#but other than that...ummm..any requests?

[drinkachyfi]

I haven't drawn rick & morty in about 10 years ... ToT

[limeletters]

Can I request a j&j prompt where June is just being an absolute daddy’s girl and Jack is being an absolute girl dad. Or like one where June seeks comfort in Jack?

ty for requesting dear!

jackrabbit and junebug 0.9k

You’re totally hopeless around Jack. All soft and stupid like you’re sixteen again. He’s your boyfriend, officially, as of last week. And it’s a dream, every part of it. But there’s only one person in the world who’s more obsessed with him than you are. June. 

You love it, of course. And Jack doesn’t seem to mind. He’s all smiles around her, happy to indulge even her wildest requests. It was her idea to invite him today. To the park for a sweaty afternoon in the sun. 

June clings to Jack despite the heat, hoisted into a piggyback, her chin propped adorably on his shoulder. 

“Dr. Jackkkk.”

“Juneeee.” 

“How old are you?” she asks. 

He sends you a funny look. “How old do you think I am?” 

She rubs her nose into his neck. You hope her kid germs don’t freak him out. “Ummm. I dunno. Like, twenty-five?” 

He laughs out loud. “That’s very generous of you. But no, I’m much older than twenty-five.”

“Like Santa Claus?”

“Yes, like Santa Claus.”

You knock your fist into his shoulder with all the force of a butterfly. He’s so dramatic. 

He’s spared any further questions when June spots the playground up ahead. She drives him right to the swingset, sliding down his back and pleading to be pushed. Jack obliges. He even lifts her onto the seat before giving the swing a gentle start. 

You stand not far off to the side to watch, your grin growing three sizes when June squeals in joy. 

“Higher!” she screams. 

“Any higher and I send you to space,” Jack says. 

You exchange a look with him. A look that makes your heart race and your face hot. He’s so, so sweet. Who decided he could be so handsome, too?

Youll get heat stroke if you stand there gushing any longer. You find a nice bench in the shade to rest. And when June’s done with the swingset, Jack comes to join you. 

“Where’s June?”

“She went solo. Said I’m too old for the monkey bars.”

“Should’ve let her believe you were twenty-five.”

“Guess I should’ve. This seat taken?” He points to the empty half of the bench beside you. 

“My other boyfriend.” It’s fun to say. Boyfriend. 

“Ha. Ha.” He sits thigh to thigh with you. It’s way too hot for it, but you can’t bring yourself to move. 

You find June at the top of the playset, making friends with a girl about her age. “I’m surprised she went off on her own,” you admit. “It’s like pulling teeth trying to get her to go play with other kids.” 

Jack hums. He’s not looking at June but at you. 

You tip your head toward him. “You give her confidence. You’re a good role model.” 

He looks away at that, head shaking. 

“You are.”

His lips press into a fine line. “I’m not doing anything special.” 

“I think you are.” You shrug your shoulders. “You’re being yourself. And you’re a good guy, Jack.”

“I don’t believe in that. Good guys, bad guys.”

“You’re missing the point.” 

He takes your hand and kisses the top of it like an apology. “You give me too much credit.” 

You leave it at that. You’re not sure if Jack Abbott will ever be the pat-himself-on-the-back type.

You look back to June and find empty space where she was a second ago. Your eyes skip from the swingset to the slides to the stairs. She’s not there. You get that awful pinprick of panic in your gut, standing up to widen your search. 

And it’s not even ten seconds later that she comes crawling out of the mouth of the tube slide. But her face is scrunched, cheeks wet with tears. 

“What happened?” comes out of your mouth in a muddled rush. 

But June shoots right past your open arms, straight into Jack’s knees. “Somebody—” she sucks in a big breath, “somebody stepped— stepped on my— my finger!” 

“What? Let me see?” He kneels in the mulch and takes her hand so gently into his. There’s no blood, and no immediate bruising. He’s pretty sure it’s okay. 

“Doctor—Rabbit, you have to— have to fix it.” 

Your stomach twists into a pretzel. You should’ve been watching. You should’ve paid more attention. You cradle her little fist, thinking about how this is all your fault. 

And Jack— the saint he is— must see the pitiful look on your face. He reassures you about a thousand times, “It’s okay. Her finger’s okay.” 

“I’m sorry, honey,” you tell Junie. “Want a kiss? Make it better?”

She shoves her achy finger up to Jack’s mouth. And he very kindly kisses it better for you. While you’re a bundle of stress and worry, a very small piece of you can’t help but swoon. 

“I think it’s okay,” he says to her. “Does it feel better?”

“No,” she whines. “Not better.” 

He swipes a tear from the crease of her frown. “Should we go to the hospital? Get it checked out?’

June’s never said no so fast in her life. And the mere mention of the ER that you’ve grown to know so well must cure her poor finger. A moment later, it’s hooked into Jack’s shirt, her not-so-subtle request to be picked up. 

Jack scoops her up like a baby and blows raspberries into her neck until her sad tears turn to happy ones. She’s spoiled rotten by him. But you wouldn’t want it any other way. 

[mickyschumacher]

babes i saw thia tiktok and thought of oscar so quick. if you could write somethin about this i'd be eternally grateful

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTMavkrpY/

-🎻

the mole theory - OP81

pairing: oscar piastri x gf!fem!reader

summary: oscar isn't sure why you're exactly staring at him. but those constellations on his face could answer his questions.

warnings: fluff, established relationship, cringe, cute, ummm dorks? // poorly proof-read ♡︎

word count: 1.0k

a/n: hello 🎻! hope you're well!!! sorry this took so long. i'm trying my best with all these requests hehehe. the tiktok is so cute!! argh ik what you mean when you immediately thought of oscar. i assume it was like bc of oscar's moles?? reader has none for today lol. sorry it's short. ♡︎ lmk what you think!

tag list ♡︎: @moonvr @justaf1girl @cosmix-stxrs

🏎️ masterlist | ⚽️ masterlist

"Why are you staring at me like that?" Oscar queried from across the couch, brow raised, eyes peeling away from the show you had put on when he realised you weren't paying attention.  

You said nothing, unable to answer as you scrutinised him carefully with narrowed eyes. Something you had learned recently was currently on your mind.  

They said that if a person had moles on any part of their body, in their past life, it was where their past-life partner would kiss them the most.  

Well, truth be told, someone online had said that. It was probably a joke. Some new contraption to get likes or views. But you couldn't get it out of your head. Because from where you sat, you could see the moles across his face and neck. You knew some were on his back and on his chest.  

God, his past lover was obsessed with him. Which, you were sure, was absolutely fair. You could only assume past-Oscar was as sweet as your Oscar.  

You, on the other hand, had none. Not a single mark. Spots from sun damage, however... yes, that may have been more likely.  

It was evidently clear to you that in this world there were favourites. Your boyfriend one of them. 

You pursed your lips, the action halfway between a frown and a pout as you settled further into the couch. Talk about unfair. You clicked your tongue, shaking your head before peeling your eyes back to the show.  

Oscar looked at you blankly, slightly taken aback by your silence. "No, no, no," he started, leaning forward to grab your arm to pull you up towards him. He gave you a pointed look when you looked at him with those same puppy eyes. "What were you thinking? You know I hate when you do that." 

You kept your lips sealed, now seeing those moles clearer than before. How pretty he was. You had joked about them before, called them many things, played connect-the-dots with them... but you knew what they were deep down. 

Constellations.  

Stars that navigated you. Your beliefs. Your myths. Your guidance.  

All on this man in front of you.  

Was it pathetic? Absolutely. But strangely enough, you were fine being an absolute mess as long as it was with him.  

You blinked as though you were entrance, pads of your fingers darting out to graze those spots. You could feel the warmth of his skin seep through your touch, his brown eyes curiously looking at you as you did. The corners of your mouth turned upwards when your fingers trailed down his neck, finding more moles, making his throat bob out of nervousness. 

"Apparently," you started quietly, "If you have moles on your body, they were all the places your past-lover kissed the most in your last lifetime." 

Oscar's brows mended together. He was far from this sort of logic, mostly a believer in rationale and science rather than the philosophy of romance. But the soft look in your eyes made it hard to denounce. He knew you were fond of them. But he had no idea you liked them this much.  

"Someone must've loved you a lot," you hummed with a small smile, pressing a light kiss on his lips before pulling away, ready to lean back down and start actually paying attention to your show. But his grasp on you tightened, keeping you close to him. You raised a brow. 

He jutted his lip out, a faint infliction of sadness in his voice as he spoke, "You don't have any." 

You snorted. "Well, Osc, some of us can't be that lucky in our past lives. Apparently," you huffed with a small grumble, finally settling back down into the couch and leaving him alone in his thoughts.  

Before you knew it, Oscar was on you, soft lips attacking every inch of your skin. You squealed, feeling his arms wrap around your waist, eyes fluttered shut despite the wide grin on your face.  

"Oscar!" You managed to exclaim, laughing gently, feeling a trail of kisses down your neck. You gasped as his fingers creeped under the hem of your shirt, pulling it up so he could plant some firm kisses against your stomach, inching further up your torso in a way that made you warm yet covered in goosebumps. 

"W-What are you doing?" You breathed harshly, stomach sore from laughing as he pulled his head out underneath your shirt and grabbed your arms, kissing them too.  

His grin could be felt against your skin. His brown eyes peered at you, warm and chocolate-like. "I'm kissing you," he stated with a shrug. 

You rolled your eyes. "I can see that," you retorted. "But why?" 

Oscar sighed, leaning back over you so he could bring you closer, tucking you into his grasp. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, eyes falling to you gently. He smiled, "So that way when you're reborn and you meet me in another life, you'll have me all over you." 

You blinked at his words, body stilling as your heart skipped one too many beats. You pressed your lips together, already feeling the corners of your mouth teetering. You cleared your throat, acting calm. "Has anyone ever told you you're cheesy?" You queried with a raised brow.  

"Cheesy?" He repeated, also raising his brow. He narrowed his eyes, hand reaching out to push the corner of your mouth up. "Don't pretend like you're trying hard not to smile."  

You shrugged, snuggling further into his chest. "This is my sad face," you remarked, giving him a perfect wide smile.  

A gentle laugh tipped his lips, slowly transitioning into a satisfied sigh. He flickered his gaze to the screen behind you. "We should probably restart the episode," he murmured, looking back at you.  

You hummed quietly, moving your hand to retrace those constellations. "Or... hear me out," you said, "Or you could keep kissing me." 

Oscar raised a brow, shifting closer to you with a wide grin. "I'm listening." 

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[cicadasexfest]

I love your mrs. magic series!!! its so well written and I love how everyone takes care of reader and her kids. tis so peakkkk. you can ignore this, but I have the clearest headcannon of pope being her babydaddy and showing up to her doorstep at like a party for her babies or smth. and like a hugeee confrontation happens and one of her love interests comes out to talk to him and everyone's like THATS THE BABYDADDY?!?!?!?!?

Lol, either way thank you so much for updating and I look forward to any updates you add!! <33

❀⋆.ೃ࿔homecoming❀⋆.ೃ࿔Andrew "Pope" Cody x Wife!Reader

a/n: idk if I did this request justice but I sooo wanted to do something for it...I wanna do a pt2 for this but with Dana and Smurf facing off + maybe some of the other Codys interacting with the Pitt characters:3

w.c: 1.9k+

f.c: ummm nothing really just Pope being Pope, Smurf is Smurf (derogatory)

series masterlist

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.

Three years and nineteen days. 

One thousand one hundred fourteen days, seven hours, and forty minutes.

That's how long it's been since Andrew Cody's been home.

It's also how long it's been since he's seen his wife. 

Granted, talking to you over the phone or face to face-behind-glass didn't quite count for Pope. Neither did exchanging letters. No, he needed to be able to touch and hold you in order for him to truly consider it being with you. Seeing you with his little girl was always a bonus, too. He just wanted to get out and be with his family again. 

It's why he played nice for those few years in Folsom. He endured Hilty's abuse, the humiliations, didn't retaliate for anything, because he held the hope that he'd see you again someday outside of that shithole. 

Except his homecoming in Oceanside hadn't turned out quite like that. 

All the Codys, including Julia's kid, to his surprise and faint grief, are gathered in the living room, most of them (except Craig and Deran, really) stiff from being near Pope again after three years of living without his off-putting presence. He'd just thought of a way to get out of the conversation and leave the house to see you when Lena, for the first time that evening, spoke up. 

"Is Doe Doe gonna come play soon now, Uncle Pope?" Lena asked.

"What's Lena talking about? She hasn't been coming around?" he said. Baz's brow twitched and Cath looked even more uncomfortable now, this time glancing at her husband for whatever bullshit he would come up with to calm Pope down. "What's she talking about?"

"It's nothing, man."

"Then tell me where my wife's been."

"Later, alright? 

"No, tell me now."

"She's gone, baby." It's Smurf, reaching out to rub his back, but Pope straightened his posture and kept his back pressed firmly against the couch.

"Gone? What do you mean 'gone'? Where'd she go?"

"No clue," she said, raising her brows. "Disappeared right after she popped out that other kid of yours. I mean, I don't mean to upset you, baby, but that's assuming it is yours."

"Of course she's mine," Pope nearly snarled. 

"'She'?" Smurf muses, lip curling. Pope didn't reply, instead opting to stand up and storm out of the house. From behind him, surrounded by his brothers, she calls out his name. "She's not anything good for you, baby."

The sound of the front door slamming as a response is enough to have Baz sighing while his brothers remained uncomfortably quiet.

After Pope's homecoming and his outrage from discovering you were gone, Cath should've known to expect him to come looking for answers. Now he's here, standing at her doorstep while Baz is out doing Smurf's bidding. 

"Where's my wife?"

"How should I know?" Cath snapped, but she grimaced at the shake she doesn't miss from her own voice. "I don't know, Pope."

"Where is she?"

"She told me not to say anything," she whispered. Maybe Smurf was right. Maybe she really is weak. 

"Where is she?"

It doesn't take much more than that before she was handing him a paper slip with an address. 

In Pennsylvania.

"Just don't—" she swallowed. "Don't hurt her. She was just scared."

Pope glanced back at her briefly, still standing at the doorway, then stalks off. Cath let out a shaky breath and rushed to the kitchen for her cellphone. 

The party's wonderful. Dana and everyone else from the ER had really outdone themselves with planning it. You really hadn't expected much of them when you'd mentioned wanting to have a small gathering for Fawn's eighth birthday. They'd gone above and beyond, though, and you were grateful to be surrounded by such a warm and caring community.

You smile when you hear the faint ring of the doorbell at the front door, handing June to a more than eager Robby, who keeps the squirming toddler entertained with his jingling keys while he talks with Jack. 

"I think that's Dennis!" you chirp. "He's the only one that hasn't arrived yet. He must be exhausted from the drive, the poor thing. I'll see if he wants to take a nap first before coming to join us."

"You spoil him, sweetheart," Jack says. You push his shoulder lightly, making him smirk.

"Be nice," you say, trying your best at a stern frown. You know it's not working when his grin just widens, so you sigh. "I'll be back!"

"Don't leave us for too long," Robby calls out from behind.

Your sundress swishes around your legs while you walk back into the house and head towards the door, beaming while you swing it open. 

"Dennis, you're late—!" But it's not Dennis, rambling about how Amy and the baby kept him late at the farm again, holding a gift for your daughter.

It's your husband.

Instinctively, you gasp and try to slam the door. You don't even know why. It wasn't like you've ever been scared of Andrew Cody. 

Pope immediate shoves his thick bicep in between the door and the doorway, easily forcing it back open. He steps inside, standing a mere few feet from where you were. 

"Why did you do that?" Though his voice is in that usual dry, flat tone you find endearing, you think it sounds almost…hurt.

"I don't know!" you squeal. You pause and take a breath, placing a palm on your chest to calm yourself. "…Hi. When did you get out?"

"Two days ago." You wait for him to elaborate, say more, explain why, how he'd found you here, but you see he's grown quiet in favor of staring at something behind you with dead eyes. You turn and see Dana standing by the living room, arms crossed and frowning. 

"You okay in here, hon?" she asks, glancing at Pope with uncertainty. You give her your best reassuring smile.

"Yeah, Dana, I'm fine. Could you, um, could you get started on cake?" 

"Sure. The girls are asking for you." You don't miss the shift in Pope's posture when your daughters are mentioned.

"Tell them I'll be there in a minute, okay? I'll be right out."

"You sure?" the nurse says. "Do I need to bring Abbot in?"

"No!" you squeak. "It's fine. I'm okay, seriously."

Dana eyes you worriedly again before nodding with a frown and heading back outside. You let out a small sigh of relief, biting the inside of your cheek.

"Who's Abbot?"

"He's—" you sigh again. "He's just someone I know, bub." Then, murmured, "We can talk in my room." You tentatively reach out to take his hand in yours. Pope looks down at the joined hands before slowly allowing you to begin guiding him down the hall.

"We're havin' a bit of a problem," Dana mutters to Jack at the edge of the group amassed by the cake table, where Robby was holding a beaming Fawn's arm while she cut the slices and served them to her guests.

"Problem?"

"Our girl's got company inside, and 'm havin' trouble deciding if it's welcome or not."

One of the first things you notice about your husband after he's been in prison for three years, even if you were visiting him for the majority of the first two?

"Oh, bub, your curls," you whimper, frowning softly as you felt his head for the missing tufts. For all the times you've crooned and fawned over his hair, Pope's still surprised to hear the genuine heartbreak in your voice and see the watery glimmer in your eyes.

"I'll grow 'em back."

"You better," you sigh and kiss his cheek. "I missed my husband."

 "Yeah, my wife missed me?" Pope breathes, slowly rubbing his nose against the slope of yours. "She miss me while I was locked up?"

You whine, biting your lip and looking up at him through your lashes. "You know I did, Andy."

"I wouldn't know, actually, because my wife moved to another fuckin' state while I was gone. What's here, baby? What's in Pittsburgh?"

"Nothing," you mumble, finally nuzzling your face against the near-nonexistent stubble on his cheek, making your husband let out a pleased grunt. " 'S why I chose it. No Smurf, no Baz. Nothing from home could find me here."

"Except me," he whispers.

You smile finally, shy and sweet like how Pope remembers you before he was taken. "Except you."

"How's Doe Doe?" It's been years since you've heard the nickname, read it even, from when he wrote it in his letters, and it makes you smile.

"Good. She, um, she started third grade this year. Her teacher says she's settled in well. Move barely even affected her, I think."

"She's always been good at making friends. Gets it from her mama."

You look away bashfully, smiling shyly. 

"Where you been working?" he murmurs.

"A law firm, as a secretary. It's really nice, actually. Junie loves the daycare they've got."

"You've been okay? You don't—you're okay on money?" You nod.

"Mhm. We get by, and I still have extra cash on me after the bills are paid." You hesitate to say it, but you figure it's better if he doesn't have to ask what really happened back in California. "I was working with my mom for a while at the bakery. Back when I was still visiting you. But, um, we had an argument." 

" 'Bout me?" He rasps. You hesitate, but eventually nod into his chest. 

They were always about him.

"She didn't want your family to show up at the house. And, ah, she thought I was wasting money and time taking the train to see you all the way in Folsom." 

"They were long trips," he muses. You pout, pressing a kiss against his neatly ironed button-up.

"And they were always worth it. Fawn thought they were fun adventures, and she loved getting to see you. Don't you ever think that I didn't like putting in the effort to be with you, Andrew."

He says nothing, but it's okay. You know he heard you and he'd remember your words. Smurf may have taken her time deconstructing his identity to mold it around being useful for her motives, but you've spent an equal amount of time providing unconditional love and just the same telling him that would never change, no matter what. 

"Hey, why don't we go outside?" you say gently. "Fawn will be so happy to see you, and I want you to meet everyone. They're all people from this hospital in the city. They've been a great help with helping me settle in. You'll like Doctor Robinavitch. And Doctor Abbot! And you've met Dana already." You giggle, kissing your husband on the cheek when he doesn't reply, who opts to stare at the carpet intensely. "You'll get to hold Junie for the first time," you add softly. 

That gets his attention.

Dana and Jack have just caught up Robby on the situation and discussed what way they should approach the situation when you're stepping back into the backyard. The man Dana had described is next to you, and the men weren't quite quite ready for the quietly pissed off look on his face she'd mentioned to be so accurate. All while you clung to his arm and beamed, calling out to your oldest.

When she squeals and immediately starts barreling towards the man, the whole staff is left flabbergasted.

"DADDY!"

Fuck.

That was your ex-husband?

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.

a/n: I kind of do want to make Pope being Mrs Magic!reader's baby daddy a thing in this series idk... He deserves his own family to dote on and protect after what happened to him in Animal Kingdom</3 should it be a side plot or smth with its own tag list??? Since this was technically part of the Mrs Magic series, I added the tag list, but lmk if you want to be removed for future works with Animal Kingdom included!

AK tag list:

@chxrrybomb22

Mrs Magic Tag List:

@gcx23 @nerdgirljen @yoongi-tangerine-22 @beeop223 @justarandomflowerfromthenight @may-machin @angywritesstuff @rubytuesday2468 @ilovejackabbot @mjsvinyl @spooky-librarian-ghost @arigoldsblog @trulycayla @supersonicoxo @moony35 @abzidabzy @babyblueb3ll @tqd4455 @camie18 @eliza7up @taylordaughter @blondedlvfe @sukilinos @mayemperess @rexit-mo @stardream14 @dorotheareid @biggestsimponhere @rufles2 @crazyunsexycool @zolea-exultant @lunamoonbby @kneelforloki @love-me-91393 @feral-postings @bumbl3-b33z  @faelvz  @batgirliee @meowmeowyoongles @judit-97 @dreamedaboutitinthedark @thecraziestcrayon @1-800-bobcut @peachyfckingkeen @iiuliae @scaredheartxvii @abschaffer2 @arialikestea @tedmustache @celestialsonglines

[cha0ticstranger]

Hii its my first time making a request but I LOVEEE how you write for Gator so I couldn't help myself but...

A drabble of Gator jerking off. No reader. Just what he'd be like in the comfort of his own room when hes hard. Its your choice if you want reader to catch him during it or not.

Thankyou!!!

cw: this is slightly depraved so ummm enjoy that! 18+, mdni, male masturbation, panty sniffing, afab reader, slight cum play?, spit?

Gator keyed into your apartment after calling you. He'd been released early from patrol tonight, and though you were out running errands, he'd rather come over early than drive all the way to the ranch and back.

At this point in your relationship, Gator was familiar enough with your place to make himself comfy. He practically lived with you half the time, which is why he hung his black bomber jacket, deposited his keys, and took off his boots in their unspoken designated spaces.

He made his way back into your bedroom, smirking at the slight mess you left this morning. His eyes fell to a pair of your panties at the foot of the bed, the black cotton taunting him. Gator took slow steps before he kneeled down, snatching the fabric between deft fingers. He raised them to his nose, taking a good whiff of your scent, causing a shiver to run down his spine.

His pupils dilated, blood rushing south. Moving back up on his feet, Gator readjusted himself in his camo pants, his bulge starting to strain against the material. With his other hand, he unlocked his phone and checked your location. You were still a good fifteen minutes, and that was without traffic or any unplanned stops.

So Gator saw his opportunity, and he took it. In one swift movement, Gator shoved off his pants before settling into your bed. He rested against the pillows that lined the headboard, cushioning his lower back.

Bringing the panties to his nose once more, he opened his camera roll to the hidden folder of your private photos. He swiped between pictures of your tits covered in love bites, ass bent over the edge of the bed, waiting for him, and videos he'd taken of drilling into your cunt. Maybe it was lustful behavior, but he'd gone days without fucking you now, and he could only be so patient.

Without another thought, Gator tugged his cock free from his boxers, his flushed cock standing at full attention. His fingers wrapped around the base, giving himself a firm squeeze as he contemplated what you would do if you were here right now.

He thought back to last week, how you two were watching a movie until your hand snuck under the waistband of his sweatpants. By the time the credits had rolled, you'd swallowed two full loads of his cum with some remnants of the corners of your mouth as you finally pulled off of him.

Gator slowly pumped his shaft, occasionally running his thumb over the tip to smear the pearly precum that leaked. His hand wasn't soft like yours, nor could he quite replicate it, but as he spat in his hand, Gator imagined that his hand was yours.

Soon enough, his phone was tossed to the other side of the bed, instead fisting your panties against his nose. His hand moved eagerly up and down his shaft, eliciting soft whines that were muffled by the fabric of your panties pressed to his lips. He mouthed at the pair as he gave himself a couple of rough tugs, his hips bucking at the movement.

He didn't hear the front door open, but you could certainly hear the lewd moans of your name when you entered the apartment. Your cheeks went red, and you swiftly shut the door behind you, praying that the neighbors weren't aware of what your boyfriend was doing.

When you finally made it back to the bedroom, the sight that greeted you was enough to make your mouth water. Gator's cheeks were flushed pink, brows knitted together in concentration. His chest hair peaked over the collar of his shirt, and his rapid breathing set a steady rise and fall with each exhalation. You noticed your panties wrapped around the base of his cock, occasionally traveling upwards with his firmer strokes.

Each grunt from his lips made you press your thighs together as you watched him fuck his hand to completion. Gator came with a curse of your name, white ropes painting his hand, stomach, and the fabric of your panties and his boxers.

Once he managed to catch his breath, you cleared his throat. Gator didn't appear embarrassed, far from it, actually.

An easy smirk stretched across his features as his fingers smeared over the spend on his stomach, "You gonna clean it off me or what?"

send me your gator thoughts 💭💋

[milkshakesmoothiee]

so ummm.. I have recently watch ROR and just finished the anime and can I confess something? I am absolutely in love with Buddha I there are barely any thing for him. So I was wondering if you do maybe some Nsfw and pregnancy/family headcanon or scenarios (you can choice) with Goddesses! Reader maybe? It perfectly fine if you can't and I totally understand. Please and thank you if you do or not is fine, but besides that have a good day and wonderful 2026!

˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀ Family & Pregnancy Headcanons

Fandom: Record of Ragnarok/ Shuumatsu no Valkyrie

Character: Buddha

NOTE: I apologize, I decided to not do the NSFW HC part because I wanted to keep it a fluff post and mostly about the pregnancy and family stages. SFW, AFAB reader.

MASTERLIST/REQUEST PAGE

Pregnancy stage

When you first share the information to him, the lollipop in his mouth immediately fell out as he froze there. His mouth wide open, taking in the information. He was expecting something pretty tame when you said 'I have an emergency, something important you should know.' Although this wasn't what he expected; staring at you with genuine shock. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"And it's mine?"

"Yes!!"

Buddha is pretty easy going throughout the time of your pregnancy, he doesn't exactly worry or watch out for you 24/7. He trusts you can handle yourself in small moments like going to grab a snack for yourself and him. Despite this he'll still randomly show up when you call for him.

During the pregnancy, Buddha is buying your favourite food (always getting extras.) Often making sure that when you lay down and sit he'll gets a dozen pillows and place them around you.

During the first trimester, he's often holding and sitting with you through your anxious feelings. There can be small chances of spotting, miscarriage and other stuff that scares you. He understands it completely and won't hesitate just cuddle with you until you're feeling better.

During the second trimester, Buddha begins to really sink in the whole idea of being a father. It hits him like a brick wall one day and he begins to talk to you about the future. Its not the typical conversation about 'finances, moving in together' or that stuff, more like:

"You're going to be a mother.." He plainly states out under his breathe with a smile as he's rubbing your shoulder and laying beside you.

You couldn't help but snicker, "Yeah, did it just hit you?"

"..yes." He muttered which made another laugh come out of you. No, no. He's being geninuely serious, he never actually thought about it until now. "You're going to be an amazing mother... I can't wait to wake up in the morning and see you holding our child in your arms... They'll have your eyes.."

"We don't know that yet." You said with a interested little smirk, finding this small conversation intriguing. He placed his hand on your stomach, which was beginning to grow; the shape was getting clearer and visible to notice.

"Well, I'd like to imagine they would... Just picture it... A tiny you.. I get a mini you." He spoke and laid his head on your stomach, being gentle with what's he doing so he wouldn't bring distress. He than gasped, dramatically speaking out with a panic in his tone. "OR A MINI ME? Wait, no, no. I can't have that!"

"And why's that?"

"They'll get the same qualities as me, right? That means they'll like the same snacks as me, I can't share those!"

He found himself often sitting in front of you, laying his head along your stomach the more it began to grow. He liked to feel the small kicks and movements your child made. Often he spoke to your child through your stomach, telling them about the great future they'll have or how unfair their mom has been acting, eating the last of the ice cream he saved for himself!

When the time came to check in with the hospital for a ultrasound, Buddha was beside you the whole time. He fell asleep though, after it was taking sooo long.

When the news came in, oh. He was shocked.

"..Twins." He stated it seemingly unbothered by this information, clicking his tongue and standing up. He said he was going to take a step out: needing a breather, despite him not being the one to carry your children.. Although as soon as he stepped outside those doors you heard him yelling, "TWINS? THIS IS A MIRACLE!"

"BUDDHA, GET BACK IN HERE!" You heard his yelling get faint as he was beginning to disappear down the halls, bothering everyone inside the hospital.

"WE'RE HAVING TWINS!!"

Around the third trimester, he was pretty content with his life. Happily beside you and waiting for the time to come when you'd be rushed to hospital.

The longer it took, the more he's counting down the minutes; it's geninuely killing him how much time has gone by and nothing. He's sweating and everything, any moment now it can occur. He's geninuely asking you to hold his hand as he poops so he doesn't come out and find you weak to your feet while he's enjoying a bathroom break! He's not having it!

Family stage

Buddha's biggest demand is that your children grow up happy. Their needs are always put first before anything, he's always asking them what they want to eat for dinner, if they're hungry for ice cream or what he should read next for bedtime.

Despite this, he's also a little unfair: No, he does not share his portion of the food, despite having way more than the children. No, he will not share their own mom when it's his time to cuddle! And no, he had the remote first so it's his turn, not theirs.

Sometimes, it felt like you were taking care of three children when he felt like he needed a break.

"Buddha, can you tuck them in for bed?" You called out down the hall, your two toddlers playing together in the play-pen beside your foot. When you got no response you called out to him again, "Buddha, can—"

"Whyyyy meeee...?"

"What?"

"I had them yesterday!"

"And I had them for nine months!"

"But I'm so tireddd.."

"It's equal shares."

Buddha enjoys taking them out to the park, sitting around and watching them make friends. Although, there was a time where he thought he lost them... He searched everywhere and finally found them in the place from half an hour ago; just trading candies under the slide with their friend.

He's doesn't really mind what sort of hobbies they all take up the quicker they grow. He's fine with cheering from behind, even if they're unusual like wanting to get into Taxidermy (despite how much it freaks him out—) As long as they're happy.

Despite being pretty calm and chill going, like telling you to loosen up in moments where you're yelling at them for coloring on the white walls. Although there are exceptions like he'd abuslotely cry tears at graduations. Buddha would get so sad watching them pack up and leave to be on their own, you'd have to geninuely hold him for hours.

Speaking of which, he's often helping his kids hide a few things from you, so you aren't screaming your head off at them. Covering for them always, especially at a young age. If they broke a lamp, he'll hide it for them and when you ask he'll seem pretty confused as well. Whenever you catch him lying he's immediately grabbing the twins and running off to the park to hide from your wrath.

"Buddha!"

"Yeah?" He walked into the living room with a small bag of chips in his hands, playing it cool with the twins hiding behind his leg.

"What happened here." You said with a glare in your eyes, your hand immediately pointing down at the paint stain in the carpet.

"That's strange, I don't remember that being there?"

"I can see the scrub brush under the table, RIGHT BESIDE the chips you forgot to throw out."

"What do you mean, that doesn't prove that I did it? You don't actually think I did, do you?" He asked with his hand on his chest and seeming shocked or hurt by your words.

"No, but i think you're covering for the other two. Especially since these crayons have bit marks on them too. WHICH they used on the table."

"..."

"Where the hell are you going!?" You asked as he ran off and immediately dropped the snacks he was eating, grabbing the twins as they giggled and waved goodbye to you. He immediately ran out the door, leaving you there.. pondering with a small smile on your face, amused. Although you were still going to kick his ass when he gets home for allowing this.

He'll often reward them for doing many things, even if it's the bare minimum. He teaches them how to feel gratitude and give it to others. An example of this is on every Mother's day, waking up to them walking over to your bed with a tray of breakfast and a card. Despite their common mess up the first few years, dropping it easily, it gets better every year.

The older they got and began to act up more, you'd often try to ask him to give some sort of talk or slap the rear end. Instead he just pats you the shoulder and blames it on puberty and hormones.

"They've been on those devices for so long." You complained after walking out of their rooms to check on them and seeing no change from four hours ago, still texting or watching on their phones. "Should I take them away?"

"Don't worry about it," He said with a invitation to sit beside him, "It's just puberty."

"You always say that."

"Because it's always that."

"But shouldn't we do something about it? Like have them read a book?"

"Oh, no, no, no. They won't be happy about that."

[diaafterdark]

୭⋆*｡ ₊̣̇.ෆ.₊̣̇. ୨୧ – post beach breakfast with husband!kento nanami in malaysia ˃̵ᴗ˂̵˚♡˚‧⁺༄

“are you sure you don’t want me to order anything, honey?” your husband asks, resting a heavy hand on your upper arm.

“no.” you smile, popping a raspberry into your mouth as you look up at him. his hair is still damp and there is a towel slung over his shoulder. “will you help me though?”

“of course i will. now stop eating the fruit, or we won’t have any to go with the pancakes.” kento grins as he steals a few blueberries from the white bowl of berries you’re holding before you place it on the counter.

he moves around you with ease, grabbing a pan, switching the stove on, gently redirecting you away from the heat, all the domestic, attentive things that made you fall in love with him when he was still that emo kid in high school.

“go dry off, i’ve got it.” he looks at you over his shoulder and catches you admiring his back muscles. he’s right, you think. you two had come inside from the beach a few minutes ago and you’re soaking the floor with your wet footprints. 

you had woken him up on the first day of your honeymoon, and now that it’s dawning upon you, you feel kinda bad. kento is always so tired and exhausted, but you promise yourself to let him get some reading in and sleep as long as he wants for the rest of the week.

you were already in your bikini and wanted to go for a swim before putting anything in your stomach, against kento’s numerous requests. your argument was that the uv was especially high and who was he to argue with his beloved fiancee–ummm, his beloved wife of four days.

you wander back into the primary bedroom and into the bathroom. the leds on the mirror illuminate your new tan and you smile to yourself when you catch the tan line on your shoulder underneath your bikini strap.

you grab a folded towel off the counter and run it through your hair, lazily drying the roots with minimal effort. you’d end up blowdrying it later anyways because kento had told you that he wanted to take you out for dinner.

you drag it over your body, making sure that your feet, legs, neck and arms are mainly dry because it’d be overwhelming to cook while still dripping wet.

“ken!” you shout, wiping stray droplets from your cheeks and hairline.

“yes, my love?” he calls.

“let me do the pancakes, kay?”

“okay. well come on, i’m done with the batter.”

you make your way back to the kitchen, grabbing a strawberry from the bowl before moving next to him. kento glances at you as you’re chewing and raises an eyebrow at you.

“what? ‘m hungry.” you mumble.

“mhm. because who wanted to go to the beach so early in the morning?” he hums, kissing your forehead and pulling you into his chest.

“you did, silly.” 

“oh, my memory must be playing tricks on me.”

“you know, that does happen with age, old man.” you snicker and he pinches your cheek because you both know you’re only a year older than him and not even thirty years old yet.

you still remember the day you saw him for the first time. it was the beginning of a new year and you, satoru, suguru, and shoko were all second years. 

you were walking through the courtyard after principal yaga had sent you to go collect something for him from the other classrooms. foolish choice, really, because you weren’t coming back any time soon.

you came across two kids at one of the drink vending machines, one was brunet and had a wide eyed expression, the other one was taller and was blond and looked like he was constantly mad at the world.

the shorter boy was kicking the machine and dramatically whining and yelling at it while the other one just watched him, muttering something you couldn’t make up from how far away you were.

everyone knew that vending machine was infamous for never working correctly and you had to press a million buttons just to get it to work. however, it looked like they had no clue.

“hi!” you grin, walking up to them. “ummm, need some help?” you ask.

“oh, yeah!” the brunet replied. “this vending machine’s stupid. it ate my money but won’t give my drink.”

“yeah, this one’s tricky like that,” you explain, pressing a few buttons like satoru does to get it to work. “are you guys first years?”

“yeah, my name’s haibara yuu.” the brunet said as you look back at him. your eyes drifted up to the other boy standing next to him.

“i’m nanami kento.” he muttered.

“not the talker, nanami.” you hummed. you already knew satoru was going to have fun terrorizing him. “you want anything?” you asked.

nanami stammered and stumbled over his words before trailing off and you just decided to get two more of what haibara was getting. the three colas dispensed and you gathered the cans into your arms.

“woahhh! thanks!” haibara exclaimed happily. nanami immediately took the cans from you to free up your hands and you didn’t miss that small action. you smiled up at him and he quickly averted his eyes back to haibara.

“what year are you?” nanami asked.

“second.” you replied.

“thank you. again.” the blond said and both boys bowed in front of you.

“it’s okay!!” you grinned, bowing back. “i suggest avoiding this one from now on.”

“well, we have you now, so we can scam this vending machine all we want. right, kento?” haibara elbowed nanami and you almost laughed at how visibly discomforted he looked.

you decided to go before yaga left the classroom and began searching for you himself. you excused yourself but not without glancing at nanami a few more times. he was so polite yet so reserved at the same time.

back to the present, you manage to get away from kento after a few shared laughs and grab the bowl with the pancake batter in it. you slowly pour a little bit into the pan and watch it start to cook.

“i think that’s the best one.” you say.

“you say that every time and at least one comes out burnt.” kento rests his chin on your head and wraps his arms around you.

you look down and see the gleam of his wedding ring around his finger and think back to just a few days ago when you were trying not to cry walking down the aisle while he was crying with haibara standing next to him as his best man.

“it adds character.” you reply and he presses a kiss to your temple. he watches as you flip the pancake and repeat that action a few more times until the bowl is almost empty. you can feel his muscles start to relax. 

although he’s learned to get rid of all that tenseness in his shoulders and back when he’s around you, him knowing that the next six days will be just you two separated from the world makes his body melt into you even more, if that’s even possible.

when you pour the last pancake into the pan, kento pulls you by the hand away from the stove and into his arms. he splays his fingers across your bare waist and you lay your head on his chest. 

the two of you slowly drift around the kitchen to no noise at all, just the soft sound of the waves crashing into the shore and the harmony of the rhythm of each other’s heartbeats. you place your palms on his chest and smile into his skin.

“i can’t believe this is my life.” kento says quietly, like if he’s too loud he’ll shatter the moment.

“what?” you reply.

“you. here. i can’t believe i’ve kept you this long without screwing it up.” he explains. “don’t know where i’d be without you. probably back in japan at my stupid job.”

“the one that used to make your head hurt so much you said it felt like you were going to explode?” you look up at him. 

“something like that.”

“well, you know i love you, right? and that’ll never change.” you reach up and cup his cheek in your palm. “i’m wearing your ring and i have your last name, i’m not going anywhere, baby.”

“yeah,” he slightly turns his head and presses a kiss to your hand, then your knuckles, and then your wedding ring. “i know. and i love you too, sweet girl.”

the sound of sizzling and cracking interrupts the blissfulness of it all and you look over kento’s shoulder to see smoke coming from the pan.

“ken you jinxed me!!” you exclaim. he grabs the spatula on the counter and uses it to pick up the blackened pancake and turns down the knob on the stove with his other hand.

“and you distracted me,” he gently guides you out of the way as he discards of the ruined pancake. “was this part of your plan all along?” you fold your arms over your chest.

“yes, my love,” he grins, rubbing his hands up and down your arms. “i meticulously and intentionally planned to express my love just for you to forget to flip a pancake.”

“sounds like first degree murder to me.” you huff and he pulls you into his chest.

“what’s my sentence, then?” he hums, engulfing you into his warmth.

“infinite relaxation and love from your darling wife.”

“how long?”

“for life. with no bond or possibility of parole.”

“of course, your honor.”

━✧˖° ʚ🌠ɞ ✧･ﾟ : *✧ ･ﾟ: *. ・ ･ﾟ: ೃ࿔ *:･ *·˚ ᝰ̟۟

a/n : the way it was so freaking fun to write this at 4 in the morning

[quantummango]

Pairing: Tamsy Caines x gn!reader

Warning: Tamsy

Genre: Humor, Mystery

A/N: GUYS HOLY SHIT I’M ACTUALLY SO HAPPY RIGHT NOW 😭😭 SO! I edit on both my phone and laptop, and the draft got deleted on my phone like I said yesterday but I forgot I still had it open on my laptop!! So I panicked, copied and pasted it into a new doc in another window right before refreshing and OMFGGG I SAVED IT JUST IN TIME AAAA I’M SO THANKFUL!!! THAT’S THE ASK I TOOK A PICTURE OF SO Y’ALL COULD KNOW THE THEME OF THIS REQUEST BTW!!!

The original A/N before all this bullshit happened: Hi, thank you!! I made reader a bit less problematic than Tamsy because since they’re suspicious of him, I imagine reader to side with Rudo if they knew of Tam Tam’s plans, even if it was just for entertainment and not genuine worry. It’s really just mind games at the end of the day

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

Uno reverse card

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

The mission had ended hours ago, yet the base still buzzed faintly with the hum of power lines and echoing footsteps. You were supposed to be filling out your report, but instead you sat alone in the corner of the Cleaners’ briefing hall, pretending to write while really just watching Tamsy.

He was across the room, perched casually on the edge of a desk, long fingers looping a spool of thread around his knuckles like he was toying with something alive. He looked calm. Per usual. That smile of his was all surface, but you’d seen the way his eyes never rested, the quiet awareness behind every movement.

You tapped your pen against the page, thinking. There was something about him that didn’t add up. Something a little too perfect in the way he fit into the team, like he was always performing.

Well, hypocrite. You weren’t exactly innocent either.

You’d learned to hide your own sharper edges behind a lazy smile and easy tone. Nobody needed to know the things that really made your blood race— the messier urges, the curiosity toward the darker side of people.

So when you caught Tamsy watching you back, something deep inside you thrummed.

He stood up first, straightening his tie and walking over with that smooth, confident gait. “You’ve been pretending to fill that page for twenty minutes,” he said lightly, stopping in front of your desk. “You planning to submit a blank report?”

You raised a brow, tapping your pen once more. “Ummm, maybe I’m just waiting for the inspiration to hit.”

“Oh?” He leaned a little closer, clasping his hands behind his back. “You don’t strike me as the ‘wait for it to come to you’ type.”

You met his gaze; unflinching, curious. “You’d be surprised what I think, Tamsy.”

He smiled at that, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I don’t think much surprises me anymore, dear.”

“Hmm...you must be boring,” you said, tilting your head. You wanted a reaction.

For a second, his composure cracked— a tiny, amused laugh slipped through. “Touché...”

You watched as he stood up straight, the threads slide between his fingers, the metallic spool flashing under the light. “Why are you fiddling with it?”

“It helps me think.”

“About what?”

He looked up, and the room felt smaller all of a sudden. “About people.” It'smyintstrumentdon'tquestionmebitchwhyhaven'tIhungyouyet Inner Tamsy responded. He hates being questioned.

You set your pen down slowly. “You spend a lot of time thinking about people, huh?” Just itching for any reaction other than nonchalance from this bird man.

“I like to understand them,” he said, voice quiet now, “what moves them. What possibly, hm...breaks them. Ah, their weakness I mean.”

That made you smile— slow, deliberate. “See, that sounds like you’re hiding something.” After all, you understood.

He chuckled softly. “Everyone is, my dear.”

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was heavy. A slow-burning tension that neither of you tried to break.

Your eyes still locked on his. “You might do a lot of studying on people, but you look like someone who’s been studied too.” Because you're not special bitch, there are always others watching you watch others. Like Corvus, like me, Inner you responded.

His expression flickered— quick, but you caught it. “In that case, perhaps I’m both.”

You grinned. “So I’m right about you then.”

“Right about what?”

“That you’ve got something strange going on underneath all that calm.”

He tilted his head, the smile on his face sharpening just slightly. “Funny. I was about to say the same thing about you.”

You laughed quietly, shaking your head. “Y'know, we’d make terrible poker partners.”

“Or perfect ones.”

He said it with such certainty that your heartbeat skipped. For all his polished composure, there was something in his tone— something that sounded like recognition. Like he saw the same shadows you kept carefully hidden behind your own simper.

You stood, pushing your chair back just enough to create a challenge in the movement. “I guess we'll never know.”

His gaze dropped for a fraction of a second — not out of shyness, but calculation. “So you're plotting?" Tamsy could relate.

“Maybe I am,” you said, stepping past him, brushing just close enough for him to smell the faint trace of metal and smoke on you. “Or maybe I’m just simply testing a theory.”

“And what theory is that?”

“That you’re not half as good at hiding what you are as you think you are.”

Oh but I am, he thought in his head. How else could I have gotten past Semiu who sees you for who you are? Ah right, he thought with playful sarcasm. —the watchman book. Had to clear her memory and create a fake one after she seen the real me.

You left him standing there, still smiling to himself in a weird way— but the look in his eyes wasn’t amusement anymore. It was something else.

Later that night, as you walked the dimly lit hall toward your quarters, you could feel that he was watching you again.

Unbeknownst to you, it was just his string puppet he crafted a long while ago. Not to stalk you, no no. Just to watch over you. Like an ang e l..-.....—

And somewhere in the dark, Tamsy smiled to himself.

So…they noticed.

He wasn’t sure if that excited him— or if it hindered his plans. Rest assured, he had absolutely no issue getting rid of a problem.

—

Tamsy’s coat brushed your arm for the fifth time. Fifth. You didn’t even bother pretending it was an accident anymore.

“Stop. You’re doing that on purpose,” you muttered, scribbling notes onto the mission log.

He leaned down just enough for his breath to skim your ear. “Doing what?”

That calm tone—that “I’m innocent” act—had your jaw tightening. Nobody is innocent, stop this shit. You slid his chair leg out with your foot just as he leaned back.

CLACK.

He barely caught himself, one hand on the desk, his eyes cutting toward you with a spark that was way too amused.

“You’re childish,” he said, brushing dust from his sleeve.

“Okay, and you’re in my personal space.”

“Maybe I just like the view from here...”

“Then enjoy it from the floor,” you said, kicking the chair leg again.

He didn’t fall—he caught your ankle mid-swing, fingers curling around your boot with infuriating gentleness. The kind that screamed control.

He smiled, all teeth and quiet mockery. “Be. Careful.”

“Or what?” I mean, what?

His fingers caressed your ankle for a mere second before he let go, smirk widening as you shoved your chair back. You hated that your heartbeat jumped.

—

Tamsy was all composure again the next day, sparring calmly with Delmon until he noticed you by the door. Then, without warning, he switched targets.

“Need a warm-up?” he asked, tone sugary sweet. Of course it was, he had to keep up the facade with everyone else.

"TAMSY COME BACK! YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO SWITCH OPPONENTS!" Delmon shouted. "HI Y/N!" He added.

You waved, before stepping in the room. Tamsy was always calm before he did something chaotic.

"Sorry Delmon. I have to take my chances," was all Tamsy said before you stood before him while Delmon grunted and left the room.

The match started slow—too slow—until you realized he was deliberately aiming his attacks to mess up your stance. Every hit of the ropes just close enough to make you stumble, never actually connecting.

“Oh, so we’re playing that game,” you muttered.

He tilted his head. “Hmm? What game?” Inner Tamsy cackled, having the time of his life.

You grabbed his coat collar and used his momentum to flip him—except he twisted at the last second, hooking your leg with the rope and pulling you down with him.

Now you were both on the floor, breathing hard, staring each other down from inches apart.

He grinned like he’d just won the lottery. You shoved his face away. “You’re extremely annoying, you know this right.”

“Woooow,” he said, still holding on to you rather tightly. “I have the same opinion about you!”

You hit him in the ribs. Lightly. Maybe.

He coughed a laugh, rubbing his side. They're insane, he thought, eyes flicking over you like he wasn’t sure whether to strangle you or kiss you. Perfect.

A red mark was left on your leg that day.

—

By the time the third incident rolled around, everyone had learned to not leave you two alone.

Unfortunately, Enjin did. Of course he did. The man would rather hookup with women than do a simple task. So he left it to you two.

You and Tamsy had been told to organize mission files. Innocent enough—until he started “accidentally” mixing the stacks you’d just sorted.

You snapped your head toward him. “Once again, you’re doing this on purpose. Why are you like this?”

He didn’t even look up. “Am I?”

You stepped closer. “Yes.”

He kept moving files, so you reached over and swiped one from his hand.

That got his attention. He slowly leaned up, gaze dropping from your face to the file you were holding hostage. “You really want to start this?”

You backed up toward the shelves, smirking. “Guess so.”

First, he steadily walked your direction. As if giving you a chance to simply return it to him. You didn'tyoudidyoudidn'tyoudid know this particular file was Rudo's. But then, he lunged for it. You dodged. The two of you danced between shelves, the sound of footsteps echoing like a chase scene that’d gone too far.

You ducked around a corner, but he caught you by the wrist, pinning you lightly against the shelf. Not rough—just controlled. Annoyingly so.

The silence stretched. The only sound was your breathing and the creak of paper files shifting.

“You’re not good at following orders,” he said softly. BooootomatotomatoIhaaaaaatepeoplewhodon'tdowhatIsay, Inner Tamsy complained as he sat forward in his chair with his arms on his thighs.

You met his eyes, defiant. “Neither are you, so now what.”

Something flickered in his expression—something intense, slightly amused, and a little too dark.

He leaned close enough to distract you with his yellow pupils that had no soul, then took the file from your hand so slowly it felt deliberate.

“Don't do that again dear,” he murmured, turning away like nothing happened.

You stood there, jaw tight, watching him go. “Unbelievable,” you muttered under your breath.

Behind you, he smiled. Manic and giddy. Got them.

—

The next few days were simply unbearable. Every mission, every briefing, every shared hallway— you could feel him there, that same silent tension pulling at your nerves like wire.

Then, one night, you walked into the supply room. And there he was. Sitting down, his jacket draped against the chair. One of his shirt sleeves was rolled up as he bandaged a cut on his arm. Gosh, is he gonna have yet another scar?

He looked up when you entered, and you froze.

“Need something?” he asked, like nothing was wrong.

You crossed your arms. “No. Just—didn’t know you were here.” Liar

He shrugged, then hissed when the bandage slipped. You sighed, walking over before you could stop yourself. “You’re doing it wrong.”

“Hm. Then fix it.”

You snatched the roll from his hand and started wrapping it, tighter than necessary. He flinched but didn’t stop you.

“Happy now?” you said.

He looked at the bandage, then back at you. “Not really.”

Before you could respond, his hand shot up, grabbing your wrist. Then his other hand caught your jaw, thumb resting near your mouth.

You froze again.

“I’m tired of this,” he said, voice low. “Your games.”

You glared up at him. “Then stop.”

He smiled— small, humorless. “I believe it was you who started this..." his thumb traced your cheek. “—so you first.”

You hated how close his breath felt. It smelt like he had cake recently. He probably did. There were quite a few times he’s returned with cake either for himself or for Rudo. Never for any of the other kids....whatever though.

You hated that you didn’t want to step back.

“Fine,” you muttered, leaning in just enough for your nose to brush his. “Game over...” you muttered, looking into his endless yellow eyes.

For one second, neither of you moved. Just silence, heavy and warm.

Then you pulled back— too fast, and he laughed under his breath like he couldn’t believe you did that.

“Well. Looks like it was a tie,” he murmured.

You smacked his shoulder, hard enough to make him grunt. “You wish.” You two still haven’t discovered each other’s intentions yet after all.

He caught your wrist again, this time slower, more deliberate. “No,” he said, eyes narrowing just slightly. “It was a tie.”

Inside, you smiled. Alright, alright. Let’s play again.