hanging off you like a baby monkey or just a hand on your arm, he likes to have a physical tether to you.

-Plenty of messy wet kisses all over your cute little face, he loves seeing you get all flustered and feeling your dough burn up from his barrage of affections.

-It's also very common for him to carry you around in various different styles. Over the shoulder, piggback, princess style, like a sack of potatoes... doesn't really matter. It's also a regular occurrence that you fall asleep as he floats around the spire of all knowledge. He doesn't need sleep, and he does not sleep often, but he likes holding you while you do so. It's proof of your trust in him, and he usually uses the time you are sleeping to be more genuinely affectionate. Soft words whispered in your ears bringing you sweet dreams as he runs his hands up and down your back, kissing the crown of your head with such love it would make a grown man blush.

-He calls you cute little nicknames, like shortcake or sweet thing. The most common, and his favorites, are doll/dolly and little star. (Little star is something he hums with such affection it makes you weak in the knees. You know he's feeling more adoring when he uses it.) Talks about how cute you are, how pretty you are, how desirable you are. How any cookie would be so lucky to have you -- too bad they could never compete with him!

-That being said, most of his affections are pretty surface-level stuff at the start of the relationship. At least, what you get to see. He has a hard time opening up to others, he's a very sensitive cookie deep down in his dough. It takes quite a while to get him out of his shell and start showing you who he is as himself.

-Who he is, is a very aching cookie. He lost so much, struggled with his own corruption, and still hasn't fully accepted it himself. He feels as though he has been betrayed and discarded by everything he once loved, it's no wonder he has a hard time showing you such ugly sides of himself.

-You warm him up, melt him slowly, and you get to see peaks of genuine love and adoration behind those heterochromatic eyes. He may never allow you to see all of him at once, but you do get to know him. If you continue to love him despite seeing the uglier side of things, there is a distinct shift in the way he showers you in affection.

-Initially, he's very showy with everything, his love is a spectacle for the two of you to watch. It's almost like he's put himself outside of the relationship rather than in it. After he opens up, it's quieter, more intimate. He's more involved in it, like it's less about showing you how much he loves you, and more about sharing that mutual feeling between the two of you.

-You didn't have much room to show him how much you cared for him, but now you do. He allows you to initiate physical affection and doesn't flinch away at the touch. He accepts your words of admiration for what they are, not questioning your intentions for any reason.

-Kisses are softer, more full of emotion. Less like he's drowning you and more like he's trying to swallow you up. Desperation to have you as close to him as possible can take him over quite frequently during make-out sessions, and they leave you breathless and fuzzy rather than burning and flustered.

-Now, you can't write Shadow Milk without acknowledging how fucking jealous he is all the time. Now, I believe it's less of a jealousy thing (though, that really is something that is frequent), and more of a possessive/protective thing.

-He doesn't get jealous of the average cookie, alright, not unless you show interest for whatever reason. They're not really a threat to him, and why would they be? He's secure enough to know that you wouldn't leave him for some random half-baked simpleton. HOWEVER, he DOES get jealous of the other beasts and especially Pure Vanilla Cookie.

-The other beasts aren't as powerful as him, but they're still powerful and cunning (some of them at least). Truly, on a level of divinity and ability to care for you, they are his closest competition. Even still, he only gets jealous if one of them seems to want to stake a claim on you, or you become too fascinated with one of them.

-If neither is the case, he highly encourages you to form relationships with them. They are cookies that, seemingly, he cares for. While they can be difficult to get along with, if you are someone Shadow Milk deems worth his time, you are someone they will also deem worth their time.

-Ah, I should also mention he gets... pouty about Black Sapphire and Candy Apple. He doesn't see either of them as a threat, so I couldn't say he's jealous... he just gets annoyed when you're being attentive to them when he's around. Black Sapphire is smart enough to set hard boundaries with you to start, for both of your sakes, but your relationship with him is very positive. You are Shadow Milk Cookies partner, after all, you're a very important Cookie and Black Sapphire has no reason to be unkind to you.

-Candy Apple Cookie on the other hand is the one who's jealous here. You find her positively adorable and her little crush on Shadow Milk is nothing but endearing in your eyes, but she very much is huffy about your relationship with him. Of course, she can't do anything to you, that would only turn against her in the end so she just pouts. You can win her over slowly, though, just by being sweet to her and comforting her when Shadow Milk rejects her once again.

-Your relationship with them seemingly pleases Shadow Milk, though you can't really tell if he's happy or not. Sometimes he seems pleased, other times he's pouty, so who really knows other than him.

-However, the cookie that really seriously gets under his skin the most is Pure Vanilla. He does everything in his power to keep the two of you as far away from one another as possible, but it's almost inevitable that you meet PV, especially when he becomes Truthless Recluse.

-Pure Vanilla is everything Shadow Milk is not. Kind, gentle, patient, soft-spoken, and of course truthful. He's very afraid you may meet PV and realize that you do not want to be with him anymore. You would rather have someone like Pure Vanilla Cookie to dote on you in a fashion that he cannot bring himself to do openly yet.

-Of course, you don't, but that doesn't stop the fear from seeping into his dough. The only way to ease him is by being patient and displaying your loyalty through and through. He won't really be calm until Pure Vanilla is take care of, but you can assure him that you won't be leaving him for his other half anytime soon.

-Circling back to his possessive and protective tendencies, Shadow Milk does see you as an object of his affection. He is fully aware you are your own cookie, you are not something he ever wishes to control entirely and remove autonomy from, but you are his. His to keep and love and protect.

-He's very obsessive about your well-being and happiness. If something hurts you (alive or not), it's gone, destroyed. He won't even make a show of it, it just disappears. If you are upset, he is there doing everything to make you feel better. Whatever you want, whatever you need! He's here for you, please rely on him (he needs you to rely on him).

-If you are out and about he keeps an eye on you, which you are aware of. It's rather obvious, so even if he doesn't tell you, you can feel him watching you. Ignoring it becomes easier with time, but if anything happens to you he wastes no time in popping up and taking care of whatever happens.

-This leads into my next headcanon (inspired by the ever-talented @rollingeevee go check them out!), he has a bite of sorts that he uses as a means of monitoring you. It's something he uses to pinpoint where you are at all times, even when he's not monitoring you actively. The bite acts as a connection between you and him, emotionally and physically tying the two of you together.

-You can feel what he feels through the bite, anger, sadness, joy, pretty much anything he feels you can feel. It also acts as a reminder to you that you should not stray too far from where he is, sending an uncomfortably heavy feeling through your dough. (This is a manifestation of his worry, and it only really happens when he notices you've gone somewhere a little too far from the safety of the spire).

-However, this goes both ways. He can also feel what you feel at the same intensity that you feel it. You can, likely less so, also tell where he is. There is a pull in the back of your mind from the magic telling you where to find him at all times, and it only lets go when you are in proximity of him. If you miss him, he feels the same heavy feeling in his dough reminding him that you would like him by your side.

-Now, finally, we have to address the topic of mortality. Shadow Milk is likely more aware than you ever will be of how mortal you really are. This is why he's so very protective and possessive of you, he doesn't want to lose you prematurely.

-However, if you are okay with it, he is completely fine with artificially extending your life span. In fact, he does it happily. He might even start doing it without asking if the topic hasn't been broached in a certain amount of time. He wants to spend as long as you'll allow him by your side, and if that means breaking a few rules of magic and cookie society then so be it. He's a god after all, he doesn't have to answer to anyone (other than the witches).

-Anyway, let's get to the shit you freaks are really here for. (Me, I'm freaks.)

-I don't really think sexual intimacy is something Shadow Milk desires all that much, but he more so likes it because it's... interesting? I'm sure he derives physical pleasure from sexual intercourse, but less so than the average cookie might. Most of his enjoyment comes from seeing you enjoy yourself.

-It goes without saying, but Shadow Milk Cookie is a freak. He's into pretty much anything under the sun (except maybe one thing...), and so long as you're down to try something he's happy to oblige you.

-He is a switch, but he leans dom most of the time, and you won't get him to sub early on in your relationship. That requires a bit too much trust for him, so he'll need time to be cool with giving you that kind of control over him. But he will bottom for you as your relationship progresses, and that's a whole different side to him.

-Lets start with him in a dominant role, though, since it's more common to get from him.

-Obviously, he's a tease, through and through. He loves to watch you squirm and react to the things he does. Tantalizingly light touches drawn over your dough, teeth grazing your soft body almost piercing but never quite getting deep enough, heated breath blown over your most sensitive spots but never relieving you with his mouth as you so desperately need.

-Truthfully he could spend another thousand years just tracing over you, committing each inch to memory until he's satisfied in knowing every inch of you. Unfortunately, (or fortunately), he's not nearly as patient in the bedroom as he is outside of it. Not with all of you on display for him, so trusting and open, ready for him to defile you. Oh, his sweet, sweet little dolly~

-Even with his impatience, his teasing does not stop. His hands continue to ghost over you, making sure you're still squirming even as he succumbs to his need to taste you.

-Oh, and tastes you he does. He doesn't have to subscribe to regular cookie physical limitations, so he somehow manages to swallow you whole. Jaw unhinging so he can get as much as he needs from you, tongue splitting itself to give you attention everywhere, and god is it long and dexterous. He can reach so very deep and it moves with such precision, it makes you cum embarrassingly fast.

-That is if he allows you to cum in the first place. He's a big fan of edging, which shouldn't be a surprise. He likes to get you so close, then deny you of your pleasure. Your whining and grumbling is the cutest thing on all of earthbread, don't you know? He can't help but edge you when you're so damn cute every time.

-Your pleasure is in his hands, and it requires such relinquishing of power and trust. In a weird way it makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside, especially when you thank him over and over once he finally allows you to come undone after hours of teasing.

-Speaking of, he is a big fan of being praised for the work he does on you. Your moans and pleas are reward enough, but if you mumble out about how good you feel, how much you love him, how amazing he is he'll become drunk on your praise. Chasing after it with fervor, meaning he's going down on you with so much more excitement somehow.

-He's into blood (jam?) play. He likes leaving physical reminders of your relationship all over your body (yes, even ur vag/dick if you let him). With how sharp his teeth are, it's impossible for you not to bleed when he does so, and he does really like the sight of your jam. It's so pretty and so different from his own, another reminder of how different you are, and how much you trust him. (He'll lick it up and purr at the taste.)

-Bruises are also littered about your dough, his grip on you is tight, like you might slip away from him. The treatment is rough and harsh, but it feels so nice to be manhandled by him. The bruises are just nice little reminders of who you belong to. (He gets all proud when other cookies worry about them, like he's done something worthy of praise).

-He likes watching, he's very much a voyeur. Occasionally requests that you pleasure yourself for him so he can watch you struggle to get off, and he'll only help you out when you're near tears begging him.

-He prefers coming across you by himself, without having to request it. Or just feeling waves of pleasure through your bite. He'll watch you quietly fuck yourself without letting you know he's there. (Though, you most certainly can feel his eyes on you, that's what makes it so fun right?) Sometimes he'll join you after, and other and times he'll leave you be, it's 50/50 either way and regardless you still end up happy.

-If anyone else walks in on you when you're alone, he's very unpleasant. Accident or not they'll learn to be more aware of their surroundings next time.

-That doesn't mean he's against being watched though. Actually, he finds the idea of someone else seeing how well he treats you enticing (especially if it's someone like Pure Vanilla hehe). If you are together and someone walks in (or spots you in public), he won't stop. Instead, he'll lock eyes with them and smile big and wide, showing off his favorite little dolly for them.

-He's just so proud of you, and you're so very pretty beneath him, the whole world should get to see how you fall apart for him. He'll even make you look at them just to see how you fluster.

-If the offender tries to do anything other than watch, though, well... I really hope they didn't want to live for much longer. He's very much not a sharer, at all. The idea of anyone even thinking they could touch you and make you feel good both makes him laugh and want to tear them apart at once.

-He's very much into roleplaying and can get really into it. To the point, it loses the sexiness and is just the two of you playing around, which can be a bummer but is usually really fun. He likes things that lean into power dynamics but explicitly avoids god/king and worshipper/subject. A little too close to home for him, and would honestly be too boring and basic for him.

-He loves it when you dress up for him in pretty little outfits, be it lingerie or something more cutesy, he adores it regardless. Going out of your way to pretty up for him is a huge turn-on. He also loves it when you let him dress you up how he likes. Regardless of what you're wearing, it's not coming off the whole night. It will get ruined and he won't apologize for it. Besides, he can just replace it, right?

-Sex is more fun for him, but he can be intimate when he wants to be. Usually, when you're in control, he is at his most gentle. Yes, he's a brat when he bottoms and he'll fight you tooth and nail, but once you get him to submit he's the softest and sweetest you've ever seen him.

-He looks at you like you're the god, wide eyes taking in everything you do with such admiration it might make you crumble on the spot.

-He's much quieter, treating it less like a spectacle. Moans soft and squeaky, like he's not used to using his voice in such a way. He clings to you like a vice at each little movement, almost afraid you might disappear if he lets you go.

-Oh, and he praises you so much. 'So good', 'Thank you', 'You're perfect', and 'I love you' all tumble from him with such genuine gratitude.

-Being allowed to let his guard down and have you take control is cathartic for him, which is why it's so uncommon to have it happen. It's why he fights you for control so hard because this is an intimacy he isn't used to. It is hard for him to allow you to see him so weak, but you never use it against him. You're so very sweet and loving, and it makes him melt like butter in your grasp.

-If you have the bite I mentioned earlier, it only makes things so much more intense. Both of you can feel the raw emotion connecting the two of you, making the pleasure heighten further.

-In fact, when he gives you the bite it's the first time he allows you to top him. To connect you to him makes him very vulnerable, so he would naturally have to be in a vulnerable state already when he does so.

-It's unlike any of his other bites, it's far more painful when he initially bites down, but when his magic flows through it your body feels light and airy. The pleasurable feeling wrapping itself around your spine, and you feel what he's feeling. All that adoration pours into your being at once, and it's overwhelming to really feel how much he loves you.

#bunni's treats 🧁#x reader #shadow milk crk #crk #cr kingdom #cookie run kingdom #shadow milk cookie #shadow milk cookie x reader #shadow milk x reader #shadow milk cookie crk #put me down bro

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nameless-jamie · 2 days ago

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I LOVE RED CARD!!! I'm hoping it can became a mini series inside a series 🥰🥰🥰 Can you write a continuation to the 1st part where Jamie finds put what Rupert said or maybe he overhears something he said about the PA and his recation? Sorry, I know it's not very specific 😅

Drabble - Retaliation (Red Card)

Read RED CARD first to understand!

Masterlist

Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader

TW: cursing, angry Jamie

A/N: Hiii I'm not really sure it has potential to become a mini series but I wrote the situation in which Jamie finds out what Rupert specifically said to Y/N and how he reacts. I hope you like it anyway. Time-wise it happens directly after Red Card.

Flashback to Red Card:

“Nah, nah, I’m just—” He shook his head, grinning. “You got sent off tryin’ to protect me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t make it a thing.”

“Oh, it’s definitely a thing.” A really sexy thing. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Admit it. You care about me.”

...

She huffed. “Oh, trust me. Next time, I’m throwing a punch.”

Jamie grinned. “Now that, love, I’d pay to see.”

...

Jamie had never been more turned on in his life.

It was bad. Really bad.

He was supposed to be the reckless one, the hothead, the one who got in trouble for letting his emotions get the better of him. But Y/N? His PA? The one who always rolled her eyes at him when he got mouthy on the pitch, who reminded him to “think before he acts” at least once a week?

Yeah. She had just gotten a red card.

And not just any red card. She had squared up to Rupert Mannion, called him a disgusting, pathetic excuse for a man before getting ejected from the stadium.

Yup, they cleared it up, they talked it out, she cared about him. Jamie had talked to her in the locker room after the game and now it was time to go home. He was driving his little crazy assistant and they were walking to the parking lot.

“You,” he said, slow and deliberate, “are insane for that today.”

She groaned. “Jamie—”

“In a good way,” he clarified. “In a sexy way.”

She gaped at him. “That is not the point right now.”

“Yeah, well, I’m still processing,” Jamie said. “’Cause last I checked, I’m the one who does the dumb shit. Not you.”

Y/N huffed, dragging a hand through her hair. “It wasn’t dumb. It was warranted.”

Jamie narrowed his eyes. “What did he say anyway?”

She hesitated.

Jamie stepped closer. “What did he say, Y/N?”

Y/N exhaled, looking away. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It does.”

She shook her head. “Jamie—”

“Tell me.”

Her jaw clenched. Then, finally, she sighed. "He said: What’s Jamie got you doing these days? Fetching his water? Maybe warming his bed? Then he said something about our relationship being a little inappropriate and some misogynistic comments followed, then I lashed out..."

amie’s vision blurred with rage.

“Jamie—”

He was already turning.

“Jamie.”

Her hands grabbed his arm before he could storm back into the stadium. He whirled back to her, jaw tight.

“I’ll kill him.”

“You won’t.”

Jamie scoffed. “You think I won’t?”

“I know you won’t,” she shot back. “Because if you do, I’ll have to bail you out of jail, and I’ve had enough trouble for one night.”

Jamie clenched his fists. “He doesn’t get to talk about you like that.”

“I know,” she said. “That’s why I handled it.”

Jamie turned, looking down at her. “You shouldn’t have had to hear that,” he said, voice low. “Shouldn’t have had to deal with that.”

Jamie’s eyes flickered over her face, still hard with frustration.

She sighed. “Look, I appreciate the protectiveness, but you starting a fight with Rupert isn’t gonna change anything.”

Jamie tilted his head. “Yeah, but it’d make me feel a whole lot better.”

He exhaled again, calming himself. “You didn’t have to do that for me.”

Her gaze softened. “Yeah, I did.”

A beat.

Then Jamie smirked. “So… you called him a disgusting, pathetic excuse for a man?"

Her lips twitched. “Among other things.”

“Fuckin’ hell, love.” Jamie let out a low whistle. “I think I might be in love with you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but her cheeks flushed. “Shut up.”

Jamie grinned. “Nah, but seriously—next time, at least let me get in a punch first, yeah?”

She sighed. “You’re impossible. Let it go, Jamie.”

Jamie sighed too. "Fuck, I'll try, will you come home with me, maybe watch a movie and chill. I need some company right now..."

"Always."

Jamie didn’t let it go.

Of course, he didn’t.

Y/N knew him well enough to expect it—the moment Jamie Tartt got something stuck in his head, there was no talking him out of it. And apparently, Rupert Mannion being a misogynistic prick about her was something Jamie was more than willing to go to war over.

She caught him that evening, leaning on his kitchen counter, phone in hand, eyes narrowed at the screen.

“Jamie.”

He didn’t look up. “One sec.”

“No, not one sec,” she said, snatching the phone from his grasp before he could react. She glanced at the screen. He’d been typing—no, retyping—a text to someone.

“Who’s this to?” she asked, scrolling up.

“Don’t—” Jamie made a grab for it, but she dodged, stepping out of reach. “Oi! Give it back, you little thief—”

Her eyes scanned the unsent message.

From Jamie Tartt: If I ever hear you talk about her like that again, I swear to fuck—

She scrolled further.

Jamie Tartt: I don’t care how much money you’ve got, you’re still a sad little man

Jamie Tartt: Watch your fucking mouth, old man.

Y/N sighed, locking the screen and shoving the phone into her back pocket. “Jesus, Jamie.”

“What?” He threw his hands up. “Bloke’s a twat. He deserves it.”

“I know that,” she said, exasperated. “But sending him angry texts isn’t gonna do shit except make you look unhinged.”

Jamie scoffed. “Unhinged? I’ll show you unhinged, love. I was about ten seconds away from driving to West Ham’s training ground and dealing with him properly.”

She stared at him. “You mean fighting him?”

Jamie lifted a shoulder. “Not fight fight. Just… you know.” He made a vague punching motion. “Maybe a little slap. He’s old, innit? Wouldn’t take much.”

Y/N groaned, rubbing her temples. “You’re impossible.”

Jamie huffed. “I should’ve done something. Back when he said it. Should’ve knocked him on his arse right there.”

She looked up at him then, properly looked. Jamie wasn’t just pissed—he was guilty.

“Jamie,” she said, softer now. “You did do something. You supported me."

“Yeah, but I didn’t even know what he said.” His jaw tensed. “If I had—”

“You’d be serving a five-game, by now.” she finished.

Jamie exhaled sharply. “It weren’t even about football. He was just bein’ a prick, just tryna put you down ‘cause you’re—”

He cut himself off.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Because I’m what?”

Jamie swallowed. “Because you’re you.”

Something passed between them. Something unspoken but heavy.

Jamie shifted, glancing away, scuffing his boot against the floor. “Look, all I’m sayin’ is—if he ever talks about you like that again, I will do something about it. Don’t care if I get fined, don’t care if I get benched. Just so we’re clear.”

Y/N bit her lip. “You really would fight him, wouldn’t you?”

Jamie met her gaze. “Yeah.” His voice was quiet. “Yeah, I would. As far as we know you would too, love.”

Y/N didn’t know what to say to that.

So instead, she reached into her pocket, pulled out his phone, and handed it back.

“No more angry texts.”

Jamie sighed, stuffing the phone into his hoodie. “Fine.”

“Good.”

A beat.

Then Jamie smirked. “I’ll just send him a really sarcastic fruit basket instead.”

Y/N groaned. “Jamie.”

“Oi, that’s classy retaliation, that is.”

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “Come on, dumbass. I’ll buy you dinner before you come up with any more terrible ideas.”

Jamie grinned. “You are my favorite, y’know that?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered, shoving him playfully. “You better start behaving, or I might switch teams.”

Jamie’s smirk faltered for a split second.

Then, before she could register it, he was grabbing her wrist, tugging her just slightly closer, his voice dropping.

“Not funny, love.”

Y/N blinked.

Jamie held her gaze, a flicker of something serious in his expression. But before she could say anything, he let go, stepping back with an easy grin.

“Right,” he said, stretching. “What we havin’ for dinner?”

Y/N exhaled, pushing away whatever that moment was. “Anything except fruit baskets.”

Jamie chuckled. “Shame. Would’ve been a great fruit basket.”

As they walked out together, Y/N knew one thing for sure:

Rupert Mannion may have been a smug bastard—

But Jamie Tartt?

He was a dangerous one.

#jamie tartt #ted lasso #ted lasso show #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #afc richmond #jamie tartt imagine #roy kent #sam obisanya #PA x Jamie Tartt

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lycheeloving · 3 days ago

Text

Second chapter!! Happy Valentine's day <3

Bruce finds you at work and doesn't leave you alone.

< first chapter

The next day at work, it all feels like a fever dream. Did you really meet Bruce Wayne? And talk to him all night? You feel a bit nauseous just thinking about it, but you just remind yourself that you'll never see him again. Even if you did get along really well...

Whatever, you'll just daydream about kissing him in the moonlight, that's just as fun as the real thing, right? Not that you could compare it to the real thing, you'd have to kiss someone at some point to know what it's like.

Maybe you should have kissed Bruce yesterday, he certainly seemed like he would have been ok with that, but that was probably just wishful thinking anyways. Oh well, too late now.

The bell that lets you know somebody entered the store rings and rips you out of your thoughts. Fuck. You hate when there's costumers, which is why you chose to work at the shittiest bookstore in Gotham. And are hiding in the back.

You're supposed to say something like "I'll be right with you!", but you're not going to do that. You hate talking loudly. Especially to strangers, especially when you can't even see them. But you never even say anything when you're out in the front and making direct eye contact with them, so whatever. You just hope they won't ask you for help with finding anything, just having to ring them up is bad enough...

Why do you have to get costumers at all? Fuck, you should really look for a job with less contact to people, but this is the best you've been able to find so far.

You reluctantly leave the safety of the back room, only to find a guy in an oversized hoodie and sunglasses absolutely beaming at you. Why is he looking at you like that? Should you know him?

Only when he takes the sunglasses off do you realize that it's Bruce. No way, how did he find you? You feel your palms getting sweaty.

"Finally! I found you! Do you know how hard it was to find this book store with the minimal description you gave me?"

Not hard enough, apparently, considering that he was able to find you this soon. It hasn't even been a full day!

He's still smiling at you. "I've been to multiple book stores this morning! I'm so glad you told me you'd be working today, or I would have had to ask everyone if you're one of their coworkers!"

"Yeah, well, if I had wanted you to show up here, I would have given you more details, probably." You deadpan, hoping your voice isn't shaking.

He's not deterred, he just keeps talking as if you hadn't said anything: "Wanna get lunch with me? When's your break? We could go to that café around the corner that I saw on my way here!"

Is he not getting that you don't want him here? Well, you do want him here, but you don't. You want him to think you don't want him here so he'll leave before you can embarrass yourself.

"I can't leave for my break, I have to stay here. I'm the only one working right now, I can't just- just lock up and get something to eat." Your boss actually allowed you to do just that, but when you came back from doing it the first time, an angry costumer was waiting for you and yelled at you for 10 minutes about how it's rude to just close the store in the middle of the day. You don't want a repeat of that, so you started eating your lunch at work whenever there were no costumers. Which is almost always, luckily.

"I could go get you something and we can eat here! It doesn't seem like you get a lot of costumers so we won't even be disturbing anyone!" Why is he so persistent? Can't he go talk to some supermodel or something?

"I'm not hungry." You kind of are, actually.

"That's fine, we can just talk! I just wanted to spend some time with you. You know, I haven't clicked with anyone like this in a long time, I couldn't just let you go."

Wait, is he serious? Well, why else would he go through the effort of looking for you... But still, you can't quite believe it. Are you being pranked?

"You should go. What if costumers start showing up? I'm sure you don't want some weird fan to recognize you."

Bruce ignores what you say and stays. He talks to you for about half an hour, well, mostly he talks at you, until he has to leave because his lunch break is over. You just stand there, perplexed. Does he really want to hang out with you?

He returns the next day. And the next. And the next. Every day, always during his lunch break. It takes a few times until you stop trying to ignore him, a few more times until you start actually talking to him, and a few more times until you agree to eat lunch with him. Not go anywhere else, just eat your own lunch at the bookstore.

You can't stop yourself from trying to push him away a little bit, though.

You put down your fork. "You know, it's rude of you to keep visiting me at work, where I can't just leave. This is basically harassment."

"If you want me to go, I'll go. Just say so, and I'll never show up here again, I promise."

You don't want him to leave. Well, you do, because you don't want to get even more attached, but you don't, because, well, you're getting attached. You can't bring yourself to make him leave.

You huff and roll your eyes. "Whatever." You pick your fork back up and continue eating.

He tries to suppress a smile. Gross. He's so cute.

Whenever he catches you playing a silly game on your phone (which is basically every time he enters the store, as you love slacking off), he insists on befriending you on it if possible, so when you're not hanging out he'll send you a booster on your candy-crush-esque game, or play against you on a quiz app.

Sometimes he uses the chat option there to tell you to go to sleep when it's late and he catches you playing, even though he's obviously awake as well! Hypocrite. It makes you smile every time.

One day while you're eating lunch together, a few months after he first showed up, he puts down his fork and says: "I think I need to make this more clear. I am interested in you romantically. I want to date you."

You almost spit out your lunch, but manage to swallow it without choking. "H- Wh- Huh? What?"

"We can just be friends, I'd love to be friends, we already are friends, in my opinion, but I would also love to date you. So if one day you decide that you want to date me, please let me know."

You already want to, but you will absolutely not be informing him of that, thanks. Asking for what you want? What are you, a well adjusted person? You blink owlishly at him instead of saying anything. That should suffice as a response, right? No, you should probably say something.

"...Look, even if I was interested in dating you—", which, again, you literally are, but why would you tell him that;

"—you're famous, and at some point it would come out that I was dating you, and the paparazzi would publish one single picture of me and I'd immediately panic so hard I would pass out and die. This—" You point your fork between the two of you. "—is already risky enough. Whatever this is, anyway."

Bruce, as always, chooses not to address the parts of what you were saying that were clearly your anxiety speaking and simply grins.

"So you do want to date me? It sounds to me like you're just looking for excuses. Don't worry, if I don't want anyone to know about you, noone will! People don't tend to recognize me when I'm not wearing a suit, especially in environments where they're not expecting me, so anywhere outside of my workplace and fancy parties. It's worked so far, hasn't it? Not a single person has recognized me here! Dating won't change that. So, if you do want to go on a date with me, just say the word. Please."

What word? Wait, he means that metaphorically, right? No, but seriously, what would you say, how would you say that without sounding totally weird?

"That's not what I was saying. At all. Stop misinterpreting me." You roll your eyes at him. He changes the topic, but he keeps smiling until he has to leave.

Lying awake that night, you think about what he said. Does he actually like you? Or is he just pretending, because he likes a challenge? Knew you'd be difficult to get close to, and he gets a kick from being someone's first relationship, kiss, everything, and then leaving them? You feel nauseous and you suddenly feel cold. How are you supposed to figure this out? You try to tell yourself that it's only your anxiety speaking, that Bruce is actually a nice person and wouldn't do that, but you can't quite convince yourself.

The next day, your way home after work (and after pretending your conversation with Bruce yesterday didn't happen, which luckily he played along with), you see something on the ground that reflects the light in a way that catches your eye.

What is that? It's kind of hidden behind a trash can.

You take a step closer, hoping it's not some kind of trap, but you can't think of a villain who would hide shiny things on the floor to kill civilians. At least not in that color, the Joker would make it colorful, and this object appears to be... black?

Oh, it's a Batarang! You've never seen one up close, but they can't be super rare with how often people online post about having found one, there's even one guy who collects them and has an entire wall plastered with them. Allegedly. People online are saying that most of them are probably replicas, but you can't tell, as you've never seen a real one. Until now.

That makes you think, just how many Batarangs does Batman have? More than enough if he let's random people keep them. You think about picking it up and taking it with you. It would be really cool to have a Batarang...

You reach out towards it, but stop right before you touch it. Is it stuck in the floor? Fuck, just how sharp are those things...?

Maybe you should leave it here, you'd just cut your hand open on it, trying to get it unstuck.

Plus, maybe Batman will find this one if you leave it here, and then re-use it! Reduce, re-use, recycle, Batman!

You leave it where you found it, after taking a few pictures of it as proof.

The next day, Bruce asks you if you did anything interesting yesterday, like he does every time he sees you. Usually you'd say no, but you did find that Batarang... Would Bruce care about that?

While you're contemplating, Bruce says: "You'd have said no by now if nothing had happened! Come on, please tell me?"

Fine! Whatever! You'll tell him, even if he'll probably think it's boring.

"Ok, so, on my way home yesterday... I found a Batarang. And, um, it got me thinking, well, first of all, how many of those does that guy have? If he's just leaving them lying around like that, right? Oh, and, it was so sharp, it was stuck in the floor, though I guess maybe that just means Batman is really strong? Either way, I thought he doesn't kill, right, but considering what he's working with it's a miracle no criminal has ended up dead yet, right?" You stop rambling, realizing that Bruce hasn't said anything yet. At least he appears to be amused.

"You have a lot of thoughts about Batman, huh?" He grins. "Yeah, he must have tons of those things, I've seen the posts. Did you take it with you?" He didn't respond to your killing thoughts... Oh well, you did give him a lot of information all at once.

"No, I didn't... But I thought about it! I mean, it seems like that's what everyone else is doing, but with it being stuck in the floor like that I was worried I would cut my hand open trying to get it unstuck! And with my luck there would have been germs or poison on it and my wound would have gotten infected, like, immediately, and I would have died. So I left it there for Batman to hopefully find again. I mean, he should probably be reusing the ones he already has, right? Reduce, reuse, recycle, I'm just helping Batman be more climate friendly!" There you go, rambling again.

Bruce seems almost too amused at all of this.

"Well, do you want it? I can come with you when your shift is over and help you get it unstuck, if you want. If nobody else has already taken it. I'm sure Batman won't mind. And if it ever comes out that he's not trying his best to be climate friendly, I'll personally go kick his ass, I promise."

"Uh. Um. You don't have to do that!"

"...Kick his ass or go get the batarang for you?"

"I meant getting the batarang, but also please don't fight Batman. He'd wipe the floor with you. No offense."

"Well, first of all, I think I'm just as strong as Batman-" You roll your eyes at him. Dork.

"And second of all, I don't have to get it for you, but I want to. Please let me?"

Ok. Fuck. Whatever. This is the first time you'll be seeing him outside of work, excluding your first meeting.

"Uh. Ok? I, um, my shift ends at 8."

"I'll pick you up in front of the store, then. It's a date!"

"Uh! No, well, yes, but, it- um-"

"I'm just teasing you." He winks at you. Winks! Is he trying to kill you? You turn your face towards your food so you don't have to look at him. Asshole. Stop being so hot.

Later, at 8, he's already waiting for you in front of the store while you're locking up.

"Ready to go?" He smiles.

"Uh, yeah! Sure!"

You start leading the way to where you found the batarang, talking about whatever comes to mind on the way.

Finally, about halfway on your way home, you reach the place where the batarang should be. You hope it's still there, but somebody else could have taken it. You push the trashcan it was behind to the side, and...

There it is!

"Look, it's still here!" You turn around to Bruce, smiling. He smiles back. You fight the urge to giggle or hide your face behind your hands, he needs to stop being so cute.

"Didn't you say it's stuck in the ground? Why wouldn't it be here anymore?"

"Uh, you said you'd help me get it out? Somebody else could have done the same thing!"

"Right. But they don't have my getting batarangs unstuck from the ground skills."

You roll your eyes. How often could Bruce have come in contact with a batarang? His only advantage compared to you is that he's stronger and not afraid of cutting his hand open. At least that's what you think.

You watch as he grabs the batarang and gets it unstuck in seconds. Seriously? It was that easy?

"Woah. I think I would have been able to do that myself, that looked super easy. Sorry to have made you come all this way..." Apparently it wasn't stuck in there as much as you thought? Even if a considerable part of it disappeared beneath the ground. Hm. Weird. Maybe there was a batarang shaped hole there before it landed there? Or Bruce is just a lot stronger than he looks.

"No, I'm glad I came along! I wouldn't have wanted you to cut yourself accidentally." He wraps the batarang in a piece of fabric. Some kind of rich people tissue, maybe.

"Let me carry it home for you?" He looks at you in a way that makes you melt a little bit. Ok, fine.

"Oh, uh, sure!" You did enjoy walking around with him. And not just because walking with someone in Gotham is safer than doing it alone.

"Also we could maybe order dinner? And eat together at your place?" And let him into your apartment that's not cleaned up? That looks shitty even when it is cleaned up?

"Don't push it."

"Or we could go somewhere? I'll pay, of course."

And absolutely embarrass yourself and make him never want to see you again and talk about you to journalists that you're a horrible person, which gets published in every newspaper ever so you have to move and change your name? Ok, maybe that was a bit dramatic.

Bruce can clearly see the anxiety on your face.

"It doesn't have to be a date, if you don't want that."

Be brave! Be brave! You can do this!

"Uh." You almost choke on your words. "And... if I do... want that...?"

You might actually pass out, this is horrible. If he doesn't respond in less than a second, your flight response is going to win and you'll run away. And quit your job, so he can't find you again.

"That would be wonderful! We can take it slow, ok? Absolutely no pressure to do anything you don't want to do whatsoever, I promise."

You nod, not feeling brave enough to say anything. Maybe those were your last words ever.

"So... Dinner at your place? As a date?"

You nod again. Shit, fuck. Are you actually going to date Bruce Wayne? What were you thinking? Wait, does going on one date even mean you're 'dating' him? What's the definition here?

You start walking again, leading Bruce to where you live. If he hates your apartment and leaves and you never see him again that's fine and you'll be able to handle it, right? But that won't happen, so calm down. But if it did happen, you'll be fine and ok and fine. It's fine! Oh fuck, what if you misunderstood him? Did he even mean dinner tonight? Are you embarrassing yourself by assuming he'll come with you right now?

Bruce walks right beside you and starts talking again.

"I'll order. What do you want?" While saying this, he puts an arm around your shoulder. You tense. Woah.

"You said you'd take it slow!" Look at that, you can talk again.

"Too much?" Yes. But also no. But yes. But no.

"I don't know! Maybe?" He takes his arm away and you can breathe again, but somehow at the same time you miss his warmth.

"Don't worry, I'll take it so slow. The slowest. You won't regret dating me, I promise. This'll be so much fun, you'll see." He smiles.

You don't know about that, but you do know that at the very least it'll be interesting. You hope he won't notice you looking up what the definition of dating is on your phone while he's ordering food later.

#bruce wayne x reader #x reader #reader insert #dc x reader #batman x reader #lycheewritings

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luvfae · 2 days ago

Note

Hi! I was wondering if I could request a female reader x Thanos.

What about reader and thanos we’re close before the games both harbouring feelings maybe, but they both have mental health struggles and she is someone who dose things with out thinking of the consequences because she doesn’t care so anyway when they find each other in the games thanos is aware of her tendencies and is like kind of babysitting her.

Like in the first game she makes zero move once she finds out you die and he literally drags her across, and maybe the second game she is always his first choice but she just lays there depressed and cynical and makes sarcastic comments while him and nah gy go around finding team mates or in mingle she makes no move but ofc he always saves her ass, until one night he gives her a rude awakening a harsh pep talk feeling confessing etc. u can put your own spin on it ofc ofc!!

I DON’T CARE

parings: thanos/choi su-bong x f!reader

warnings: swearing, mention of drugs and alcohol, mental health issues, death, blood, typical squid game stuff

You and Thanos had always been a little fucked up.

That’s what made you close.

You met him at a party two years ago—one of those loud, suffocating nights where everyone was either high, drunk, or trying to be. He was leaning against a balcony, smoking, watching the chaos unfold like it was a movie he’d seen a hundred times before.

You had walked up, grabbed the cigarette from his lips, and took a drag without asking.

He had let you.

“You look like you want to jump,” you had said, staring down at the city lights.

He had snorted. “You look like you wouldn’t care if I did.”

That was the start of it.

You weren’t exactly good for each other, but you understood each other. The reckless, self-destructive tendencies. The numbness that came in waves. You never had to explain why you did the things you did—skipping work for days at a time, getting blackout drunk just to feel something, making choices that could ruin you without thinking twice. Because he got it.

And maybe that was why, despite all the tension, all the times you nearly crossed the line from friends to something else, you never did. Because you knew the second you let him have you, you wouldn’t be able to stop.

Then he disappeared.

You heard the rumors—he got into drugs, got into trouble, owed money to the wrong people. You had reached out once, maybe twice, but you never pushed. And eventually, you stopped trying.

Until now.

Until you saw him again.

Your head was pounding. Your body ached. You barely remembered how you got here, only that you had woken up in this fucking tracksuit with the number 067 on your chest and some masked freak telling you to follow the others.

And then—

“No fucking way.”

Your stomach twisted at the sound of his voice.

You turned.

And there he was.

Thanos.

He looked like hell—bruised knuckles, tired eyes, the same cocky smirk that always made you want to punch him in the face.

“Didn’t think I’d see you again,” he said, stepping closer. His gaze flickered over you, as if making sure you were real.

You swallowed. “Yeah. Same.”

Silence stretched between you.

Then he snorted. “I should’ve known you’d end up in some fucked-up shit like this.”

You crossed your arms. “Takes one to know one.”

He huffed a laugh, but there was something behind it. Something tight. Something that made your chest ache.

“How bad?” you asked, voice quieter.

His jaw tensed. “Bad.”

You nodded.

He nodded back.

You didn’t need to say more.

Because he knew what you were asking. And you knew what he wasn’t saying.

And when the sirens blared, when you were herded outside for the first game, when the blood started spilling and the bodies started dropping, you froze.

Gunshots rang out. Bodies collapsed. Screams filled the air, and yet you just stood there, frozen.

You weren’t scared. No, fear would mean you actually cared about living. You simply didn’t see the point. What was the point?

You stood there, staring at the massive doll, blinking slowly as the words “Green Light” echoed in the cold air.

Around you, people were rushing forward, sprinting, their eyes wide with desperation. The tension was palpable, the sound of rapid heartbeats almost deafening as they tried to make it to the end before the next “Red Light.”

You weren’t scared. You weren’t anything. Just numb.

You could hear it—the gasps of fear, the thud of bodies hitting the ground, and then—gunshots.

Someone screamed.

But still, you didn’t move.

The moment it hit you, like a wave crashing over a brittle shore, was that you weren’t just standing still because you were numb. You were standing still because it didn’t matter. If you died here, it wouldn’t matter. If you made it out, what would it change?

Nothing. Everything was pointless.

And that’s when you felt it—Thanos’s hand, strong and relentless, grabbing your wrist, yanking you forward.

“The fuck are you doing?” His voice was a low hiss, filled with fury, but his grip on you didn’t loosen.

Your feet stumbled as you were dragged, fighting for balance. Your mind was foggy, distant, numb to the fear that gripped everyone else. The bloodshed, the screams, the flashing lights—it was like you were standing outside of it all, watching it happen to someone else.

“Move!” Thanos barked, his fingers digging into your skin.

You tried to jerk away, feeling the weight of his grip only tightening.

“I—” You blinked, but your voice felt hollow. “I don’t care.”

The next whistle blew.

Your body jerked with the momentum of his tug, and for a moment, you didn’t feel the ground under your feet. Thanos’s arm wrapped around your waist, lifting you, pulling you through the crowd of bodies that were tumbling and falling like leaves in a storm.

Gunshots rang out in the background. You could see it now—people, falling. Bodies collapsing like ragdolls.

But you didn’t care.

“You wanna die?” Thanos’s voice was harsh, just an inch from your ear, filled with raw anger.

You blinked slowly. “I don’t care,” you repeated, though the words felt strange in your mouth. Almost like a lie you’d told yourself for so long that you’d forgotten what it really meant.

Thanos’s grip tightened. He wasn’t listening, not to your words. He wasn’t letting you slip into that void again. His eyes were wide, jaw clenched, the muscle in his neck pulsing with barely contained frustration. The whistle blew again.

“Shut the fuck up,” he muttered, lifting you off your feet entirely now, dragging you forward like you weighed nothing.

He didn’t give you a choice. He didn’t care that you didn’t care. He was going to keep you alive, even if it meant forcing you to fight against the numbness that consumed you.

By the time the countdown ended, you were nearly at the finish line. Your heart thudded in your chest—not from fear, not from adrenaline, but because of the strange, foreign sensation of being pulled back from the edge.

Thanos pushed you across the line. He was breathless, chest heaving from the physical strain of pulling you. His grip on your waist loosened only when the game ended, and the crowd’s screams faded.

When it was over, when the air cleared, you leaned back against the cold wall, your body sliding down to the ground, exhaustion settling in.

Thanos stood there, staring at you, chest heaving in rhythm with yours. His eyes narrowed with something dangerous, something you hadn’t seen before. Something deeper than anger.

“You’re fucking crazy,” he spat, but it lacked the usual humor.

You didn’t answer. You just sat there, staring at the floor. The adrenaline was leaving your system, and all you had left was the heaviness of everything—the gunshots, the blood, the screams.

“I don’t care,” you whispered, almost to yourself.

Thanos crouched in front of you, eyes intense, searching your face for something he didn’t know how to find. Something that he needed to fix.

“No,” he snapped, his hand reaching out to grip your chin, forcing you to look at him. “We’re not doing this. Not anymore.”

His fingers dug into your skin, the intensity in his gaze so powerful that you couldn’t look away, even though part of you wanted to. His voice softened, but there was no less fire in it. “I won’t let you throw yourself away.”

Your chest tightened. Something deep inside of you stirred, but it was fleeting. You felt vulnerable, stripped bare in front of him.

“I won’t let you die,” he muttered, more to himself than to you, his thumb gently brushing over your skin like it could erase everything you were running from.

You felt the ache in your chest then, the crack that began to form from the pressure of his words. The weight of his care.

And for a second, just a second, it felt like you were actually seen.

—

The next day when the guards announced the next game, you didn’t bother to move. You just sat there, your arms resting on your knees, watching the other players scramble to form teams, trying to sort out the chaos of who was going to be their partner. You could hear the shuffling of feet, the anxious whispers, the desperation in every movement. But none of it touched you. You were past it.

“Get up.”

Thanos’s voice cut through the haze of indifference surrounding you. He was standing over you, his arms crossed, his eyes narrowed.

You didn’t respond right away. Instead, you tilted your head back, staring at the high ceiling above, your mind drifting. He could wait.

“I’m not asking, sweetheart.” His voice was firm now, sharp like a warning. “Get up.”

You sighed, the weight of the world pressing on your chest. This wasn’t even the worst of it. You glanced at him briefly, and for a second, something flickered in your chest—a feeling, a pulse of something that made you almost want to smile. Almost.

You dragged yourself up from the floor with exaggerated slowness, not bothering to hide the way your limbs felt heavy, as if your body didn’t belong to you anymore. The sound of the other players forming teams, their voices blending into the background, became distant.

Thanos didn’t wait for you to make a move. His hand shot out, grabbing your wrist, pulling you with him toward the group that was gathering to select their partners.

“You’re with me,” he said, without asking, without giving you any say in it. His words weren’t a request—they were a demand.

You raised an eyebrow, raising your free hand to smooth your hair back. “Thanos, you need five people, not just one. Go find your three others.”

He didn’t even look at you as he grunted. “Get up. We’re doing this.”

You weren’t sure why it annoyed you. Maybe it was the way he thought he could just make decisions for you like that, or maybe it was the fact that you didn’t want to give a shit about anything anymore. But instead of arguing, you flopped back against the wall, letting out a deep sigh. “You’re so bossy.”

“I swear, if you don’t—”

“You’ll what?” you asked lazily, watching the other players scramble like rats. “Let me die?”

He stared at you, jaw clenched, clearly fighting the urge to snap at you. You saw the anger flaring in his eyes, the protective instinct swirling beneath the surface. But he said nothing. He didn’t yell at you. He just turned and walked away, a look of frustration flashing across his face.

It was strange. Normally, you’d see that and feel some sick satisfaction. But today, it left you empty, like the familiar edge of tension between you and him had dulled.

After a few moments, he came back. You didn’t look up from where you were sprawled on the floor, your legs stretched out in front of you.

Thanos took the spot next to you. He didn’t say anything. He just sat there, silent, his eyes scanning the group. You could tell he was waiting for you to make a move, to show some sign that you were still capable of caring about something.

But you didn’t. You didn’t move.

And maybe that was why, when he spoke again, his voice was softer, quieter. “Come on. We’ve got to find one more person.”

You didn’t answer him. You just kept staring ahead, your eyes unfocused.

Thanos cursed under his breath. “Fine. Stay here. I don’t give a shit. But we’re playing this fucking game.”

When you didn’t react, he stood up, dragging a reluctant Nam-Gyu over to form the rest of the team. You could hear them talking quietly for a moment, but it barely registered in your head.

You hadn’t realized how much it hurt, how much the detachment had taken a toll on you, until you felt him next to you again, the weight of his presence a reminder that something—someone—still cared.

It was just a fleeting moment, but it stung.

“You with me or what?”

You finally looked up at him. The frustration in his eyes hadn’t faded, but there was something else there, something deeper, almost like he was begging you to show up.

You stood without a word, dusting yourself off as you followed him to the designated area.

Thanos didn’t say anything else as the game began. He just watched you, his eyes never leaving you as you moved through the tasks. His hands were steady, precise, but every time you stumbled, he was there to catch you. His grip on your arm was always firm, as if he were trying to anchor you to this world, to this moment where you were still alive.

Every time you fell behind, he didn’t yell. He didn’t berate you. He just pulled you up and kept you going.

And for the first time in a long while, you didn’t feel like you were fighting the game. You weren’t fighting him either.

You were fighting with him.

And as the game stretched on, the realization hit you: this wasn’t just about survival anymore. Thanos wasn’t just keeping you alive because of some unspoken duty or because he had no other choice.

He was doing it because he wanted to.

You couldn’t quite understand it, but you didn’t mind it. Not anymore.

—

The next game felt like a cruel joke.

You stood at the edge of the group, your mind numb to the urgency that seemed to swallow the others whole. The guards had explained the rules—nothing complicated, just survival—yet your body remained unmoving, despite the chaos unfolding around you.

Most of the players immediately scrambled, eyes wide, feet shuffling as they sought safety. You could hear the hurried breaths of your fellow players, the scrape of shoes against the concrete floor, the soft sounds of bodies rushing and tumbling in all directions. Yet, you just… didn’t care.

Everyone else seemed like they were fighting for their lives, but you?

You were waiting for it all to end.

And then, just like that, you felt the heat of a body next to yours. His scent—leather, sweat, something familiar—struck you before you even saw him.

“Nope,” Thanos muttered under his breath as his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist before you could even process what was happening.

You blinked, the numbness in your mind finally starting to fade as he yanked you toward him, pulling you into his space like he’d done countless times before. “Not today,” he said firmly, his voice low with that undercurrent of protectiveness that you had come to know so well.

You didn’t fight him. Not this time. His grip was strong, secure, and for once, you allowed yourself to lean into it. You didn’t want to make the effort to run or find a spot of safety. So you didn’t.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you muttered, looking up at him, your voice quieter than you intended.

Thanos glanced down at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Yes, I fucking did,” he replied, his tone hard, his grip never faltering.

You stayed quiet as he pulled you into an empty room, positioning you closer to the wall, where the guards couldn’t reach as easily if for some reason they decided to kill you. But it was more than that—he was keeping you close, making sure no one else could get too near, too close.

You hated how much it comforted you.

The minutes ticked by, the guards’ voices harsh in the background, and still, you stood there, pressed against him. His body was warm, solid, like a shield. You didn’t think about how strange it felt to have him act like this—to be the one protecting you. No, you just let him, because for once, it felt like you had a reason to stay.

You weren’t sure how much time passed, but it was enough for the panic to begin to settle. Enough for you to breathe again. You weren’t entirely safe, not yet. But for the first time in days, you weren’t just surviving; you were simply existing.

And it felt like an eternity before the sirens sounded, signaling the end of the game. The crowd around you began to move, restless and relieved.

Thanos released his hold on you just slightly, but he didn’t step away. His fingers lingered for a moment before dropping to his side.

“Think you can make it on your own?” His voice was quieter now, laced with something you couldn’t quite place.

You blinked, suddenly aware of how close the two of you still were, the heat between you both suddenly charging the air in a way that made your chest tighten.

“Maybe,” you muttered, looking away. “But you’re not exactly a bad guy to have around.”

Thanos snorted, a dark humor creeping into his voice. “Don’t get used to it.”

But you could feel his eyes on you, and despite everything—despite the absurdity of it all—you felt something inside shift. The games weren’t over, but something between you and Thanos had already changed.

And you weren’t sure if you could go back.

—

That night, Thanos snapped.

“I can’t keep babysitting you,” he growled, pacing in front of you.

You sat on the floor, arms wrapped around your knees, staring ahead blankly. “I never asked you to.”

He let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah? Then what, I should’ve let you fucking die?”

You didn’t answer.

That only pissed him off more.

“You act like nothing matters. Like you don’t give a shit if you live or die. But guess what, sweetheart?” He crouched in front of you, gripping your chin, forcing your eyes on him.

“I give a shit.”

Your breath caught.

He shook his head. “I don’t know what the fuck happened to you. I don’t know why you’re like this. But you do not get to throw yourself away.” His voice dropped lower. “Not when I—”

His grip faltered. His expression twisted.

Not when I care about you.

The words never came, but you felt them.

Something deep inside you cracked.

You swallowed hard. Your throat burned. Your chest ached. The weight of his words, of everything you’d been avoiding, came crashing down on you all at once.

For the first time in days, you felt something.

And you weren’t sure if that terrified you more than the games themselves.

But one thing was clear.

For Thanos, you’d try.

Even if you didn’t know how.

Something had changed.

It was subtle, but it was there.

Thanos didn’t say anything after that night—no more lectures, no more scolding. He just sat with you in the dark, his shoulder pressed against yours, and let the silence stretch between you.

But you could feel it. The weight of his words. The rawness in his voice when he said, I give a shit.

And maybe, just maybe, you had started to give a shit too.

Because the next morning, when the guards announced the next game, you didn’t drag your feet. You stood up. You followed. You let Thanos find you in the crowd without him having to pull you by the wrist.

You saw the way he looked at you—like he noticed the change, like he was waiting for you to slip back into that numb, hollow state again.

You didn’t.

Not yet.

#squid game #thanos angst #thanos x reader #thanos #player 230 angst #player 230 x reader #player 230 #choi su bong angst #choi su bong #choi su bong x reader

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livwritesstuff · 2 days ago

Text

happy valentine's day pallies <3 threw this the office-inspired drabble together for funsies over the last few days and thought today was a good a day as any to finally post

“What the hell is wrong with Dustin?” Eddie asked as he walked through the open door to Robin and Nancy’s apartment, “I passed him in the hall and he’s ranting and raving like a goddamn lunatic. Barely even acknowledged me.”

“You got lucky,” Steve shook his head as the rest of the Party, scattered around the living room, gave a similarly over it-kind of response, “Also – hey. Missed you.”

Eddie dropped down onto the couch next to Steve and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Ugh,” Robin groaned from the other end of the couch, “Either get a room or be gross later.”

“Missed you more, my love,” Eddie said loudly and pointedly as he settled in, and Steve ignored the way Robin rolled her eyes as Eddie draped an arm over his shoulders, “So…Dustin? What’s his deal?”

“He thinks he’s never gonna find love,” Lucas said from his spot on the rug, mouth full of half-crunched chips.

“Because he hasn’t dated anyone since Suzie,” Will clarified.

Steve watched Eddie’s eyebrows furrow.

“Uh, okay, didn’t they split, like, a month ago?”

“Yep,” Mike nodded.

“And didn’t Dustin just say last week that he’s happily married to his studies?”

“Dude,” Mike replied, “If you hadn’t been thirty minutes late, you would have seen us ask him these exact same questions.”

“Alright, gimme a fuckin’ break, man,” Eddie protested as Robin stuck a foot out and clipped the side of Mike’s head, “Not all of us are in college, asshole, living our most carefree lives. Some of us have jobs we're societally obligated to hold onto, Michael.”

“Anyway,” Steve cut in before Mike and Eddie’s bickering could derail the discussion too badly, “Dustin is apparently so desperate for love or whatever now that he’s trying to crowdsource a relationship.”

“And we’ve all been drafted,” Max said drily, “He wants us to set him up with someone at least once a month.”

“Each,” El added from beside Max in the armchair they're squashed in together.

“Each,” Max repeated with a nod.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie blinked, “He needs to chill out.”

Eddie got a chorus of agreements in response, plus another snarky comment from Mike about how he could have told Dustin this himself if he hadn’t been late to their weekly movie night hangout, and then from there, the conversation spun into the Party’s usual overlapping pre-movie (waiting for the pizza to be delivered) chatter.

Eddie turned his attention to Steve.

“So who’s the lucky girl you’re siccing our deranged little buddy on?” he asked, voice just loud enough for Steve to hear over the surrounding conversations.

“I dunno,” Steve shrugged, catching Eddie's hand in his and starting to fiddle with the chunky ring on his pointer finger, “I don’t think anyone here is gonna put up with his shit, but…yeah, I dunno, I feel bad. I might try setting him up with Lauren – y’know, Andie’s friend she has over all the time?”

Andie is Steve’s roommate, who took Robin’s spot on the lease after Robin, the woman she is, U-Hauled with Nancy at a spectacular rate (barely a month into her and Steve’s lease). Steve couldn’t exactly blame her – Nancy’s brownstone is leagues (and leagues and leagues and leagues) nicer than the shitty walk-up he and Robin had barely been able to afford at the time. Plus, Robin was all kinds of apologetic about it – paid her half of the rent and everything until she found a suitable subletter.

Enter Andie, a women’s and gender studies major who Robin had met at their school’s SGA during her first semester of undergrad and who leans pretty much as far to the right on the good ol' Kinsey Scale as someone could. Both Steve and Andie had been a little on the fence at first, but as far as living with a half-stranger goes, he can admit that it actually went okay.

Case in point, he and Andie are both a good few years out of college now and neither of them have made any move to, y'know...move.

“Lauren?” Eddie repeated, “You mean, Andie’s straight friend? The one Andie is very actively and overtly trying to woo?”

“It’s not gonna work,” Steve insisted (because this has been a topic of conversation between the two of them for a while), “If she’s straight, she’s straight.”

“Well, yeah,” Eddie acknowledged, “But it’s not her I'd be worried about, Stevie.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“C’mon, Steve – it’s basically a lose-lose for you. If Dustin goes on a date with Andie’s straight friend that she is, once again, very overtly and obviously into, whether or not it goes well – whether or not it even happens, Steve – Andie’s gonna find out that you were the one behind it, and you’re living with her.”

“So?”

“Dude, you’re gonna get booted outta your place.”

“No way,” Steve scoffed at him.

“I’m telling you – hell hath no fury like a lesbian scorned. Have you seen Nancy at the bar when someone is trying to hit on Robin? The big guy in the clouds was cutting from the same cloth when he created these ladies.”

Steve rolled his eyes at his boyfriend's brand of ex-Catholic poetic.

“Well…whatever. It’s just an apartment. If Andie really has an issue…I dunno, I’ll just move.”

Eddie grinned at him.

“Oh really?” he says, “And who do you think’s gonna be taking you in? You’re a crazy neat-freak, you think it’s totally appropriate to watch sports during breakfast – I mean, seriously, I get wanting to watch Sunday Night Football or whatever, but listening to recaps before I've had a cup of coffee is borderline criminal – and you've got basically a thousand houseplants.”

“Yeah,” Steve gave a feigned nod of understanding, “Maybe I’ll just move in with my boyfriend – he could use some order in his life.”

“Okay,” Eddie said, straightening a little in his seat, “I’m in if you are, Stevie-boy.”

Steve felt his face fall just a little. He tried to laugh it off, but even he could hear how awkward it sounded, and he glanced around to make sure the rest of the Party was otherwise occupied.

“I mean...," he said slowly, keeping his eyes on their hands so he didn't have to look at Eddie and his ever-expressive face, "I’m not gonna move in with someone unless we’re getting married.”

He really won’t either.

He’d done that before with his first serious boyfriend a few years ago – it was kind of a U-Haul situation in its own right, and it’s how Steve’s apartment became Andie’s apartment that Steve pretty please asked to move back into four months later when everything went to shit with the boyfriend.

(Their landlord had raised an eyebrow at them when they asked to put Steve back on the lease he’d only just left, but he didn’t ask any questions.

“He probably thinks we’re, like, a total dysfunctional couple or something,” Andie had pointed out.

“If only he knew,” Steve shook his head, “He’s leasing to a pair of idiot queers who can’t get their love lives together.”)

So, yeah, the U-Hauling thing may work for lesbians (or, two very specific lesbians whose couch he's sitting on, at the very least), but it’s not for Steve.

He’s a little too intense for it, contradictory as it sounds. He’s been burned in the past by the notion that someone could be willing to take a step as big as moving in with someone, and yet still see their relationship as “unserious” enough to balk at other big things (things like meeting each other’s friends and family, and what to do if Steve had another seizure). He’s not interested in being burned again, thanks.

Not that he actually thinks Eddie would do anything like that – the opposite actually. Steve knows he won’t.

For as long as he and Eddie were friends, Steve had known it in a kind of way he didn't even think about, and he's known it in another way, in a way he couldn't not think about, ever since he eavesdropped on a conversation between Robin and Eddie.

“Steve’s boyfriend is a fucking asshole and I hate him,” Robin had said, because this was back when Steve was dating (and living with) his ex, who did turn out to be a colossal fucking asshole, but this was the first time Steve had heard that particular opinion voiced by one of his friends.

“Shit, okay," Eddie had replied, "Do I need to go kick someone’s ass?”

Robin had paused for a split second before saying, “No. You’d just finally decide to confess your love for him and make everything even messier than it already is.”

They'd both been quiet for another few moments, and then Eddie let out a frustrated sigh.

"Fuck, man, that blows." Another pause. "I just – I don't understand how anybody could get to have Steve like that and not worship every breath he takes. I'm telling you – if it were me, you'd be able to break me down into fuckin' molecules and still be able to find him there. He's the sun in the fuckin' sky, dude. How are people not getting this?"

Steve hadn't been able take any more than that, not without feeling like something within him would split in two, so he had gone back to getting snacks in the kitchen like Eddie and Robin had thought he was doing, and then he'd spent the rest of the night feeling a little nauseous in a way he couldn't explain.

To this day, Steve is pretty sure that neither Robin nor Eddie know that he'd overheard their conversation, but it's what led to him breaking up with his boyfriend nonetheless.

Nothing had happened between Steve and Eddie at first. Eddie had actually been in his own relationship at the time, despite his and Robin' conversation, though they inexplicably split only a month after Steve’s break-up (Eddie never gave the Party a reason why).

Not too long after that though, Eddie had shown up on Steve’s doorstep (in a goddamn rainstorm, no less, the theatrical bastard) to profess his undying love, and by then Steve had spent enough time reflecting on the last several years of his friendship with Eddie and had firmly landed on the conclusion that he was in love with him too.

And so here they are now.

Steve spared a quick glance at Eddie to see that he was wearing a cute, kind of confused look.

“Wait – Steve, have I not proposed to you yet?”

And Eddie's truly dumbfounded tone, Eddie's way of bringing Steve's attention back up to his face so Steve could see the cheeky grin he's still wearing, had relief flooding through Steve's veins and washing away any doubt or insecurity or fear because, as Steve might have let himself forget, this is Eddie.

“I don’t think so…” Steve replied, then he flipped their clasped hands over to show his unmistakably ringless ring finger, “Nope.”

“Huh. Well…look out, Stevie, ‘cuz that’s coming.”

“Oh really?” Steve asked, and now he’s got a big smile growing on his face too, and he ignored the way his heart was thrumming over what Eddie had just divulged to him, how matter-of-fact, how certain he'd sounded when he said it.

“Uh-huh,” Eddie nodded, and Steve is so in love with him it nearly hurts.

“You mean, like, right now?” Steve continued, still feigning confusion, still keeping up the bit like they weren't having a huge, important, real conversation right now, because they hadn’t been together that long, all things considered, and yet Steve wasn’t surprised to hear any of this because he felt it too.

Eddie rolled his eyes, “Not right now. Have a little faith, darling. Now would be pathetically unromantic.”

“Hmm,” Steve hummed his agreement, though a small part of him could acknowledge that now – happy and surrounded by all their friends – wouldn’t be the worst way to get engaged, but Eddie hadn't lost any of his flair for dramatics over the years, so he's not exactly surprised to hear that Eddie is picturing something more.

“I got it all planned out, don’t you worry," Eddie told him, looking all kinds of proud, “And it’s gonna knock your socks off, Steve Harrington.”

"Alright," Steve said as Eddie leaned away, leaned back into conversation with their friends, a tight squeeze to Steve's hand his only acknowledgement of the sheer magnitude of the conversation they'd just had, "I've been warned."

#andie does not kick steve out #and eddie proceeds to fake-propose to steve at every opportunity for a full year #i realize that this unfortunately makes dustin the *michael scott* of the situation #apologies to dustin #it had to be done #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson

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green4allseasons · 2 days ago

Text

The lights to the townhome are mostly out… save for the single lamp in the window. And Jason’s heart warms at the shallow glow because that means somehow he’d known that Jason would be returning tonight.

Somehow he always knows.

Jason walks the motorbike the final block to the house. The thing is loud, which he usually enjoys. But tonight… he doesn’t want to run the risk of waking any sleeping occupants. So instead, he quietly stashes the bike beside the garage and hoofs it to the front door, pulling out a key that had been made specifically for him.

He loves the way the townhouse welcomes him home. How, although it belongs to someone else on paper, as soon as he steps through the door it greets him as if he's always belonged there too.

On the crooked end table with a single glowing lamp, there's a stack of books that he recently finished reading from the library, all long overdue. And his jackets... those are all neatly hanging from the coat hanger while another's lay stale and untouched in an ever-growing heap on the floor.

Even the fridge is marked with his presence, occupied with tupperware full of stir fry. His recipe... though it had been made by someone else in his absence.

And technically, he could go to his room. Tim had made sure that he knew that it always belonged to him. Even from the very beginning.

So at first Jason considers it. The door’s wide open and waiting for him. And it’s what he usually does when he gets into town late; they’re considerate of each other’s sleep schedule like that.

But... it’s Valentine's Day. Or it was Valentine's Day, he thinks, looking down at his watch and seeing the short hand point at the 2:00. And while Jason’s not a sap for all that capitalist bullshit, he finds himself teetering on his feet in front of his doorway, side-eyeing his bed that looks so cold and lonely in the dark.

“Fuck it,” he decides, turning on his heels and striding into the room across from his. Timmy might get a little pissy about being woken up but he’d just have to live with it for one night. It’s Valentine's Day, or was… and god dammit if Jason isn't feeling a little sentimental. Sue him.

He sounds a lot tougher in his mind, but his actions tell a different story as he slowly nudges the door open, cringing at the resulting creak of old hinges. Had it always been so loud?

Of course, Tim startles, his eyes blearily opening, the pupils constricting at the sudden light. “Jay?” he asks, “Everything okay?”

Jason feels instantly bad. Like he said, they never do this, not unless something’s wrong. So Tim’s instant concern isn’t totally baseless. Usually they give each other a day to adjust to the timezones and whatnot before inexplicably finding themselves in each other’s beds. Intertwined for however long they're both in town… which isn’t as often as either of them would like.

“Yeah, all good, just…” Jason pauses, a little embarrassed to say the words out loud. He was really counting on Tim being asleep. And goddammit, the little smile that crawls across Tim’s face makes him want to bury his head in a hole.

“I didn’t take you for a Valentine’s sort of guy,” Tim teases, that little sleepy smirk so fucking annoying. And yet, Jason feels himself unraveling in ways that he can’t put words to.

He swears, “...Just scoot over, will you?”

Tim lets out a small laugh but opens the covers anyway. Jason’d already showered at his new safehouse so he doesn’t feel bad as he crawls into the sheets. But he doesn’t think Tim would mind either way.

Tim doesn’t turn around, preferring to face Jason as he lays his head back down. They could only manage to fit a twin mattress in the room so it forces them to shift close. Jason sure as hell doesn’t care as their foreheads touch on their shared pillow.

And god, if Jason doesn’t feel like a man with his whole world in his hands. Tim’s warmth so all encompassing that slowly he feels the tension in his muscles lessen, unwinding with every breath that flutters against his cheek. Tim’s breath is still minty from brushing, giving away that he’d probably stayed up too late… again.

Sighing, Jason settles his hand on Tim’s cheek, adoring the contrasting sensations of the impossibly soft skin under Tim’s eyes and the rough stubble over his jawline. Just another indicator that he’d been working too hard.

Ah well, it just means that Jason needs to stay longer this time.

Jason’s fingers rest against Tim’s jawline before he grips gently, using the leverage to press their foreheads together.

“I missed you,” he breathes, holding back so much more that he want’s to say because it’s late, and Tim’s tired, and he doesn’t get enough sleep these days as is.

And really? All that Jason wants to say has been said before and can be said again once morning comes.

Jason plans to spend his whole life saying it. A whole life proving how it’s true.

#Jaytim #Valentines Day #Fic snippet #TBATH #This is just all for funnies #The Bird and The Hood

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gearsandhammers · 3 days ago

Text

STONES, LIKE DIAMONDS : VIKTOR X M!READER

synopsis : you're a biology/zoology student at the academy, and you've been placed in the same lab as jayce and viktor. you grow close with the both of them over time, but you have a soft spot for viktor...

warnings / tw : meljayce mentioned , idk how animals work in runeterra so all animals exist there now, grammarly is my beta

pairing : viktor x male reader | m/m

author's notes : hiya! sorry this one took me so long, school hit like a truck this week. anyways, i really liked this concept! like a lot, would you guys want this as like a series or miniseries? if this gets at least 40 ish notes maybe i'll make a second part! anyways, have a great day/night and read!

Heimerdinger had taken you in as one of the very few zoology students at the academy, intrigued by your studies. Despite how large the academy is, they run out of space at some point. So, he placed you in the lab of two of the most brilliant men in Piltover, Jayce and Viktor. You were sort of confused by that since your two lines of research didn't really connect anywhere, but you didn't dare argue with Heimerdinger.

So here you stand in front of the grand lab doors, a box of your lab supplies in your arms and a bag with your textbooks slung over your shoulder. You take a deep breath and push your way through the doors to the lab. The two men in the lab turn towards the door, one sitting at the desk and the other standing at the chalkboard, both of them looking equally exhausted.

You recognize one of them, Jayce, from the posters all around Piltover. From that, you assume the other seated at the desk is Viktor.

"Ah, you must be the student Professor Heimerdinger said would be joining us. Please, come in." Viktor says, motioning for you to come in. You place the box down on the far end of the desk, and walk over to them, shaking their hands and introducing yourself. Your voice quivers, and your hand almost shakes, but you force yourself to gain some semblance of composure. These are going to be your lab... partners, after all.

· ─ ─ ─ < ⟨ ⚙︎ ⟩ > ─ ─ ─ ·

Months pass like minutes, and you get closer to them over time. You spend days and nights in the lab, discussing school, labs, personal things, and everything in between. You spend late nights with them, laughing at how delirious you all are at 3am, trying to finish your work.

"Gods, we should go to sleep," you comment, trying to pick up all of the papers that fell onto the floor in your dazed laughter. Jayce rubs the back of his neck, nodding.

"Yeah, I'm probably gonna head back to mine. Mel's probably waiting for me." he picks up his bag, stuffing his notebooks into it before slinging it over his shoulder. "You two get home safe, yeah?" he smiles at you and Viktor.

"Yeah, you too. Say hi to Mel for us." You say before he nods, shutting the door behind him, washing you and Viktor into a half-awkward silence. "So, you gonna head home?"

"Eh, yes. Maybe, I don't know if I have anything else I need to get done tonight..." he trails off, sifting through piles of paper, looking for any unfinished notes.

"Do you think I could walk you home...?" You fiddle with your thumbs, looking down at your bag as you organize the papers in it. "I mean, I don't have to, it's just─"

"I'd like that." he interrupts you, putting his notebook into his bag. "I don't have anything else to do, are you ready to go?"

"Oh! Um, yeah, I got all my stuff." You scramble to your feet, pushing your seat in and turning off the desk lamps and your microscope. "Here, let's go." You open the door for him, stepping aside for him to step through, and he thanks you. You close the door behind the two of you, your keys clinking together with your orca keychain as you lock the lab door.

You and him walk back to his apartment, chatting about everything and nothing. He makes a few flirty comments, you brush them off and rule it down to flattery. At some point, you realize you've been staring at him as you walk when you almost walk into a lamppost. He laughs and you rub your arm, embarrassed. You finally make it to his door, and something in your stomach twists as you think about having to walk home alone, without the familiar comfort of his voice. As he unlocks his door, he turns around to you and you jump a bit, snapped out of your thoughts.

"Thank you for walking me home, sir," he teases. You smile at him, before remembering something.

"Oh right, I have something for you! Well, a few things." You dig through your bag, pulling out a small pouch and you open it, pulling out a few smooth, shiny stones. One was golden orange, almost like tiger eye. I saw this one and it reminded me of your eyes." You sift through them, and he looks at you with an expression that's a mix of astonishment and pure infatuation, but you don't notice. You find a few small black ones, and take them, along with the amber one, and put them in his hand. "Those little black ones reminded me of your moles, they were like little constellations in the sand," you explain, smiling, proud of yourself, and just happy to talk about your work.

You finally look up at him, having put the rest of the rocks back in the pouch and into your bag. You make eye contact with him, and you're a bit taken aback by his soft, loving sort of smile. "You're giving me rocks...?"

"Well, basically. Did you know that young gentoo penguins give other penguins stones or pebbles to put in a nest when they find a potential mate in an attempt to impress their desired mate, a lot like humans gifting diamonds or jewelry to a significant other?" you ramble, obviously passionate about your research.

"So, are you saying that I'm a 'potential mate'?" he smirks, turning to put the rocks down on his coffee table, waving for you to come in. You look down at your hands, a little stunned and you take a deep breath before stepping into his house, your hands clutching the strap of your bag.

"I mean, you could think about it like that, but I just saw them and thought of you─ oh, hi, you're very close," you notice he's come closer to you, and you have to lean back to try to give yourself more distance, knowing you'd just melt if he got too close.

"Come, take your coat off. I have some of my own... gifts, to give to you."

#kaisen writes !#arcane fic #arcane x male reader #viktor x male reader #arcane viktor x male reader #arcane x you #arcane #fanfic #viktor x reader #biologist reader #zoologist reader

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ghostgirl-22 · 2 days ago

Note

Not necessarily sexual, but what if Art takes care of Patrick for once?

Patrick is upset over something cruel his father told him and wakes Art up with his sniffling. Patrick never cries so Art is immediately alarmed and tries to get him to open up. Patrick tries to mask his feelings at first, but eventually breaks down and cries into Art’s chest. They fall asleep with Patrick being the little spoon for once, wrapped in Art’s arms.

I chopped this up a lot but I think I got to the core of your ask nonnie <3 Idk why in my head I could see Patrick just being the whacky charming youngest and favorite of his parents. Forgive my typos… happy Valentine’s Day maybe I’m gonna write a valentines fic tomorrow when Valentine’s Day is over. Anyway love y’all.

TW: period typical homophobia, use of a slur, internalized homophobia, otherwise SFW.

——

Patrick does this thing where he acts like nothing gets to him. Like nothing can hurt him. For a while Art was envious because he believed the act. Now he knows better. He sees it now… the way Patrick will smile even more when his eyes are sad. The way he’ll shrug and then fidget, fingertips tapping a fragile rhythm like the physical act of it can divert the pain away. The way he goes quiet.

Still he never saw Patrick cry before this summer. It’s their last summer break before senior year. They’ve been spending at least a few weeks together every summer since they were 12, going back and forth between each other's houses. Patrick’s summer house in Connecticut, Art’s family home in Massachusetts. It was easy. Patrick had the bigger house of course, the bigger bedroom, all the latest game systems, a tennis court. So many places on his family's estate to hang out and explore.

Patrick’s family is a little more complex than Arts though.

It’s no secret Patrick doesn’t get along with his older brother, Levi. Art actually doesn’t like him either. He’s ten years older then them and he’s everything that Patrick isn’t, more smarmy than charming, flashy and pretentious, lording his daddy’s money around and reminding Patrick that it’s his birth right. He’s a lawyer now and already works for their dad’s company. But all it takes is five minutes talking to their tennis loving dad to understand why Levi hates Patrick.

“Tennis is such a beautiful game. I played for years but never came close to what you and Patrick can do on that court.” Patrick’s dad says wistfully. He would often stand courtside to watch them play in the summers.

Levi is no athlete. He doesn’t even like sports and there’s Patrick, the apple of their fathers eye because he can hit a ball with a racket.

If Levi were less of an asshole, Art might actually relate to him. But he’s a total dick. He loves to make it known that Patrick was a ’mistake’. “Mom and dad were perfectly happy with the three of us,” he says of himself and Patrick’s older sisters one Friday night in July.

That clearly bothered Patrick at one point but he’s used to it now. “Yeah and imagine how boring that would’ve been. One lame ass son.” Patrick mutters and Art grins. They’re eating ice cream in the oversized kitchen while Levi lingers at the wine cooler, pouring himself a glass. He watches as Patrick takes some of Art’s ice cream, his gaze cool.

“I’d be careful if I were you Art, you know he’s a fag right?”

Art raises his eyebrows.

“Shut the fuck up,” Patrick snaps.

“Oh, he doesn’t know?” Levi’s eyes light up, gleefully. “Sarah caught him last weekend kissing the pool boy, the help of all people, moaning like a freak.”

“I said shut up,” Patrick says, his voice cold. Art has never seen his cheeks turn so red before.

Levi lets out a cruel little giggle. “Wait till dad finds out you're the fruity one. I’d sleep with one eye open if I were you, Art. You never know, you seem like his type. He might try something.”

“I’ll fucking kill you if you say another word, fucking asshole,” Patrick shouts.

“Don’t worry little brother, I’m sure they love butt boys in pro tennis,” Levi smirks, self satisfied in Art’s direction and takes his glass of wine back to the office where he’s been working.

Art is tongue tied, barely able to make his brain connect to his mouth. He’s feeling all kinds of things, not even sure what half of the things he’s feeling even mean but he knows he’s furious on Patrick’s behalf. He glances at Patrick and that’s all it takes for Art to know what Levi said was true. He’s still red faced, fists clenched, staring angrily at the bowl of ice cream like it was the one who said those horrible things to him. And then he gets up and leaves the kitchen abruptly.

“Wait Patrick,” Art says but he doesn’t stop. Art sighs and gets up following him to the bedroom. He’s several paces behind and when he gets inside Patrick has fallen to the bedroom floor, actually sobbing. Head in his hands. Art can’t believe his eyes. In all the years he’s known him, he’s never seen more than the slight sparkle when his eyes well up tears. If he didn’t before, he really fucking hates Levi now.

He gets down on his knees next to Patrick.

“Art can you go, I need to be alone,” he mutters, chest heaving.

“No,” Art says, he’s not sure how to do this but he wants to be there for Patrick. “He’s a fucking loser. Do you want me to beat his dweeby ass?”

Patrick sniffles a laugh and shakes his head.

“He’s just pissed because…” Art rubs Patrick’s shoulder, a gentle pattern. “Fuck him okay I mean…” He doesn’t know what to say… or why he keeps thinking about the pool boy, Armando, tall, athletic, brown eyes, and long dark blonde hair. He looks and sounds like a surfer, but not from California but whatever beach they have in Spain. Art can’t get him out of his head for some reason.

“It’s true,” Patrick mutters after a while looking up at him. “I think I… I do like boys.”

Art presses his lips together, nodding. “That’s um— that’s okay, man. Uh… remember um… Calvin from the team… Calvin said he uh he kissed a guy before.” He takes a breath. He has to do better than this, but he’s starting to fixate on the color of Patrick’s eyes. He never realized how colorful they were. Now that they’re wet it’s like they sparkle.

”I dont… I would never do anything to you… like… like what my brother was saying okay?” Patrick sniffles.

Art swallows. God now he’s fixating on Patrick’s lips. God damn it. He needs to be fucking normal. Patrick is his best friend for crying out loud. Art wraps his arms around Patrick and closes his eyes. “Fuck him, man. He’s a homophobic asshole. If you’re gay then—”

”I’m not gay…” Patrick says softly. Art can practically feel his voice vibrating in his ear. There’s a strange familiar feeling at the base of his stomach, his instinct is to pull away but he holds on.

“You’re not?” He doesn’t mean to sound relieved, fuck.

“I’m bisexual,” Patrick murmurs. He pulls out of the hug and gets to his feet, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. “I’m just…” he laughs. “I’m a fucking mess. He’s hot and the way he was looking at me in the pool. I brought him to my room and well we just started exploring… I should’ve known we wouldn’t get any privacy here. Sarah just barged into my room and she can’t keep her fucking mouth shut. My dad is… well… I don’t fucking care.” He flops down onto his bed and takes a deep breath.

Art crawls over on his knees. “Does he know?”

“Not yet,” Patrick says, “but he’ll know as soon as he gets back from his business trip. Levi will make sure of that.”

“Well,” Art crawls onto the bed and lies down next to him. “Not if we kill him first.”

Patrick looks at him and then laughs. Art grins, happy to make him smile. He feels warm all of a sudden.

Patrick sighs. “You want to play Mario kart?”

“Yeah.”

They lay down for an hour, only really chatting about the game. Patrick starts to get sleepy, it’s clear he’s still upset. He puts his controller down. Art turns off the game and settles next to him in the dark. His mind has been racing the whole time. Patrick’s never cried in front of him before so it feels like something has shifted.

“My dad isn’t gonna look at me the same,” he laughs but there’s a bitterness in it.

“You don’t… you don’t know that.” Art says gently.

“You think it’s weird, don’t you?” he rolls over to face Art.

“No,” Art says quickly. His parents had always taught him to be accepting of people’s differences. They always supported gay rights. But there was this part of Art that knew that their tolerance was only meant for other people. Unlike Patrick he was the only boy, he was expected to be traditional.

“You’re a bad liar,” Patrick sighs.

“I mean I think I’m just trying to process it. I had no idea and now it’s just…” Art takes a deep breath.

“You really had no idea?”

“Well it’s not like you told me, and you…we always talk about girls.”

Patrick gazes at him. “Fair enough.”

“What’s it like?” The question just spills out of him, he can’t stop himself.

”Hm?”

Now it’s his turn to feel his skin heat up. Why is he so fixated on the stupid kiss? “Sorry it’s not important…never mind. I guess I just figured it’d be different then… uh never mind.”

”It’s a little different but the same in all the ways that matter,” Patrick says. He’s sniffling again. Art licks his lips and scoots closer to him. Patrick looks down, following the movement.

“I could uh… I could show you.”

Art thinks he’s joking and smiles, Patrick holds his gaze a little longer and Art swallows, something all too familiar suddenly thrumming through his body. But it makes no fucking sense. He can’t really be turned on by this. “You’re um… you’re serious?”

Patrick laughs, “God,” he says, shaking his head.

“What?” Art says.

“Nothing, I’m a fucking mess. Can you…hold me until I fall asleep?” It’s Patrick using Art’s own words. Spoken a number of times when they were kids and he’d asked Patrick to do it in his grandmother's place when he was having trouble adjusting to boarding school.

Patrick never told anyone about it, never even made fun of him which was surprising, considering he ribs Art about almost everything. Art isn’t sure what he’s feeling but he nods, “of course,” and lets Patrick settle into his arms. They lie in bed, Art keeping Patrick safe from the world for just a little bit. Inseparable, like two colors bleeding into each other, until they both fall asleep.

#patrick zweig #art donaldson #challengers fic

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umikawa · 21 hours ago

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a/n: omg ANOTHER senku fic?? Sedate me. I went off topic in this fic and didn’t even try to redeem myself so 🙏 writing Stanley next, wish me luck

senku ishigami x gn!reader | no warnings, set at the end of the village origins arc. 970 wc. Lot of dialogue cause that’s just how I roll (｀_´)ゞ

Senku was tired.

Thoughts raced in his mind at a mile a minute, never-ending and constantly sprouting. On paper, he was sure it’d mimic the nervous system. Each thought that crossed his mind bothered him to no bounds, leading him to sleepless nights where he would devise plans for any situation that could happen.

Like how to handle animal attacks like the one with Taiju in the beginning. What to do if there were (somehow) a fish shortage. What the plan was if an unknown settlement comes suddenly to raid the village. What to do if the Tsukasa empire decides to take action first…

For once (more than he’d admit), thinking made his head hurt. A groan leaves his lips as he holds his head in his hands, rubbing his temples in an attempt to soothe himself.

“Another late night?”

He turns around slowly, watching with parted lips as you approach him, a tray with two steaming cups in your hands. “Yeah.” Is all that he can come up with, mouth running dry. He can’t remember the last time he stopped to have a drink.

“You know, for someone as knowledgeable as you, I’d hoped you know that sleeping can be very beneficial to your health.” Senku chuckles at your words, gratefully taking the cup of tea from your hands. “What’s got you so worked up?”

He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, taking a long sip to mask his uncertainty. “I'm just thinking about how this whole thing will play out.” It’s not a lie; he is worried about how everything will go, but it isn’t what he hoped to say. Though, he isn’t too sure what he wanted to say in the first place.

You hum, leaning against the edge of his workbench. Your eyes trail over the mess of scribbles on the papers in front of him to the notable bags under his eyes. “Have faith,” Senku nearly rolls his eyes. “Believe in your comrades, and everything will fall into place.”

He nearly jumps out of his skin at the feeling of your hand holding onto his chin, blinking up at you with wide eyes as you tilt his chin. “You should rest, Senku. A general can’t lead an army with only a wink of sleep.”

He laughs to himself, shutting his eyes as he pulls away from your warm touch. “I know.” Is all he responds with. He knows you're right, but he goes back to the drawing board anyway, ignoring the irregular beating in his chest. “You can go.”

His tone held no malice or annoyance at the blatant dismissal, his words gentle as he cast a glance your way. You’d walked away from the table, standing behind him now, likely to aid him in his next endeavor.

Once again, Senku jolts at the feeling of your touch. Your arms wrap around his waist from behind, your head pressed in the space between his shoulder blades, and your fingers clutch the fabric of his tunic.

“What’s gotten into you?” He asks. Voice strained to keep himself from shouting or worse– trembling.

“Come to bed, Senku.” You’d whispered, pulling on his tunic gently. He sighs, running a hand through his hair as the slightest bit of annoyance builds up.

Not with you, with himself for ignoring his health to the point you were concerned.

“Alright.” He sighs, turning around in your hold. You weaken your grip the slightest. Senku wonders if you thought he’d run away if otherwise. “Don’t worry, I won’t run.”

“You’d better not, " you mumble, releasing him fully. Your hand slips into his, fingers intertwining in place. He felt like they were meant to fit together. Senku quirks a brow. “Just in case. Though I’m sure you wouldn’t be able to get very far with your… stamina.”

He rolls his eyes, allowing you to lead him out of the lab. Twigs and dirt crunch under your steps as you approach his hut. His eyes trailed around the village, and a part of him was praying that no one was awake to see you and him together.

Not that anything was wrong with that– it’d just be another annoyance he’d have to deal with.

Senku blinks down at your intertwined hands. When was the last time he held hands with someone? Did he ever? A flash of Byakuya crosses his mind, and a smidge of sadness crosses his face at the thought–right, when they went to see fireworks.

He figures the look was still etched on his face when you entered his hut. Your hand comes to his face, thumb brushing over his knitted brows. He ignores the touch, his eyes lifting to meet yours.

Instead of asking him what was wrong, as he thought you would, you wordlessly pulled him into you, fingers carding into his hair and ruffling it around. He groans out a noise of protest, frowning at the wide smile on your face.

“There’s something wrong with you,” he says, rolling his eyes when you pinch his cheeks. “Ten billion percent.” You don’t say a word in response, only messing his hair up even more until it falls in front of his eyes. “You’re weird.”

You scoff at the insult, pinching his chin. “Yeah? And what are you, normal?” He nods, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re the craziest guy in this village, Senku. I assure you.” He chuckles at your words, and only then does he realize what you’ve done for him.

Tore him away from his work, successfully relieving him of his stress and calming his mind.

Except his mind wasn’t calm, and a million thoughts swarmed his head the second he locked eyes with you again. Did you always make his heart race when you looked at him?

And when did you get so… pretty?

#senku ishigami x reader #ishigami senku x reader #dcst x reader #dr stone x reader #senku x reader

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just1cefor4ll · 18 hours ago

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— You’re the kind of person they write rock songs about

modern!au Viktor x fem!reader warning. swearing, not proof read, might be OOC

part six || part seven || part eight

A/N. okay ngl this chapter is so shitty but i have serious writers block so i guess this will have to so :P

‘Your beauty is so vain

It drives me, yes, it drives me

absolutely insane.’

You stared at the ceiling, thinking about none other then Viktor. Who else would you be thinking about anyway? He’s been all over your mind for the past month so it’s no surprise he’s still lingering there even in this moment.

You were hanging out at Ekko’s dorm, asking for advice though he wasn’t of much help.

“Oh my fucking god Ekko you’re literally not helping at all.” You groan, putting a hand on your forehead. You sit up, sitting cross legged with Ekko barely paying attention to your paranoid self anymore. “How did you make the first move on Powder?” You ask desperately trying to get any useful advice out of him.

“Alright, listen," Ekko sighed, finally setting his phone down to give you his full attention. "First of all, you’re overthinking this way too much. Second—why are you even stressing? It’s Viktor."

You groaned, flopping back onto his bed dramatically. "That is exactly the problem, Ekko. It’s Viktor. He’s, like.. I don’t know.. him?And I don’t wanna screw this up."

Ekko rolled his eyes. "You’re acting like he’s some impossible riddle to solve."

"He kinda is!" You sat up again, running a hand through your hair. "He’s smart as hell, he overanalyzes everything, and he probably thinks I’m just being friendly whenever I try to flirt."

Ekko snorted. "You are just friendly. You’re terrible at flirting."

"Wow, thanks."

"Just saying," he shrugged. "If you actually wanna make a move, you gotta make it clear. No weird mixed signals. When I made the first move on Powder, I didn’t hesitate. I knew what I wanted, and I went for it."

You raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? And what did you do, Romeo?"

Ekko grinned, leaning back against the wall. "I told her straight-up that I liked her and then kissed her before she could overthink it."

Your eyes widened. "You what?"

"Yeah. No games, no confusion. Just straight to the point."

You stared at him like he had just grown a second head. "That’s insane. I can’t do that."

Ekko sighed dramatically. "Well then, I dunno what to tell you Y/N. If you wanna make a move, you either do it or you don’t. Simple as that."

You chewed on your lip, processing his words. "Okay. Maybe not that bold, but.. I get what you’re saying." “Good." Ekko picked his phone back up. "Now, if you’re done panicking, I’d like to get back to my very important business."

You peeked at his screen—he was watching cat videos.

With a sigh, you stood up. "Fine, fine. I’ll figure it out. But if this goes badly, I’m blaming you." "Yeah, yeah," he waved you off. "Just don’t overthink it. You got this."

You weren’t sure if you believed that yet, but still, you left his dorm with a little more determination than before.

You entered your dorm, opening your phone to text Viktor but it looks like he had thought a bit farther ahead then you had, because right there on your screen was a notification from none other then Viktor.

——————————————————————————

[vik.tor222] Are you free tonight?

[truly.y/n] oh? since when do u make plans?

[vik.tor222] Since I decided to make your night more interesting.

[truly.y/n] bold assumption that you being here is interesting

[vik.tor222] Admit it, you’d be devastated if I didn’t show up.

[truly.y/n] you’re delusional

[vik.tor222] Yet here you are, still replying instantly.

You frowned at your screen. He was getting cocky.

[truly.y/n] hm, what’s the occasion anyway? you bored or just wanna hang out?

[vik.tor222] or maybe i just want to see my favorite rockstar?

You huffed, but your stomach did a little flip.

[truly.y.n] whatever. maybe I don’t want to see you tonight

[vik.tor222] Lying doesn’t suit you, rockstar.

You bit your lip, ignoring the way your face warmed.

[truly.y/n] fine, pow is leaving around 8pm, i was just about to play my guitar so if you’re lucky you might get a free live performance >;D

[vik.tor222] Can’t wait.

——————————————————————————

You rolled your eyes, smiling like an idiot as you set your phone down.

When Viktor arrived, you were already playing your guitar, fingers idly plucking at the strings as you sat cross legged on your bed.

He leaned against the doorframe, watching you with that small, amused smirk of his. "You were serious about the live performance." "Always," you grinned, patting the space beside you. "Come in, take a seat. I promise not to charge you."

Viktor chuckled as he made his way over, sitting beside you on the bed. His cane rested against the nightstand as he settled in, tilting his head slightly as he listened to you play.

"You’re really good," he murmured after a moment.

You shot him a teasing look. "I have a band, Vik. Would be awkward if I sucked." Viktor huffed a laugh. "True. But still—you are impressive." Your heart did that stupid fluttery thing again. "..Thanks."

A comfortable silence followed as you continued to strum softly, just playing whatever came to mind. After a while, you set the guitar down and leaned back on your hands, glancing over at him

“So.. anything new in the lab?” You asked, keeping your voice light. Viktor hummed in thought. "Not really. Other then Jayce almost setting the lab on fire again." He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. You stiffle a laugh, gasping dramatically; “No way!” You say in mock surprise. “Yes.” Viktor shook his head. “I keep telling him, just because something looks stable does not mean it is stable.”

“Classic Jayce.”

“Unfortunately.”

"Why engineering and physics?" you ask suddenly, catching Viktor off guard.

"Hm?" he replies, raising an eyebrow.

You laugh awkwardly, fiddling with your guitar. "I mean, why those majors? Is there a cool backstory, or is it just something you're good at?"

Viktor thinks for a moment before answering. "I've always been fascinated by how things work—like putting together a puzzle. The more I learned, the more I wanted to create things that could change how people live."

You nod. "That makes sense.”

He tilts his head. "What about you? Art, right?"

"Yeah, for me, it's the opposite," you say, smiling. "Art is about creating things that don't necessarily make sense but still feel right."

Viktor considers this, then shrugs. "That sounds freeing." You laugh. "It is, but it’s also a challenge to make it come together. Just like your work, I guess." He nods slowly, a faint smile on his lips. "I get that."

You both fell into easy conversation after that, talking about random things—your band, his research, upcoming gigs, the ridiculous amount of people who had started messaging you online asking for new music.

Eventually, though, you both got tired of talking and decided to put on a movie.

Halfway through, you started to get really comfortable, shifting closer to Viktor. Without thinking too much about it, you leaned against him, resting your head on his shoulder. Viktor didn’t react at first—just a small, sharp inhale before he relaxed under you. Encouraged, you moved a little closer.

Then, in a move that surprised you, Viktor gently pulled you towards him, adjusting you so that you were practically lying against his chest.

Your heart stopped.

You hesitated for a moment before settling against him completely, your cheek resting over his heartbeat. His arm stayed around you, fingers lightly tracing up and down your back.

"You good?" you murmured, peeking up at him.

Viktor exhaled, a small smile playing on his lips. "Hm? Yeah.. m’fine.”

Neither of you moved after that. The movie continued playing in the background, but it barely mattered. The warmth of Viktor’s body, the slow and steady rise and fall of his chest—it was all so.. peaceful.

At some point, your eyes grew heavy, and before you knew it, sleep was tugging you under.

Viktor didn’t say anything when you finally drifted off, but he did let his fingers brush lightly over your arm, holding you just a little closer.

It wasn’t a confession. Not yet.

But it was something. And for now, that was more than enough.

Viktor woke up slowly, warmth pressing into his side, a weight draped over him.

It took a moment for the fog of sleep to clear, for him to register the steady rise and fall of your breathing, your head still tucked against his shoulder, arm loosely curled around him.

His chest tightened.

Carefully, he turned his head, just enough to see your face—eyes shut, lips slightly parted, hair falling messily against his shirt. Peaceful. Unaware of the way you had completely undone him.

His fingers twitched at his side.

He should move. He should.

But for a few more moments, he let himself stay.

How had he let this happen?

How had you managed to slip so effortlessly into his life, into his mind, until the thought of not having you there seemed impossible?

He swallowed.

He needed to tell you.

The thought alone made his pulse quicken, but—God, he couldn’t keep pretending. Not when you were right there, curled against him, like you belonged there.

The door swung open.

Viktor tensed, head snapping toward the entrance just in time to see Powder step inside.

She stopped short.

Eyebrows shot up.

Then, a slow, shit-eating grin.

“Well, well, well.”

Viktor exhaled sharply, already bracing himself.

“This is new,” Powder mused, crossing her arms. “Didn’t take you for a cuddler, lover boy.” Viktor frowned, carefully shifting Y/N’s arm off of him before sitting up. “It was not planned.” Powder’s grin only widened. “Sure it wasn’t.” He shot her a look before grabbing his cane and standing. Powder tilted her head. “So. You gonna tell her?” Viktor’s grip tightened slightly. “..I intend to.” Powder hummed, rocking back on her heels. “Good. ‘Cause I really don’t wanna watch you two keep dancing around each other.” Viktor shook his head, amused despite himself. “Yes, I am aware.”

Powder smirked, stepping aside as he made his way to the door. “Lover boy,” she called after him, just loud enough to make sure he heard it.

He didn’t give her the satisfaction of reacting.

He made his way towards his dorm, his mind full— full of you. This wasn’t new. He had spent too much time thinking about you, about what he felt, about what it meant. But now, after tonight, it wasn’t just in his head. It was real.

His fingers brushed over his phone, hesitating.

It was absurd, really, how fast it had all happened. How easily you had slipped into his life, uninvited, without him even realizing what was happening.

The first time he had ever seen you was at The Last Drop. He can’t imagine how differently his life could’ve went if he hadn’t agreed to Jayce’s constant begging and pestering about him going out and leaving studying behind for just a day.

He didn’t like the idea of being there, not for a bit at least— but then you came up onto that stage and he forgot how to think.

You had been something else entirely. The warm lights caught the curve of your smile perfectly— the easy confidence in the way you moved, the way you just carried yourself was so alluring, he couldn’t resist succumbing to your charm.

He hadn’t been the only one captivated.

That night, they had all been introduced to you. He knew of your existence before then, but that night he got to know you better— the musician, the artist, the lightning storm in human form.

He couldn’t wait to hang out with you again— not sure if that would even happen, but then Vi burst into the room with a text from her sister, that they’d be going to a café that week and that his group was invited. And there you had told him—offhand, casual—how it was your dream venue. How you had always wanted to play there.

And that gave him an idea.

Why had he even done it in the first place? The call? Setting up the entire gig? He wasn’t sure, but something deep inside him told him to do it—and so he did. In his mind, you deserved it. And when he saw the excitement in your eyes? His heart had felt like fireworks bursting on the Fourth of July.

And then—

The cheek kiss.

So quick, so effortless, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

That was when he knew. That was when he realized he was screwed.

And now— Now, he had to do something about it.

The whole damn friend group had been pestering him for weeks. Jayce, Ekko, Isha, Powder—all of them, telling him to stop being an idiot, to tell you.

Viktor exhaled, gripping his phone.

It was late.

Too late for this.

But his hands moved before he could stop himself.

——————————————————————————

[vik.tor222] I like you Y/N

[vik.tor222] like a lot

[vik.tor222] god you’re literally all i can think about you make me insane

[vik.tor222] i love you, rockstar.

——————————————————————————

He set his phone down as soon as he typed the last message, his mind racing with all the possible outcomes. What if you rejected him? What if you laughed in his face, or worse, ignored him completely? What if—

His phone buzzed.

And his mind went blank.

taglist: @erica2024 @lolixsstuff @skullmvncher @startingtoloveyou @astarionapologist @th3stup1dcat @fiveperrcent @fadedpinkpen @noxturnalmoth

#⚖️just1cefor4ll #viktor x reader #arcane viktor x reader #arcane viktor #viktor arcane x reader #viktor x y/n #viktor fanfic #viktor nation #viktor arcane #viktor x you #viktor lol #viktor league of legends #arcane fanfic #arcane fanfiction #arcane x reader #arcane

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nephilimeq · 2 days ago

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Nobody Knows Me Like You

Prompt: Valentine's Day

@bucktommyfluffebruary

A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62721625/chapters/161567005

“Okay, this is getting ridiculous,” Howie muttered as Tommy swept past him to put his phone in front of Maddie, showing her the blender he’d found, saying, “So this is what I was thinking about, but I’m still not sure if Evan will like it,” feeling a flicker of apprehension as he tried to figure out what to buy for his boyfriend for Valentine’s Day.

Oddly enough, it was their first one. They had been together for six months and then had broken up for a few months—during which had been over Christmas and Valentine’s—which meant that they were celebrating together for the first time, and he had never been more nervous in his life. He had to find Evan something perfect. It needed to say that he knew him, loved him, and wanted to show him that he was planning on keeping him in his life for as long as he could…

…but without buying him a ring.

At least, not yet.

“It’s…nice,” Maddie said, sipping at her tea, and Tommy groaned and dropped his head to the counter with his arms out in front of him, holding onto his phone rather pathetically.

“Ugh, I’m gonna end up not getting anything for him at this rate,” he muttered. “Valentine’s day is in four days, and I still don’t have anything for him! Flowers and chocolate are too cliche. Jewelry is too much, a stuffed animal is too childish,” he began to list. “Clothes are too impersonal, a mixed tape or cd is too juvenile, fixing his car is something I would do anyway, and something handmade from me is like a 911 call just waiting to happen.”

At that, Howie laughed and interjected, “God, you’re pathetic! Look, you wanna know what to get him? I’ll tell you, but you’ll owe me…”

Tommy looked at his friend and simply let out a long sigh.

“You know what, I don’t care what I have to owe you, just help me…please.”

He knew he looked and sounded pathetic, but the airman no longer cared about saving face—all he cared about was getting Evan something that would make him happy. And if that meant owing one of his best friends an unknown favor, then so be it.

Howie then gave him an unnerving grin and said, “You’re gonna love this…”

Buck was scrambling. It was only three days before his first time celebrating Valentine’s Day with his boyfriend and he was terrified he was about to fuck it all up.

“I’m telling you, Eddie, I don’t know what to do!” he whined, and his friend rolled his eyes and said, “It’s just Valentine’s, man! It’s a commercialized holiday! I mean, sure, I’m a romantic at heart, but I’m also a pragmatist, and so is Tommy. He won’t take it personally if you don’t get him the ‘perfect’ gift, you know.”

He stared at his friend, trying to figure out why Eddie was being so blasé about the entire thing.

Buck was at his wit’s end trying to figure out what to get Tommy.

Helping Eddie with the hose, he explained, “Look, you need to understand that the two of us are celebrating our first Valentine’s Day together, despite us already living together, so it feels really different, you know? Instead of the low stakes of a first Valentine’s like most couples get to have, it’s more than that because we’ve been through so much already and we’re living together!” He tugged the last bit of the hose with a bit more force than necessary to emphasize his point. “Do you get that?”

“Okay, yeah, I kinda see your side of this,” his friend conceded…but then he added, “But at the same time, is there even a real reason to worry all that much? I mean, because you’ve been through so much together, you know you love each other, and so anything you can think of will surely be enough…”

Ugh. He hated it when Eddie made a good point.

He rolled his eyes and followed him into the rig, the warehouse fire put out behind them—and then had to deal with Chim and Hen attempting to give him advice on the way back, and he regretted ever opening his mouth.

“If you wanna get him something special, you could always go for some new cleaning supplies for his car,” Hen suggested, and Buck glared at her and replied, “It’s Valentine’s Day, not a random Saturday afternoon, Hen. That’s really the best you can come up with?”, which earned him a hard glare and Chimney suggesting, “What about a gift certificate to one of his favorite restaurants?”, which wasn’t a bad idea, per se, but it also felt a bit cheap considering he could probably cook him a better meal at home.

Deciding to incur the ire of another friend, however, he said, “Eh, maybe,” and decided to drop it.

Tommy stared at the wall of chocolate in front of him, wondering what Evan would like the most, feeling a rush of insecurity as he tried to decide between four different types of dark chocolate, feeling like a cheapskate because he genuinely couldn’t think of anything else.

Howie had told him what to get Evan—and he’d bought it—but it still didn’t feel like enough.

Actually, he wondered if his friend was pulling his leg because what he’d bought him had been far too simple and easy (though not something he would have thought of on his own), and so there the airman stood in the middle of the aisle of some fancy chocolatier shop in downtown L.A. that he had heard about through Sal’s wife, Maria. He had complained enough to Sal, that he had apparently complained to his wife, and she had called him earlier that day while on shift and told him about the place.

He stared down at the 72% dark chocolate bars, the aisle split up by percentages, and debated which flavor Evan would like the best.

The ones with chile and lime definitely seemed like something he would like…but then there was the blood orange, the blackberry medley, and the chicory, too…

…and Tommy finally snapped and got one of each, wincing as he thought of how much it was going to cost him. Four chocolate bars from this place was the equivalent of almost three quarters of a tank of gas and seemed wasteful—but he knew that Evan would at least appreciate the gesture, if nothing else.

“This better be worth it,” he muttered under his breath as he made his way to the register.

A minute later he was done, and he let out a sigh of relief as he got back into his truck and then headed back home. It was odd to go out and do things without his boyfriend now that they lived together, and he felt a faint tugging in his chest at the thought that he now had someone to come home to—though not at the moment, as Evan was still on shift and wouldn’t be home for a couple of hours, which gave him just enough time to wrap the chocolate bars and hide them away.

The second he walked through the front door, however, his phone rang.

“Hello?” he said, tucking the phone between his cheek and shoulder as he locked the door behind him, and a voice said, “Hey, Tommy. Have you already bought Buck his Valentine’s Day present?”

Eddie.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, he answered, “Yes, I have. Now, why are you really calling me?” as he shuffled the items around in his hands so he could talk to him without dropping anything, already moving towards the closet where he kept the gift wrapping, and his friend replied, “Your boyfriend is panicking. Doesn’t know what to get you, so he’s been asking all of us for ideas, and I think he’s still sorta…you know…freaking out in the way that only Buck can freak out…”

Of course, he was, he thought to himself, feeling a flicker of concern over his boyfriend’s state of mind, wishing he wouldn’t worry so much. Tommy honestly didn’t want anything, he just wanted to spend the day with Evan and enjoy the fact that they had each other.

“Of course, he is. What else would he be doing?” he said, putting a pink and red bag onto the counter and pulling out a random pile of white tissue paper, automatically wrapping as he continued to talk on the phone.

Eddie chuckled.

“Yeah, you know Buck—but at the same time, it’s kinda cute seeing him all worked up about what to get you. So, I’m biting the bullet and asking: what do you want?” he pressed, and Tommy could hear in his tone that he was being serious and was trying to do his friend a solid…and he felt rather useless as he admitted, “I just want to spend the day with him. Wrap him up in my arms and forget the world for a while, you know?”

There was a long pause, and he was suddenly afraid he had said too much.

…but then Eddie said, “Yeah, I get that, but still: what do you want?”

“Okay, you’re sure this is the right thing to get him?” Buck asked, shooting a glance at Eddie over his shoulder as they stood in front of the array of flowers in the flower shop, and his friend let out an exasperated sigh and rolled his head on his shoulders.

“For the hundredth time, yes! Now, will you just pick one so we can go? Also, why am I here for this?” he said as he reached out and looked closely at one of the tags on a bundle of roses, shaking his head.

Buck gave his friend a look.

“You’re here for this because you said you’d help me with Tommy’s gift. Now—roses or carnations?”

Eddie shook his head and said, “Neither. Both are overrated and Tommy would want something…different,” and Buck felt his irritation rise even further than before, the urge to turn around and punch him rising with every passing moment. “I mean, think about his favorite color—he goes for blue a lot, you know? So maybe something like…these,” he said, reaching for some blue flowers that shimmered enticingly, and Buck read the label, which said delphinium elatum.

“Blue? Really? But…it’s Valentine’s Day. I kinda feel like I should go for something pink or red, or even white, you know?” he hedged, still glancing over at the roses—and then was taken off guard when his friend suddenly bit out, “God, why are you so dense? He likes blue flowers because they remind him of your eyes! Fuck!”

Wait…what?

He felt an odd sensation on the back of his neck as he put things together, and he said, “Hold on, have you…Eddie, have you been talking with Tommy?” and his friend nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, I have, and can I just say that he has the patience of a saint putting up with you? I mean, my god! You have two days before Valentine’s Day and you’re freaking out over-over-over flowers, Buck!” he exclaimed, spreading his arms wide and causing a scene in the middle of the flower shop. “Do you have any idea how in love with you Tommy is? That man would be happy if you just showed up! I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so ridiculously in love as you two! You don’t need to do anything except show up!” he repeated, looking borderline pissed.

Buck shrunk in on himself slightly, once more feeling like the insecure eighteen-year-old who had run way from home, feeling equal parts chastened and grateful. While it hadn’t been the best way to say it, he could hear what Eddie was trying to tell him: that Tommy didn’t care what he got him because he loved him more than anything else.

“I think I’ll get the delphiniums,” he finally said with a grin, clapping Eddie on the shoulder.

“Oh, thank god. Can we go, now?”

Buck laughed and nodded and added, “Yeah, we can go. And thanks for putting up with me,” and Eddie snorted and shook his head and quipped, “Yeah, well, someone has to.”

It was Valentine’s Day and Tommy was putting the finishing touches on the present that he’d purchased, feeling a frisson of nerves at the thought of Evan not liking it—even though Howie had told him probably about a hundred times that his boyfriend would love it.

He stared at the ribbon that he’d tied around it, remembering the ribbon he’d put on the oven before he had surprised Evan with it.

“You’ve got this,” he muttered to himself in a pathetic attempt at a pep-talk. “You’ve got this…”

He moved over to the mirror and checked himself over, making sure he looked presentable as he listened to his boyfriend in the bathroom finishing getting ready. They were going out to dinner and so he had put on his black suit with a white button up underneath, not bothering with the tie. Evan had told him the last time that he had worn a suit that it had been the hottest thing he had ever seen, so he was indulging him and making sure that the evening would be a memorable one.

He had made reservations at a small place that he knew Evan had been wanting to try for a while.

…and just as he thought about possibly changing his jacket, Evan emerged from the bathroom fully dressed in his own charcoal suit with a deep red shirt that made his eyes pop, curls looking fresh, and he let out a low whistle and said, “Look at you, babe…damn. I can see that look in your eyes, don’t even think about changing! Those pants are awesome for your ass and that suit jacket makes you look good enough to eat…”

Tommy chuckled and turned and reached out to his boyfriend, pulling him in.

“Good to know. Speaking of eating, you ready to go?”

Evan nodded, his blue eyes sparkling, and the airman knew that it didn’t matter what he gave him, he was happy enough to have him in his life. Evan could give him the worst present in the world, and it wouldn’t have mattered—because he had him.

Smiling, he said, “Good, let’s go,” and quickly ushered him down the stairs and through the front door, present tucked inside his jacket.

His boyfriend had already greeted him with flowers when he’d come home, blue delphiniums that were the exact same shade as his eyes, and it was easily already the most romantic present that he’d ever been given, and he had told him that—and continued to tell him that as he drove them to the restaurant.

“Seriously, Evan. Those flowers are the most beautiful things I’ve ever received,” he repeated one last time as they dropped off the truck with the valet, and Evan rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, you’ve said that, like, ten times now.”

“So?”

He rolled his eyes a second time and drawled, “Sooo…can we please move past it? I just wanna have a romantic dinner with my boyfriend and talk about something stupid for the next couple of hours,” he said as he tugged at his hand, pulling him into the restaurant, and Tommy smiled indulgently at him and nodded and said, “Okay, sure. That sounds good to me,” and let him lead him into the restaurant, loving it when Evan took charge and said, “Two for Kinard,” and he felt his stomach flip at the thought of him having his last name one day.

Someday soon, he hoped.

Buck grinned as he made his way to their table, holding his boyfriend’s hand the entire way, feeling a giddiness about being out on Valentine’s Day with him. They had celebrated a few holidays as a couple, but Valentine’s Day was different from the rest—and they both knew it.

Actually, it was the first time he had ever been in a relationship during the holiday, and it made him feel an excitement he’d never felt before.

“And here’s your table,” the waiter said, and he nodded his thanks, and they sat down across from each other, a candle on the table.

Buck admired his boyfriend as he sat across from him, barely keeping himself in check. Tommy looked damn good every other day of the week, good enough that both men and women regularly hit on him…but right now?

Goddamn, he was barely keeping himself in check.

Tommy looked like pure sin sitting there in a pristine white button up that had the first few buttons undone, exposing the long column of his throat, and as he glanced down at the menu, Buck was completely distracted by the way the angle of the older man’s collar emphasized the sharp jut of his jawline and the exquisite cut of his cheekbones, his steel blue eyes glowing in the candlelight that lit the table between them, his black suit coat a stark contrast to his shirt.

Fuck, he wanted to jump him right then and there.

Marshalling what little control he had, he said, “So, uh…the appetizers look good, don’t they?” even though he hadn’t even glanced at the menu, the weight of it heavy in his hands as he kept on drinking in the sight of the man in front of him.

“Evan, you haven’t even looked at the menu,” Tommy said without even glancing up at him, and he nervously laughed.

“Yeah, yeah…good point.”

He looked down at the tiny font and pretended to scan it for a moment…but then looked back up and leaned in and whispered, “You look so damn good right now, I can barely concentrate, so is it alright if you just order for us?” and smiled when Tommy snorted and shook his head and said, “Oh, you are adorable…but, no,” and finally looked up at him. “If you let me order, I will purposely get you something you don’t like just to teach you a lesson, but I don’t want to do that because it’s Valentine’s Day, so please—please—just look at the damn menu.”

Buck slowly smiled and nodded and then actually took a good long look at the menu, his eyes alighting quickly on two things that he knew he would enjoy without having to deal with any unexpected surprises, and by the time the waitress came back to them, they both put in their meal orders, along with their drinks, and then he settled back in his chair and began to trace a finger around the edge of his water glass as he admired his boyfriend one more time.

“You really do look gorgeous tonight,” he said, thrilled when he saw a faint pink tinge in the other man’s cheeks.

“And you seem determined to make me make a fool of myself tonight. What about you, Mister Buckley?” he retorted, giving him an appreciative look over the edge of his water glass. “You are cutting a fine figure in that gray suit of yours…”

“It’s charcoal.”

Tommy arched an eyebrow at him.

“Oh, my bad.”

They shared a look…and then both broke out into giggles, and as they did, Buck felt Tommy’s real present burning a hole in his pocket and decided that he couldn’t wait until the end of the meal and quickly pulled it out and slid the slim box across the table and said, “I can’t wait until later. Here. This is for you.”

Tommy stared at the slim black box Evan had just pushed towards him, beautifully tied with a deep red ribbon into a slightly asymmetrical bow that felt delightfully ‘Evan’.

Curious enough to not ask him why he wanted to exchange gifts right at that moment, he simply nodded, and pulled the box towards him, gently tugging on one of the ribbons before lifting the lid…and then let out a soft gasp at the sight that greeted him.

Resting in a deep red velvet that matched the ribbon was a beautiful watch that he immediately recognized.

“Is that…Evan. How on earth did you…? How…?” was all he was able to get out as he gently removed it from its velvet cushion and brought it closer to the light of the candle so that he could admire the craftsmanship of it—as well as confirm that it was what he thought it was. “This…this is a Bell & Ross BR-03. This…is…it’s a work of art! How did you even afford this?” he found himself asking, hating that that was the first question he could think of, wincing at how it sounded.

But before he could correct himself, Evan was grinning and saying, “I, uh, I found a widow in the area who was selling her husband’s watches—he used to be a pilot—and saw she had one that looked exactly like one of the ones you showed me a couple months ago that you were saving up for, so I…I haggled with her a bit and I got it. You…you really like it?”

He shot him a look.

“Evan, I love it. It’s perfect,” the airman declared as he slid up both the sleeve of his coat and his shirt to put the watch on immediately.

He kept on glancing down at it and then back up at Evan, trying to understand how he had gotten so damn lucky to have a boyfriend like him. The watch was literally the most perfect thing that anyone had ever gotten him—everything down to even the material of the wrist band was exactly what he wanted.

“Yeah, well…I hoped you’d like it,” his boyfriend added with a bashful smile. Fuck, he was perfect.

…and now Tommy couldn’t help but feel that his own gift paled in comparison (even though Howie had told him several times over already that it was perfect).

Still, he managed to marshal his courage and pulled out a similar box from his own suit jacket and cautiously slid it across the table, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched Evan carefully untie the pink ribbon he had used…

…and his heart stopped when he lifted the lid.

“Tommy…”

The silence stretched. Oh, god. Was that good? Or bad?

“You got me a behind-the-scenes tour of Aquarium of the Pacific?!” he practically shouted, and he watched as his boyfriend nearly stood from his chair—but then suddenly remember that they were in a public place and stayed sitting, his gaze glued to the tickets in his hand, eyes wide as he pulled out the folded piece of paper underneath it that explained what all he would be seeing and when it was taking place (in exactly one month).

He quickly scanned it and then said excitedly, “Oh my god, this isn’t just a tour, this-this-this is a full private showing with their head trainer and their head researcher that works with the National Wildlife Foundation! Oh my god, Tommy…” He lifted his eyes back to his, and for a brief moment he swore he could see twelve-year-old Evan Buckley sitting in front of him. “…this is literally the best gift that anyone has ever given me in my life. Ever,” he repeated emphatically, reaching across the table with his free hand to grab at his own, their fingers tightening almost painfully. “How...how did…how did you know?? I’ve, I’ve never told anyone…wait. You talked to Chimney, didn’t you?” he accused, and Tommy nodded.

“Yeah, I talked to Howie. And apparently I now owe him one. Or two. Honestly, I don’t know what I owe him at this point,” he said, shaking his head and reaching for his water with his free hand. “But apparently it was the right call…”

They exchanged a look.

And then his boyfriend said, “This is gonna be hard to top. What are we gonna do next year?”

Get married, he thought to himself…but out loud he said just as Evan took a sip of his water, “Hole up in a hotel for two days and fuck each other silly, of course,” grinning when the younger firefighter coughed and nearly choked on his water, thrilled that he’d managed to garner such a reaction.

“That…that’s not a bad idea.”

Tommy shrugged and said, “Yeah, I occasionally have good ones from time to time, it’s been known to happen,” and right as he said that, their food arrived and they shared a quick grin and began to eat, tangling their feet together under the table as they did so, and the airman relished the intimacy and closeness, feeling like he had finally found the person who knew him inside and out, in every sense of the word, and made the mental note to start looking for rings.

God, he couldn’t wait to be married to that man.

Buck noticed his boyfriend giving him a dopey smile and asked, “What’s that smile for?” and he just shook his head.

“Nothing. Just…thinking about how much I love you.”

He suspected that wasn’t the entire truth…but he was okay with not knowing what he was really thinking. Hell, this was probably the most perfect night that he had ever experienced in his life, and he didn’t want to ruin it by pushing anything too hard. Besides, Tommy would tell him if something was really on his mind.

They finished dinner fairly quickly—and then Buck was thrilled when Tommy ordered them both dessert in fluent French, something that sounded decadent and sinfully good.

“Fuck, it’s hot when you pull out the French,” he said, unable to help himself, curling his ankle around the back of his, and his boyfriend gave him a look.

“Hot, huh? Want me to start using it in the bedroom? I can start calling you mon petit garçon,” he said as he smirked at him, and Buck felt his stomach flip and he knew that his eyes had dilated, and he tried his best to glare at him.

“Don’t…don’t do that. Not here.”

Tommy chuckled, the sound low, warm, and promising, and he felt it as if his boyfriend had just run his stubbled jaw along the inside of his thighs, the tone of his voice having the same effect on him, even from a distance, and he shifted in his chair to try and hide the effect that it was having on him. As he moved, however, his boyfriend shot him a knowing look, and Buck knew that he knew the effect he was having on him.

Smug bastard, he thought to himself.

Still reeling from the present Tommy had given him, he said one last time, “Seriously, this gift, it’s really…it’s really the most amazing thing anyone has ever gotten me,” and reached out for his hand across the table, feeling a sense of relief when his boyfriend squeezed his fingers and gave him a soft smile.

“I’m really glad you like it, Ev.”

He looked like he was about to say something else—but then dessert arrived, and Buck stared at the chocolate concoction that was placed on the table between them with two spoons and he marveled at it for a moment before saying, “Okay, now this…this looks like the best thing I’ve never had. What is this?”

“It’s called gâteau royal,” Tommy explained as he dug his spoon into it. “It’s made from almond meringue, praline feuilletine, and the top layer is dark chocolate mousse. It’s also sometimes called a Trianon because it has three layers…”

Buck took a bit and moaned at the rich flavor that exploded across his tongue.

Tommy shot him a look, one eyebrow raised.

“Evan…save those sounds for later.”

He smirked.

Yeah, this was the best Valentine’s Day ever.

#bucktommyfluffebruary #buck x tommy #tevan #tevan fic #tevan fanfic #tevan fanfiction #valentine's day #fluff #evan buckley #tommy kinard #nephilimeq fanfic

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alwaysobsessed777 · 4 hours ago

Note

After that absolutely masterclass by the one and only Azzi Fudd, I think this means we should get an Azzi fic 👀

Keeping it simple and just her and her gf celebrating her domination in that game and her gf being so freaking proud of her

ALL MY GHOST - A.F.

yet again guys....if it's not good let me know

For our princess, Azzi, cause she cooked today

"UCONN UPSETS SOUTH CAROLINA IN A BLOWOUT GAME," I couldn't believe my ears. UConn really just played like their lives depended on it, and it gain them a win. The shouting, the upsetting groans, it was a thrilling experience I didn't think I was gonna experience...ever.

"Oh my God! We did it!" Azzi pulled me into a hug over the bench she had been sitting. Laughing aloud, I hugged the girl back. The energy radiating off the girl and the team.

"Baby, you need to go celebrate with the team...not me."

She shakes her head, nuzzling it further into my neck, "but I wanna celebrate with you."

I sigh, "Azzi...."

"Yes, my love?" Her eyes meeting mine, playing innocent.

"You know what."

"Fineee...but I wish we could go back to the hotel....cuddle...maybe throw in a movie while I read my book," I laugh as her eyes light up.

"And we'll do that...after you spend some time with Paige," I noticed the blonde making her way towards us, "speaking of the devil."

Paige scrunches her face up in disgust, wrapping an arm around Azzi. Pulling the girl away from me a bit. "First of all, I am an angel...not a devil. Second, why are you holdin' the people's princess back from her team, y/n/n? Like, girl, come on!"

Rolling my eyes, I snap back, "sorry your best friend would rather hang with me....guess I'm just better."

Paige's turn to roll her eyes, Azzi's never leaving mine, "whatever, bruh...can I steal your girlfriend for like two minutes?"

Azzi's eyes plead for me to say no, but that didn't matter to Paige. She would've taken the girl anyway.

"Sure...just don't keep her too long...I wanna have my fun with her too."

The blonde's eyes widened, "aye yo....chill out there."

Blushing, Azzi laughed, "P....get your mind out the gutter. We're just gonna have a movie night."

"Sure....almost 30 point game and watching movies is all you're gonna do....right," The curly haired girl shoved Paige playfully. Sending the blonde back, her raising her hands in surrender before walking back with the team.

"Yeah....I wouldn't wanna wear you out of course," she slapped my shoulder, "ow!"

"I need you to stop being a flirt," she took a quick look before leaning in to place a soft peck to my lips, "You might make Paige jealous."

"Good," a smirk played on my lips, "cause she's missing out."

She rolled her eyes, "wait for me by the exit, okay? Oh, we should totally grab something to eat on the way to the hotel too."

I snicker, "you got it, princess."

She leaned in for another quick kiss, running off into the locker room with the rest of the Huskies.

After about 20 minutes, I get a message, Azzi was on her way out. Waiting by the doors, I watched as the girl made her way through the hallway. Her smile was bright, her laughter was warm, she made me forget about everything else in the world. Everything bad or good. The only thing I knew was Azzi.

"Hey babe," kissing my cheek, I intertwined our hands.

"Hey baby," Paige let out a loud gag before sprinting off, "I don't even have to flirt to make her jealous."

"Whatever...I was thinking...."

"What were you thinking?"

"What if we stopped and got a pizza," I nod, "then, we run to Barnes and Noble."

"And why do we need to go there, Az?" I tilted my head, knowing what the answer was going to be.

"Since I had such an amazing game....maybe you could buy me a book?"

I laughed, "you got it, but that's totally a princess move."

"And I'm proud of it," she held her head up high, soft chuckles falling from both of us.

The car ride was nice. We listened to whatever she wanted to play, we stopped by Barnes and Noble to buy the book she was wanting,.we grabbed drinks from Dunkin, and finally stopped to get pizza before heading back to the hotel. I sat down the box before throwing myself on the bed. A small laugh fell from Azzi's lips.

"I'm so tired," I whined.

"You're tired? Baby, I'm the one who literally played a game," a teasing tone dripped from her voice.

"I get your tiredness... we're just connected or something," a laugh escaped her again.

"What happened to movie and cuddles though," I could hear the pout in her voice, my head snapped to look at her. Her lips out in a pout, her eyes wide.

I jump up, pulling Azzi into me, before falling back in the bed, "then come lay with me!"

"Y/n!"

Without fighting, she just let me hold her. Her arms tighten around me, her head resting on my chest. I knew I loved her, I always had, but something about this moment felt different. It was so easy yet so charged with emotions. I didn't know what to feel.

"I love you, princess," mumbling the words against her hair, placing a soft kiss afterwards.

"I love you too, y/n/n."

#wbb #wcbb #wnba #uconn wbb #womens basketball #wbb x reader #azzi fudd #azzi fudd x reader

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witchygagirlwrites · 2 days ago

Text

Fix You-Part 3

Kelly Severide x Reader x Matt Casey/ Sevasey x Reader

So maybe you're feeling more than you thought for Matt and Kelly?

You groaned when your phone started blaring and your hand shot out to slap across your nightstand in an attempt to find the damn thing. When you finally wrapped your hand around it, you brought it to your face, flinching against the bright light when you saw your sister Rein’s name. Technically she was your sister in law but her and Andrew, your oldest brother had married right out of high school so you pretty much just considered her your sister. She called you at least twice a week just to check in. She probably knew more about your life at this point than your brothers.

“Hey Rein” you answered and she laughed “Good morning honey. Did I wake you up?” you pushed yourself up the bed “No big deal. My alarm would’ve gone off in like twenty anyways” “How are things going?” she asked and you shrugged then remembered oh yeah this was a phone call not a video call.

“They’re fine. Uncle Jeff is looking at some assisted living places this week and I’m helping him meet with a realtor for their place” she let out a breath “Have you decided what you’re doing yet?” you ran a hand down your face because honestly up until this point you’d been dead set on as soon as your Aunt Erika passed and your Uncle Jeff was squared away you would hightail it home to New York. Now? The thought of leaving Fifty one in the rearview was not sitting quite right with you.

At your silence she laughed lightly “Is it that Captain and Lieutenant?” your eyes widened “Please tell me Andrew is on shift!” she laughed loudly at the panic in your voice “Of course! I’d never bust you out like that but come on, just between us” you sighed before saying “It’s not just them, it’s the entire house. They’re feeling like home Rein. They’re feeling like family, like I could belong here”

“Maybe you do?” she suggested and you shook your head. Whatever you were feeling for Kelly and Matt was a crush at most. They were sweet, yeah and amazing and gorgeous and brave and had quickly become your friends and you talked to them both regularly but they were in love. They had been together for years. You had no place there. “I gotta get ready for work” “Oh and Spitfire sidesteps the question!” she laughed before saying “Call me later, ok” “Ok. Love ya and tell everyone I said hey and I love them. Tell Grams I’ll call her tomorrow” “Will do”

You hung up and stared at the phone for a second. Your contract end date was closing in fast, alot faster than you would have liked honestly. Sylvie was the best partner you’d ever had, Fireball was your best friend and Firecracker was quickly working her way into being your other best friend. Chief Boden was the absolute best boss you’d ever worked under, the guys at fifty one well they were chaos embodied but they were yours.

You shook your head and tossed the blanket off your legs. You needed to get a shower and grab everything you needed for your shift. You had to get your head clear. This was a little too much to focus on. “One thing at a time” you muttered as you headed for your dresser to find clothes.

Matt and Kelly were sitting in Matt’s quarters when you walked through the common area. They were all too aware of your contract end date. The calendar that hung in the kitchen of their loft had the date marked in red. “What do we do if she leaves?” Matt asked and Kelly shrugged “I don’t know. Do you think we have a damn chance? This is..well this is new even to me”

Matt shot him a grin because it wasn’t any secret that before they got together Kelly had been a bit of a playboy to put it lightly “I’d say so, Kelly Severide wanting to commit to not only one person but two?” Kelly glared playfully at him “Come on babe, don’t be mean to me too. She gives me enough hell”

Matt rolled his eyes “And you fucking love it” “I really do” Kelly admitted with a grin. You cut your eyes up about that time and spotted them looking at you and winked at them. Matt laughed “You do know that was at me right? If she would’ve stuck her tongue out, that would’ve been at you”

“I swear Casey” Kelly started but Matt shut him up with a kiss.

You were starting a pot of coffee when a call rang out for an all vehicle response to a warehouse fire. You shrugged and put the pot down “Guess caffeine will wait” then fell in line with the rest of the crew as everyone burst out into the bays, headed for their rides.

You jumped into the driver’s side of the ambulance as Sylvie hopped into the passenger side. “Let’s roll” you pulled out between the truck and rescue squad, hitting the lights and sirens. “Wonder how bad it is?” she questioned and you shrugged “Guess we’ll see”

_______________________

Bad, really fucking bad. That was the answer. The warehouse was one of the biggest ones on the east side and it was a damn near rolling blaze. Since you and Sylvie were first on scene you were the paras in charge so you and she were running the show on triage even as another station house rolled onto scene.

You moved through the tent with Sylvie, trying to see which victims were ambulatory and who was in dire need to go first. For the first little while it felt like every time you got a couple cleared either the guys from your house or the guys from the other house came out with more. When the flow finally slowed you took a breath, eyes turning towards the crowd. Where was Matt and Kelly?

You looked at Sylvie “You got this?” she nodded, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion “What’s wrong?” you shook your head “Bad feeling? I’m going to Chief Boden” she nodded “Ok, go”

You made your way across the scene to where you spotted Boden talking to Herrman and the Captain from the other house. “Do not tear that wall down! It will make the fire turn and force it back towards my guys” you heard Boden’s deep voice as you got to his side and the damn other Captain called out to his house “Do it”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” you yelled as you heard a loud cracking followed by calls of “SHIT. CLEAR OUT. CLEAR OUT”

“CLEAR OUT” Boden called across the radio and you dove for the other Captain “YOU STUPID SON OF A BITCH” but felt Cruz and Capp grab you around the waist as the last minute even as you fought against them “IF ANY OF MY BOYS DON’T MAKE IT OUT I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU”

“Woah, why is my medic trying to kill you?” you froze your fighting when you heard Matt’s voice and turned to see him, Kelly and Tony walking towards all of you. They were the last three of your house that was inside. “This asshole decided to tear a wall down when Boden told him not to and forced the flames back towards you and Severide. That’s why the clear out had to be called”

Matt spun towards the other Captain “Why didn’t you listen to my chief?” and the son of a bitch had the nerve to shrug and saud “Gotta take risks every now and then Casey” then cut his eyes at Kelly before adding “Ask your boyfriend, we all know his record”

“THAT’S IT” you yelled and jumped over Cruz’s shoulder but this time Matt’s strong arms wrapped around your waist, quickly followed by Kelly’s too. Boden ordered the other Captain off the scene as the two of them carried you back to the triage tent before finally putting you down on your feet.

Your breaths were still coming in ragged gasps from how damn angry you were and you were glaring at the members of the other house, practically begging one of them to say something “Asshole wants to endanger my Captain and My Lieutenant then act like it wasn’t a big deal”

“Your Captain?” Matt asked, a small smile slipping onto his face. “And your Lieutenant?” Kelly added, a smirk on his face. You realized what you said in the heat of the moment and tried to cover it by saying “Well until my contract is up” they shared a look then Matt shook his head “I don’t know you’re sounding like you belong here”

You shrugged “Maybe I just have realized you two idiots refuse to take care of yourselves so I might as well do it while I’m here”

Before either of you could say anything else Cruz came running into the triage tent and scooped you up laughing “Damn spitfire! Trying to fight an entire house” Capp was on his heels “Like we would’ve let her. A single one of those assholes swing on her and they would’ve had to face us all” Ritter popped up from the back “Their Chief is still laughing and commending Boden on and I quote finding a para that suits his house so well”

You couldn’t help the grin that slipped onto your face, especially when Boden stepped into the tent. He had a serious expression on his face and at first you thought “Ok, I’m about to be seriously reprimanded” but then a grin split his face “And that ladies and gentlemen is how you protect your house” and patted your shoulder.

“Are you still seriously considering leaving?” Fireball asked, she had bought you a beer once she heard about what you did at the warehouse fire or well after she got through laughing when Kelly told her. You shrugged, eyes flickering across the bar to where Kelly and Matt sat with Jay, Mouse and Kevin. “I don’t know. I always planned to go home after my aunt passed”

“But?” she asked and when you looked back at her she nodded slowly and took a sip of her drink “Oh yeah been there. Had that look on my face too” You laughed “Christ, how did you manage it in the middle of a war?” she took another swig of her drink and stared into space for a moment before shrugging “Not well, at all. Maybe we both need to talk to Firecracker for advice?” and you both cracked up laughing.

Ethan walked by the table and froze when he heard you two laughing “Oh no, my trauma nurse and my favorite para are drinking and laughing. Should I call Med and tell them to be ready for incoming?” Fireball cut her eyes at you then shrugged “Naw. Firecracker isn’t even out with us tonight” he laughed “Thank god for small miracles” and kissed the side of Fireball’s head before walking off.

You looked back at her “I’m fucked here, aren’t I?” she raised an eyebrow “Well I mean..not yet” and your mouth fell open before she started laughing.

You checked your temperature again and groaned. It was still fairly high. You pulled your blanket back over your head and rolled over. You hated having to call out even for one shift, the irony in Boden having to call in a floater for a temp wasn’t wasted on you.

There was a knock on your door and you groaned. Fireball had already stopped by to check on you after her shift when you rolled through med and got diagnosed with the flu. She’d given you a shot of Tamiflu and called Mouse to drive you home because you were swaying on your feet. “Go away” you muttered but the knock was persistent so you wrapped the blanket around yourself and shuffled to the door.

When you opened it Matt and Kelly were standing there. Matt had bags from the grocery store while Kelly had bags from the pharmacy. “What are you two doing here?” you asked and Matt smiled “You’re sick so I doubt you went grocery shopping or feel like cooking” “Plus we got cough drops, tissues and a bunch of other stuff Fireball and Connor recommended” Kelly added looking through the bag he had.

“You two don’t need to get this crap” you argued but they both shrugged “It’s a three day thing. We have three off anyways” Matt said and Kelly grinned “Come on darlin. We aren’t leaving. You look like crap”

“Gee Severide, I see how you got Matt now. You’re such a sweet talker” he laughed “I just mean you need someone to take care of you for once. Take some meds, go lay down and Matt will make you some soup. This man can make chicken noodle that would make campbell's want to go out of business”

“And if you two get sick and the house is out of our Captain and Lieutenant?” you asked and Matt grinned “We’ll be ok” you sighed and stepped back to let them in. They both stopped to tuck the blanket up further around you before Matt said “And you called us your Captain and Lieutenant again”

You rolled your eyes as Matt headed for the kitchen and Kelly scooped you up bridal style “Come on you little burrito back to bed” you didn’t have to energy to fight, especially when you looked towards Matt and he was grinning so broadly at the sight before reminding Kelly “She needs to take the meds before she lays down!” Kelly nodded “I’ll plop her in bed then grab em”

“Just fix the soup and go” you argued once Kelly laid you in the bed but he shook his head “Naw, your couch looks plenty big enough for the two of us. Think we’ll stay a while” and walked out the room, asking Matt where the bag from the pharmacy was.

How the hell were you supposed to walk away from Chicago, from these two now?

@desimarie12

@waywardhunter95

#kelly severide x reader x matt casey #sevasey x reader #sevasey #kelly severide x reader #matt casey x reader #chicago fire imagine #chicago fire fanfic #chicago fire fanfiction #chicago fire drabble

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cayleeuhithinknott · 2 days ago

Text

valentine’s day with mean!chris.

heart divider: @bernardsbendystraws

pairing: mean!chris & sensitive!brat!reader

you should’ve known better.

you really should have.

chris isn’t the type to gush over sweet things. he doesn’t like romance movies, refuses to slow dance, and rolls his eyes when you send him sappy texts. but here you are, standing in your kitchen, covered in flour and sugar, meticulously decorating a batch of heart-shaped cookies just for him.

valentine’s day is today, and you want to do something nice. something thoughtful. something that makes him smile, even if it’s just for a second before he calls you annoying and messes up your hair.

so you spent hours mixing the dough, rolling it out, cutting perfect little hearts. some bigger, some smaller—because you know chris will complain if they’re too extra but also scoff if you give him just one. you even made the frosting from scratch, a soft pink color with tiny red sprinkles.

i mean, honestly, get gordon ramsay up in this hoe!!!

now, the cookies are done, arranged neatly on a plate. you glance at the time. chris should be coming over any minute.

the thought makes your stomach flutter.

you don’t know why you get so nervous over him. he’a your boyfriend. maybe because he’s unpredictable. sometimes he’s soft in his own way, pulling you into his chest with an exhausted sigh after a long day. other times, he’s a menace, teasing you until you’re whining for him to stop being so mean.

you hear the front door creak open.

“angel?” chris’s voice carries through the house.

your heart skips. “kitchen!”

he appears in the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets, his usual half-bored, half-annoyed expression on his face. “why does it smell like sugar exploded in here?”

you huff. “it’s supposed to smell good.”

he steps closer, eyeing the cookies on the counter. “…you baked?”

you nod, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “yeah..for you.”

his brows raise slightly, but he doesn’t say anything right away. he just stares at them.

“they’re heart-shaped,” he finally points out, deadpan.

your face warms. “yeah, i know. it’s for valentine’s day.”

he picks one up, turning it over like he’s inspecting it for poison. then, he takes a slow bite.

you wait, watching every microexpression.

he chews. swallows. licks a crumb off his lip.

you can’t take the silence. “well???”

chris shrugs. “it’s alright.”

seriously?

your shoulders drop. “alright?”

“a little too sweet,” he adds, but he takes another bite anyway.

your stomach twists. you wanted him to love them. to tell you they’re the best cookies he’s ever had. to—

“you’re pouting.”

your head snaps up. “i am not.”

he smirks, reaching for another cookie. “you totally are.”

you cross your arms, mumbling, “you could at least pretend to like them…”

he sighs like he’s dealing with a particularly difficult child, then grabs your wrist, pulling you closer until your hip bumps the counter.

“angel.”

you blink up at him.

he leans in, voice dropping lower. “don’t be stupid. i’d like to think you’re not that dumb. if i didn’t like ‘em, would i be eating a second one?”

you glance at the plate—he’s already halfway through the second cookie.

your lips part and you almost want to let out a soft relieved giggle, but before you can say anything, he brushes a crumb off your chin with his thumb. the gesture is fleeting, but it sends heat rushing up your neck.

“besides,” he mutters, mouth quirking up slightly, “you didn’t have to do all this. you know that, right?”

your heart squeezes at his unusually soft demeanor.

“i wanted to,” you whisper.

he exhales through his nose, shaking his head like you’re ridiculous. but then, in a voice so soft you barely catch it, he says—

“you’re sweet enough without all this.”

your breath catches.

this is not something chris would usually say.

he immediately ruins the moment by shoving the rest of the cookie in his mouth. “but, like, seriously, cut back on the sugar next time. i can feel my teeth rotting.”

you groan, shoving his shoulder. “you’re impossible.”

he snickers, catching your wrist before you can hit him again.

but he doesn’t let go. chris’s grip on your wrist tightens just a little, enough to make you still. his eyes flick down to your lips, then back up, something sharp and knowing lurking behind his usual amusement.

“i’ll make it up to you tonight,” he murmurs, voice low and smooth, his thumb grazing the inside of your wrist. “and i promise, angel—by the time i’m done with you, you won’t have a single thought about these damn cookies.”

your breath catches. his smirk deepens.

valentine’s day just got a whole lot sweeter. even sweeter than those stupid fucking sugar-filled cookies.

a/n: he’s an asshole sometimes but we love when his soft spot shows 😌

tags: @sturniolo04 @admeliora94 @alexturnersgooch @strnilolover @snuffbut @frattboychris @marrykisskilled @mqttittude @purpledragon222 @aubsloveschris @slctsblogana @emely9274 @oliviasthatgirl @conspiracy-ash @matthewsroses @pasteldreams

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