Game night cuddles || Crimzon Ruze

The biggest baddest guy in all of Elysium. People fear him. He was known as one of the scariest in Elysium. Though anyone who truly knew him knew he was nothing of the sorts. He could be scary yes however no one really believed in the friend group.

Not even Tempus could believe it when they got to know him.

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To you though he was a big nerd. Your big loser nerd of a boyfriend. The one who wouldn't dare hurt you. The same one who just loved playing games on the couch in your shared home with you.

Today was one of those days. The days where you both had planned to go out on a proper date. Though you both ended up ditching the idea last minute and then curling up on the couch, playing a game, and ordering food.

He was sat beside you now, legs spread like always, one arm thrown around your shoulder with that casual laziness he did everything with when he wasn’t swinging an axe into the skull of something ten times his size. The game controller rested in his other hand, though his eyes weren’t even on the screen anymore. They were on you.

“You’re terrible at this map,” he teased, nudging your foot with his. “I told you to go left, not launch yourself into the lava like a dumbass. Again.”

You gave him a look. “I’m trying. Maybe if someone didn’t distract me every five seconds.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault you suck?” he grinned, voice deep and crackling with amusement. “That’s rich, baby.”

You leaned into his side, lips twitching, and he adjusted immediately—pulling you in tighter, dragging the blanket over your legs even though it was barely cold. The scent of spice and faint iron clung to him from his last hunt, but beneath it was that familiar comfort you’d grown addicted to: forest leaves, cheap shampoo, and home.

The screen went to a loading screen. He didn’t move to change it.

“You ever think,” he muttered, voice dropping low, thumb tracing lazy circles into your upper arm, “that if anyone ever saw me like this, curled up with you, all soft and shit—they’d stop calling me the ‘Reaper of Elysium’?”

You laughed. “No. But maybe they’d start calling you the ‘Sappy Bastard of Elysium’ instead.”

He chuckled, rough and quiet. “Tch. That’s worse.”

You turned slightly to glance up at him. He was already looking at you, something warm and private in his expression, softer than any whisper and more dangerous than any blade.

“Don’t care what they call me,” he added, fingers tightening around your shoulder. “As long as you’re still here.”

Your heart fluttered. Not in the dramatic poetic way books write about, but in the real, grounding way like a heartbeat you finally knew was yours. Safe. Solid. His.